Wang Chen had no idea what thoughts stirred within Mo Huyan's mind.
Even if he had known, he would not have cared.
At this moment, he stood at the most critical threshold of his entire comprehension of reincarnation.
Time flowed onward like an endless river.
The scenery around him shifted imperceptibly. Mountains eroded, plains formed, and invisible currents of resentment continued to sweep across the first floor of the Tower of Infinite Enlightenment. The chilling air never warmed, and the distant howls of resentment ghosts never ceased. Yet none of it reached Wang Chen's awareness.
He remained unmoving.
In the blink of an eye, another fifty thousand years passed.
By then, Wang Chen had been in meditation for a total of one hundred thousand years.
A span long enough for entire civilizations to rise from dust, flourish in glory, and vanish without leaving a trace.
The world remained unchanged—except for one thing.
