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

The entire town disappeared, the old locust tree disappeared, the bluestone slabs disappeared, and the fortune teller's stall disappeared too.

Everything was swallowed up by that cyan-gold light, and then reformed within that light.

A new world is being born.

Yun Yi's consciousness had already sunk into an endless slumber.

His soul carried the information of the entire world, information that was too vast and too complex. Even though his soul far surpassed that of the Immortal Emperor and exceeded the limits of this world, it was still scattered by the impact of that torrent.

His consciousness faded.

It scattered into countless tiny fragments, merging into every corner of the world.

Every gust of wind, every drop of rain, every inch of land, every star.

He became this world.

But he was no longer himself.

Before his consciousness completely sank into darkness, he heard a voice.

It possesses a mechanical coldness and precision.

[Reincarnator Yun Yi detected. Destroyed the Middle Thousand Worlds. Points +5,000,000,000.]

[Detected that Reincarnator Yun Yi killed E Tiandao, points +2,000,000,000.]

[Detected that Reincarnator Yun Yi killed Evil Heavenly Dao, points +3,000,000,000.]

[Confirmed: Yun Yi is the only surviving holder of privileges in this cycle of reincarnation.]

The current integral meets the regression criteria.

[Number of players remaining in the current cycle world detected: 1.]

[The conditions for reverting to normal status have been met; all users with permissions may choose to revert.]

Yun Yi did not answer.

He was no longer able to answer.

His consciousness is fading away, merging into heaven and earth, becoming a part of this world.

The voice waited for a while.

No reply was received.

[The Reincarnator Yunyi did not reply: Defaulting to reverting.]

The voice rang out again.

Then, a beam of white light fell from the void.

The white light enveloped a fragment of a soul that was merging with heaven and earth, separating it from this world and taking it away.

It took away the last bit of his self.

The world trembled slightly the moment Yunyi was gone.

Then it continued to operate.

New laws are in operation, new spiritual energy is flowing, and new threads of destiny are unfolding.

Those beings killed by the Heavenly Dao, those mortals turned to ashes in the spiritual energy upheaval, and those cultivators who exploded and died, all re-condensed in that cyan-gold light.

They came back to life.

It felt like I had a very, very long dream.

The dream ended, and everything returned to normal.

……

In the human realm, there is a remote mountain village.

The setting sun turned the western clouds a dark red, and wisps of smoke rose from the chimneys of several houses, stretched into pale gray strips by the evening breeze.

Under the old locust tree at the village entrance, two children were playing.

The boy was twelve years old, wearing a coarse cloth short jacket, his skin was tanned dark, and he smiled, revealing a set of white teeth.

He was being chased by a six-year-old girl with two pigtails, rosy cheeks, and her short legs moving incredibly fast.

"Brother, stop right there! Give me back my candy!"

"I'm not paying you back! Come and chase me then!"

The boy ran around the old locust tree, laughing, and the little girl chased after him, panting and on the verge of tears.

Just then, a woman's voice came from the other end of the village.

"Beans! Sprouts! Time to come home for dinner!"

The boy paused.

The little girl stopped, tilted her head back and looked towards the village entrance, then turned back and glared at the boy.

"Mom's calling for dinner! Give me back my candy!"

The boy took out a piece of malt candy wrapped in oil paper from his pocket and put it in his sister's hand.

"Here, this is for you."

The little girl took the candy, her eyes lit up, and she peeled off the oil paper and stuffed it into her mouth, her cheeks bulging like a little squirrel hiding food.

The boy chuckled and patted his sister's head.

"Let's go home."

He led his younger sister home by the hand, the little girl chewing on candy while humming a tune she'd picked up from somewhere.

After walking a few steps, the boy suddenly stopped.

He turned his head and looked in a direction outside the village.

There is a mountain there.

The mountain is not high, and there is a valley halfway up the mountain that is covered by grass and trees. The evening breeze blows from there, carrying a hint of grass, trees and soil.

The boy looked in the direction of the valley, his brow furrowing slightly.

"What's wrong?" The little girl looked up at him, her mouth still full of candy, her cheeks bulging.

The boy scratched his head, looking somewhat confused.

"Nothing... I just felt like there was something over there."

"What is it?"

"I don't know." The boy scratched his head again, his brows furrowing even more. "I can't remember."

"Isn't there a really big bird?"

When he said this, there was a sense of bewilderment in his voice that he himself was unaware of.

The little girl tilted her head and thought for a moment, then her eyes suddenly lit up.

"I understand, brother!"

She took out a charcoal stick from her bosom, squatted down, and began to draw carefully on the bluestone slab.

She drew a bird.

It has a round head, a pointed beak, large wings, and a long tail.

She also drew a few curved lines on the bird's back, saying they were feathers, and then drew a few small flowers next to it, saying they were valleys.

After finishing the drawing, she looked up at her brother with a smug expression.

Is this it?

The boy looked down at the bird painted on the bluestone slab.

The blue charcoal lines and the crooked outlines show no grandeur or spirit; it's just an ordinary little bird.

But as he looked at the bird, a strange feeling suddenly welled up inside him.

Something's not right.

That's also very true.

I can't quite put my finger on what's wrong.

But he just felt that he must have recognized that bird.

"Hmm," he said, "more or less."

The little girl smiled happily, put away the charcoal sticks, and continued walking home with her brother in her hand.

They had only walked a few steps when an old Taoist priest appeared in front of them.

The old Taoist priest was wearing a faded gray cloth robe, his hair was gray and casually tied up with a wooden hairpin, and he held up a cloth banner with the four characters "Iron Mouth Predictions" written on it.

He walked slowly, as if he were taking a stroll in his own backyard.

The boy's eyes lit up as soon as he saw him.

He released his sister's hand and rushed forward, blocking the old Taoist priest's path.

"Hey! Old man!"

The old Taoist priest stopped and looked down at him.

"Where's that poem you promised to give to my sister and me?" the boy asked, holding out his hand confidently. "Hurry up and hand it over."

The old Taoist priest was taken aback.

"What poem?"

"It's that one!" the boy exclaimed anxiously. "You said yourself you'd write a poem for me and my sister, and you haven't given it to us yet!"

The old Taoist priest stared at the twelve-year-old boy for a long time.

Then the corner of his mouth twitched slightly, as if he smiled, but it also seemed like he didn't.

He pulled a yellowed piece of paper from his sleeve and handed it over.

"Take it."

The boy snatched the paper, didn't even look at it, and ran back to his sister, taking her hand in his.

"Let's go home and have dinner."

The little girl hummed in agreement and obediently followed her brother home.

After taking a few steps, the boy suddenly turned around.

The old Taoist priest remained standing in the same spot, his gray robe fluttering gently in the evening breeze, like a withered leaf that could be blown away at any moment.

He was looking in their direction.

To be precise, he was looking behind the boy, in the direction of the mountain.

The boy followed his gaze and glanced over.

The mountain is still there.

The valley halfway up the mountain is still there.

The evening breeze blew from the direction of the valley, causing the foxtail grass by the roadside to sway gently.

For some reason, the boy suddenly felt a pang of sadness.

He looked back at the old Taoist priest one last time, then grabbed his sister's hand and ran towards the village entrance.

The mother was waiting for them at the door, holding a spatula in her hand, grumbling about why they were so late.

Father poked his head out of the yard and shouted, "If you don't come soon, the food will get cold!"

The boy chuckled and rushed inside, while the little girl followed behind, calling out, "Brother, wait for me!"

The family sat around the table, the dim light of the oil lamp casting a warm glow on everyone's faces.

The boy took a couple of bites of rice, then suddenly stopped eating.

He turned his head and looked out the window toward the mountain outside the village.

Night had fallen, and the outlines of the mountains blurred into dark shadows in the twilight.

He looked at that shadow.

"Bean, what are you daydreaming about? Eat."

His mother tapped his bowl with her chopsticks.

The boy snapped out of his daze and chuckled.

"It's alright, Mother."

He lowered his head and continued eating.

But in the brief moment between bites of his meal, he secretly glanced in that direction again.

I always felt there should be a very big bird there.

It's bluish-green.

very nice.

But he couldn't remember what the bird looked like at all.

In his arms, on the yellowed paper, four lines of hastily written poetry lay quietly.

The handwriting was very faint, as if it had been written casually.

But it contained these few sentences.

"The bluebird knows not where it will return, and the white clouds drift aimlessly for a thousand years."

"Life is but a fleeting dream, yet I still remember the seasons that passed in the valley."

The boy looked at the words on the note, his brows furrowing more and more as he read.

He then launched into a tirade of profanities:

"Damn it, that old Taoist priest gave me the wrong poem."