Before the Heavens Had a NameChapter 1: The Immortal Tomb
In the Upper Realm, there existed a saying passed down through countless generations.
All things have an origin.
Even the sun and moon had their beginnings. Even the stars scattered across the boundless heavens were born from the primordial chaos.
The Immortal Emperors, revered as supreme existences by trillions of living beings, were no exception.
They had been born.
They had cultivated.
They had overcome countless tribulations to reach their present heights.
Everything had a beginning.
Everything had a history.
Everything could be traced back to something.
Or so the inhabitants of the Upper Realm believed.
Until the Immortal Tomb appeared.
The Tomb Without an Origin
No one remembered when the Immortal Tomb first appeared.
According to the oldest surviving records, it had emerged in the Boundless Void Mountains, a forbidden region situated at the intersection of nine ancient territories.
The mountains themselves were already considered mysterious.
Spatial storms frequently swept across their peaks. Ancient formations buried beneath the earth occasionally awakened without warning. Even powerful cultivators avoided venturing too deeply into the region.
Yet one day, something appeared that made every danger within the mountains seem insignificant.
A palace.
It stood upon the highest peak, surrounded by nine towering black pillars.
Its walls were darker than the void between stars. Its gates bore no inscriptions, and its roof seemed to merge with the endless heavens.
There were no defensive formations.
No guards.
No visible spiritual fluctuations.
Nevertheless, not even an Immortal Emperor could damage its walls.
When the first great powers arrived, they believed the palace to be the inheritance ground of an ancient expert.
Such places were not uncommon in the Upper Realm.
Supreme cultivators often left behind their techniques, treasures, and legacies before entering seclusion or departing for unknown regions.
However, the Immortal Tomb was different.
There was no trace of its creator.
No records of its construction.
No indication that it had ever been built.
It was as though the palace had always existed, waiting for the world to notice it.
The Ancient Dragon Court sent three Dragon Emperors.
The Phoenix Race dispatched its supreme elders.
The Human Court invited the greatest formation masters of the era.
Even several ancient beings who had not appeared for millions of years emerged from seclusion.
Together, they attempted to uncover the palace's origin.
They examined its foundations.
They searched the surrounding space.
They traced the flow of time.
One Immortal Emperor even attempted to peer into the palace's past through the River of Time.
What he witnessed was never revealed.
Upon returning, the emperor remained silent for three thousand years.
When his descendants finally asked what he had seen, he gave only one answer.
"There was nothing."
His descendants were confused.
"Ancestor, do you mean the palace did not exist in the past?"
The emperor shook his head.
"No."
He stared toward the Boundless Void Mountains.
"I mean there was no past to see."
The palace eventually became known as the Immortal Tomb.
The name was not chosen because anyone had discovered a corpse within it.
Rather, it was because of an inscription that appeared above its entrance during its first recorded opening.
HERE LIES WHAT ETERNITY COULD NOT KEEP.
No one understood those words.
Some believed the tomb contained the remains of an existence who had surpassed the Immortal Emperor Realm.
Others speculated that it was the burial ground of an entire ancient civilization.
A few even suggested that the palace belonged to a being who had existed before the Heavenly Dao.
Such claims were usually dismissed as absurd.
After all, how could anything exist before the heavens themselves?
Yet the palace continued to defy every explanation.
Once every few million years, its gates would open.
Cultivators who entered its outer halls discovered ancient scriptures, forgotten divine abilities, and cultivation techniques of extraordinary power.
Some inheritances were so profound that they could transform the destiny of an entire race.
However, there was one rule that remained unchanged throughout history.
No one had ever reached the deepest chamber.
Not an Immortal Emperor.
Not a supreme ancestor.
Not even those who claimed to stand at the pinnacle of the Upper Realm.
The deeper one ventured, the stranger the palace became.
Corridors shifted without warning.
Doors appeared where walls had previously stood.
And occasionally, visitors heard something from beyond the innermost halls.
A faint sound.
Steady.
Rhythmic.
Almost like breathing.
The Tenth Opening
On the day the Immortal Tomb opened for the tenth time in recorded history, the Boundless Void Mountains were surrounded by countless cultivators.
Immortal ships floated above the clouds.
Ancient war chariots hovered beneath the stars.
Enormous divine beasts rested upon distant mountain peaks, their presence alone causing the surrounding spiritual energy to tremble.
Every major power in the Upper Realm had sent representatives.
Among them stood three young cultivators whose reputations had already spread across the nine territories.
The first was Long Tianque, third prince of the Ancient Dragon Court.
His golden robes carried the insignia of the Nine-Clawed Heavenly Dragon, and a faint dragon-shaped manifestation occasionally appeared behind him.
He had come seeking the legendary Primordial Dragon Transformation Scripture.
The second was Feng Qingluan, sacred daughter of the Phoenix Race.
Dressed in crimson robes, she possessed a beauty that attracted countless admiring gazes.
Yet beneath her graceful appearance lay a formidable cultivation talent.
Her objective was the Nine Rebirth Flame Scripture, an ancient technique believed to have disappeared before the founding of the Phoenix Race.
The third was Ji Wuhen.
Compared to the other two, his appearance was unremarkable.
He wore simple white robes and carried an ordinary-looking sword.
But no one dared underestimate him.
Ji Wuhen was the youngest sword cultivator in the history of the Nine Heavens Sword Palace to comprehend the Seventh Sword Intent.
Standing beside him was an elderly man with silver hair.
His master.
One of the oldest surviving swordsmen of the Human Court.
Long Tianque glanced toward the palace gates.
"So this is the Immortal Tomb."
His eyes burned with anticipation.
"I wonder what kind of existence could have constructed such a place."
Feng Qingluan smiled faintly.
"Perhaps you should first consider whether you can obtain what you came for."
Long Tianque laughed.
"Are you doubting my abilities?"
"I'm questioning your confidence."
Before he could respond, a low rumbling echoed across the mountains.
The enormous black gates began to open.
There was no explosion of spiritual energy.
No dazzling light.
No heavenly announcement.
The gates simply moved.
Yet every cultivator present fell silent.
A moment later, the Immortal Tomb welcomed its visitors.
The Hall of Forgotten Scriptures
The interior of the tomb was far larger than its exterior suggested.
Beyond the entrance stretched an enormous hall containing thousands of floating stone tablets.
Each tablet was engraved with ancient characters.
Some emitted golden light.
Others were surrounded by black flames, silver lightning, or flowing streams of spiritual energy.
At the center of the hall stood a monument bearing five words.
THE HALL OF FORGOTTEN SCRIPTURES.
Long Tianque approached a tablet surrounded by golden dragon patterns.
His expression changed.
"This..."
The inscription before him contained the opening principles of an ancient dragon cultivation method.
Although incomplete, its profundity far surpassed the techniques he had studied since childhood.
Nearby, Feng Qingluan discovered a tablet containing fragments of a phoenix rebirth art.
Ji Wuhen, meanwhile, remained silent.
He walked between the tablets without attempting to claim any inheritance.
His master eventually asked, "Wuhen, have you found nothing suitable?"
Ji Wuhen shook his head.
"These techniques are extraordinary."
"Then why do you seem disappointed?"
"Because something is strange."
The old swordsman raised an eyebrow.
Ji Wuhen pointed toward the nearest tablet.
"Master, look at the inscription beneath the technique."
There was a small symbol engraved near its base.
A circle.
Divided by a single vertical line.
The old man examined it.
"A decorative mark?"
"Perhaps."
Ji Wuhen moved toward another tablet.
The same symbol appeared there.
Then another.
And another.
Hundreds of scriptures, originating from different eras and cultivation systems, carried the identical mark.
"Whoever collected these techniques," Ji Wuhen murmured, "wanted us to notice something."
His master frowned.
"Or whoever created this place."
Ji Wuhen looked toward the distant end of the hall.
Beyond the thousands of floating tablets stood a wall of darkness.
For reasons he could not explain, he felt that something was waiting behind it.
The First Heavenly Phenomenon
On the third day of the expedition, the impossible occurred.
Ji Wuhen was examining an ancient sword scripture when the stone tablet suddenly trembled.
At first, he assumed he had triggered a hidden restriction.
Then the neighboring tablet moved.
And another.
And another.
Within moments, every stone tablet in the Hall of Forgotten Scriptures began to shake.
Long Tianque stepped backward.
"What is happening?"
No one answered.
A deep humming sound spread through the hall.
The floating tablets slowly rotated.
Thousands of ancient scriptures turned away from the cultivators studying them.
Every single one faced the same direction.
The deepest region of the tomb.
Then they lowered themselves.
One by one, the stone tablets tilted forward.
They were bowing.
An elderly formation master stared in disbelief.
"Impossible..."
His voice trembled.
"Those tablets contain the wills of ancient supreme beings. Some are older than our greatest dynasties!"
Yet even the oldest scriptures continued to bow.
The phenomenon did not remain confined to the tomb.
Across the Upper Realm, ancient libraries began to tremble.
In the Human Court, sealed manuals opened by themselves.
Within the Ancient Dragon Court, scriptures guarded by Dragon Emperors floated into the air.
At the Phoenix Race's sacred grounds, a divine flame scripture that had remained closed for nine million years suddenly unfolded.
Countless pages turned toward the Boundless Void Mountains.
Their inscriptions shone with the same golden light.
An ancient scholar standing inside the Human Court's Imperial Library fell to his knees.
"Ten Thousand Scriptures Bow..."
His lips trembled.
"Such a phenomenon should be impossible!"
Back within the tomb, golden characters began appearing above the Hall of Forgotten Scriptures.
They formed a single sentence.
THE LONG SLUMBER APPROACHES ITS END.
The characters remained suspended for nine breaths.
Then they vanished.
The tablets returned to their original positions.
Everything became silent.
Far beneath the hall, beyond countless sealed passages, a translucent panel flickered above a simple stone bed.
[System Status]
[Charge Mode: 72%]
[Host consciousness remains dormant.]
[Energy replenishment continuing.]
No one witnessed the panel.
And no one knew what had caused the scriptures to bow.
The Eye of Heaven
On the fifth day, the second phenomenon appeared.
It began with the disappearance of the clouds.
Above the Boundless Void Mountains, the sky slowly turned golden.
A terrifying pressure descended upon the region.
Cultivators who had been flying through the air found themselves unable to move.
Immortal ships stopped.
Divine beasts lowered their heads.
Even the surrounding spiritual energy became strangely obedient.
Then the golden sky split open.
An enormous eye appeared.
It was so vast that its edges seemed to extend beyond the horizon.
Within its pupil flowed countless heavenly laws.
Time.
Space.
Life.
Death.
Creation.
Destruction.
All seemed reflected within that single gaze.
"The Eye of Heaven!"
An Immortal Emperor standing outside the tomb immediately recognized it.
His expression changed.
The Eye of Heaven was not an ordinary heavenly manifestation.
It was believed to represent the direct attention of the Heavenly Dao.
Throughout the Upper Realm's recorded history, it had appeared only during events capable of altering the fundamental laws of existence.
Yet something about this appearance was different.
The golden eye did not examine the surrounding cultivators.
It ignored the Immortal Emperors.
It ignored the ancient races.
Its enormous pupil slowly turned toward the Immortal Tomb.
And then—
It lowered.
The movement was almost imperceptible.
But every supreme expert present witnessed it.
An Immortal Emperor whispered, "Is the Heavenly Dao..."
He could not finish.
Because the thought itself seemed too absurd to speak.
The Eye of Heaven had lowered its gaze toward the palace.
Not like a ruler inspecting a subject.
But like an observer acknowledging something it could not command.
Deep beneath the tomb, the translucent panel changed.
[Charge Mode: 81%]
[Heavenly observation detected.]
[Host consciousness remains dormant.]
The golden eye remained for an entire hour.
Then it slowly closed.
When the Ten Thousand Daos Bowed
On the seventh day, the third phenomenon shook the Upper Realm.
It began in the territories of the Phoenix Race.
The eternal flames burning within their ancestral mountains suddenly rose into the sky.
But instead of spreading destruction, they gathered into the shape of an enormous phoenix.
The creature spread its wings.
Then lowered its head toward the Boundless Void Mountains.
At the same moment, within the Ancient Dragon Court, the rivers of spiritual water rose from the earth.
They formed a vast celestial dragon.
It too bowed.
Across the Upper Realm, similar manifestations appeared.
Mountains transformed into towering giants.
Ancient forests awakened into enormous green figures.
Rivers rose into the heavens.
Stars gathered into luminous formations.
Even the invisible laws governing time and space became briefly perceptible.
Countless streams of silver light crossed the sky.
Golden chains of heavenly principles stretched between distant realms.
Each manifestation represented a different Dao.
The Dao of Fire.
The Dao of Water.
The Dao of Life.
The Dao of Death.
The Dao of Time.
The Dao of Space.
And thousands upon thousands more.
They appeared in every territory.
Then, as though responding to a silent command, they turned toward the same location.
The Immortal Tomb.
And bowed.
In the Nine Heavens Sword Palace, an ancient sword ancestor emerged from seclusion.
He had spent millions of years pursuing the ultimate Sword Dao.
Yet the moment he witnessed the manifestation, his expression became pale.
"The Ten Thousand Daos..."
His voice was barely audible.
"They are paying homage."
Inside the tomb, Feng Qingluan stared at the glowing ceiling.
"Who could possibly command the Daos themselves?"
Long Tianque clenched his fists.
For the first time in his life, he felt insignificant.
Ji Wuhen said nothing.
He merely looked toward the darkness at the end of the hall.
His gaze slowly shifted toward the recurring symbol engraved beneath the scriptures.
A circle.
A vertical line.
For some reason, he felt that the answer was hidden there.
Far below them, the system continued its silent operation.
[Charge Mode: 89%]
[External Dao resonance detected.]
[Host consciousness remains dormant.]
The Door That Should Not Exist
On the ninth day, Ji Wuhen finally discovered the meaning of the symbol.
It was not a decorative mark.
Nor was it a cultivation rune.
It was a directional indicator.
Every symbol pointed toward the same location.
A seemingly ordinary wall at the deepest end of the Hall of Forgotten Scriptures.
Ji Wuhen approached it with his master.
After examining the wall for several hours, he placed his palm against its surface.
A faint ripple spread outward.
The wall disappeared.
Behind it stood a narrow corridor.
There were no treasures.
No scriptures.
No spiritual energy.
Only a passage extending into darkness.
The old swordsman's expression became solemn.
"Wuhen, we should leave."
Ji Wuhen hesitated.
"Master, we have come this far."
"That is precisely why I am warning you."
The old man stared into the corridor.
"I cannot sense what lies ahead."
Ji Wuhen frowned.
"Isn't that normal inside the Immortal Tomb?"
"No."
The old man shook his head.
"Even the strongest formations possess traces of their existence."
He paused.
"But this passage..."
His voice grew quieter.
"It feels as though the world refuses to acknowledge it."
Nevertheless, Ji Wuhen continued.
After walking for an unknown distance, they reached a small wooden door.
It was dark and unremarkable.
There were no protective formations surrounding it.
No ancient divine beasts guarding its entrance.
Only a simple inscription carved into the wood.
THE OWNER IS ASLEEP.
Ji Wuhen stared at the words.
"The owner?"
His master said nothing.
Ji Wuhen slowly drew his sword.
He had no intention of destroying the door.
He merely wanted to determine whether it concealed a restriction.
A thin strand of sword intent emerged from his blade.
It was an attack capable of splitting mountains.
Yet the moment it touched the wooden door, it vanished.
There was no collision.
No resistance.
No sound.
The sword intent simply ceased to exist.
Ji Wuhen froze.
His master immediately pulled him backward.
"Put away your sword!"
Ji Wuhen obeyed.
For several moments, neither spoke.
Then Ji Wuhen sheathed his blade and bowed deeply toward the door.
"This junior acted without permission."
His voice echoed through the empty corridor.
"I apologize for the disturbance."
Nothing happened.
The door remained closed.
Ji Wuhen waited.
Then he turned around.
"Master, let us leave."
The old man looked at him.
"You're giving up?"
Ji Wuhen glanced back one final time.
"No."
His expression was unusually serious.
"I think we were never meant to come here."
Neither noticed the faint movement of light beneath the wooden door.
On the other side, an ancient system continued counting.
The Vanishing Tomb
On the tenth day, the Immortal Tomb closed.
There was no warning.
One moment, thousands of cultivators were exploring its halls.
The next, they found themselves standing outside its gates.
Every visitor had been expelled.
Long Tianque immediately attempted to approach the entrance again.
But the gates would not open.
Feng Qingluan examined the palace from a distance.
"Something is wrong."
Ji Wuhen nodded.
The entire structure had become strangely indistinct.
As though it were gradually losing its connection to the world.
Above the mountains, several Immortal Emperors noticed the change.
"Seal the surrounding space!"
A supreme expert raised his hand.
Countless golden formations appeared around the palace.
Another Immortal Emperor froze the surrounding spatial laws.
A third attempted to anchor the palace to the mountain through an ancient binding technique.
For a moment, the entire Boundless Void Mountains were covered in divine light.
Then—
The Immortal Tomb vanished.
No spatial fluctuations appeared.
No laws were disturbed.
No traces remained.
It did not teleport.
It did not enter a hidden dimension.
It simply disappeared.
The supreme experts stood motionless.
An Immortal Emperor slowly lowered his hand.
"Where did it go?"
No one answered.
The mountains were empty.
The palace was gone.
And for the first time since its appearance, the Upper Realm had lost the greatest mystery in its history.
The Silence of All Realms
Time passed.
Dynasties rose and fell.
Ancient sects disappeared.
New powers emerged.
The Immortal Tomb gradually became a legend.
Then a myth.
Then little more than a story recorded in ancient manuscripts.
But in a distant Lower Realm, where spiritual energy was thin and even ordinary Nascent Soul cultivators were considered great experts, something appeared overnight.
A black palace.
Surrounded by nine towering pillars.
It stood upon a nameless mountain, overlooking a small and unremarkable region.
The local cultivators were astonished.
They believed an ancient inheritance ground had descended from the heavens.
Nearby sects immediately dispatched their elders.
Some began preparing expeditions.
Others argued over who possessed the right to explore the mysterious structure.
None knew its name.
None knew its history.
And none understood that the greatest powers of the Upper Realm had once failed to comprehend it.
Deep beneath the palace, a translucent panel flickered.
[Charge Mode: 99.9999%]
[Energy replenishment approaching completion.]
[Host consciousness restoration pending.]
Then the fourth phenomenon began.
The wind stopped.
The rivers ceased flowing.
Clouds froze in the sky.
A bird suspended in flight remained motionless, its wings spread wide.
Across the Lower Realm, cultivators suddenly discovered that they could no longer circulate spiritual energy.
The laws governing cultivation had become silent.
Far beyond that insignificant world, the same phenomenon spread.
In distant realms, ancient formations stopped operating.
Celestial rivers ceased moving.
Even the stars appeared frozen.
For a brief moment, the countless realms entered a silence unlike anything recorded in history.
Then golden threads appeared.
They emerged from the fabric of space itself, stretching across worlds and dimensions.
Each thread seemed to represent a law of existence.
They converged toward a single location.
The Immortal Tomb.
In the Upper Realm, ancient ancestors who had remained in seclusion for millions of years suddenly opened their eyes.
One of them rose from his throne.
"This feeling..."
His expression changed.
"The Immortal Tomb?"
Another ancient existence gazed toward the distant heavens.
"Impossible. It disappeared countless years ago."
Yet the golden threads continued gathering.
The silence deepened.
And within the palace, something finally changed.
[Energy replenishment complete.]
[Host consciousness restoration initiated.]
[Warning: Cultivation suppression temporarily inactive.]
[Warning: Unconscious energy release detected.]
The Shadow Upon the Supreme Throne
For eight billion years, the being within the deepest chamber had remained asleep.
His body had not moved.
His breathing had not changed.
Not once had he opened his eyes.
But now, his consciousness was returning.
And before he could regain control over his own power, something escaped.
It was not an intentional attack.
Not a divine ability.
Not even a conscious release of spiritual energy.
It was merely a fraction of the power that had remained dormant within him.
Yet that fraction was enough.
Across the countless realms, the golden threads shattered into innumerable particles of light.
The frozen stars trembled.
The Heavenly Dao's laws bent.
And above the heavens, an enormous golden ring appeared.
Then another.
And another.
Nine rings.
Ninety-nine.
Nine hundred ninety-nine.
Soon, there were too many to count.
They spread across the void, surrounding something that had not yet fully manifested.
A throne.
An enormous celestial throne emerged beyond the boundaries of the visible heavens.
Its surface was dark.
Its shape was ancient.
Countless golden symbols floated around it, appearing and disappearing before anyone could comprehend their meaning.
Then a figure appeared upon the throne.
A young man.
He wore flowing black robes.
His long black hair fell across his shoulders.
One hand rested casually against his cheek.
His posture was relaxed, almost indifferent.
Yet his face remained concealed behind an incomprehensible darkness.
No divine sense could penetrate it.
No heavenly technique could reveal his features.
No Immortal Emperor could determine his cultivation realm.
It was as though the very concept of measuring his strength had lost its meaning.
Across the Upper Realm, countless experts stared upward.
Long Tianque, now an ancient figure whose name had long since become part of history, stood within the Dragon Court's ancestral palace.
His expression was filled with disbelief.
Feng Qingluan watched from the Phoenix Race's sacred grounds.
Ji Wuhen, seated beneath an ancient sword tree, slowly opened his eyes.
He had long since forgotten many details of his youth.
But he had never forgotten the wooden door.
Or the words engraved upon it.
THE OWNER IS ASLEEP.
Now, looking at the silhouette upon the celestial throne, he felt an inexplicable chill.
"Could it be..."
His voice faded.
Above the countless realms, the figure remained seated.
The manifestations of the Ten Thousand Daos appeared once more.
Divine dragons.
Celestial phoenixes.
Ancient giants.
Rivers of time.
Endless stars.
All lowered themselves before the throne.
Then the Eye of Heaven opened.
Its enormous golden pupil stared directly at the mysterious figure.
For a moment, nothing happened.
The entire universe seemed to be waiting.
Then the figure on the throne slowly raised his head.
Beneath the darkness concealing his face, two silver eyes briefly appeared.
The Eye of Heaven trembled.
And closed.
Across the countless realms, an unimaginable silence descended.
The fifth heavenly phenomenon had reached its peak.
The Shadow Upon the Supreme Throne.
For nine breaths, the entire cosmos witnessed an existence it could neither identify nor comprehend.
Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, everything vanished.
The throne disappeared.
The golden rings dissolved.
The manifestations of the Ten Thousand Daos faded.
The stars resumed their movement.
The rivers flowed once more.
The laws of cultivation returned.
It was over.
But the countless beings who had witnessed the phenomenon would never forget it.
In the Upper Realm, an ancient Immortal Emperor slowly whispered:
"Who... was that?"
No one answered.
The Man Who Awakened
Deep within the Immortal Tomb, in a small chamber that looked nothing like the resting place of a supreme existence, a young man lay upon a simple stone bed.
There were no divine treasures surrounding him.
No ancient formations.
No heavenly flames.
Only a wooden table, a chair, and a small lamp that had not been lit for an unimaginably long time.
The young man possessed long black hair and a remarkably calm expression.
His features were handsome but unremarkable.
Nothing about him suggested extraordinary cultivation.
There was not even the slightest trace of spiritual energy surrounding his body.
A translucent panel floated above the bed.
[Unconscious power leakage detected.]
[Heavenly manifestation generated.]
[Host identity successfully concealed.]
[Cultivation suppression restored.]
[Consciousness restoration complete.]
For a moment, the chamber remained silent.
Then—
The young man's fingers moved.
His eyelids trembled.
And slowly, he opened his eyes.
They were silver.
Not because of any divine ability.
Not because he was circulating some mysterious technique.
They simply were.
He stared at the ceiling for several seconds.
Then he sat up.
"..."
His gaze moved across the unfamiliar chamber.
The stone bed.
The wooden table.
The unlit lamp.
The closed wooden door.
He frowned slightly.
"This isn't where I remember falling asleep."
A familiar mechanical voice sounded within his mind.
[Welcome back, Host.]
The young man remained silent.
A moment later, another message appeared.
[Energy replenishment successfully completed.]
[All systems functioning normally.]
[Elapsed time: 8,431,002,771 years.]
The young man blinked.
Once.
Then again.
"...Eight billion years?"
He stared at the panel.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Finally, he leaned backward and sighed.
"That was a rather long nap."
His name was San.
Or rather, that had been his name in a world he could barely remember.
After transmigrating into the cultivation world, he had adopted another name.
Ye Wuchen.
A name that had once belonged to an ordinary young cultivator.
A name that had long since disappeared from history.
He had no idea that the heavens had just bowed before him.
He did not know that countless Immortal Emperors were searching for the mysterious figure who had appeared upon the Supreme Throne.
Nor did he know that the palace surrounding him had become one of the greatest mysteries in the history of cultivation.
At that moment, he was concerned with something far simpler.
Ye Wuchen rose from the stone bed.
He stretched his arms.
Then he looked toward the wooden door.
After a brief pause, he asked the system:
"By the way..."
His expression remained indifferent.
"Who turned my sleeping place into a tomb?"
End of Chapter 1