All the heavens, starting as the ruler of the universe

Two days have passed.

Zhao Yi pushed open the door to his room, holding two cups of coffee in his hand.

He looked around and saw Ao Qing lying on the sofa, his suit jacket draped over the armrest, holding an apple in his hand, taking a bite, and staring at the TV screen.

The news is playing on TV.

A female reporter stands in front of the fence outside the Hong Kong base, with a crane behind her as the maintenance team lifts the wreckage of the Dangerous Voyager.

"To date, the PPDC has not made any official statement regarding the origin of that giant sword beam, and speculation among the public is rampant. Some believe it is some kind of new orbital weapon, while others believe it is the result of alien technological intervention—"

Ao Qing changed the channel. On another channel, an expert wearing glasses was gesturing at the screen.

"Judging from its energy wavelength, this beam does not belong to any known weapon system. Its energy decay curve is completely different from that of nuclear power, and it is more like a highly concentrated plasma—"

Ao Qing changed the channel again.

Zhao Yi placed the coffee on the coffee table and sat down beside it. "It's in an uproar outside. The whole world is guessing where that sword light came from."

Ao Qing took a bite of the apple but didn't reply.

"Do you want to go out and explain?" Zhao Yi asked.

Ao Qing shook his head. "Let them guess."

He changed the channel again, and this channel was broadcasting street interviews. A middle-aged woman excitedly told the camera that she had personally witnessed the sword light falling from the sky, and that God had come to save them.

"Or you can make up any reason: an orbital weapon test, a new type of plasma cannon, atmospheric refraction phenomena—just pick one."

Zhao Yi sighed, "How do we explain this to Penticos? He's asked me three times already, and I still haven't figured out how to make it up."

Ao Qing glanced at him. "Why should I explain to him?"

He sat up a little and threw the apple core into the trash can next to the coffee table. "I saved their lives. I'm already being very polite by not asking them to be grateful and put up a longevity plaque for me."

Zhao Yi's expression changed slightly; he seemed to want to say something, but then swallowed it back.

Ao Qing noticed. "What?"

"As for the Longevity Plaque..." Zhao Yi pushed his glasses up, "Actually, some places have already erected them. In one neighborhood in Hong Kong, some people say that the sword was a divine weapon that fell from the sky, that a sword immortal descended to earth. In other areas, people have already made up a complete myth about what happened that day, and it's all over the internet."

Ao Qing leaned back on the sofa, a smile playing on her lips. "Pretty good."

Zhao Yi looked at him. "What exactly are you here for?"

"It's a secret."

"You came into this world just to solve that thing at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean?" Zhao Yi's tone wasn't accusatory; it sounded more like he genuinely couldn't understand.

"I already told you it's a secret." Ao Qing waved his hand. "Just do your best, and you'll find out everything when you have the chance."

Zhao Yi nodded. Although Ao Qing didn't say it explicitly, he could still glean a lot from her words.

"Has the monster's corpse been brought back?" Ao Qing asked.

"It's back, it's in the base." Zhao Yi thought of the monster that was split in two, and the ice at the wound that still hadn't melted.

"Okay, leave it there and wait for me to come over." Ao Qing took another bite of the apple.

"Don't worry, no one dares to touch what you asked for," Zhao Yi sighed. "Do you want this as spoils of war or as food?"

"Someone needs it; it's useless to me." Ao Qing stood up. "Let's go."

"By the way, which world are you from? I've been thinking about this for a long time. I've gone through all the settings in various cultivation novels, but neither 'dragon race' nor 'transmigrator' seems to fit."

Ao Qing looked at him with a mysterious smile, without saying a word.

Zhao Yi waited a moment, then sighed, "Alright, another secret."

———————— Divider

Yellow sand filled the sky.

The ground beneath our feet was cracked like a tortoise shell, with a few clumps of withered yellow grass growing in the cracks, so short they almost touched the ground.

In the distance, there were several short trees with twisted trunks reaching towards the sky, without a single leaf. It was unclear whether they were dead or simply never grew leaves.

The sun was high in the sky, making the ground scorching hot.

Peter wasn't bothered by the hot weather, but the symbiote on his body was clearly feeling uncomfortable.

The sound of camel bells could be heard in the distance.

A group of merchants emerged from behind the sand dunes, their camels carrying loads of goods, with an old man wearing a dark turban leading the way.

More and more people came out one after another, leading camels, each with several cracked lips.

The caravan leader looked to be an old man in his fifties, wearing a dark turban, his face covered with wrinkles etched by the wind and sand.

He walked at the front, holding the camel's reins with one hand and resting the other on the hilt of his sword at his waist.

When he saw Peter, he stopped abruptly.

He had spent most of his life walking through this desert and had never seen a single person walking in it.

His gaze swept quickly over Peter's feet; there were no camels, no baggage, no companions.

There was only one person standing under the sun, without even breaking a sweat.

The chief raised his right hand, signaling the caravan to stop.

The camel bells stopped.

One after another, the camels behind stopped, and the merchants peeked out, some even putting their hands inside their clothes.

The leader did not turn around; he stepped forward alone and stood ten paces away from Peter.

Then he raised his hands, making a fist with his left hand and extending his thumb, while his right hand was open to indicate that he meant no harm, and made a gesture in front of his chest.

According to the unwritten rules of the underworld, the question is about where you came from.

Peter stood still, looking at him, without moving.

After waiting for a long time without receiving a reply, the old man looked up and glanced at Peter.

Then he froze.

Brown hair, fair skin, and facial features completely different from those of people from the Central Plains.

He was not from the Western Regions, nor from the Northern Barbarians, nor from any of the ethnic groups he had ever seen.

The old man stared into Peter's eyes for several seconds; those eyes gleamed with an indescribable color in the light.

"...Who are you from?" The leader's voice was hoarse, and his tone was more cautious than before.

"Chen Zishen." Peter thought for a moment and told him this name that no one had called him in a long time.

"What brings you to block my way?" the old man asked, adopting a very humble posture.

"I'm lost." Peter really couldn't find his way, and there weren't many buildings around, so he couldn't use the spider silk, and using wings would be too conspicuous.

"Are there any towns nearby?" Peter realized from the people in front of him that he might have come to an ancient world.

"There's a town called Blackwater Town about twenty miles ahead, in this direction," the old man pointed ahead.

"Twenty li?" Peter glanced at it; it wasn't far, and the other party clearly seemed to be waiting for him to go first. "Thank you for letting me know."

Twenty miles isn't far; he won't have to walk there for long.

Behind them, the caravan remained stationary, and the old man stood there, his gaze fixed on Peter's back until the figure grew smaller and smaller in the heat.