Master of Heaven and Earth - -

Time flew by, and two-thirds of the fifteen years Cold Yan had spent in cultivation had already passed.

Indeed, he had been cultivating here for a decade, and for ten long years, he had either been absorbing spiritual power to enhance his skills or on the path of learning those skills through spiritual power.

After ten years of laying a solid foundation, Cold Yan had reached the late stage of the great tribulation of wind and fire, just a step away from the heaven and earth dharma form. Yet this one step had taken him several years to attempt, with no success.

“My spirit soul is gone, and my spiritual vein is nearly depleted of spiritual power. How much longer will this step take, given that I am already at the late stage of the great tribulation of wind and fire?” Cold Yan couldn’t help but complain as he looked up.

He realized that relying on sitting and absorbing spiritual energy was no longer a viable path for breaking through. He was at a bottleneck in his cultivation realm!

Standing up, he focused his thoughts, causing the nearly exhausted spiritual vein beside him to dissipate, leaving the last bit of spiritual energy to merge with the surrounding environment.

Stretching his body, Cold Yan performed a cleansing technique, tidying up his unkempt appearance. Then he flew out of the cave and soared into the distance.

“I haven’t seen what the world looks like yet. Since I’ve hit a bottleneck in my cultivation, I might as well explore my own world,” Cold Yan murmured softly as he accelerated away.

He initially thought he would reach the end of the world in no time, but after flying for a day and a night, he still hadn’t arrived. Given his current speed, covering a thousand miles in a single breath was well within his capability.

“Huh? What’s this?” Just as he marveled at the vastness of the immortal land, he inadvertently discovered a village!

It seemed to have signs of life.

He expanded his divine sense to encompass the entire village but found no cultivators. It appeared to be an ordinary village in the mortal realm!

The villagers worked at sunrise and rested at sunset, living self-sufficiently in a well-ordered society. They left their doors unlocked at night, allowing children to play joyfully and the elderly to enjoy their twilight years peacefully. In this world without cultivation, people had less malice and more purity.

Cold Yan stared blankly at the village, recalling the final line from the seven emotions and six desires technique: “One gives rise to two, two gives rise to three, three gives rise to all things; all things originate from one. The ‘one’ represents the mortal heart; only by gathering this mortal heart can this technique be perfected!”

With a sudden realization, Cold Yan approached the entrance of the village, gazing at the settlement for a long while, lost in thought. Then he raised his hand, performed a seal, and bound his cultivation level and memories for five years. After five years, the seal would automatically lift.

Once the seal was complete, Cold Yan collapsed at the village entrance and fell unconscious.

…

Cold Yan was rescued and began to live in the village.

Life was peaceful. Each day, Cold Yan helped Old Li with farm work, darting around to assist various families, hunting in the mountains with his peers, playing games with the children, and even catching fish in the rice fields.

Over time, the villagers grew fond of this enthusiastic young man. Whenever someone needed a hand, they would call on him, rewarding his help with fish, pork, chicken, and even fresh vegetables from their gardens.

Of course, being a strong, handsome young man in his prime, Cold Yan naturally caught the attention of eligible young women. However, this amnesiac version of Cold Yan was straightforward and oblivious to romance, causing many girls to become upset and leave.

…

Five years slipped away in the tranquility of daily life. This year marked the fourth since Cold Yan arrived in the village, and after tonight, it would be five years.

That night, he tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Finally, he got out of bed and climbed up to the roof to gaze at the stars.

The sound of hoofbeats shattered the stillness.

The thundering of dozens of galloping horses approached from a distance, growing louder, startling the village dogs into a frenzy of barking.

Cold Yan quickly jumped down, hearing the hoofbeats drawing nearer.

Over the past two years, this world had not been peaceful. Two years of natural disasters had left nearby villages without food, and some had turned to banditry out of desperation, resorting to robbery. After the calamities, the village now faced human threats.

Cold Yan was certain that mountain bandits had come. He rushed into his house, awakened the two elderly residents, explained the situation, and urged them to flee to the back mountain. Without a moment’s pause, he raced to the village entrance, shouting, “Run! The bandits are coming!”

The villagers were roused from their slumber. Those who realized the danger quickly bolted from their homes, heading toward the back mountain, some even carrying the last of their grain.

But it was ultimately too late. Dozens of mountain bandits surged into the village, killing and looting. Cries for help, pleas for mercy, and wails filled Cold Yan’s mind, drowning him in despair.

A mountain bandit rode up on horseback and stopped right in front of Leng Yan. He was the only surviving villager among the slaughtered, as the bandits had killed indiscriminately and looted the food, setting the village ablaze behind them.

Leng Yan stared in disbelief at the hellish scene before him, memories of the past five years flooding his mind, each villager’s face vivid in his recollection.

With a trembling voice, he asked, “Why? Why are you doing this?” Anguish filled him as he loathed his own helplessness.

The mountain bandit, chewing on a blade of green grass, looked disdainfully at Leng Yan. Then, with a squeeze of his legs, he raised his machete and swung it down toward Leng Yan.

In a sudden burst of pain, Leng Yan curled up, clutching his head in agony, then screamed, “Why?!”

The bandit pressed on, his machete descending relentlessly.

“I’m asking you why. If you don’t answer, you might as well die,” Leng Yan said, still huddled on the ground, but this time his voice was unnaturally calm.

As soon as the words left his lips, the bandit with the machete disintegrated into a cloud of blood mist just a foot away from Leng Yan, the mist slowly descending and seeping into the ground.

The hour had struck; five years had passed.

The other bandits, having never witnessed such a phenomenon, stood frozen in shock, forgetting even to flee.

In an instant, all the bandits transformed into blood mist, as if they had never set foot in the village.

Leng Yan soared into the air, gazing down at the village that resembled purgatory below him.

Mortal beings could not control the power of the soul; upon the death of their bodies, souls returned to the heavens and earth. Leng Yan was not capable of resurrecting them.

After a long silence, Leng Yan waved his right hand, causing the entire village to sink, forming a large pit. With a wave of his left hand, the surrounding soil flew into the air and then slowly settled into the pit, covering the village completely in a blanket of earth.

Once he completed this task, the sky began to pour down the first rain in two years, starting gently and then intensifying, nourishing the parched landscape below.

Standing in the rain, Leng Yan clasped his hands behind his back and allowed the downpour to drench him.

He reflected on the past five years, images of the villagers replaying in his mind.

“I really have become part of the mortal world,” Leng Yan murmured to himself.

Then, a strange phenomenon began; all the mortal beings in this world fell into a deep slumber, and glowing white lights drifted out from within them, gathering towards Leng Yan.

Leng Yan stared in amazement at the sight before him.

Dots of white light flew in from all directions, coalescing into a luminous orb. The shape of the orb shifted continuously, eventually taking the form of a heart.

As the white light dissipated, a bright red heart floated in front of Leng Yan, pulsating rhythmically.

Leng Yan recognized that this seemingly ordinary heart was, in fact, the mortal heart.

Slowly, the heart drifted toward him, merging into his left chest, passing through his own heart until the two became one.

Suddenly, the seven emotions and six desires technique within Leng Yan began to operate on its own, accelerating rapidly. Just as he felt he could bear it no longer, it came to a sudden stop.

Then, Leng Yan perceived that his realm was breaking through; the seal of the great tribulation of wind and fire shattered upon contact, and he entered the realm of heaven and earth dharma form!

But that was not the end. Spiritual power surged into Leng Yan from all directions until it reached saturation. This abundant spiritual power condensed into a massive dragon, crashing against the gates of the mid-stage of the heaven and earth dharma form.

Ultimately, Leng Yan’s strength stabilized at the late-stage of the heaven and earth dharma form. Although he had advanced, he had barely made it through, unable to refine his power further.

“It’s time to go outside,” Leng Yan thought, and withdrew from the immortal land.