Chapter 48: The Calamity of Gods and Demons! Chenxing Returns to the Primordial Realm

Hearing this voice, Chenxing curled his lips into a smile and paid it no mind. Seeing that the Lower Realm and the Eight Desolations were shielded by the Willow God with the World-Creating Azure Lotus, he knew that even with that person’s cultivation, destroying this world would now be no easy feat.

He turned to the Willow God and said, “Lift the defenses in three days.” When the Willow God nodded, he looked gently at Shi Hao beside him, saying, “Little one, your master must leave again. From now on, devote yourself to cultivation. When the day comes that you transcend this world, we shall meet again. I have nothing more to say; I have entrusted certain matters to the Willow God, and she will tell you what must be done in the future.”

Before Shi Hao could react, Chenxing waved his sleeve, sweeping up Jinling and the other two, and shot into the heavens. In the blink of an eye, they vanished before the crowd, leaving only Shi Hao’s voice, full of longing, echoing through the world: “Master! I will find you…”

No one noticed that, mingled with Shi Hao’s cry, a woman’s soft whisper drifted through the air: “The Immortal Emperor… I believe in you! I will see you again…”

On this day, countless living beings endured three days of terror unlike any ever known. Above the Nine Heavens, within the chaos, the pressure of endless mighty beings swept the world. Cataclysmic booms shook the heavens and the earth, as if gods were at war, or ancient demon gods were returning to wipe out this world. It was unspeakably terrifying, as though the very sky would collapse! Even with the protection of the World-Creating Azure Lotus, innumerable mortals in the Eight Desolations still perished.

This state persisted for three days before gradually subsiding. In later generations, these three days would be called: The Calamity of Gods and Demons.

Countless years drifted by unnoticed; in the blink of an eye, ten thousand years had passed.

Prehistoric times. In the Purple Cloud Palace atop Jade Capital Mountain, the Daoist Hongjun was meditating in silence. Suddenly moved, he rose to his feet, bowed toward the void, and called out, “Congratulations on your return, my friend! Greetings from Hongjun!”

A figure appeared out of thin air within the temple, clad in strange attire—it was Chenxing, who had left the Prehistoric Realm ten thousand years before.

Hearing Chenxing’s polite words, Hongjun was somewhat surprised; Chenxing had never spoken so courteously before.

Hongjun knew well that Chenxing’s origins were unfathomable. Though he had always been informal, there was an innate pride within him—a sense of looking down upon all beings. Who would have thought that, after ten thousand years away, Chenxing would now feel truly approachable? Sensing this change, Hongjun laughed and said, “Congratulations, my friend; your Dao heart is about to reach perfection.”

Hongjun had known Chenxing for a long time, and had always sensed something odd—although Chenxing’s cultivation was unfathomable, far beyond imagination, he always seemed to be lacking something, as if his state of mind were incomplete.

With his experience, Hongjun guessed that this was because Chenxing’s Dao heart was not yet perfected. This puzzled him greatly—without a perfected Dao heart, how had Chenxing achieved sainthood?

This time, upon Chenxing’s return, Hongjun could feel that not only was he more approachable, but the sense of incompleteness about him had nearly vanished.

Hongjun naturally surmised that in these ten thousand years, Chenxing’s Dao heart must have come close to perfection, hence the change. Thus, he offered his congratulations.

Chenxing returned the gesture, full of emotion. Since leaving the Perfect World, he had traveled through many realms, never again altering the fate of any world, but instead becoming a mortal, blending into each world, experiencing the cycles of life and death, love and hate, joy and sorrow.

What he hadn’t expected was that, in just ten thousand years, he would bring his Dao heart within half a step of completion. Yet, remembering his promise to two women, and with their ten-thousand-year appointment drawing near, he had no choice but to return to the Prehistoric Realm, lest the mischievous Nüwa and her companion complain.

When they were seated, Chenxing asked after those on Fangzhang Island. From Hongjun he learned that, over these ten thousand years, the three clans of the Prehistoric Realm had come to the brink of war for supremacy, with some secretly fanning the flames, driving them to the point where there could be no reconciliation.

Though Nüwa and her companion sometimes traveled the world with the people of Fangzhang Island, the island’s strength was on par with the great clans, so no one dared provoke them.

Zulong and Qizu, having both suffered at Chenxing’s hands before, and seeing that the Fangzhang group had no ambition for dominance, had instructed their followers not to trouble them, lest they make enemies unnecessarily.

However, in the past century, because Nüwa and the others had grown close to Feng Ling’er, often visiting the Undying Volcano to see her, Zulong and Qizu had become displeased, fearing the Fangzhang group might side with the Phoenix Clan.

Over the years, Hongjun would sometimes discuss the Dao with Fuxi, Nüwa, and the others, or travel the land together. When Zulong found out, he came several times to Jade Capital Mountain, trying to probe Hongjun about Fangzhang’s intentions, but Hongjun always parried his questions. Until Chenxing’s return, the people of Fangzhang Island remained safe and well.

Chenxing listened without concern—when he had left, Nüwa, the mischievous one, and Fuxi were already at the quasi-saint level. Entrusting them to Hongjun was simply a precaution, in case they couldn’t resist the clan leaders. Now that he had returned, there was nothing to worry about.

“Are you prepared, my friend? Your great opportunity draws near, so let me offer my congratulations in advance,” Chenxing said with a smile.

Upon hearing this, Hongjun frowned slightly and sighed. “With your divine abilities, you must know what is to come. Though I have invited a few dear friends, that person’s cultivation is unparalleled, and he is my destined adversary. I cannot be certain of victory. My friend, will you…”

Before Hongjun could finish, his eyes shone with a peculiar light, fixing on Chenxing, his meaning clear.

Seeing Hongjun’s expression, Chenxing smiled wryly. “I truly cannot help you, or else your path may veer from the Grand Dao, with unpredictable consequences—it would not be worth the risk.”

Hearing this, Hongjun did not press further. To have a saint intervene would be too much; this calamity was his to face. If Chenxing resolved it for him, who knew when he would achieve his own Dao fruit.

The two conversed at length. Chenxing recounted some of his experiences over the past ten thousand years, sharing what he could, which proved enlightening to Hongjun.

In a few days, Chenxing bid Hongjun farewell and set out for Fangzhang Island in the Eastern Sea.

Along the way, Chenxing’s mind kept conjuring images of the enchanting Nüwa and the mischievous one, and he sighed inwardly. This time, he thought, it was time to resolve these matters. With his resolve settled, he found himself hurrying home with even greater urgency.

On Fangzhang Island, all was tranquil and harmonious, unchanged from ten thousand years before. By the sea stood a small stone mountain.

As the sun set, atop the mountain stood two graceful figures in white—two women gazing into the distance, as if awaiting someone’s return.

The gently rippling waves reflected the rays of the setting sun, scattering light across the shaded slope, making the scene incomparably beautiful.

“Nüwa, I miss my brother,” came a soft, fragile murmur, the depth of longing in her voice heart-rending. The speaker was the mischievous one.

Nüwa, beside her, heard the words and suppressed her own yearning, gently embracing the other’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, sister. Ten thousand years have passed, but Brother Chenxing will surely return.”

The mischievous one nodded tenderly, her eyes still fixed on the horizon. “Yes, it’s been ten thousand years. I wonder if he’s forgotten me.”

Nüwa’s heart ached, but she comforted her, “How could Brother Chenxing forget you? You’re his favorite.”

“Yes, how could Brother forget me?” An infinitely affectionate voice sounded beside them.