Chapter 500: Stone May Be Shattered, But Its Firmness Cannot Be Taken

Instantly, the waves calmed and the wind fell silent.

Amidst the vast sea and sky, a radiant aura suddenly appeared, blazing fiercely, towering like a cloud mass over a hundred zhang high, reflecting the sun’s light with solemn majesty!

Deep within the aura lay a single point of pure, unblemished light.

Though no larger than a grain of rice, still faintly visible, it radiated a profound, cosmic significance—the very pivot of creation, the source of yin and yang, as if containing all things.

Almost at the moment the aura appeared, flames erupted spontaneously from Chen Hang’s body.

This was no ordinary fire, but one born from his Golden Core, condensed from the yang qi generated during his breakthrough—a sign of inner vision, extraordinary and rare.

The flames first rose from his soles, then surged upward along his legs, soon engulfing his entire body in roaring fire.

Even the fishing boat beneath him was consumed, crackling and collapsing rapidly under the blaze.

Though the fire burned fiercely, treating seawater as if nonexistent, not a wisp of smoke emerged—only brilliant, radiant light, impossible to look away from.

When the flames finally faded, a young Daoist stepped forth calmly, robes fluttering, riding the void and wind, ascending step by step toward the heavens.

The rough-skinned, weathered, blackened fisherman had vanished.

In his place stood a handsome Daoist clad in black robes, bearing an air of noble grace.

His bearing was sublime, his demeanor elegant, his expression radiating an indescribable ease and serenity.

Chen Hang merely swept his sleeve, and the blazing aura suspended in the clouds obeyed as if commanded, converging swiftly into his body, settling quietly beneath his dantian, merging inseparably with his grade-one Golden Core.

“Seventeen years watching the river’s flow, I have finally comprehended: spring and autumn never change, all rivers return to the sea—just as all creation, though following its own path, ultimately converges as one.”

“Thus… it aligns perfectly with the opening words of ‘Great is the Qi of Qian’: ‘All things are rooted in the abyss, their principles boundless!’”

Chen Hang gazed inward and laughed aloud.

After seventeen years of seasonal erosion, day after day watching the river, he had shattered the barrier before him and successfully entered the third level of Golden Core.

Upon attaining this realm, he had also perfected his inner vision to its full potential, completing his Golden Core cultivation to match the achievements of Jun Yao and Ji Fa Kai.

If this news reached Xiao Ming Marsh, it would surely stir another wave, elevating his renown further!

“This realm is the utmost cultivation permitted at the Dan Yuan Assembly—saving me the arduous effort of further perfecting my inner vision. But what form will this year’s Dan Yuan Assembly take?”

Chen Hang’s gaze flickered, his thoughts stirring.

As he knew, the Dan Yuan Assembly’s format never simply repeated past precedents.

It was jointly decided by the ancestral masters of Qian Yuan Si Chen Palace, and each session’s rules differed.

Yet one thing could be anticipated—

Though participants might gain slight advantages by relying on allies or banding together, such tactics were never true Dao.

In the final reckoning, victory depended solely on one’s own magic power and divine arts; others could not intervene.

Though the Dan Yuan Assembly did not resemble mortal fighting arenas where competitors took turns battling for rankings, it employed a free-for-all format.

Yet even under varying rules across sessions, victory still hinged entirely on individual magic power and divine arts.

Those who, with mediocre cultivation, sought to win the Dan Yuan title through scheming and alliances would never succeed in a true Dan Yuan Assembly.

For this universe of myriad heavens remains a glorious age where divine power manifests openly.

A single Golden Core True Person can destroy cities and topple nations; a Pure Yang True Immortal possesses the power to shatter realms and obliterate continents!

Strategy and cunning are indispensable, yet they apply only among cultivators of similar cultivation levels.

Against a giant far surpassing one’s own strength, even the most ingenious schemes are useless—crushed effortlessly, like dust flicked away.

“Yin Wuji, Gu Yi, my sister… among peers, these three cannot be underestimated.

How many talented youths will emerge from the Eight Sects and Six Clans among their veteran Golden Core cultivators?”

Chen Hang mused inwardly.

The Dan Yuan Assembly was a blessing reserved exclusively for cultivators of the Eight Sects and Six Clans.

Even the most outstanding disciples of great powers such as the Eastern Sea Dragon Clan, the Twenty-Four Southern Sea Demon Cultivators, the Fan Zhong Heavenly Beings, the Thunder Court, or the Fish Dragon Dao had no qualification to enter the Dan Yuan Assembly.

Yet even among the Eight Sects and Six Clans, not everyone could compete.

Each sect must hold its own ritual assembly to select three disciples to represent them.

Since each sect sent only three, the total number of Golden Core True Persons participating was precisely forty-two.

Before coming to Xi Du Sea, Chen Hang had received a sect talisman message.

It mentioned not only the Dan Yuan Assembly’s date and the Grand Preceptor Jin Zhao’s edict, but also that his sect’s internal ritual had already selected its final three participants.

The three representatives from Yucheng were Chen Hang, He Lizhi, and Liu Jianwu.

Though Chen Hang had not participated in the sect’s ritual, his numerous renowned victories spoke for themselves.

After news of his defeat of Cui Ju in Xi Ping Land and his victory over Lu Shen spread through Xiao Ming Marsh, no one in the entire region doubted his combat prowess.

His selection was thus entirely deserved.

As for He Lizhi, he had risen unexpectedly, defeating veteran Golden Core cultivators like Xu Lang and Yang Jiao while still at the second level, and finally secured his spot.

Originally, Chen Hang had expected He Lizhi to clash fiercely with Shi You, for Shi You was no mere opponent to be dismissed.

At the Four Academies Competition years ago, Shi You deliberately stepped back to avoid Chen Hang’s spotlight, causing many cultivators to regard him as cowardly.

But in the next Four Academies Competition, he nearly swept all opponents, subduing them all to claim the title of Top Ten Chief, and afterward chose the “High Void Secret Essentials” from the Yucheng Three Scriptures, joining the Xuan Jiao Hall.

In Chen Hang’s view, Shi You’s background and innate talent were equally matched with He Lizhi’s.

Yet this man, upon his master’s guidance, discovered a cave-fortress left by his past life, skipped the ritual entirely, and departed for the celestial realm to absorb his past-life legacy.

Such decisiveness surprised many.

Yet perhaps Shi You simply knew he could not defeat Chen Hang and refused to waste effort.

After all, even fellow sect members could become final rivals in the Dan Yuan Assembly.

Though Shi You was the reincarnation of a great Buddhist Arhat, his past-life memories remained far from awakened; with his current strength, defeating Chen Hang was utterly impossible.

As for Liu Jianwu, he was the only veteran Golden Core among Yucheng’s three representatives.

Aside from being born into the Chi Shuo Liu Clan and studying under Left Hall Director Ji Lingyang, he had nothing remarkable to note.

Though a talented scion of his clan, he could not compare to Ji Fa Kai of old—merely ordinary…

“Our three representatives are already confirmed. But the selections of other sects remain undisclosed. Will I face Chen Yu’s hounds at the Dan Yuan Assembly?”

“Yet now… is not as before…”

Chen Hang smiled faintly at this thought.

Gazing at the seamless blend of water and sky, his wide sleeves swaying in the wind, he felt a deep sense of reflection.

Since being named True Disciple and receiving the Xi Ping Land mandate, to now completing his inner vision—

Unconsciously, over sixty years had passed since he left Dongzhou.

Fighting for Zheng Ge Land, entering Xu Huang, mastering True Water, refining Divine Thunder, cultivating inner vision…

He recalled his last return to Dongzhou from Long Gong—for the Four Academies Competition, to join the Yucheng Main Sect and find a place to belong.

This time, returning from beyond the heavens—

He would seize the Dan Yuan title, achieve fame across the Nine Provinces, and ascend as a supreme being among the True Persons of the cosmos!

“Time flies like a passing horse, waves vanish like lightning… In this world, how many sixty-year spans remain if one does not pursue the Ultimate Dao?

Even if the path is lonely and perilous, one’s will remains firm and unyielding—stone may be shattered, but its hardness cannot be taken away. This is my unyielding heart!”

At this, Chen Hang let out a clear, resonant chant; his body was suddenly wrapped in a mighty gale, stirring brilliant clouds into surging tides.

He cast one final glance toward Zhuxi Village, smiled faintly, and turned away without looking back.

Instantly, the gale lifted him into the heavens, vanishing utterly from sight, leaving only faint traces of pure qi—gone in a blink…

…

Far away, thousands of li beyond, in the state of Liang, Zhuxi Village.

In Chen Hang’s small courtyard, He Chang and He Ji now swung their hoes; after a long while, they finally unearthed a wooden box, the size of a human head, from the deep pit they had dug.

He Ji wiped sweat from his brow and leaned against the large osmanthus tree Chen Hang had planted himself, now lush and full.

He looked at He Chang, lost in thought, and asked:

“Father, where has Uncle Chen gone? Why did he go to such trouble burying a box under this tree?”

He Chang did not answer. He stood still for a long while, then climbed out of the pit, lifting the wooden box.

“Help me.”

He Chang said to He Ji.

He Ji responded, quickly grabbing He Chang’s arm and hauling him up—his strength so great that He Chang stumbled, nearly falling.

“You’ve grown tall, but not smart!”

He Chang steadied himself and chuckled, then gestured for He Ji to check the courtyard gate again.

Once certain no one was watching, he entered the inner courtyard and carefully opened the box.

Inside were few items: a letter, several vials of pills, and a tiny wooden sword, no more than an inch long.

When the wooden sword appeared, the room seemed to flash with sudden brilliance, blindingly bright.

After blinking and regaining his sight, the sword had dimmed entirely, as if the light had been an illusion.

He Chang did not touch the sword first, but swiftly took the letter, paused, then carefully unfolded it.

The letter was short—barely a hundred characters.

When he reached the final passage, he burst into laughter, making He Ji lean forward eagerly to see.

“You are no disciple of the Dao, nor do you seek it; yet you married a virtuous wife and raised a wise son. Your life is complete.

I offer these trifles as tokens of our bond—words cannot express my gratitude—”

He Chang repeated the final lines silently, his gaze momentarily distant.

“Brother Chen… you truly were an immortal?”

He whispered inwardly.

Afterwards, when He Ji pressed him repeatedly, He Chang came to his senses and carefully put away the elixir and the small wooden sword, saying nothing more for the time being.

“The elixir has many benefits: regulating primordial energy, replenishing qi, refining marrow, and consolidating truth; as for the wooden sword, Brother Chen said it contains not only a technique called ‘Dragon Tiger Golden Robe,’ but is also a token and divine edict.”

He Chang merely smiled and changed the subject:

“But I no longer have any use for these—let’s see what kind of destiny you youngsters have!”

“Tomorrow, let’s go to Taifou Tower for a meal. Don’t go out to fish with your boat.”

“It’s neither festival nor holiday—why are we going to Taifou Tower?” He Ji asked, bewildered.

Taifou Tower was a well-known restaurant in Xianqiu City; Chen Hang and He Chang often dined there during festivals and holidays, so He Ji was no stranger to the name.

“I returned too late and missed seeing Brother Chen off—this meal, I—”

He Chang was slightly melancholy, but when he saw He Ji’s wide-eyed expression, a wave of helplessness surged in his chest.

“I’ve truly lost my wits—why am I telling you all this? Just listen!”

“Oh.”

He Ji nodded.

The next day, in Taifou Tower, Xianqiu City.

As the wine flowed halfway through, He Chang glanced at his wife and children beside him; amid the bustling merriment, he suddenly, as if guided by some unseen force, picked up a jug of wine and staggered alone to the window seat on the left, gazing out over the railing.

That was Chen Hang’s usual seat, unchanged for years.

He Chang had once wondered why—outside the window was merely ordinary river scenery, something both men had long grown accustomed to, with nothing remarkable about it.

Yet today, for some reason, upon arriving at this spot, everything seemed subtly different.

He heard the howling wind and rushing water clearly beside his ears.

Looking out, he saw only vast sky and boundless earth, where water and clouds merged indistinguishably.

A great green mountain loomed majestically at the horizon, cleaving the endless river into two streams; beyond the mountain, the two currents eventually reunited at the edge of heaven, roaring onward into the distance.

It was midday, and a great sun hung high in the sky.

When a few thin clouds were gently blown away by the wind, the bright sunlight, now unobstructed, instantly bathed heaven and earth in radiance so fierce it forced one to close one’s eyes—even the river water seemed painted with molten gold.

Heaven and earth had become one fused mass of molten gold, utterly indistinguishable!

The grandeur of this scene left He Chang stunned; after a long while, he slowly came back to himself and exhaled a long breath.

He raised his jug high toward the heavens in salute, and suddenly laughed aloud in his heart, crying out:

“Brother Chen, what a magnificent sight!”

…

One month later, Dongmi Province, Changli Island.

After Tu Shan Ge finished his duties and dismissed the officers, he stepped out of the hall.

Gazing at the sights within the island, his eyes flickered slightly, and a joy he could not conceal welled up within him.

After decades of arduous effort, he now saw Changli Island’s already splendid aura growing ever more magnificent, like flowers blooming in brocade, like jade adorned with added brilliance.

As the one who had labored and toiled, Tu Shan Ge could not help but be moved.

Recalling those days in Nanyu Yangshan, when he had led a clutch of little foxes, life had been desperately hard—he could barely scrape by, wishing he could split a single strand of spiritual energy in half.

And after the Yangshan Daoist seized Yangshan’s foundation, things had grown even worse…

Just as Tu Shan Ge stood lost in thought, a cool breeze suddenly swept past behind him; his peripheral vision caught a young Daoist.

“Master?”

Tu Shan Ge first froze, then burst into overwhelming joy: “Master, you’ve finally returned?”

“Yes.”

Chen Hang reached out to steady him; his gaze lingered for a moment over the island, then shifted toward the direction of Xiyi Mountain, paused briefly, then withdrew, smiling lightly:

“I’m back.”