Chapter 671: Chapter 388: Becoming the Most Ancient One! Traversing Eternity in a Thought, Lamenting Ages in a Word (Long Chapter)
The Way of the Saint.
Even if it’s just the Way of the Saint formed by the fusion of five True Saint level Confucian sages, its power far exceeded Zhang Fusheng’s expectations.
Swallowed into the stomach, yet in reality integrated with oneself, transforming into strands of ceremonial Daoist rhythms, permeating his entire being, enhancing his Essence, Qi, and Spirit,
he could clearly feel the myriad rays of auspicious light flowing within his body,
with every gesture, the majestic Daoist rhythms followed, instantly invoking the laws of the universe, dispersing the Yin Qi of the surrounding Netherworld upon contact.
A single word sets ceremonial law; a punch subdues star rivers.
In other words.
"With the blessing of the Way of the Saint, I... am equivalent to the combined efforts of these five sages."
Zhang Fusheng murmured in his heart, slowly exhaling a breath of the vast aura of the mortal realm, the swirling air manifesting the awe-inspiring majesty of Confucian ceremonial law.
The celestial positions of the five sages had been stripped by his capability of containing celestial decrees, now suspended by his side, dulled in Spiritual Light,
and those five Confucian sages, all looked as if they had lost their families, with the once saintly and wise ceremonial rhythm utterly vanished.
"You... who are you?" The old sage gritted his teeth, asking with a tremor in his voice.
"As I said."
"I once raised the Supreme Saint to adulthood, taught him to read, understand etiquette, and know virtue."
"I crowned him, gave him his courtesy name, and he erected a tomb for me, raising a bluestone stele."
Zhang Fusheng caressed the holy mountain, which clearly soared to pierce the heavens and the earth, yet in his mere eight-foot stature,
this heaven-piercing holy mountain strangely defied the logic of heaven and earth, stably supporting itself within the confines of his palm.
The mountain was both larger and smaller than his palm, this bizarre dislocation of time and space causing the souls of lesser beings, gazing from afar, to tremble and nearly vomit blood, fainting.
With one hand holding the holy mountain, Zhang Fusheng pushed open the wooden door of the thatched hut and, under the watchful eyes of all celestial gods and Buddhas, slowly stepped into the hut halfway up the holy mountain.
Again, an extreme sense of contradiction and dislocation.
Inside the thatched hut,
everything was unchanged from the past.
The long sword hanging on the wall was rusted, the lacquer on the sheath peeled off long ago, yet faintly Daoist rhythms flowed, warm at touch,
the mottled square table had a thin layer of dust settled in the wood grain, not covering the four-character inscription — ’Teacher’s Great Virtue’,
the clumsy writing was carved by a little child who had just learned to write back then.
In the corner of the square table, even the candlestick that shone softly through countless rainy nights stood, its oil not entirely used up.
Zhang Fusheng strode within the hut, touching each mark that carried memories, with a look of trance upon his face.
Refining Illusion into Reality... this is the true Refining Illusion into Reality!!
The might of Wa Empress was far beyond imagination — getting a glimpse of her power, how terrifying must the others, the Supremes, be?
As for the unrivaled among the Supremes, the Three Pristine Ones, how must they be?
The warmth rising within Zhang Fusheng’s heart, stirred by the memories, instantly dispersed thoroughly,
he took down the rusty sword from the wall, this sword had accompanied him through over twenty years of worldly storms, endured the wash of countless eons, nourished by the proved Daoist glory of the Supreme Saint, long ceased being ordinary iron,
even becoming a Daluo Supreme Treasure, comparable with the Immortal-slaying Gourd, the Purple Electric Hammer, or any of the Four Immortal-slaying Swords!
The difference being.
Zhang Fusheng, though able to wield Daluo Supreme Treasures now, couldn’t fully refine any of them, but this rusty sword was different — this was originally his sword.
No need for refinement, it was from the beginning as one with his mind and spirit, commanded as easily as an extension of his arm, akin to that Taoist Scripture.
The sword was both heavy and light.
"The moment illusion became reality, Zhongni must have already foreseen the coming events and sensed something amiss at once..."
"This sword, this hut, could be considered His gifts to me... as well as that grave mound."
Zhang Fusheng murmured in his heart, instantly understanding — the reason Saint Confucius didn’t mind this grand cause and effect suddenly incurred upon him was likely partly for the dignity of Wa Empress, and partly because he was destined to be at odds with the Three Pristine Ones.
Exhaling slowly, Zhang Fusheng stepped out of the hut, standing before that lone grave,
the grave wasn’t high, covered with a thin layer of green grass, the blades touched faintly imbued with the Daoist rhythms of the holy mountain,
he sensed the indescribable immortal remains enduring countless ages within the grave, the faint Daoist rhythm on the bones,
resonating with his own breath, as if connecting across vast ages to harmonize with him.
Suddenly, Zhang Fusheng grinned, with a bit of relief in his smile, yet hidden sharpness.
Under the astonished gazes of innumerable people, gods, and even Daluo True Spirits,
he actually dug open the grave mound, revealing the bones within!
The bones had also followed the Supreme Saint’s path of proving the Dao, transcending the ordinary into sainthood.
Zhang Fusheng squatted down, pressing on the dark grass before the grave, reaching out gently to touch the brow of the bones.
Then.
Under the countless gazes,
those bones filled with the Way of the Saints began to tremble,
the high-frequency tremor progressively aligning the bones with the young man, until completely integrating into his own bones!
Man and bone unified.
Thus, the grand cause and effect incurred by the Supreme Saint had been irrevocably settled.
Zhang Fusheng stood up.
"The bones of a saint, ah..."
He sighed lightly.
This was truly the bone of a saint.
The proved Daoist glory of the Supreme Saint actually radiated this longevity-limited mortal bone into saintly remains!
What is a saint?
It is Daluo!
In other words...
all two hundred and six bones of mine have inexplicably become Daluo remains!!
Time, years, Daoist rhythm, history...
All these became incomparably clear before Zhang Fusheng’s eyes, this was the characteristic of Daluo, the quality of Daluo surpassing time and history!
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