Chapter 338: The Holy Land of the Ancestor of Literature, the Eighth Ultimate Realm (Moon Ticket Request at Month’s Start)

After the great battle concluded, Li Hao didn't rest. He soon used the Flower Tour Order to contact Zhantan, seeking to discuss painting.

"Are you not going into seclusion?"

Zhantan was somewhat surprised—she hadn't expected Li Hao to be so eager. Barely had the battle ended, and here he was coming to discuss painting. It felt as if the Celestial Prodigy's battle had somehow delayed Li Hao's own artistic pursuits. Which was primary and which secondary? Li Hao mused, "To contact you is equivalent to going into seclusion…"

If he could achieve the tenth stage in the art of painting, Li Hao would be able to sacrifice his Dao to become a saint. That was his most urgent need at present.

Besides the painting Dao, his culinary path was also at the ninth stage—both had prospects of reaching the tenth.

The tenth stage required a deep comprehension of one's state of mind, but before that, he had to quickly accumulate enough experience.

"Qingfeng is so carefree—it seems he hasn't taken the fame and fortune of the Supreme Celestial Prodigy's battle to heart at all."

The Night Patriarch sighed.

"Qingjiu, look at you—learning from Qingfeng. Hey, don't all your names contain the character 'Qing'?"

The Qing Patriarch suddenly noticed the oversight.

A spectral figure stirred—it was Qingjiu. Li Hao had also heard from Zhantan that Li Hao had clinched first place in the Free Person Battle, though that was merely the preliminary selection in the microcosm; the later contests for qualification were where the true clash of prodigies occurred.

"This leisure of spirit—I can't match it," Qingjiu said wryly.

He had been in seclusion recently, and news had reached him that a few demons were causing him some pressure. Though he claimed not to mind, after less than a century of cultivation, the flame in his heart had yet to be extinguished.

"Qingjiu, the so-called peerless master of the chess Dao—yet here you are at our Flower Tour Assembly, never once playing a game with old me; always secretly in seclusion," the Night Patriarch chided. He had long seen through the little flame burning within Qingjiu's heart, yet he neither blamed nor despised him. After all, in their age, many were even more reckless—back then, aside from cultivation, everything was set aside, even if it meant fighting for fame and fortune, snatching treasured relics, and slaughtering all in their path. Now, having experienced it, there was a sense of faded splendor.

"Don't blame Qingjiu. With his strength, a bit more effort would have him break into the top ten of the Supreme Celestial Prodigy's battle. If the gap were too wide, he'd probably let it be," said a spectral youth, himself a half-Saint known as Fire Patriarch.

Hearing these words, Qingjiu gratefully glanced at him and said, "Only you understand me, Fire Patriarch. Now I've been thrust into the spotlight—the expectations from the Holy Land and my master are enormous, and according to the intelligence I've received, there are only a few I should truly fear. With a little extra effort, the top ten is within reach."

"Your ambition is clearly beyond just the top ten," the Night Patriarch observed with a chuckle.

Caught, Qingjiu mumbled, "Old Night, don't tease me. If I break into the top ten, I'll burn incense in celebration."

"Bah, we shall see," the Night Patriarch snorted. "I still await that chess match you promised me ten years ago—let's see when you come find me!"

"Next time, for sure!"

Zhantan then addressed Li Hao, "Are you really coming?"

"Yes." Li Hao nodded.

"Very well—I'll send someone to fetch you tomorrow. Incidentally, I also watched your Free Person Battle," Zhantan said with a light smile.

Li Hao was a bit surprised, and after a moment he replied, "Alright."

Qingjiu looked at Li Hao with envy. "Qingfeng really is carefree. But I hear that the Twin Buddha of the Canglan Realm is rather troublesome—do be careful when you meet him. That guy is also among the candidates for the top ten, and all factions are keeping an eye on him."

"Understood. Thank you for the tip," Li Hao smiled.

After a few more casual exchanges, Li Hao withdrew from the Flower Tour Assembly and retreated into his courtyard to begin his seclusion and sculpting.

The next day, Gui Qingshuang arrived at Li Hao's courtyard, bearing news from the Canghai Divine Dynasty.

"Incense offerings have increased from ten cities to fifteen?"

Li Hao was taken aback by Gui Qingshuang's words, but quickly surmised it must be due to the effects of the great battle.

This meant that the time required for incense-induced sainthood would be shortened by twenty years—now it would take only 240 years.

Had he secured first place in the Supreme Celestial Prodigy's battle, the incense would enable immediate sainthood, and those accumulated offerings would later bolster a saint's realm—more is always better.

After Gui Qingshuang bowed and departed, a flower carriage soon thundered in. From within stepped a graceful young woman in a pink floral dress. She gently tapped the courtyard door and, in a clear, oriole-like voice, announced:

"Moonshadow, on Tanzu's orders, I have come to assist Qingfeng."

Li Hao swept his divine sense and, upon seeing the elegant woman outside, replied, "Wait a moment—just until one incense stick burns."

The woman respectfully consented and quietly waited at the door.

Li Hao then returned to his sculpting. Before long, the statue in his hand was complete—it was the likeness of Yaozu. He placed the statue on a shelf among many others in the courtyard.

Rising, Li Hao brushed off the wood shavings from his clothes. Suddenly, he remembered something. With a wave of his hand, the space of heaven and earth opened, and he called out:

"Xiyan, come out."

A crimson beam of light burst forth from within and transformed into a young girl in a red dress.

"What a rich surge of terrestrial energy!" Xiyan exclaimed as soon as she emerged, immediately sensing that the energy of this Sacred Land far surpassed that of the mortal realm.

Li Hao smiled, "You must be feeling cooped up—come, let's go attend an appointment."

"Not bad—in your own space I can even glimpse outside," Xiyan replied playfully, without inquiring about the nature of the appointment. She then transformed into a red beam and wound herself around Li Hao's wrist, becoming a crimson vine-like bracelet.

Earlier, in the Sword Patriarch's Holy Land, Li Hao—unfamiliar with the surroundings—had dared not release Xiyan, keeping her confined to his own space. After all, the Sword Patriarch's domain was filled with sword cultivators who extolled demon-slaying and were rather hostile toward monsters.

Though in the Sacred Lands of the saints, humans and demons coexisted, not every human saint could accept demons; some human saint lands allied with them, while others were bitter enemies.

Outside the courtyard, Li Hao addressed the woman by the flower carriage, "Let's go."

Moonshadow glanced at the young master, recognizing him as the prodigy who had secured first place in the Free Person Battle—and who had accompanied Tanzu yesterday to observe the battle, displaying the elegant flair of his sword.

With a respectful demeanor, she invited Li Hao onto the carriage and then ordered the dragon-demon pulling it to return.

The flower carriage soared into the air, gliding as smoothly as willow fluff in the breeze.

Passing over mountains and rivers, the crimson vine on Li Hao's wrist extended like a stray lock, surveying the surroundings.

Before long, they left the area of Jidao Mountain, exited the territory of the Canghai Divine Dynasty, passed through the realms of seven or eight other divine dynasties, and finally arrived at a Sacred Land.

Within this Sacred Land, with morning clouds billowing and a surging, majestic qi, Li Hao immediately heard the sound of scholarly recitations—as if ancient scriptures were being chanted.

Focusing his gaze, Li Hao observed that throughout the Sacred Land were academy-like courtyards where disciples sat reciting scriptures. Strangely, as they chanted, images of dragons and phoenixes appeared above the academies; elsewhere, visions of battlefields materialized, with soldiers clashing in fierce combat.

Li Hao's eyes widened in astonishment as he faintly recognized the place.

"Is this the Holy Land of the Ancestor of Literature?"

He inquired of Moonshadow, who had been seated before the carriage.

Her gaze shifted from Xiyan on Li Hao's wrist, and with a gentle smile she replied, "To you, Qingfeng, indeed it is."

Li Hao's eyes sparkled—so Zhantan was an elder of the Holy Land of the Ancestor of Literature? On reflection, it made sense. A half-Saint was either an elder of a Sacred Land or a servant of a divine dynasty. Zhantan, being one of the vice-presidents of the Flower Tour Assembly, was undoubtedly a person of extraordinary status—likely one of the highest-ranking elders in the Holy Land.

"And what are they doing here?" Li Hao asked, eyeing the vivid images above the academies.

Moonshadow smiled, "They are in cultivation. This is the method of our Holy Land of the Ancestor of Literature. The Literary Saint uses the heavenly scriptures as his text, and the book is his Dao. Unlike the Sword Patriarch or the Blade Sovereign's domains, where weapons and combat dominate, our method is to study the sacred texts and, with eloquent verses, slay foes!"

Li Hao suddenly understood. He had long heard that the saints of the Thirty-Three Realms each pursued their own path—doctrines numbering in the dozens.

In the Buddhist tradition, studying scriptures and discussing the Dao was the path.

Sword Saints cultivated through swordsmanship.

The Ancestor of Literature battled with poems and books.

There were even warrior saints who employed strategies and tactics as their means of attack—methods so enigmatic they defied prediction.

The clashes among the saints were essentially debates over the orthodox Dao. Only when one reached the Ultimate Saintly Realm could one claim to be truly orthodox. Yet even then, when ultimate saints contended, no one could decisively prevail—their sacred ways were mutually exclusive.

Li Hao recalled his own path of poetry, chess, calligraphy, and painting. If he channeled his power, all could serve as instruments of death, though normally his sword was the sharpest; hence, chess and painting were mere leisurely pursuits.

Much like his fishing path—long ago he could even catch dragons—with his current strength, even his six-stage fishing method could hook Dao-level dragon demons.

If his fishing method advanced to the ninth or even tenth stage, Li Hao couldn't imagine if even saints would be caught.

The flower carriage raced toward a towering, tranquil mountain peak. Upon landing at the summit, Li Hao noticed only a few disciples in an academy reciting sacred texts. Overhead, however, were visions of weapons and tiger demons clashing in battle.

"Playing accomplice for a tiger!"

One of them softly recited, and the tiger demon transformed into a human form, its strength fierce as it lunged at its opponent.

Another spoke rapidly, recounting a tale of a hunter stalking a mountain tiger; suddenly, arrows shot forth from the void like meteors, piercing the tiger demon.

Li Hao observed with amusement—their duel had an air of words dictating martial might. Had such techniques been employed at a lower cultivation stage, it would have been akin to an early touch of the Dao of cultivation. No wonder they had developed a distinct school of thought.

Every saint's method of cultivation had its irreplaceable strengths, and in their debates, if one's path showed glaring flaws, it would be dismantled and destroyed.

The saying "A saint never dies, the Dao is eternal" was really meant to express that the power of the Dao is indelible, for a saint's realm had fused Dao force with the body—a unity of body and Dao.

Thus, a saint was virtually unkillable, unless one shattered his sacred heart and caused his Dao to collapse, only then could he perish.

"Eh? Is that you?"

While Li Hao was observing the scene, a youth with a folding fan nearby sensed a familiar aura. His face flashed with surprise. He blinked hard, confirming he wasn't mistaken, then abruptly stood up.

Li Hao felt the gaze and turned, curious.

The youth with the folding fan quickly strode over, examining Li Hao from head to toe, and exclaimed in astonishment, "How come you've come to our Tian Tan Peak?"

Upon seeing him, Moonshadow immediately bowed and said, "Greetings, Qingshu Saint's son."

"Qingshu?"

Li Hao asked, "Does Master Song know me?"

"I'm Zhao," Zhao Qingshu's face darkened slightly as he addressed Moonshadow, "How did he end up here?"

Moonshadow replied respectfully, "Reporting to you, Saint, it was Tanzu's invitation—to discuss painting with Qingfeng."

"Discuss painting?"

Zhao Qingshu was momentarily dumbfounded, recalling his own master's exquisite painting skills. Remembering that Li Hao had, during the Free Person Battle, found time to paint, he guessed it must be because his master had taken notice.

"After winning first place, aren't you going into seclusion? Although you defeated Chiguang, you must not underestimate the other Saints," Zhao Qingshu admonished Li Hao.

Since the battle between Li Hao and Chiguang had ended, news had spread that the senior brother from the Book Sea had also entered seclusion. Yet Li Hao, on the contrary, had the leisure to come and discuss painting.

"You're right," Li Hao nodded.

Zhao Qingshu was left speechless. Since it was his master's invitation, he pressed no further. Besides, given his own strength, he could hardly stand up to Li Hao—after all, that sword strike had filled him with a sense of oppression; if he were to face Li Hao, he would likely be forced into silence.

After Li Hao departed with Moonshadow to meet Zhantan, several of the disciples who had just been engaged in combat approached, and one curiously asked, "Brother Qingshu, who was that person?"

"First in the Free Person Battle," Zhao Qingshu replied, watching the departing figure and exhaling. Though he felt a twinge of resentment, it was mostly helplessness.

After all, that person's sword technique was formidable—he possessed a pride that few could match. While others were in seclusion, here he was out and about… Hmph, just wait until you encounter the Twin Buddha and then you'll be crying!

In the rear courtyard of Tian Tan Peak, Zhantan had long sensed Li Hao's presence. When Li Hao entered, she smiled gracefully and said, "You've come."

Earlier, in the ethereal space of the Flower Tour Assembly, she had seen only a grey-black silhouette; now, seeing her in person, Li Hao observed that Zhantan appeared to be in her mid-twenties—like a celestial fairy—with an air of nobility. Though her demeanor was calm, there was an untouchable majesty about her.

Her silhouette alone resembled that of an imperial daughter, and now in person she carried an added hint of loneliness and transcendent isolation.

Li Hao's eyes widened in surprise—the one who had previously amazed him was Yaozu, who was solitary and aloof, as if detached from the mortal realm. This woman, however, exuded a distinctly regal aura.

"Do you prefer painting landscapes or creatures—dragons and reptiles?" Zhantan inquired.

Li Hao returned his attention to the courtyard, where an easel and scrolls were already set up. Feeling at ease, he smiled and said, "I paint everything."

"Oh?" Zhantan replied, her interest piqued. Though both were devotees of the painting Dao, each had his own preference—she, for instance, favored painting dragon beasts and bizarre creatures, especially those with the most strange and grotesque appearances.

"Then today, let us paint a ground-shaking, bizarre dragon beast," Zhantan proposed.

Raising her hand, she opened a portal in the space of heaven and earth and extracted from within a barely clinging, monstrous dragon.

This dragon-demon looked fierce and deformed—its scales were fine and dense, with many displaying reverse patterns; its claws were as sharp as an eagle's, and its tail bristled with spikes like a porcupine's.

"Let's paint this beast—let's see who can capture its awe-inspiring presence, shall we?"

Li Hao nodded. Capturing raw power was simple—that was merely the seventh stage of the painting Dao. It was the artistic conception that proved more challenging. Yet, upon careful observation, he discerned the beast's origins and its path of cultivation.

Without further ado, Li Hao approached the easel that Zhantan had prepared. Both of them turned intensely focused, and they began to paint.

Moonshadow stood nearby, watching with curiosity.

Inside the courtyard, the atmosphere was serene—the light filtering through the tree shadows broke into scattered patches of golden brilliance on the ground.

Time passed quietly, punctuated only by the sound of ink being ground.

After about an hour, both painters ceased their work. Li Hao set his brush aside and looked at the dragon-demon in his painting. Though it still lay there, barely clinging to life and showing no overt majesty, its eyes radiated a fierce, grim intensity—as if ready to unleash a desperate, life-or-death strike at any moment.

At first glance, it appeared as a sickly dragon; yet on closer inspection, it sent shivers down one's spine.

On the other side, Zhantan's painting was also complete. In her work, the dragon-demon—though posed similarly to the real creature—exuded a majestic aura, as if it might roar and leap out of the painting at any moment.

Zhantan had painted with meticulous care and was quite satisfied. After setting down her brush, she stretched languidly, her graceful curves on full display, a subtle fragrance wafting about.

She then moved to Li Hao's easel. Glancing at his work, she was momentarily taken aback. The dragon-demon in his painting was rendered with a lifelike precision—nearly identical to the real thing—but such quality was merely the foundation in the art of painting. Given Li Hao's talent, his work should have been far superior. Looking again closely, she suddenly sensed a sharp, potent aura—as if a dragon's roar of lethal intent echoed within his mind. Her expression changed, and she instinctively stepped back half a pace.

The real dragon-demon before her was of the Dao Method stage—a casual grasp of it would do little harm. Yet the dragon-demon in Li Hao's painting sent a chill down her spine, causing her to retreat slightly.

Gathering her wits, Zhantan examined it again. The more she looked, the more she realized that Li Hao's work possessed an immense, profound presence—beyond mere brushwork. It was an overall force!

This force was hidden within the dragon-demon's form, embedded in its artistic conception, and that conception itself was interwoven with the Dao.

The more Zhantan observed, the more awed she became—suddenly realizing that Li Hao's painting far surpassed her own. His earlier work in the Imperial Hall had been hasty and had not truly showcased his mastery of the painting Dao.

Is this the true attainment of entering the Dao through art?

Overwhelmed with admiration, Zhantan sighed and said to Li Hao, "Young master, your painting is such that even if I practiced for another ten years, I'd still feel inferior."

"How long have you been practicing painting?" Li Hao inquired.

"Three hundred years," Zhantan replied, her cheeks briefly flushing. After speaking, she gathered up the dragon-demon, casually dispersing the lingering stench from the courtyard, and then asked, "You've just arrived—was your journey arduous? Would you like something to eat?"

"What do you have? That dragon-demon just now looked appetizing—how about some roasted dragon claws?" Li Hao suggested.

Zhantan recalled that Li Hao had mentioned his fondness for culinary arts and couldn't help but laugh, "Very well—then I must sample your cooking and even help judge Baizu's skills."

Li Hao laughed heartily. As Zhantan retrieved the dragon-demon and swiftly removed its claws, Li Hao set about scaling and cooking it.

Before long, a savory aroma wafted across the mountaintop.

In the front courtyard, a few disciples reciting scriptures suddenly paused and sniffed.

"What is that scent?"

"It smells divine—is dinner ready?"

Following the aroma, they discovered it emanated from their master's courtyard, and dared not disturb.

Inside, Li Hao had sliced the dragon meat and, together with Zhantan, began to savor it.

The peaceful indulgence reminded Li Hao of his days in the small courtyard at Tianmen Pass.

"Mmm…" Zhantan, who ordinarily wasn't drawn to the strong, gamey flavor of dragon meat, found that when prepared by Li Hao it exuded an irresistible aroma. She took a gentle bite, her eyebrows rising in delight, and remarked, "Your culinary skills seem even superior to Baizu's."

"Have you tasted his cooking?"

"Yes—his flavors were exquisite, leaving me longing for more. Unfortunately, once he learned of my appetite, he refused to cook for me any longer. Humph!"

Zhantan said this with a light pout.

Observing the delicate mix of dignity and a hint of coquettish charm in her demeanor, Li Hao couldn't help but steal a few more glances.

Realizing she'd perhaps revealed too much of her true self, Zhantan, while eating, asked, "You're not even 30, yet you excel at everything—how did you cultivate yourself to such heights?"

Li Hao smiled and replied, "If you have something, you too can excel."

After finishing their meal, Zhantan led Li Hao to admire her past paintings. Adopting a humble tone, she sought his guidance.

Li Hao, not holding back, pointed out the shortcomings in her work.

To his surprise, as he critiqued her work, he also gained experience. Each time he noted a deficiency, he received a prompt indicating an increase in painting Dao experience—though only a few hundred to a thousand at a time, it accumulated into a substantial sum.

They exchanged words back and forth. Zhantan, a half-Saint of the Holy Land of the Ancestor of Literature, became almost like a student under Li Hao—occasionally asking questions, and Li Hao answered with profound insights into the painting Dao, making her feel as though her meridians were flowing and her eyes were opened wide.

"Indeed, simplicity arises from complexity; to distill the complex into the simple—now that is brilliance!"

Li Hao quoted a passage from a Dao scripture and, in doing so, gained over ten thousand experience points. This insight left Zhantan feeling as though her inner sea of understanding had been shaken—the realization of the painting Dao seemed to subtly unsettle even her sacred path.

A half-Saint had only just begun to glimpse the sacred Dao, establishing his own path; once perfected, with abundant incense offerings, one could ignite three incense sticks and achieve sainthood on the spot.

"Both complexity and simplicity arise naturally—they cannot be forced," Li Hao said.

Zhantan's eyes shone with a mysterious light as she gazed at him. The more they conversed, the more she realized that Li Hao's state of mind was extraordinarily elevated—something even a half-Saint like herself could scarcely attain.

It was hard to imagine that this young man, barely under 30, was already on the verge of Ultimate Saintly Rebirth and had even awakened fragments of his past memories. She truly believed him.

Yet she knew that if he truly were so, he wouldn't be lingering here wasting time—he would have already embarked on his own path and returned to his original self.

Li Hao remained at Tian Tan Peak for a time, spending each day painting and discussing art with Zhantan. Zhantan also presented him with several famous paintings—three of which could be inscribed onto a panel. Li Hao requested them, and Zhantan readily agreed.

Li Hao did not rush to inscribe them; once inscribed, the famous paintings would burn away and vanish—a loss that could never be undone.

In addition, Li Hao painted over a dozen scrolls for Zhantan. The initial experience he gained in the painting Dao nearly reached sixty thousand! This surprised him—other half-Saints typically garnered around fifty thousand; his was more by over ten thousand. This also meant that when facing other half-Saints, Zhantan would likely be overwhelmingly superior.

No wonder she was the vice-president of the Flower Tour Assembly—a top talent among her peers.

During this period, Zhao Qingshu visited Zhantan to seek advice on cultivation. Zhantan brushed him off casually. Seeing her master conversing so amiably with Li Hao, Zhao Qingshu felt a twinge of discontent—a strange, inexplicable pain.

Eventually, he ceased seeking out his master and returned to seclusion.

Regarding the art of painting, Zhantan was utterly awed by Li Hao. Besides the painting Dao, she even found time to inquire about his plans for upcoming battles.

The more she admired him, the more convinced she became that Li Hao would go far. Although the path to the immortal realm had already been severed, with his innate talent, attaining sainthood was well within reach; to let such potential wither away would be a pity.

"If there's anything you need, do let me know. With your guidance during this period, my painting skills have advanced—but still, I can't compare with you," Zhantan said.

Li Hao, not one to be pretentious, considered for a moment and said, "I have everything except for cultivation techniques. Do you have any leads on that?"

"Cultivation techniques?" Zhantan was momentarily taken aback—prodigies rarely lacked cultivation methods, for they refined their own techniques and continuously improved.

She smiled gently, "That's a small matter. Whatever cultivation technique you desire, just speak up. However, the techniques of the Holy Land of the Ancestor of Literature are rather unconventional—I cannot let you cultivate those. As for other methods, I can certainly help you find some. You may choose to your heart's content."

Li Hao's eyes brightened. Indeed, this vice-president of the Flower Tour Assembly had connections far broader than his own, and with her long years of cultivation, obtaining techniques was not difficult.

"Then many thanks—the more techniques, the better. I wish to gather the best from all paths," Li Hao said.

Zhantan raised an eyebrow. Though the words were simple, the task was as arduous as scaling a mountain. She recalled that the Sword Saint had chosen the path of the myriad beings' sword cultivation—a journey fraught with hardship before his ultimate success, after which he became fearsome.

On cultivation matters, she offered no further counsel—each had his own path once reaching such a stage.

"A trivial matter—I have divine offerings from ten dynasties, each capable of opening a treasury of cultivation techniques for you to select from," Zhantan declared, her eyes blazing with determination.

Li Hao paused, then burst into laughter, "That's wonderful."

At that moment, he recalled Zhantan's mention of the Holy Land's techniques. Possessing the path of poetry and calligraphy, perhaps these techniques could greatly enhance the experience on my poetic path.

For him, the poetic path was among the most difficult to advance—it relied solely on reciting famous poems from a past life to scrape together experience.

"If possible, might I also peruse the Sacred Texts of Sages from the Holy Land of the Ancestor of Literature?" Li Hao asked, feeling the request might be somewhat presumptuous.

Zhantan raised an eyebrow and smiled, "You wish to study the cultivation techniques of the Holy Land? But you have already embarked on the sword path. The literary Dao is an entirely different sacred path—two completely distinct systems that are hard to balance. Even if you were to combine them, it wouldn't greatly boost your strength. In true combat, it's always the blade that delivers the kill—no matter how thick its spine."

Li Hao nodded, understanding. He simply wished to accumulate experience for his poetic path.

"If you wish to see them, I'll take you along. However, you lack the literary sensitivity—by the time you've read one, you might find it dull," Zhantan laughed.

"Will that affect you?"

"Except for the timeless masterpieces personally passed down by the Literary Saint, everything else can be shown to you," Zhantan replied.

Li Hao smiled and nodded, quietly recording the favor in his heart.

That very evening, Zhantan sent out orders, and the next day she informed Li Hao that if he wished to view cultivation techniques, he could now do so in the ten Divine Dynasties.

Li Hao thought for a moment, but decided that first he must enhance his Dao Domain.

Accompanied by Moonshadow at the reins, he visited the Divine Dynasties that Zhantan had designated.

These Divine Dynasties had previously watched Li Hao's prodigy battle and treated him with great courtesy—aware that he was a servant of the Canghai Divine Dynasty and unable to be swayed, yet forging a good connection was still beneficial. Besides, with Zhantan's involvement, his prestige was assured.

Chatting casually with Moonshadow, Li Hao learned that Zhantan originally hailed from one of the highest three realms of the Thirty-Three Realms—a supreme princess of a celestial dynasty. No wonder her aura was so noble, exuding the disdain of an empress.

As he toured one Divine Dynasty after another to peruse cultivation techniques, Li Hao's collection steadily grew.

After he had visited all ten Divine Dynasties, Li Hao returned to Tian Tan Peak with Moonshadow. After greeting Zhantan, he retired to the quarters she had arranged for his seclusion.

The cultivation techniques inscribed on his panel began to be continuously deduced and transformed, elevating his Dao Domain. Moreover, the number of layers in his Dao Domain increased from 220 layers—rapidly advancing…

With the passage of time, the layers multiplied: 280 layers… 300 layers… 330 layers…

When he had completed the techniques from the ninth Divine Dynasty, Li Hao's Dao Domain had reached 358 layers!

He then cultivated the techniques from the tenth Divine Dynasty, and his Dao Domain expanded further in no time.

With a humming sound, when his Dao Domain reached 360 layers, Li Hao suddenly felt his inner sea tremble. The density of his Dao Domain seemed to have reached a limit; the overlapping layers and the mutual attraction of the Dao Domain's force fields were gradually merging!

The many Dao thoughts within his Domain appeared to form a perfect cycle, undergoing a transformation.

A torrent of information surged in his consciousness, and his body seemed to merge with his Dao Domain, as if becoming one with heaven and earth.

He could clearly sense the wind whistling through, the sands slowly shedding their husks, and even the space itself swaying like flowing water. Moreover, Li Hao sensed a terrifying power—one that seemed to be Time itself!

He could distinctly feel every change within his Dao Domain—as if with a single thought, space could be frozen, its swaying halted.

And that Time itself appeared to slow down; that seemingly irreversible force was gradually becoming sluggish.

(The End)