Chapter Twenty: The Reason for the Journey Through Time

Tongtian was stunned. Hearing the Willow Sage call his name felt both familiar and strangely foreign. Since his arrival in the prehistoric world, he had never mentioned to anyone that his true name was “Tiantong.” Even among the three Pure Ones, the Supreme Lord Laozi and the Primordial Lord, they only called him “Little Lingbao,” or by his full title: the Supreme Sage Lingbao, Lord of Mystical Existence, the Emperor of Subtlety—simply put, Supreme Sage Lingbao. Yet, how did the Willow Sage know?

Sensing Tongtian’s doubts, the Willow Sage smiled gently and said, “I emerged from chaos as one of the three thousand demon gods. You, a soul from the future, ought to know some of my abilities.”

“Could it be space?” Tongtian guessed. To absorb an enemy’s spiritual treasures and leave them helpless—that was the power of a world. In a world, its master was like a deity. Unless your cultivation surpassed the world’s master, you could only await your fate.

“You are half right,” the Willow Sage responded. “When space holds both light and darkness, life is born. Then, that realm is no longer merely space, but a plane—a world.” With this, Tongtian nodded in understanding.

The Treasure Mouse leaped joyfully on the Black Ox’s back, while within the Nine-Petaled Purple Lotus, the Great God Pangu maintained a grand formation, concealing their presence from the Heavenly Way.

Understanding that the Willow Sage had important matters to discuss with their teacher, the Treasure Mouse and Black Ox played together quietly.

The Willow Sage continued, “By chance, I intercepted a message transmitted from the Heavenly Way to the Grand Dao. The message decreed that after the last demon god emerged, we demon gods would be driven to slaughter each other. I could not allow this, and so I sought to reason with the Grand Dao.

“But the Wheel of the Heavenly Way appeared to bar my path to the Dao. Words failed, and battle erupted. In the end, I drew the Wheel of the Heavenly Way into my own world, where I held it at my mercy.”

“And then?” Tongtian was fascinated, drawn into the tale—who wouldn’t crave such secrets?

“Do you know the origin of the Heavenly Way?” the Willow Sage asked.

“I do not,” Tongtian replied, shaking his head. Even reading novels in the future, he had never encountered an explanation. He’d searched for it on his past life’s computer, finding only that it meant “the rules and principles governing all things.” But if so, why were there sayings like “Man can triumph over Heaven” or “My fate is mine and not the heavens’”? Why did mortals so often seek to defy the heavens?

“All our thoughts and divine abilities stem from primordial chaos,” the Willow Sage explained. “At our birth, we demon gods merged our minds and powers in gratitude, and from that, the Grand Dao was born. The Dao, standing above, watched over us as a parent, for it was our creation and dwelled with the Primal Chaos Lotus, its power far beyond ours.

“In time, the Dao grew weary. Watching our rampant destruction of chaos, it created the Wheel of the Heavenly Way to balance the three thousand demon gods.

“When I was about to destroy the Heavenly Way, the Dao intervened, saying, ‘I grant you a sliver of hope—rebirth after calamity.’ Then the Dao took the Heavenly Way away.

“Still uneasy, I gathered all the demon gods—Pangu had not yet been born—and together, we forced open the Gate of Space. At that very moment, you perished, and we pulled you into the World of Primordial Origin. It was a perilous moment, nearly a failure due to the interference of the Heavenly Way.

“When you opened your eyes to see Pangu, do you now understand why he seized you but did not destroy you?”

The Willow Sage gazed at the sky, his eyes deep, as though reliving the distant past.

Tongtian finally knew the truth of his arrival. His lingering doubts fell away, and all inner knots were untied.

By now, the hidden grand array was complete, rendering the Heavenly Way blind to them. The Nine-Petaled Purple Lotus floated to Tongtian’s side, and inside, the Great God Pangu addressed him: “When you entered my cosmic egg, I knew you were an outsider. That is why I did not destroy you.”

Remembering those circumstances, Tongtian shivered involuntarily. How fortunate—had the Willow Sage not explained, he would have been reduced to dust, no, not even dust!

“When I split the heavens, I told you to hide within the egg. Then, as I was spent, I summoned you into my body. In this way, the Heavenly Way was truly appeased.” That was why Pangu had protected Tongtian.

“There are still three immeasurable calamities ahead. When the Wheel of the Heavenly Way reaches its peak, even the Dao will fall under its sway, with no rivals left in the primordial world. Pangu and I have other pressing matters, so you must cultivate diligently.” The Willow Sage’s words were laden with meaning.

“So that’s my role,” Tongtian mused—he was destined to oppose the Heavenly Way.

“Do not lose heart. Here, a gift for you.” The Willow Sage drew a scroll from his sleeve and handed it to Tongtian.

Tongtian examined it. It resembled tiger skin, but not quite—faintly, an array shimmered within.

“There is a formation in this scroll, and its aura is heavy with baleful energy!” he noted.

“In time, you will learn its purpose,” the Willow Sage replied, not revealing more. Yet Tongtian was certain it was a formidable treasure.

“As for your Treasure Mouse and Black Ox, their fates are intertwined with yours. The Treasure Mouse especially is blessed with great fortune, wisdom, and perseverance—its achievements will rival yours, only lacking in opportunity.” The Willow Sage praised them to Tongtian.

Tongtian agreed. How could the future Tathagata Buddha or the Bull Demon King be anything but eminent?

“We have important tasks ahead. You are safe within this formation for ten thousand years—no cultivator can break it. After ten thousand years, you will emerge, so do not let us down. For now, our strength remains unrecovered, so the future rests with you.” With that, the Willow Sage tucked the Nine-Petaled Purple Lotus into his sleeve.

“Rest assured, senior, I will not disappoint you,” Tongtian promised. Cultivating here suited him; the great war of the three races was about to erupt, and he had no word from the Supreme Lord Laozi or the Primordial Lord, while the Willow Sage had his own affairs. Safety was paramount.

In this primordial world, where immortals roamed and slaughter was everywhere, he could finally rest easy.

“My young friend, farewell,” the Willow Sage said, stamping his foot and vanishing without a trace.

When, Tongtian wondered, would he be that free and gallant? He couldn’t help but daydream.

With the Willow Sage gone, the Treasure Mouse led the Black Ox over to Tongtian.

“Time to cultivate the ‘Mystic Sutra of Supreme Lingbao.’ In ten thousand years, I’ll venture forth and begin my quest for spiritual treasures.” As a soul from the future, Tongtian knew exactly where to find such treasures—wasn’t the Blood Sea and Mount Buzhou full of them?