The Struggle for Orthodoxy Has Always Been This Way, But Unfortunately, I Don't Play by the Rules

Chen Yi initially couldn’t understand why Wuji, the Heavenly Emperor of the Endless Hall, was so obsessed with cleanliness—to the point of having severe mysophobia. Whenever matters related to the lower realms were involved, he would insist on wearing thick protective layers, as if the lower realms harbored some sinister contamination that would bring misfortune upon contact...

One could say that apart from Ling Xiao, who had also once been a Heavenly Emperor, no one could answer this question for him.

But would Ling Xiao enlighten him?

The answer was no.

Ling Xiao currently despised him to the core, sealing himself off so thoroughly that even irrelevant accounts like ‘Ye Ancai’s Four Group’ were banned, leaving no room for interaction—utterly refusing to be associated with him in any way.

That left Chen Yi with no choice but to figure things out on his own.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long for Wuji to inadvertently reveal the reason behind his mysophobia.

It all traced back to the space of causal mist within the Mirror of Primordial Beginnings, where Wuji, possessing the body of the Yin-Yang Daoist—a Great Luo ancestor of the Ancient Green Lotus Clan—was cornered by Chen Yi and the four other ancient clan ancestors.

At first, it seemed like a righteous gang-up: the four ancient clan ancestors would activate their high-tier mechanisms, while Chen Yi’s halberd would coordinate the assault, ensuring Wuji was overwhelmed with waves of pressure.

But against all expectations, Wuji countered by borrowing Ling Xiao’s power, defying the natural order and reversing the tides of battle!

Had it not been for the Little Golden Dragon’s interference, Chen Yi’s five-star avatar, which had entered the fray, would have been in grave danger.

After all, fighting a Great Luo possessed by a Heavenly Emperor was already a stretch. Adding another Heavenly Emperor’s manifested projection into the mix? The one overwhelmed wouldn’t be Wuji—it would be Chen Yi!

Of course, none of that was the main point. Using an avatar to challenge a Great Luo controlled by a Heavenly Emperor wasn’t something worth boasting about, and Chen Yi had never been one to flaunt past glories.

The real question was: Why did Wuji summon Ling Xiao’s projection, and why was that projection even more formidable than Wuji’s own?

Logically, Wuji was the reigning Heavenly Emperor, while Ling Xiao had been all but crippled. How could he still suppress Wuji?

Was it because Wuji was only operating through a wisp of his will, wrapped in layers of protective measures, thus weakening him enough to be overpowered by Ling Xiao’s projection?

But that didn’t seem likely.

Even if the “protective layers” made Wuji somewhat weaker, he was still the supreme Heavenly Emperor of the current era. Ling Xiao had been trapped by him in the depths of the River of Time, unable to escape. How could a mere summoned projection suppress Wuji?

Chen Yi pondered this endlessly until, after a pleasant encounter with Black Earth, he came into contact with the concept of Primordial Dao Marks once more and even attempted refining them himself. That was when it all clicked—he finally understood everything.

Wuji’s obsession with cleanliness wasn’t due to mysophobia. It was because the lower realms were filled with the “filth” left behind from Ling Xiao’s era!

If it were ordinary filth, washing one’s hands would suffice. But this wasn’t just any filth—it was the accumulated essence of Ling Xiao’s reign, the condensed treasures of nine great epochs!

Primordial Dao Marks were the crystallization of a Dao’s end and the product of its origin. Though the myriad realms held countless laws, the Great Dao itself had a limit of three thousand.

Three thousand Great Daos—each could branch into innumerable rules, but their origin and end remained singular. Only one Primordial Dao Mark could be refined per Dao, embodying its uniqueness.

If a Great Dao already had a pioneer who refined its Primordial Dao Mark, it was like a mountain standing at its end. Any later cultivator seeking to refine a mark from the same Dao would have to challenge the predecessor—a process known as “debating the Dao.”

In simpler terms: the elder sets the standard, and the newcomer must overthrow it.

Win the debate, and you topple the predecessor’s standard, replacing it with a thicker, mightier one to deter future challengers. Lose, and you face the predecessor’s rod—your path erased, your Dao rendered void.

In other words, the number of Dao Ancestors was finite. A Great Luo could enter the threshold of a Quasi-Dao Ancestor by refining a single Primordial Dao Mark. But to fully ascend to the Dao Ancestor realm, one needed to refine forty-nine marks.

In the most ideal scenario, where everyone coexisted harmoniously—each staking their claim without conflict—the maximum number of Dao Ancestors would be sixty-one.

But would harmony truly prevail?

Positions were limited. If you didn’t challenge others, they would surpass you. If you sought to surpass, others would counter-surpass. While a Dao Ancestor needed at least forty-nine marks to form a flawless cycle, what about a Heavenly Emperor?

To put it bluntly, while wandering the River of Time, Chen Yi had witnessed Wuji seize Ling Xiao and extract a hundred Primordial Dao Marks in an instant!

Yet even then, Ling Xiao didn’t fall from the Dao Ancestor realm—he merely lost his Heavenly Emperor status. He could still clash with Wuji at his peak!

What did this imply?

It meant Ling Xiao had refined far more than forty-nine marks. Though the exact number was unfathomable, it had to exceed three hundred.

With three thousand Great Daos, Ling Xiao monopolized a tenth of them. How many Dao Ancestors could still emerge? How many years had passed since antiquity? How many Dao Ancestors had staked their claims? Was there competition even among them?

The answer was obvious. The Divine Realm had been shattered, with countless Yuan Sovereigns—beings equivalent to Dao Ancestors—perishing. How many positions had that vacated?

Essentially, any later cultivator who could uproot the standards set by past Yuan Sovereigns and plant their own, gathering forty-nine marks, could attain the status of a Dao Ancestor.

Such was the nature of Dao supremacy struggles.

Refining Primordial Dao Marks wasn’t just about becoming a Dao Ancestor—it was about becoming the pinnacle of a Dao, forcing all who walked its path to look up in reverence. Even all beings cultivating that Dao would bear its imprint, becoming a unique nourishment for the Primordial Dao Mark.

The longer one controlled these marks, the more profound their accumulated influence.

Ling Xiao, who monopolized a tenth of the Great Daos, had cast his shadow across nine epochs. The Dao essence he had amassed was beyond imagination!

This was a form of monopoly. Ling Xiao’s reign had been too influential—he was the standard-setter. Countless beings across the myriad realms lived under the rules he established, and the legacy he left behind was staggeringly vast.

For instance, Ling Xiao held the most fundamental Great Dao of Water. Though water-aligned cultivators might not be numerous, the number of beings dependent on water for survival was incalculable.

Even if his “standard” in the Water Dao was overthrown, the Dao essence accumulated over nine epochs wouldn’t vanish. Unless Ling Xiao expended it, his foundation remained intact.

And what of Wuji?

His reign had been too brief. Though he might possess many Primordial Dao Marks, his standards were newly established. With the post-chaos celestial realm requiring stabilization, how could he spare the effort to purge Ling Xiao’s lingering influence?

This was why Ling Xiao dared to act recklessly while Wuji hesitated to extend his reach into the lower realms.

Wuji could defeat Ling Xiao in the celestial realm, but in the lower realms? That was far from certain. The fact that Ling Xiao’s manifested projection could overpower Wuji’s there was the most direct proof.

Alright, now that he understood this and knew what Wuji was wary of, Chen Yi was clear about what he needed to do!

His goal was to sever any connection between himself and Ling Xiao, proving that he had nothing to do with her—that he was merely an unorthodox cultivator who didn’t follow the conventional path, incapable of refining foundational Dao marks and posing no threat to Wuji’s reign.

He was just a shameless, parasitic snake, snatching up scraps of territory here and there—but fundamentally, those lands still belonged to Wuji. Chen Yi was nothing more than a minor nuisance, hardly worth worrying about...

So!

Chen Yi didn’t even bother pretending anymore. He went straight for Wuji, chasing him down with ferocious intensity!

And after fleeing for a while, Wuji confirmed that aside from being a bit vicious, Chen Yi wasn’t actually much of a threat... Heh!

"Logically speaking, I shouldn’t be able to breach this temporal trap, let alone enter the River of Time..."

"But too bad—I don’t play by the rules!"

"Sorry, Wuji. Ling Xiao is mine. You can’t take her!"

With a profound glint in his eyes, Chen Yi raised a finger and poked at the temporal trap Wuji had laid, stirring it into chaos. Then, without hesitation, he tore open a rift in spacetime and brute-forced his way into the River of Time.