Chapter 5: Luohou: If You Can Talk, Then Talk More!

Up and down, the four directions constitute Yu; from ancient times to the present is Zhou.

The silvery-white light of Zhou is the backdrop of time; across the boundless river of spacetime, one sees only endless emptiness.

Plop~

A single fish broke through the boundary between illusion and reality and leapt into the River of Time.

“It’s been a long time since I last came here—I’ve missed it.” The fish happily bubbled, glancing around at the eternal, unchanging scenery, finding it increasingly familiar.

“The only pity is I can’t stay long here—otherwise, big trouble will come.” This time, Chenxing chose the mainstream of the River of Time—the Mother River of Spacetime.

Unlike the tributaries where one can swim freely, the pressure here is terrifying even for primordial deities; a single misstep risks sinking into its depths.

Chenxing came here not to become a sunken fish in the river, but to evade disaster and refine his own Dao.

He resisted the erosion of time while carefully avoiding whirlpools, ensuring he did not accumulate too much karmic entanglement.

While contemplating the Dao, Chenxing saw many “kindred spirits” along the way.

Those fish had dimmed spiritual lights—they lacked consciousness like His—and had lost their way in the river, drifting aimlessly with the current.

“I hope you one day achieve transcendence.” Chenxing bubbled, feeling no great sorrow—he had seen too many such cases.

The Dao is hard; some fall, some reach the summit.

Across the eternal heavens, it has always been so.

Bidding farewell to these lost companions, Chenxing continued swimming forward.

“Hey, there’s movement!”

Deep in his Dao contemplation, Chenxing was suddenly startled by a voice. He turned to look and saw a pitch-black shadow reflected in the water ahead.

“Is that… a boat?” How could there be a boat in the Mother River of Spacetime?

Chenxing looked bewildered—he saw an oar dipping into the water, stirring up whirlpools.

There was a “person” on the boat!

【Transcending the Mother River of Spacetime—who the hell is this freak?】 Shocked, Chenxing cursed inwardly. He was about to leave when he suddenly heard a familiar voice from the water’s surface.

“Thank you, friend, for coming to ferry me.”

“You’ve returned faster than I expected.”

“No choice—if I’d been slower, Pangu would’ve gone all out.”

“Oh? So you’ve met everyone you wanted to see?”

“I’ve met them all.”

“Good.”

Then came a long silence. The oar gently stirred the water, sending slow ripples outward.

No way—could he really run into someone this big in the River of Time? When he heard Luohou’s voice, Chenxing went numb. He strained every ounce of effort to conceal himself, hoping not to be noticed.

At the same time, a question rose in his mind: two voices—one was Luohou, but who was the other?

“Don’t you want to ask anything?” Luohou’s voice sounded again.

“Can I ask anything?”

“Yes.”

Seated at the stern of the small boat was a white-robed man, his face as radiant as jade, his bearing elegant, wearing a smile as warm as spring breeze: “Then I’ll ask.”

Luohou gave a slight nod.

“Who exactly are the three thousand demonic gods?”

“...”

“When Pangu opened heaven, did he hold the axe with one hand or two?”

“...”

“How many times did Pangu swing his axe when he carved out Honghuang?”

“...”

“Did it hurt when Pangu’s axe struck you?”

“...”

“And—when heaven was opened, was there more clear qi or turbid qi?”

“...”

The white-robed man fired off question after question.

Luohou remained silent for a long while.

Finally, He turned, his deep eyes fixed on the figure at the stern: “Shall I send you back to the dawn of creation to see for yourself?”

“Better not.”

The white-robed man shook his head vigorously: “I’m just a ferryman—how could I withstand Pangu’s opening axe?”

Luohou raised an eyebrow, asking with deep implication: “A ferryman above the River of Time?”

“The River of Time is still a river.” The ferryman gently rowed. “If you can’t answer, forget it.” Luohou’s lip twitched—he already regretted boarding this boat.

After a long pause, Luohou suddenly said: “I met two friends at the source of the River of Time.”

“That must’ve been lively,” the ferryman glanced at the silvery-white water.

Luohou stared at him: “You don’t seem surprised?”

“Honghuang’s sky is high, its forest vast—anything can fly. What’s so surprising?” The ferryman had barely finished when he felt a surge of danger. He hurriedly added: “Wait—I didn’t mean you, I meant… uh, tell me more about those two friends.”

Luohou glanced at him: “Hongjun, Yang Mei. Don’t provoke them now.”

“Why would I provoke them? I’m just a ferryman.” The ferryman shook his head—it was them, indeed.

“Is that so?” Luohou made no comment.

The ferryman looked at Luohou and asked: “There’s one thing I truly want to ask.”

So you were just pretending earlier? Luohou said coolly: “Ask.”

“To attain the Great Luo realm, must one go to the dawn of creation—or even before?” The ferryman’s expression was solemn, his eyes locked on Luohou.

Luohou shook his head: “Merely adding flowers to brocade.”

“I went because I had karmic debts to settle—otherwise, do you think I’d willingly take that axe blow?”

“You really got slashed by Pangu?” The ferryman blinked, studying Luohou curiously, then grinned: “So it hurt, huh!”

Luohou glared at him, annoyed: “If you can talk, then talk more!”

The ferryman snapped his mouth shut.

Finally, he raised a hand into the air, waving it before Luohou’s eyes: “Uh…”

“Ask if you have something.”

Luohou paused, then added: “Ask something I can answer.”

“I want to know—did they have the same situation?” This time, the ferryman was serious.

“Same.”

Luohou gave a definite answer: “No one wants to carry burdens forward.”

“I see.” The ferryman nodded—so Luohou, Hongjun, and Yang Mei truly had roots in Chaos?

Then what did they mean by “settling karmic debts”? Cutting ties with their past—or reclaiming something they’d lost?

The ferryman sank into thought.

“Do you have anything else to ask? If not, I’m leaving.”

Luohou waited in place for a while.

“Not for now.”

Upon hearing this, Luohou’s figure vanished instantly.

“Oh, by the way—I forgot to mention one thing.” Luohou returned. He looked at the ferryman: “If any Chaos demonic god tries to enter Honghuang through the River of Time, make sure to stop them.”

“Huh?” The ferryman froze.

Wait—what did you just say?

“I stop Chaos demonic gods?”

Luohou looked at the stunned ferryman, a faint smile curling on his lips: “Don’t worry—Their state isn’t better than yours. Here, they can’t beat you. And they might not even come.”

They?

Holy shit—there’s more than one Chaos demonic god?

The ferryman shot to his feet.

At that moment, Luohou had already vanished.

Staring at the spot where Luohou had disappeared, the ferryman lost his composure for the first time in countless eons: “Luohou! You bastard, come back and explain yourself!”

“What the hell did you three do at the source of the River of Time?!!”

Still fuming, the ferryman took a deep breath and grabbed the nearby oar.

“Friend, you’ve listened long enough.” The ferryman looked down into the water, rolling up his sleeves.

“They’re gone—why not come up and chat?”

SPLASH!!

The oar struck down, sending a massive spray of water through the River of Time.

Plop~

A fainting little fish landed on the ferryboat.

“Hehe, lucky day for a meal.”

The author’s previous novel, 2 million words completed, had a rather peculiar tone—friends interested can check it out.

(End of chapter)