He has been reincarnated through countless worlds, adorned with billions of mythological terms!

Thinking of this, Shen Qingqing fell silent.

First there was that mysterious Level 1 Authority user, and now there's this reincarnated individual with an even more extraordinary identity and talent. She feels that she might not be able to protect the Return Crystal this time.

However, she wasn't idle either.

In the past year or so, Shen Qingqing has contacted four more reincarnators through her own channels, bringing the total to five, including one she had contacted earlier in the capital.

The five individuals are distributed across the three dynasties of Da Wu, Da Song, and Da Qian, and each has a different identity: the son of a merchant, the adopted daughter of a hunter, a young novice monk in a temple, and two others whom she has not yet revealed.

"They're all watching and waiting."

Shen Qingqing said, "Nobody wants to be the first to step forward."

"Then let's wait."

Yunyi said.

By the age of seven, Yun Wantong's business had expanded to every state of the Great Wu Dynasty.

The caravans traveled south to the Miao region, north to the grasslands, west to the desert, and east to the sea.

The flag of the Yun Family Trading Company became the most common sign on Dawu Road.

Some people say that Yun Wantong is the richest man in Dawu. When he heard this, he just smiled and said that he was far from it.

But everyone knows that this is just modesty.

Old Jiang came back once that winter.

He stayed at the Yun residence for three days, checked Yun Yi's cultivation level, and then remained silent for a long time.

"You've walked your own path," he said finally, "and I can't teach you anything more."

Yun Yi nodded.

Old Jiang has passed away again.

At the age of eight, Shen Qingqing broke through the barrier between the celestial and the divine.

On the night of the breakthrough, a light rain fell in Luozhou City.

The spring rain fell silently, nourishing all things without a sound, and her calamity also came without warning.

At the age of nine, a major event occurred in the Great Wu Dynasty—the crown prince was deposed.

When the news reached Luozhou City, Yun Wantong was in his accounting office checking this year's salt permits.

After listening to the steward's report, he remained silent for a moment, then said:

"Take back the business in the capital."

The manager was puzzled:

"My lord, what does the Crown Prince's deposition have to do with us?"

Yun Wantong glanced at him:

"The Crown Prince is the heir apparent."

"The fact that the crown prince has been deposed indicates that someone in the court has made a move."

"Any action involves winning or losing; if you win, you share the spoils; if you lose, you face consequences."

"We're in business, we don't take sides, but we can't be seen as people taking sides."

The manager suddenly realized what was happening and made arrangements that very night.

Yunyi was present.

He noticed that when Yun Wantong said these words, the shrewdness typical of businessmen had faded from his face, replaced by a profound worldliness.

His father, who usually appears to be just a fat businessman with nothing to offer but money, managed to become the richest man in Dawu from scratch in just over a decade, and that was due to much more than just luck.

At the age of ten, the number of reincarnators that Shen Qingqing had contacted had increased to nine.

Three of them explicitly stated their willingness to join the alliance, while the rest either remained on the sidelines or declined.

Of those who refused, one died in the Song Dynasty.

The news was brought back by Shen Qingqing.

She placed a photographic stone on the table, infused it with her true energy, and an image appeared—an eight- or nine-year-old boy, dressed in rags, lying in a dark alley in Lin'an, the capital of the Song Dynasty.

There was a fist-sized hole in his chest, running from his front to his back, with charred edges, as if it had been pierced by an extremely high temperature.

The fatal wound was only this one, clean and neat, with no other signs of fighting.

"He's one of the top reincarnators."

Shen Qingqing said, "I have experienced at least sixty worlds."

"His cultivation has reached the level of Martial Godhood, and he has also cultivated two other systems that are no weaker than Martial Godhood."

"But he was still defeated in one move."

She paused, her voice lowering:

"There's a chance the person who killed him was a Level 1 Authority user."

Yun Yi stared at the empty chest in the memory stone and remained silent for a moment.

He knew that the killer was not a Level 1 authority user.

But if that's not the case, then who would openly take action at this time?

Knowing full well that there are Level 1 Reincarnators in this world, they still dared to attack other Reincarnators.

Are you trying to lure him out?

Or is it simply for the points?

In any case, anyone who dares to take action must be extremely strong and confident.

Yun Yi assessed his current strength: he had reached the pinnacle of the Three Paths of Dao Integration, and was only a step away from becoming a terrestrial immortal.

The cultivation system has also reached the peak of Foundation Establishment, just one step away from the Golden Core stage.

Could he defeat someone who could instantly kill sixty reincarnated beings from different worlds?

do not know.

But at least, they are no longer completely helpless.

That winter, Yunyi finished reading all 103,000 scrolls of secret manuals in Nachuan's bag.

The fifth leaf of the innate seed of enlightenment silently unfolded on a snow-covered night when the city was locked in a blizzard.

The leaf was transparent and almost invisible unless you looked closely.

The fifth leaf, returning to oneness.

Yunyi closed his eyes.

One hundred and thirty thousand volumes of secret manuals unfolded simultaneously in his mind.

It's not about arranging or stacking, but a more fundamental fusion—like piecing together 103,000 fragments to form a complete mirror.

Each fragment refracts light from a different angle, and when they are all put back in place, the mirror reflects the same truth.

All martial arts under heaven originate from the same source.

Swordsmanship and knife skills.

The intent of fist and the intent of palm.

Martial arts and immortality, immortality and Buddhism, Buddhism and witchcraft—all can share the same origin.

They are just different hiking trails on the same mountain; some are longer, some are steep, and some break off halfway, requiring you to build your own bridge.

But the mountaintop is the same.

At this moment, martial arts have reached the level of terrestrial immortals and gods.

The immortal path leads to the formation of the golden elixir.

The Buddha and the Tao attain enlightenment.

The three paths broke through simultaneously, and the three auras converged, collided, and merged in the dantian, finally returning to one place.

There were no unusual phenomena surrounding Yun Yi—no dazzling light, no resonance with heaven and earth, no showers of flowers.

The snow fell even heavier, as if heaven and earth themselves were silently watching.

He opened his eyes and looked at the heavy snow outside the window.

At the age of ten, he became a terrestrial deity.

He reached out and touched the fifth leaf.

The transparent leaves trembled slightly, and the entire seedling began to glow.

Light surges from the roots, passes through the stem, flows into each leaf, and then flows back through the veins of the leaves, forming a closed loop.

All the techniques, martial arts skills, secret arts, and mental cultivation methods began to merge with each other in this light.

A certain move in swordsmanship overlaps with a certain step in footwork.

They exert force in exactly the same way, only their external forms are different—one wields a sword, the other steps forward, but their essence is the same.

He combined the two and refined them into a more basic action unit.

A certain rhythm in the boxing technique is completely consistent with the breathing rhythm of a Buddhist meditation method.

He put the two together, and his fist intent became more concentrated, while his meditation mental technique gained an extra layer of outward-extending power.

One place after another, one line after another.

Those originally independent techniques were broken down into the smallest units like building blocks, and then recombined according to some deeper logic.

It's not a patchwork; it's a regeneration from the roots.

I don't know how much time passed.

It might be an hour, or it might be a whole night.

Yun Yi opened his eyes.

Outside the window, the snow has stopped.

The courtyard was covered with a thick layer of fresh snow, which reflected the moonlight in a cold, silvery-white light.

All was quiet, except for the occasional muffled sound of snow sliding off the eaves in the distance.

He looked down at his hands.

Then, he extended a finger and lightly touched the air in front of him.

No specific technique was used.

He simply drew out the most basic unit of movement that he had just "seen" in his mind with his fingertips.

The air was pierced.

A black hole the size of a pinhead appeared at his fingertip and vanished in an instant.

The entire process was so short it was almost nonexistent; only a faint ripple remained when that space was torn apart and then healed, like a fleeting ripple on the surface of water.

Return to One.

All 103,000 volumes of martial arts techniques ultimately converge on one point.

He hadn't quite figured out what that point was yet.

But he knew that the day he fully understood that point, martial arts would no longer be a threshold, but a door that could be pushed open and entered.