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

Three days after the battle of Yan Hui Valley, Yun Yi returned to Luozhou City.

As soon as he got back, Old Liu, who sells wontons, called out to him through the steam, "Young Master Yun is back!"

He nodded and continued walking home.

When Old Chen, the gatekeeper of the Yun residence, saw him, he was stunned for a long while, then he shouted at the top of his lungs:

"Young Master is back!"

The entire Yun mansion was like a pot of boiling water, with maids, servants, and stewards all rushing out.

Qin ran out from the backyard, not caring about the mud stains on her skirt. She grabbed his arm and looked him up and down several times. Her eyes reddened, but she held back her tears. In the end, she only said, "You've lost weight," and then pulled him into the main hall.

Yun Wantong stood at the entrance of the main hall.

This chubby, middle-aged businessman had become even rounder than before, but a lingering worry appeared between his brows.

He didn't pounce on Yun Yi like Qin Shi did; he simply looked Yun Yi up and down, then said in a tone that he tried hard to sound casual:

"You're back? That's good."

Have you eaten yet?

"I haven't eaten yet."

Yunyi said.

Qin immediately turned and ran to the kitchen, instructing the maids to kill a chicken, get cured meat from the cellar, and pick the tenderest cabbage hearts from the vegetable garden.

Yun Wantong pulled Yun Yi into the study, closed the door, and his casual expression finally crumbled.

"Did you go to Yanhuishan?"

Yun Yi did not deny it.

Yun Wantong remained silent for a while, then took out a letter from his sleeve.

The letter was crumpled, with frayed edges, clearly having been folded many times.

He handed the letter to Yunyi.

Yun Yi unfolded the message—it was a brief report from the Great Qian Dynasty: Strange lights shot into the sky in the Yan Hui Mountain area, seemingly indicating a battle between immortals. People from several surrounding counties fled overnight, and the government was unable to suppress the riots.

The signature was from one day ago.

"Dad, I'm alright."

Yunyi folded the letter and put it back on the table. "I just took a quick look."

Yun Wantong stared at him for a long time, then suddenly sighed.

The sigh was long and heavy, like someone who had been carrying a burden for too long finally putting it down to rest.

"You've been different from other children since you were little."

He said, "You can read the Shuowen Jiezi at the age of three, write articles at the age of four, and start practicing martial arts at the age of five."

"I, as a father, don't know anything except how to do business."

"I'll give you whatever you want, without asking why or what you're going to do with it."

"But there's one thing you have to promise me—whatever you go to do, you have to come back alive."

I promise you.

Yunyi said.

Qin Shi pushed open the door and came in carrying a large bowl of steaming chicken noodle soup, followed by a string of maids carrying plates of vegetables.

She placed the noodles on the table in front of Yun Yi, then took out a pair of chopsticks wrapped in cloth from her sleeve and put them in his hand.

Yunyi lowered his head and ate his noodles.

Qin sat beside him, watching him with a look of heartache that seemed to want to give him the best of everything in the world.

Yun Wantong stood by the window, his back to them, pretending to look at the new leaves on the locust tree outside.

The leaves of the locust tree had turned completely green, glistening with an oily sheen in the afternoon sunlight.

Spring is almost over.

……

Old Jiang arrived that very night.

Yun Yi was in his study organizing the insights he had brought back from Yan Hui Valley—Xu Youlan's principles of zither music, the swarm control of Gu worm reincarnators, Yan Hui Zhenren's secret method of connecting himself with the mountain range, Helian Rong's physical operation method of superimposing three major systems, and Xiao Yanzhi's formation strategy of using his body as an array.

These things unfolded in his mind, and the transparent veins on the fifth leaf were slowly absorbing, dismantling, and categorizing them.

Then he felt a gust of wind sneaking in through the crack in the window, and the wind smelled of alcohol.

Old Jiang pushed open the door, leaned against the door frame, and held a wine gourd in his hand.

He still had that same carefree attitude, his hair was tied up in a messy bun, but he had changed into a new set of clothes, which he had apparently stolen from somewhere.

"I heard you got into a fight at Yan Hui Mountain?"

He took a swig of wine, speaking as casually as if he were asking about the weather.

"Master's information network is truly impressive."

"Nonsense, that's my territory."

Old Jiang walked in, plopped down on Yun Yi's desk, placed his wine gourd on his lap, and said, "That old bastard Yan Hui hasn't moved an inch in over two thousand years, and suddenly he was attacked so badly that even the mountains almost collapsed. How could I not know?"

He glanced sideways at Yun Yi. "You did this?"

"No," Yunyi said, "I just watched for a little while."

Old Jiang stared at him for several breaths, then suddenly reached out and pinched his shoulder.

A wisp of extremely subtle true energy emanated from his fingertip, traveled along Yun Yi's meridians, and then disappeared.

After taking it back, Lao Jiang's expression became very subtle—a mixture of shock and silence.

He raised the gourd and took a big gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down a few times, before slamming the gourd heavily onto the table.

"Above the terrestrial immortals and gods."

He asked, "When did you break through?"

Ten days ago.

Old Jiang repeated the three words in a flat tone, but Yun Yi noticed that his fingers tightened a little when he gripped the wine gourd.

The hair bun held in place by a twig swayed gently, and the candlelight cast his shadow on the wall, a solitary black blob.

He remained silent for a long time, so long that the night watchman's clapper sounded twice outside the window.

"Master," Yun Yi spoke first, "I've organized my understanding of the realm of a true god in the mortal world, and I'd like to discuss it with you."

Old Jiang didn't speak, but simply raised his chin slightly, gesturing for him to speak.

Yun Yi picked up a jade slip from the desk, stuck it to his forehead, and after a moment took it off and handed it to Old Jiang.

Old Jiang took it and probed into it with his consciousness.

The jade slip contained no cultivation techniques or moves, only an extremely pure "understanding"—Yun Yi had broken down the realm of a true god in the mortal world into three levels.

The first level is self-contained: isolating oneself from the outside world and not being bound by the laws of heaven and earth.

The second level is the power of laws: borrowing the power of heaven and earth to empower oneself.

The third level is rule fusion: transforming oneself into a part of the rules, and as long as the rules exist, one will not perish.

Actually, these three levels of theory didn't exist at the beginning; they were only gradually developed after observing the battle between two other true gods on earth.

The first level is naturally that old monster who has lived for over two thousand years.

The second layer is that reincarnator who plays with insects—of course, not exactly the same. The other party uses the law of devouring, which is forcibly borrowed, but the theory is the same.

The third level, needless to say, is precisely his current level.

After reading it, Old Jiang placed the jade slip on the table without saying a word.

He picked up the gourd and took another swig. The wine dripped down his gray beard and onto the table, but he didn't wipe it away.

After a long silence, he finally spoke.

"Disciple, your master would like to test your current cultivation level."

Old Jiang paused for a moment, then, fearing Yun Yi might misunderstand, added, "I will restrain my strength and suppress it to the same level as yours."

"I mainly want to experience the wonders of your third layer firsthand—just looking isn't enough."

Yun Yi nodded, without refusing.

Ten minutes later.

Yun Yi sat at his desk, sipping tea and organizing his newly acquired insights.

Old Jiang stood in the courtyard outside, gazing at the sky, somewhat silent.

He remained silent for a long time, so long that Yun Yi thought he wouldn't answer.

Then he spoke, his voice very soft, carrying a sigh that could only be uttered in the deepest of nights:

"It's truly a case of 'the great waves washing away the sand,' with each wave stronger than the last, directly crushing the previous waves onto the beach."

"Master, you don't need to belittle yourself. I didn't win, did I?"

Yun Yi truthfully replied.

Old Jiang's hand trembled again.

This time, instead of shaking it inside his sleeves, he shook it out in the open.

He looked down at his hands, then put them behind his back, turned around, and walked towards the door.

He paused at the door but didn't turn around.

He pushed open the door, stepped into the moonlight in the courtyard, and with a single step, his figure vanished.

Yun Yi stood in the center of the study, looking towards the door, and shook his head helplessly.