Chapter 18: Re-entering Samadhi, Chaos Space

Ye Qin still didn't know how much turmoil his actions had caused the library, or how shocking they had been to those people.

At this point he had already embarked on the return journey; the knowledge he had temporarily absorbed was more than enough, and he needed time to settle and digest it. Of course, this knowledge was only useful for his current needs, while many things he wanted to understand remained unanswered.

For example, Buddhist scriptures and some Daoist texts—he also wanted to read them, but the Wu Du Library didn't have them.

However, at least there was no need to stay in the library any longer.

All he needed to do now was to digest this knowledge well, turn it into something practically usable, and better apply it to his cultivation.

Since he had already been there once, the return trip went more smoothly; Ye Qin hurried along, resting little on the road, and even his speed increased considerably.

The steel‑forest‑like buildings gradually faded away; without those obstructions, Ye Qin's view widened, and looking at the distant green mountains, they seemed like surging ocean waves, tumultuous and mighty.

He turned his head back for a glance; the city veiled in misty water vapor, the mortal bustle, the dusty secular world—all dissolved into the hazy mist, vague and elusive.

In that instant, his heart filled with many reflections.

He used to belong to the city, but from now on he belongs to these vast mountains, with an even broader sky awaiting his discovery in the future.

What lay ahead, Ye Qin did not know, nor did he know how far he could go on this path of cultivation.

But one thing he knew: he was walking a road that no ancient had trodden and no future would follow, relying entirely on his own pioneering exploration.

Perhaps it would be arduous, perhaps he would fail, but precisely because of all these variables, life becomes full of ups and downs.

He was originally destined to die; now, reborn in a serpent's body, living another day is a gain.

Returning once more to the familiar cave, unlike the city's concrete floor, feeling the earth beneath him—its temperature and damp softness that Ye Qin liked—gave him a sense of being home.

Everything inside the cave remained as before; the white bone lay silent, its dark eye sockets gazing at the black little snake.

Ye Qin muttered to himself, "I'm back; this trip brought me a rich harvest. Indeed, sometimes one shouldn't just cultivate nonstop—occasionally going out to look around is not bad."

The white bone naturally wouldn't reply; Ye Qin just wanted someone to talk to, but he couldn't speak human words, and the sounds he made were only meaningless hisses.

Although Ye Qin didn't speak, he occasionally felt lonely in his heart; being the only such oddity in the world was either a blessing or a misfortune.

In his previous life, his fellow humans would drive him away; in this life, as a member of the Serpent Kind, he cannot communicate with them either.

Between heaven and earth, he alone is a serpent‑bodied human soul, awakened spirit and intellect, treading the path of cultivation—yet he has no fellow cultivator.

The Great Dao is fifty, the Heavenly Derivation forty‑nine, avoid one.

He is the sole variable in this heaven and earth.

Ye Qin rested a while, cleared his mind of distracting thoughts, sat cross-legged, gazed at the white bone before him, and entered contemplation.

This library trip exposed him to many books; although the ancients left no clear cultivation methods, the summarized ideas still had many valuable aspects.

He was like a sponge, absorbing the strengths of all schools; the sparks of thought forming in his mind kept colliding, eventually merging and penetrating, which he understood in his own way and grasped the meaning.

The ancients could not enter cultivation; those ideas could not be turned into actual practice, but Ye Qin could—he possessed a hidden key within his body, needing only the right moment.

Adding his innate talent for sudden enlightenment and his spirituality, everything fell into place naturally.

Once again, it was that profound and mysterious feeling.

After such a long time, Ye Qin finally arrived a second time in this Chaos Space; the gray mist kept billowing, as if welcoming his arrival.

Ye Qin felt somewhat excited; he had finally succeeded.

"According to the fragmented records in ancient texts, the sages of old entered the state of meditation only once in their lifetime, and later struggled to find it again, making re‑entry extremely difficult. But I am different from them—I can enter again, and perhaps there will be a third, fourth time in the future."

"This shows that the union of serpent spirit and human intellect can indeed bring sudden enlightenment to all things—it is truly extraordinary."

Thinking of this, Ye Qin's thoughts became somewhat turbulent.

This feeling of transcendent sudden enlightenment differs from ordinary cultivation breakthroughs and can even bring many indescribable changes to his body.

Last time he was dazed and couldn't observe properly; this time Ye Qin carefully surveyed the surrounding scene.

Besides the gray mist and himself, there were no other living beings; moreover, he wasn't sure if it was an illusion, but he felt the mist's color seemed a bit darker this time.

Heaven and earth had not yet been divided; everything had returned to its primordial state, and Ye Qin couldn't tell exactly where this was, so he tentatively called it the Chaos Space.

In this space, Ye Qin felt utterly comfortable, every pore of his body opening as if his very flesh were continually extending.

He couldn't help touching the gray mist; it seemed to sense his motion and scattered away, like a playful child frolicking with him.

Ye Qin suddenly wondered whether contemplating here would yield twice the result with half the effort.

This is like how humans experience deep sleep—while already asleep, they enter another layer of dream space.

Although there was no white bone in this space, it did not hinder Ye Qin from continuing his contemplation.

As this thought rose in his mind, a white light flickered faintly, and the gray mist, like boiling water, produced some chemical reaction and surged rapidly.

A hollow skull inexplicably floated mid‑air, then the body, finally the limbs—as if someone were holding a brush and sketching it out bit by bit.

Finally, before Ye Qin's eyes appeared a complete white bone, vivid and lifelike; if flesh and tissue were added, it would be a living human being.

Gazing at the white bone before him, identical to the one in the cave, truly materialized, Ye Qin instinctively widened his eyes.

From within the white bone two beams of light shot out, instantly covering his body; countless bone joints were continually tempered and forged, emitting a grating sound, as if someone were forcibly stretching his body.

In that instant, Ye Qin felt excruciating pain.

It felt as if ten thousand ants were gnawing at his heart, burrowing through the gaps in his bones, and as if someone were pulling his body with immense force—so painful he could hardly utter a sound.

Ye Qin rolled his serpentine body back and forth without cease; the surrounding gray mist grew restless, swirling around him.

With each of Ye Qin's rolls, the space seemed to be struck by a huge object and trembled accordingly.

He didn't know how long it lasted, but the pain gradually faded, replaced by an indescribable sense of ease.

Like a desert traveler who finally sees a water source, alleviating days of drought.

Ye Qin drew a deep breath, feeling his whole self elevated; it seemed that if he wished, even soaring on clouds and mist right now would be no problem.

He glanced at his body; in that instant, it seemed he saw the white bone glowing, smooth and lustrous like jade.

His serpentine exterior appeared unchanged, but Ye Qin felt that whereas before entwining an Eagle Falcon had taken effort, now it was effortless.

Indeed, as he had guessed, in this transcendent state of sudden enlightenment, everything could achieve twice the result with half the effort.

Previously, such a state had never occurred in the outside world.

Ye Qin's breathing grew somewhat hurried; previously he had tried to contemplate the sun and moon, but likely due to insufficient cultivation, he had failed.

What if it is now?

(End of chapter)