Rewind time by one second.
After Chen Yi's true form squeezed into the river of time on the Purple Star Continent, he promptly marked a point on the riverbank with practiced ease.
After all, this wasn’t his first time, so he was far from being inexperienced or clueless.
Once he had marked the return point, he immediately let himself loose!
He stood still for a moment, observing his surroundings, then strode downstream without hesitation.
His clone, limited by insufficient power, could only travel upstream along the riverbank of time in the divine realm. The downstream temporal barrier was far too oppressive and dense—impossible to penetrate, and the endless sea of future possibilities remained obscured, with only faint echoes of terrifying waves reaching his ears.
But now, with his true form present, Chen Yi was determined to see for himself what this so-called "endless sea of future possibilities" was all about!
Perhaps because the Purple Star Continent was merely a minor tributary of the river of time, the pressure from the downstream temporal barrier was negligible to his true form—so faint that it was almost imperceptible unless he focused intently.
Still, unsure of what lay beyond the barrier, Chen Yi tilted his body and cautiously extended a foot through the temporal wall.
What was on the other side?
He felt a strange sensation—cool yet warm, as if dipping his foot into a spring that alternated between icy and scalding. There also seemed to be fish in this "spring," constantly bumping against his foot.
When he released his divine sense, it dissipated like clay oxen sinking into the sea, instantly dissolving into nothingness. He couldn’t perceive a thing.
"Must I observe with my own eyes?"
After a moment of hesitation, Chen Yi wiggled his foot a few more times, carefully confirming there was no danger before withdrawing it. Then, bracing his hands against the temporal barrier, he pushed his head through to the other side.
The posture might have looked awkward, but there was no other choice.
After all, Senior Cui Changsheng had once said that even a Celestial Emperor could lose themselves in the endless sea of future possibilities, daring only to observe from the safety of the riverbank.
Though Chen Yi was confident—even viewing everyone else as mere weaklings—he still held a deep respect for Celestial Emperors. They were no pushovers.
If even they didn’t dare venture recklessly into the future, there was no reason for him to take unnecessary risks.
Who knew? Maybe Celestial Emperors also adopted similarly undignified postures when peering into the future.
Once his head breached the barrier, Chen Yi finally saw what lay beyond.
An endless, multicolored ocean stretched before him—its liquid-crystal surface shimmering as nine primal hues collapsed and reformed, sometimes solidifying into crystalline structures, other times dispersing into flowing mist.
Amid the towering waves, scenes from different temporal dimensions collided violently.
He witnessed Chen Lingxiu’s triumphant return, only to see her divine statue shatter moments later.
He saw Fang Zheng holding a sacred pagoda, standing behind Fang Fan as he commanded with authority—yet in another moment, Fang Fan was drenched in blood, wrapping Fang Zheng’s body in a burial shroud to bring him home.
He saw Wuji extending a massive hand, instantly refining Xu Jinghong—only for Xu Jinghong to retaliate with a single sword strike that pierced the heavens and pinned Ling Xiao in place.
And then there were even more absurd visions—Ye Wuchen ascending to Celestial Emperor, Gu Yuan scheming for eons to overthrow him, Liu Ruyan’s peerless grace captivating even the unruly Zhang Kuang...
"Truly an endless sea of possibilities, where even an ant could impregnate a stone... but why..."
"Can’t I see myself?"
"Is it because one cannot observe their own future?"
"Or... do I have no future at all?"
Chen Yi fell into deep contemplation.
He recalled Senior Cui Changsheng’s words once more.
The senior had said that after evading the pursuit of the Celestial Tribulation for the first time, he had vanished from both past and future.
If the issue was simply being unable to observe one’s own future, there was no reason why others couldn’t see it either!
After all, the endless sea of future possibilities was defined by its absurdity—any outcome was possible. If even figures like Wuji and Ling Xiao could appear as Celestial Emperors, why was there no trace of him?
With a troubled mind, Chen Yi withdrew his head.
Though the endless sea of future possibilities held great value, it was only as a reference—and if he himself didn’t appear in it, that reference became dubious, perhaps even meaningless.
Turning around, Chen Yi strode upstream.
One year, two years, two and a half...
He arrived at June 7th of the 823rd year of the Tribulation Era—the exact moment of his 82nd attempt to challenge the Celestial Tribulation.
Back then, he had simply walked away, infuriating the Celestial Tribulation, which later descended upon the Purple Star Continent to hunt him down. The commotion had been so great that it was clearly recorded in the annals of history.
Yet when Chen Yi crouched down to examine this segment of history, all he found was a blank void.
He pushed the timeline back by another day.
Focusing on the Illusory Star Cave, he attempted to catch a glimpse of himself.
However...
The cave was completely empty. Not a soul in sight—not even the intricate arrays that once filled every corner of the cavern remained.
It was as if the place had reverted to an ordinary, unremarkable hollow, its vast, majestic interior erased from existence.
The Illusory Star Cave resembled a bottomless abyss—anything that entered it simply vanished from history.
But not entirely. Traces lingered in the reactions and discussions of contemporaries, in the far-reaching influence of the Tribulation Sovereign, and in the faintest remnants of evidence pointing to his deeds.
Yet if one tried to observe him directly...
Only one phrase came to mind:
"When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back."
"So that’s why Senior Cui was so resentful..."
Chen Yi’s expression turned odd as he recalled the senior’s moment of frustration.
Indeed, an unexpected betrayal was the hardest to swallow...
"Never mind. If I don’t exist in either past or future, then it’s only fair that I take my own tribulation, right?"
With that thought, Chen Yi began to stir with excitement.
Initially, he had worried that recklessly altering the past might disrupt the historical trajectory of the Purple Star Continent, creating temporal branches that could destabilize the world.
But now...
It seemed such concerns were unnecessary!
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
lanned to earn money steadily and take life at a slower pace. But he never expected... his father's remarriage, and the stepmother bringing along a dependent, would completely disrupt his life's plans...
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
