“Could something have gone wrong?” Zhang Haobo murmured uneasily.
It was not until the fifth day that the Gate of Life and Death finally rumbled open.
A streak of light shot out—the Nascent Soul returning to its body.
Moments later, Linghu Chang’s physical form swayed slightly before he slowly rose to his feet. His face was etched with unmistakable sorrow.
“Fellow Daoist Linghu, what happened?” Zhang Haobo asked.
“Follow me,” Linghu Chang said quietly.
With a wave of his hand, he withdrew the protective arrays around his body and stepped through the stone door.
After a brief hesitation, Xiao Heng and the others exchanged glances, heightened their vigilance, and followed.
The moment they crossed the threshold, the world changed.
It was as if they had stepped into an endless void. In the far distance, countless stars shimmered faintly.
“A thousand years ago, in order to protect us...” Linghu Chang’s voice echoed through the darkness, heavy with grief, “Our Sect Master had already departed to immortality.”[1]
“This,” he continued, “is the scene recorded by the Medicine King Cauldron back then.”
The surrounding space abruptly shifted from stillness into motion.
Countless streaks of light stretched and twisted into distorted arcs as if space itself were being pulled apart.
Below them, a vast, indistinct sphere of light steadily receded into the distance.
A sigh echoed through the void.
“The Xuanhuang World...”
Another voice followed—aged, weary.
“Sect Master, you must not blame yourself. The great calamity was approaching. We fled in search of a slim chance of survival. There is no fault in that.”
“Even so,” Liu Ruchen replied softly, “the Xuanhuang World is, after all, our homeland—”
“With greater power comes greater responsibility,” the old voice cut him off, a trace of bitterness seeping through. “Our Medicine King Sect is but a small, insignificant sect, barely capable of protecting ourselves. How could we possibly manage the affairs of others?
“When it comes to confronting the calamity and saving the Xuanhuang World... let that task fall to the Ten Immortal Dao Sects.”
The voice’s dissatisfaction toward the Ten Immortal Dao Sects was unmistakable.
“Elder Huang...” Liu Ruchen paused, then sighed. “Enough. Let us not speak of this.”
After a moment, he changed the subject.
“Still, the attitude of the Ten Immortal Dao Sects this time is rather strange. Under normal circumstances, upon learning of our plan to evacuate the entire sect, they would certainly have intervened. Yet this time... they did nothing.”
“When disaster looms, everyone seeks survival,” Elder Huang replied dismissively. “We are hardly the only ones fleeing. Perhaps they simply couldn’t catch us all.”
Liu Ruchen fell silent.
After a brief pause, Elder Huang continued, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice.
“But outsiders would never guess that our Medicine King Sect possesses a Waymark, one that leads to another cultivation world.
“With the Waymark as our guide,” he said fervently, “we can traverse the endless void and reach a new world.”
1. 仙去 (Xiān qù): the standard, respectful euphemism for the death of a cultivator, especially a high-ranking or revered one. It implies they have ascended or joined the immortals, not merely died. ☜