Although the Heavenly Sound Pavilion wasn't considered particularly renowned among the many sects, mainly because musical cultivation was a rather obscure path, its status was roughly on par with that of the Sword Furnace Pavilion.
Still, it was undeniably a time-honored, orthodox sect with thousands of years of history behind it.
The only slightly embarrassing fact was that the acknowledged "Music Saint" had not actually originated from the Heavenly Sound Pavilion. At present, the pavilion was presided over by only three Profound Realm experts.
This ran entirely counter to the common perception of Xi Mengquan, though his life story remained an enigma, he had often been seen appearing at the Heavenly Sound Pavilion, and was on good terms with its Pavilion Master.
Thus, most assumed he had once joined the sect but, being naturally unruly, later left on his own accord.
Now, however, Chen Kuang knew the truth: the "Music Saint" had never passed the Heavenly Sound Pavilion's entrance examination. He'd even been dismissed with harsh criticism:
"Unorthodox and disrespectful to musical principles. How dare he bring such chaotic nonsense to the Heavenly Sound Pavilion?"
How did Chen Kuang know this so well?
Because it had happened right in front of his eyes, and frankly, he had personally caused it.
Chen Kuang stared thoughtfully at the departing figure of the Heavenly Sound Pavilion elder who had just stormed off.
It wasn't even the season for recruiting disciples, but Chen Kuang had relied on his passive ability Reasoned and Convincing to persuade an elder he caught by chance.
He made him believe that Xi Mengquan was a peerless prodigy, and that Chen himself had been entrusted by a hidden master of the Heavenly Sound Pavilion to deliver him there.
At first, the elder had been skeptical but agreed, albeit reluctantly, to conduct an assessment of Xi Mengquan. However, Xi hadn't even finished playing his piece before the elder completely lost it.
Xi Mengquan kept his hand on the zither strings, looking composed and unsurprised, with a faint expression of helplessness.
He looked to Chen Kuang and said, "See? I told you beforehand."
These major sects were arrogant and jealously guarded their own ways...
On this point, Chen Kuang could only agree wholeheartedly.
Still, he had a generally favorable impression of the Heavenly Sound Pavilion. During his battle with the Martial Saint, an elder in a purple robe had stepped in to help, leaving a good impression.
More importantly, Xi Mengquan's talent was simply too great. If Chen Kuang put himself in the sect's shoes, he knew he would never let such a genius slip through his fingers.
Who would've thought the Heavenly Sound Pavilion of this era could be so stubborn?
Having inherited Xi Mengquan's true teachings, Chen Kuang was well aware that Xi's musical theory was radically different from conventional traditions, it truly could be called heretical.
Although the Heavenly Sound Pavilion was old and venerable, that meant it had its own strict lineage and held fast to orthodoxy.
Two thousand years... can change far too many things.
In stark contrast to this elder's attitude, the future Heavenly Sound Pavilion would search far and wide for fragments of the Music Saint's compositions, desperate to reconstruct them. That alone showed how much they revered him.
Chen Kuang had thought that Xi Mengquan, even as he was now, would be enough to change the Pavilion's mind.
"Looks like joining the Heavenly Sound Pavilion isn't happening anytime soon..."
Chen Kuang shook his head, then mused, "Maybe... I could try conning someone from the Sword Furnace Pavilion instead?"
Xi Mengquan looked at him and asked, "You're trying to gain access to the Ancient Battlefield of Meditation, aren't you?"
He could tell that?!
Chen Kuang raised an eyebrow. Xi Mengquan went on, "If your only goal was to have me join the Heavenly Sound Pavilion, you'd be disappointed right now. But instead, you're clearly already considering which sect to send me to next..."
"If it's something that can be achieved simply by joining a major sect, then aside from the Ancient Battlefield of Meditation, what else could it be?"
Chen Kuang nodded. "I do need to enter the Ancient Battlefield of Meditation, but I can't do it under my own name."
Xi Mengquan pondered a moment, then said, "Actually, there's a simpler way."
"The Great Qi Dynasty also holds access rights. If I can become a court musician of Great Qi, I'll have a chance to petition the emperor for entry."
Oh...
Two thousand three hundred years ago, the Zhou Kingdom was still just a small nation. The true hegemon of the Central Domain at that time was the Great Qi Dynasty, which would not fall until a thousand years later.
That thought made Chen Kuang's expression even more peculiar.
So a court musician, huh? Wasn't that... almost exactly how he himself had once gotten in?
Chen Kuang glanced at the youth before him and asked, "Joining a sect makes you a disciple. Entering the royal palace makes you a servant. Are you really willing to choose the latter?"
Xi Mengquan replied, "I do not seek to learn from others. Whether disciple or servant, to me there's no difference, it's still being beneath someone."
Well damn, young as he was, his ambition ran deep.
From his words alone, Chen Kuang could tell just how wildly arrogant Xi Mengquan truly was.
So he didn't fail to enter the sects because of a lack of talent or background, it was simply that he didn't deem any of them worthy of him!
But then again... that did match Xi Mengquan's temperament perfectly.
Xi Mengquan added, "Besides... even within the sects, if one wishes to climb the ranks, it's still nothing more than being used like a servant."
He turned to Chen Kuang and, for the first time, bowed with genuine sincerity. "Though I am unwilling, you have granted me the grace of transmitting the Way. I shall repay that debt with all my strength."
"There are still three hundred years until the next opening of the Ancient Battlefield of Meditation. Before then, I will acquire the qualification."
A complicated feeling stirred in Chen Kuang's heart.
After all... though the future Xi Mengquan would be a crafty, riddling old scoundrel, the boy before him was presenting a completely different side of himself.
It made him feel as though maybe that earlier beating had been a mistake...
But... they were still the same person, how could it be a mistake?
Chen Kuang suspected the little bastard was just pretending. Maybe he'd already sensed something and was probing his intentions.
He smacked Xi Mengquan lightly on the back of the head, then slung an arm around the youth's shoulders like a thug shaking someone down. "Since when did you have a say in this? I didn't give you a choice, did I?"
The picture of a domineering bully in action.
Xi Mengquan: "..."
He drew a long breath and said, "So next... we're heading for the royal palace of Great Qi?"
Chen Kuang, seeing his disgruntled expression, laughed and said coolly, "Nope. That kind of place, useless for anything except polishing your ego."
Xi Mengquan was stunned. "Then where are we going?"
Chen Kuang gave him a glance. "Back to your home."
In his memory, just before Xi Mengquan had tried to send him to the royal palace of the Liang Kingdom, he had mentioned having a chance to enter the court of Great Qi as a musician... but it hadn't panned out.
That royal court was definitely not an option. Even with his exceptional talent, without any background, Xi Mengquan would be crushed the moment he stepped into palace life.
And the sects weren't viable either.
Since there were still three hundred years to go... why not teach him himself?
While he was at it, he could directly learn the "Five Tones" method from Xi Mengquan.
Given Xi Mengquan's terrifying talent, within fifty years he'd probably become someone even the major sects would have to respect. It wouldn't be too late to try again then.
As for Chen Kuang himself, he was planning to attempt directly comprehending the Way of Time and Space.
When he unleashed that final sword strike, he had already grasped the Dao Rhythms of "Time and Space", in other words, he now possessed the qualifications to attain the Dao.
Ordinarily, only those at the Moon-Embracing Realm could use their divine soul to perceive the "Rhythms" within Heaven and Earth.
However, based on the strength of Chen Kuang's soul alone, he was already standing at the threshold of the Moon-Embracing Realm.
From the middle ranks onward, cultivation was no longer just about diligence. It became a matter of innate comprehension.
Without sufficient perception and insight, no amount of hard work would ever be enough.
In other words, if Chen Kuang could expand that Dao Rhythm into a true "Dao" of his own, he could even now pose his question to the Heavens, bypassing the Moon-Embracing Realm entirely and stepping straight into the Master Realm!
However... establishing one's "Dao" was too important a matter to treat lightly.
And more than anything, Chen Kuang vaguely sensed that something was very wrong with the nature of "Dao" in this world.
Because the Dao of Heaven validated only actions, not intentions, it led to a situation where those who attained the Dao were instead trapped within their own "paths," forced to forever act in line with the answer they had once given.
Even the slightest deviation could cause that "Dao" to collapse entirely.
Once, Chen Kuang had found this materialistic Heavenly Dao to be merely amusing.
But now, he no longer saw it that way.
If he had to define his own behavior with a fixed standard, and from that point onward could only act according to that one standard, then Chen Kuang would undoubtedly find it intolerable.
"Fortunately, I still have three hundred years to think it over..."
Chen Kuang brought Xi Mengquan back to his thatched cottage. He murmured softly to himself, sighing unconsciously, and cast a glance toward the corner of his vision, where the status panel remained motionless.
He turned to Xi Mengquan and said, "From today on, I'll teach you how to play the zither."
...
That night, Chen Kuang sat alone in the courtyard, tilting his head back to gaze at the starry sky above.
It was already past midnight, yet this time...
The status panel still hadn't refreshed.
In fact, this had already happened seven times.
From the very first day he began waiting for Xi Mengquan to comprehend the Dao, Chen Kuang had noticed that his status panel was no longer updating.
For the past seven days, not a single update. It was as if his connection had been completely cut off.
Now, Chen Kuang was certain, the panel truly had stopped refreshing.
As for the reason... he was fairly convinced it had something to do with the Dao of "Time."
When he had thrown himself into that river of blood, he had felt a strange sensation, an illusion of being submerged and surrounded, which had persisted even to this moment.
Thus, Chen Kuang believed that perhaps he hadn't truly traveled back a second time, but was still within a recorded historical timeline, just like Zhuangzi dreaming of being a butterfly.
What he now perceived as the passage of time could very well be nothing more than a shift in cognition.
After all, the Ancient Battlefield of Meditation itself was nothing more than a preserved record of past battlegrounds.
If it wasn't a truly real space, then of course, the passage of time within it wouldn't follow conventional laws.
Or... there was another possibility.
In his previous life, Chen Kuang had encountered a theory: that when a person traveled to the past, they didn't actually go back to their own past timeline.
What had already happened could not be altered.
Therefore, the very moment one traveled into the past, that act would give rise to a newly formed parallel world.
The time tracked by the status panel might still be tied to the original Cangyuan World.
In this newly generated parallel world, the panel no longer worked.
The fact that it still refreshed within the Great Void Illusion Realm was likely due to the Illusion Realm's special nature, and because, no matter how fantastical it became, it was still constructed atop the framework of Cangyuan.
Judging from the subsequent performance of the Wujian Between, if it evolved to its extreme, it might indeed have the potential to replace reality itself.
Whereas this Dao of "Time" possessed no such innate uniqueness.
In this light, Wujian Between seemed even more enigmatic.
Of course, all of this was merely Chen Kuang's own speculation.
A fully formed Great Dao, was something that even Saints rarely glimpsed...
If Chen Kuang truly wanted to understand it, he'd eventually have to go to Canliao.
Sigh... just when he finally had a chance to safely bide his time, his golden finger stops responding.
A sad story indeed.
Fortunately, the passives he currently possessed were still more than enough for him to survive.
"Hm... as long as the Saints of this time-space don't make a move."
Chen Kuang stroked his chin, then looked toward the character "Feather" imprinted in the center of his palm.
If not for this "Feather" sigil, he wouldn't have been able to trigger resonance with the Dao of Time, nor would he have entered this timeline from two thousand three hundred years ago.
So... was Xi Mengquan painstakingly trying to recreate history, or did he hope Chen Kuang would find something here? Or perhaps come to understand something?
"In any case, I should first try to grasp this sliver of Dao Rhythm..."
Chen Kuang raised his hand and casually pointed toward the starry sky, unleashing the Void-Slicing Sword.
Not that he had any deeper purpose, he simply didn't want to damage the flowers and grass by aiming at the ground.
He slashed horizontally.
A certain mysterious artistic conception suddenly emerged at his fingertip, only to vanish in the very next moment.
In the starry sky above, a distorted crack began to spread, but before it could fully manifest, it abruptly disappeared.
Chen Kuang narrowed his eyes thoughtfully and tried again.
Over and over...
Below, Xi Mengquan stepped out of the hut, puzzled as he looked at Chen Kuang gesturing childishly at the sky like a child playing pretend.
He had no idea what Chen Kuang was doing, it was completely beyond his current understanding of what "cultivators" were capable of.
Until, at a certain moment, Chen Kuang's expression suddenly turned extremely solemn.
His hand that had been slicing across the sky began to slow, its force becoming unbearably heavy, as though some unseen, immeasurable weight was resisting him.
Thankfully, now that he was past the Sea-Cleaving Realm, Spiritual Energy was no longer a limiting factor.
As the Spiritual Energy within him gushed out madly, the ambient energy of the world surged toward him as well, lending its strength!
Xi Mengquan stood there, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, watching as all the Spiritual Energy in the surroundings was drawn in, so much so that the very air became suffocating.
And at the center of that Spiritual Energy storm, Chen Kuang had been forced to rise to his feet.
Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, his fingers trembled uncontrollably, veins bulged on his temple and arms, and blood even began to seep from his skin. His very teeth were chattering.
Something wasn't right... it seemed he had accidentally stumbled onto something extraordinary.
But... he had been pointing at nothing but the empty sky...
"No... there is something."
Chen Kuang's eyes widened as he locked his gaze on that expanse of stars.
"This sky, it exists!"
So this time, had his Void-Slicing Sword... sliced open the sky itself?!
Chen Kuang couldn't stay calm anymore.
He watched as the rift in the sky continued to grow. All the surrounding Spiritual Energy had gathered into him, if he didn't see this slash through to completion, it would be him who suffered severe backlash.
And right now, there were no enemies nearby, no passives were being triggered. He was relying purely on his own cultivation...
Fine then. If it must be slashed, then so be it!
Holding his breath, steeling his mind, gritting his teeth, Chen Kuang pushed his finger through to the end with every ounce of strength he had!
In that instant, a barely perceptible rift tore across the sky.
At first glance, it appeared small and narrow, but in truth, it spanned thousands of li. And through that slit, what lay beyond was... a transparent void?
That transparent void shimmered faintly with a chaotic hue, and within it lingered a strange curvature.
Chen Kuang's pupils constricted, struck as though by lightning.
Below, Xi Mengquan wore a look of total confusion.
As of now, he had no idea that this scene would be forever engraved in his mind for the next two thousand years.
...
Great Qi Dynasty, Directorate of Celestial Observation.
This day... would go down as the most terrifying ever recorded by the Directorate.
Although in future generations, not a single record of this day would be passed down, not even this portion of history would remain.
But at this moment, chaos and shock erupted from the Directorate all the way to the imperial palace.
Two star-readers observing the celestial phenomena died on the spot, while a third went mad. The upheaval was only quelled after the Overseer himself intervened to suppress the anomaly.
In the imperial study.
The Overseer of the Directorate of Celestial Observation had been granted an emergency audience with the Emperor of Great Qi, and truthfully reported the astronomical events of the day.
The Emperor of Great Qi fell silent for a long time before saying, "Are you certain?"
The Overseer nodded gravely and emphatically.
The Emperor let out a long sigh. His already-aged face sagged with defeat. "How could this be... How could this be? No wonder the Human Emperor chose to launch the War to Hunt the Heavens... So that's why! We were all wrong!"