Chapter 487: Taiyi Divine Thunder

With the roar of this question, Chen Hang felt everything before him split clean in two.

He seemed trapped within a chaotic void—colorless, formless, no sky, no earth, no sun, no moon, no crystal, no light.

The Great Void exists within heaven and earth, without direction or location, neither qi nor form—

He seemed to flow upstream along the river of time, arriving at that ancient era shortly after the primordial sages had opened heaven and created earth, when above there were no nine qi and below no eight directions, a primordial chaos.

Gazing out, he saw only a deep, dark, unfathomable expanse, as if containing all things, stirring in him an inexplicable awe and a creeping, overwhelming dread that filled his mind.

“The Great Void is inherently empty—how can all things arise?”

Chen Hang pondered, slowly murmuring the words.

In the next instant, a great light suddenly flared, its origin unknown, its destination unseen.

Where the light passed, the chaotic void echoed once more with a thunderous roar.

It was said to be the first sound ever uttered at the opening of heaven and earth, revered as the “Root of Thunder,” possessing immeasurable power!

“Zhā!”

Chen Hang’s eardrums buzzed; his mind went utterly blank, thoughts halted.

Amid the roar of this thunder, subtle changes began to unfold within the chaotic void.

Clear qi rose high and pure, turbid qi sank low and spread; heaven and earth naturally became clear, and shapes of sun, moon, and stars slowly coalesced.

…

“Thunder has no form—it takes shape through qi; shape is not real; reality precedes qi. All lightning and thunder forms you see are illusions.”

At this, the deep voice spoke again, and Chen Hang’s vision shifted once more.

A primordial qi hung silently in the void, vast beyond measure, boundless and immense.

As this divine qi began to move, countless forms emerged in the void—tiny as grass, insects, and ants, vast as the heavens and stars, colors red, blue, yellow, green spinning like wheels, dazzling and bewildering, stirring his spirit and soul.

…

“Thunder holds the mechanism of creation and destruction: spring thunder awakens all life; autumn thunder purges all filth; one birth, one death—this is how the Dao of Heaven is completed.”

Suddenly, a thunderclap rang out. Chen Hang looked down and saw first a mountain lush with green, brimming with vitality.

But soon another thunderclap sounded, and before him the scene shifted to one of grim desolation—evil vapors swept clean, autumn leaves rustled and fell from every tree, the wind mournful.

…

“The essence of summoning thunder lies in the clash and separation of yin and yang, internal manipulation of mystery, uniting spirit with body, spirit with qi.”

…

“I am heaven and earth; heaven and earth are I. Forgetting self and other, perceiving things and communing with spirit—all hinges on the heart’s tiny field.”

…

“When thunder strikes, yang qi is released; after the strike, yin qi closes again, yang qi retreats once more…”

…

The deep voice continued expounding, its resonance rolling down from above.

The voice was like a devoted teacher, at times revealing the fundamental truths of thunder’s Dao, unveiling profound mysteries, guiding Chen Hang to glimpse the supreme heights of cultivation.

At other times, it taught him the secrets of wielding thunder—how to suspend the body in emptiness, guard the dantian, let pure yang illuminate the qi cavity, how to internally harbor water and fire, expel ill omens, ensuring thunder’s release harms neither sinews nor organs…

Thanks to the aid of the All-Knowing Lamp of Wisdom, his innate nature and wisdom had been greatly enhanced, and Chen Hang kept pace without falling behind.

He followed the deep voice’s guidance, either contemplating and realizing, observing subtle insights, or adjusting his mind and body, silently manipulating mystery.

Thus, his mastery of the Taiyi Divine Thunder steadily deepened and solidified.

He had touched a solid threshold; if he crossed it, he would enter another realm entirely.

At this moment, Chen Hang suddenly awoke from his meditative state.

He looked around and saw his spirit had not yet returned to his physical body—it still remained within the visionary realm born of his cultivation insight.

All around was pitch black, empty and silent.

The voice expounding the teachings had also ceased, the entire space utterly still—as if a pin could be heard falling.

Chen Hang was not surprised. He steadied his mind, took a deep breath, and silently activated the Taiyi Divine Thunder incantation, letting it circulate through his body.

As magic power surged, a faint rustling sound arose at his ears, like the cracking of an eggshell; threads of bright light pierced the darkness, radiant and brilliant.

The more skillfully he wielded the incantation, the faster the darkness receded; the crackling of shattering sounds merged into a continuous roar.

By the time Chen Hang reached the final stage of his qi circulation, his surroundings were nearly luminous, glowing brilliantly.

Chen Hang paused his cultivation slightly, scanned the surroundings, stood silently for a long while, then sighed in awe:

“Shattered the primordial mystery of three and five, parted the jade of creation’s design; the wondrous intent of the ineffable lies at the center—within a hair’s breadth, nameless and formless!”

Having finished, he did not hesitate. He raised his wide sleeves, stepped forward, and gently pushed out his hand.

With this motion, everything before him shattered with a thunderous crash—as if struck by divine thunder, violently exploded and utterly destroyed, gone without trace!

In the void, a sphere of bright light swiftly entered Chen Hang’s body, causing him to glow internally and externally alike, as if sun and moon had taken root within him, his divine radiance blazing, beyond measure!

And at the same moment, in the present-world Buddhist realm.

The weary old monk suddenly heard a great roar, like a thunder deity raging in fury, shaking heaven and earth!

He looked up and saw the vast spiritual energy that had filled the sky for four years, stretching over a hundred li, suddenly trembled—then, like a receding tide, it withdrew.

In moments, all the spiritual energy coalesced into a fist-sized mass of chaotic thunder qi, hovering majestically above Chen Hang’s head, instantly twisting the heavens—cool winds surged, dark clouds gathered from all sides!

“No way. He’s already mastered it?”

The old monk stared, stunned. He rubbed his eyes, stood motionless for a moment, still finding it hard to believe.

The black clouds above were thick as ink, pressing down as if ready to crush mountains.

Amid rolling thunder, heavy rain soon poured down like a waterfall crashing from the heavens, splashing mud and muddying the grass and trees.

Yet in this torrential downpour, the world was not dark—it was brilliantly bright.

The chaotic thunder qi was slowly shedding its outer hue, gradually revealing its true golden light, radiating great brilliance, like a blazing sun spreading its majesty, dazzling and overwhelming!

The old monk saw that though this thunder qi was fiercely yang and intense, it was not merely yang—it carried a grand, primordial aura of yin-yang duality, the separation of xuanyuan.

Like a great axe poised to cleave heaven and earth, ready to divide yin and yang and give birth to all forms!

To be struck by it meant the spirit would scatter, the life root would crumble, reduced utterly to ash.

This familiar resonance stirred the old monk’s memory of his unpleasant past with Zong Jingtian.

He stepped back two paces, his face darkened, and he frowned.

“Didn’t that thief of a monk expect this? To be honest, even I’m shocked. With such a jade tree in our midst, my Yucheng Sect can flourish for ten thousand years. If he attains the Great Dao, ha…”

Fu Lao, strolling over with hands behind his back, sighed deeply, glanced at the scowling old monk, and smiled:

“I’ve battled you in this Buddhist realm for countless years—it’s been dull and tiresome. Finally, something joyful has come. Not easy at all.”

“Four years. Four years to enter the Taiyi Divine Thunder, and with a Golden Core. Monk, tell me yourself—since ancient times, how many such figures have there been?”

The old monk’s expression flickered uncertainly. He wanted to speak, but held back, only sneered twice: “Without my help, could he have entered Taiyi Divine Thunder in just four years? Dream on!”

“Yes, yes. That’s true enough.”

Fu Lao, unusually, did not argue. He nodded slightly in agreement.

The old monk glanced at him, puzzled:

“Are you mad with joy today? You’ve never been like this before.”

“Monk, you came from Baoya Temple—you must know better than anyone how vital disciples are…”

Fu Lao pointed at Chen Hang, who sat in meditation, and sighed:

“They are the hope for the sect’s eternal prosperity, determining the height it will reach in the future. Never underestimate them.

In any Dao lineage, if only a great cultivator stands guard, but no young disciples rise to carry the burden, it’s like a giant tree towering beyond the clouds, yet lacking leaves and branches—it’s incomplete.”

The old monk felt a surge of unspoken rage. His temple vein twitched. He bit back his anger:

“Don’t insult me by striking at my past. Say what you mean outright—don’t keep dragging up Baoya Temple!”

Fu Lao smiled. “Monk, I’ll give you one last sincere plea: come to Yucheng. Do we not now have proof of our sect’s flourishing, with such a disciple?”

The old monk fell silent for a long while, then replied firmly: “You’re deceiving me. Do you take me for a child?

We are both ancient ones. What haven’t we seen? The universe has never lacked immortal blossoms and Dao seeds. But frankly—can they all smoothly attain the Great Dao?”

Let me recall some I remember…

The monk Tanxian of Wuzheng Temple, who achieved the Three Great Buddha Transformations while still in Golden Core. Lu Che, who entered Langxiao Great Forbidden True Light at Golden Core. Han Dan, who stirred the Sword Banner of Huazang while still in Furnace Realm, drawing three Sword Lords from Fuchu Mountain to descend and teach.

And Master Shen Xi—he once presented a gift at the Ten Thousand Heavens Assembly, using his self-created method, ‘Ascending and Descending Paths Diverge,’ making all Nascent Soul cultivators present pale in comparison. Even Crown Prince Changming praised his ingenuity and took him as a disciple.

All were extraordinary talents. But where are they now?”

The old monk slowly shook his head:

“Chen Hang is indeed exceptional, but he’s not worth my bet. The Dao of Heaven is vast—who knows what the future holds?

After returning to Wuliangguang Heaven, even if Baoya Temple declines, with Cixian Guang Buddha of Shanjian Temple guarding us, I’ll be safe.

And with my abilities, if I help Shanjian Temple produce more powerful disciples, Cixian Guang Buddha may, in his joy, find a way to break my primordial barrier!”

One Golden Core. One ancient Buddha.

One unknown immortal Dao sect. One familiar Zen Pure Land…

The old monk’s true preference was clear.

“You’re as stubborn as a nailed-down weight. Fine.” Fu Lao shook his head and stopped urging.

As the two spoke, the downpour suddenly ceased. The wind stilled, the mist dispersed, heaven and earth returned to clarity.

The old monk watched as the thunder qi, now transformed into pure golden light, slowly sank into Chen Hang’s spiritual platform. Within moments, it vanished entirely.

After the golden light settled, a slow, resonant thunder sound echoed through all nine heavens, ringing clearly.

“Done!” Fu Lao clapped his hands and laughed.

At the same time, Chen Hang felt a profound ease, his spirit refreshed and expansive.

He now knew he had finally entered the realm of Taiyi Divine Thunder, and was about to withdraw from meditation when his spiritual awareness suddenly flickered.

He looked up and heard a deafening boom; the darkness before him vanished entirely, and his spiritual awareness was pulled into a vast, boundless cosmos.

Wind thunder, water thunder, fire thunder, metal thunder, demonic thunder, qi thunder, Tian Gang thunder, Bagua thunder, San Yuan Jiao Tai thunder, Ji Du Bao Sheng thunder…

Countless thunderforms danced wildly, converging into an incomprehensible throne of thunder, as if all the mysteries of the cosmic root were contained within it, filling every direction of the void.

Compared to it, sun and moon were but faint glimmers—utterly insignificant!

Upon the thunder throne sat only one white-bearded Daoist, eyes closed, his divine radiance radiating outward, evoking the awe of gazing upon primordial chaos—his magnitude unfathomable!

“Grand Ancestor Da Xian?”

Chen Hang’s heart stirred.

…

…

The old Daoist upon the thunder throne stood only seven feet tall, no different from an ordinary man, yet against the immeasurably vast throne, he was merely seated upon a chair—yet not a single iota of his glory was diminished.

Chen Hang saw the elder wearing feathered robes, crowned with celestial ornaments, bearing the seal of thunder, his face lean and sharp, radiating an aura of quiet authority—exactly matching the portrait of Grand Ancestor Da Xian enshrined in Yuanchen, without the slightest discrepancy.

He was not surprised by this sight, only waited patiently.

This was the final trial one must face when cultivating Taiyi Divine Thunder, a Daoic prohibition deliberately placed by Grand Ancestor Da Xian.

Taiyi Divine Thunder, this majestic, world-stabilizing art, was the true core of Yuanchen Sect; even Yuanchen’s own disciples were not lightly taught it. Only those of exceptional talent and sufficient Daoic merit could attempt its cultivation—let alone outsiders.

Not long after the Dao Court’s collapse, Grand Ancestor Da Xian had specially embedded one of his spiritual essences deep within Taiyi Divine Thunder.

Since then, every cultivator of Taiyi Divine Thunder, upon completing their practice, would be drawn by the thunder-art into a vast emptiness, facing directly the spiritual residue left by Grand Ancestor Da Xian.

If the cultivator was a Yuanchen sect disciple, it was simple—they could pass easily, and the Daoic prohibition would not harm their spirit or soul.

But if an outsider stole Taiyi Divine Thunder through secret means, he would instantly be devoured by the prohibition’s backlash, his spiritual sense and primordial soul utterly ground to dust, with no chance of rebirth or transcendence.

Moreover, the prohibition would travel along the thief’s body into the mortal world, triggering an immediate response from Yuanchen Sect—when Yuanchen moved, bloodshed and chaos were inevitable!

At this moment, Chen Hang did not wait long.

He faintly saw the closed-eyed Grand Ancestor Da Xian upon the thunder throne open his eyes slightly, nod once—and Chen Hang again flickered, instantly escaping from the depths of the prohibition.

“This is…”

Chen Hang recalled the scene just now, truly startled.

Upon a slight inner check, he saw the All-Knowing Lamp of Wisdom had not departed; the five years promised still had about one year remaining.

He steadied himself, ceased further thought, and turned his focus to his cultivation realm, beginning to contemplate the inner visualization arts.

Golden Core Third Stage—Form Within Spirit.

Inner Visualization is also called Minor Manifestation, always difficult to cultivate, let alone the Manifestation he sought: “Great Is Qian Yuan”—even harder still.

With the Lamp Spirit’s power still available, he would not waste this opportunity—he would make full use of it!

A year passed swiftly; on this day, Chen Hang, deep in meditation, suddenly woke involuntarily.

He slowly retracted his magic power, pondered for a moment, then rose and smiled faintly at Fu Lao, who was approaching him, bowing respectfully:

“I have not disgraced your trust.”