Inside the ancient Daoist temple, wisps of fragrance permeated the air. On the plaza of the grand hall, the lid of the pill furnace had been removed, and the great pill within was nowhere to be seen.
Within the hall, a figure clad in a Gold-Patterned Profound Robe sat serenely. With every breath, he seemed to meld with the grand hall, emanating the same Dao Rhythm.
Faintly, one could see the shadows of three Daoists manifested around this figure. A sense of perfection that spanned from primordial inception to final extinction radiated from the presence of the three Daoists.
Qin Zheng was now observing his inner self, continuously adjusting his grasp over the current strength.
The restless heart, earthly calamities, tribulations of Dao—all within and without—all were resolved within the illusory realm left behind by the Taiching Saint without causing him even the slightest hindrance.
The process of achieving the mythical Dao was far easier than he had imagined.
