In a weed-choked stone cave, a youth sat motionless in a dry pool, eyes closed, rigid as a thousand-year-old boulder.

Time slipped by unnoticed. After an indeterminate period, the youth’s fingers twitched slightly. He slowly opened his eyes, his gaze sweeping the surroundings with complex emotion.

This man was Shi Yan.

In the battle on Blood Demon Star, Fick, a powerhouse at the third heaven of the Prime God realm, had severely wounded both his physical body and his soul. His soul altar still bore hairline fractures that had not yet healed, though thankfully, thanks to the existence of Blood Essence Stones, his divine body had now fully recovered.

When his soul altar was first damaged, he had forcibly used his Undying Demonic Blood to tear through space. The location fixed in his mind was this very place—the spot where his soul had descended years ago.

He had fallen into the blood pool here, the liquid that once remade him now completely exhausted and dry.

He had remained in the pool, using the Blood Essence Stones to gradually restore himself, until his physical body was whole again today. However, the cracks within his soul altar were not something that could be mended in a short time.

He looked at the dried pool, at the crisscrossing cobwebs overhead, and at the dust covering the floor, remaining silent.

Centuries had passed in a flash. When his soul first descended, it had fallen into the body of Shi Yan, who was then exploring ancient ruins. He walked the world through this vessel, growing stronger step by step, eventually reaching the third heaven of the Void God realm and becoming a dazzling new star in the vast sea of stars.

Returning to his starting point after so many years, he couldn't help but sigh with deep emotion.

He rose, lowered his head to gaze at the blood pool, and with a movement of his spirit, waved his hand.

The dust layers covering the pool scattered instantly, revealing the clean bottom. A strangely intricate pattern was imprinted there. He had paid it no mind back then, but today he examined it closely.

The pattern bore a ninety percent resemblance to the markings on the Blood Shield, and it also featured the crimson cloud emblem at its center. Naturally, it was unique to the Bloodthirsty lineage. This imprint held a marvelous, almost magical power, penetrating deep into the earth for ten thousand miles, subtly connecting with the origin source of the Continent of Divine Grace.

It was an esoteric and unfathomable grand formation.

Even with his current insight, he could not fully decipher the mysterious subtleties of the formation. The array was clearly broken now, obviously unusable.

He understood clearly in his heart: this formation had drawn his soul here, consuming the origin energy of the Continent of Divine Grace. When the formation lost energy, it inevitably collapsed, yet his soul still arrived. The caster must have been the Dark Leader, Lao Luo, who likely leveraged the mysteries of the Blood Pattern Ring, along with the origin source, to achieve such an astonishing feat.

Staring at the strange array for a while, he shook his head and secretly tried to connect with the Blood Pattern Ring; the ring spirit gave no response.

Frowning, he attempted to circulate his soul altar and urge his profound principles, only to feel a sharp pain in his mind. A crisp cracking sound echoed from the altar, startling him badly. He hastily collected his focus, not daring to try again.

When Fick tried to kill him, he had channeled golden shards of light into the altar, attempting to strip his soul away from it. This direct attack was what caused the severe trauma to his soul altar, resulting in his inability to operate his profound principles now. If he forced the circulation, the altar sounded like it was shattering apart.

The inability to use profound principles meant he couldn't easily tear open space passages again and was temporarily trapped.

He knew of many miraculous items capable of repairing a soul altar, but he possessed none of them. He would have to travel to Blood Demon Star to find Fu Wei, Shang Chen, and the Blood Demons to obtain such treasures to nourish the altar and heal those cracks.

He was not worried about the battle situation in the Maya Star Domain.

Reinforcements led by Sha Gui and Wu Feng had arrived before he escaped. The ones who would be routed would undoubtedly be the God Race members, not the forces of the Maya Star Domain.

Now that his soul altar was severely damaged and profound principles were unusable, his mastery of exquisite divine techniques was greatly limited. He could only rely on his formidable physical body. He pondered secretly, trying to figure out a way to contact those on Blood Demon Star and acquire items needed to repair his soul altar.

He glanced back at the stone cave, let out a faint, wry smile, and stepped out with a strange look in his eyes.

Just like back then.

He still remembered stepping out of the cave for the first time, catching sight of Miss Mo Yan Yu of the Mo Family, which triggered a cascade of disputes. Recalling it now, it felt merely amusing.

"Eh!"

Breathing the fresh air, his expression shifted. A flicker of shock crossed his face, followed by a soft chuckle of realization.

The spiritual energy in the Gloomy Forest was incredibly dense, nearly comparable to that of Level Two or Level Three Life Stars. Compared to when he was here before, it was tens of times more potent. That was why he was surprised initially, before realizing that all this change stemmed from him.

He laughed wryly, wandering aimlessly within the Gloomy Forest, temporarily setting aside the irritation in his heart and immersing himself in the beauty of the landscape.

Surprisingly, the moment he completely relaxed, ceasing to fret over the injury to his soul altar, the faint stinging pain emanating from the cracked altar seemed to vanish.

His expression moved; it seemed he had grasped something, and he relaxed himself even further.

The Gloomy Forest was much as it had always been. Demonic beasts roamed here, and naturally, martial artists adventured in to hunt. Clad in black, walking alone through the woods, he concealed his aura, often attracting the covetous eyes of these hunters.

However, whenever any intending predator moved to strike, a mere slight furrow of his brow and the slightest disclosure of his presence would send them fleeing in terror, scattering like dogs who had lost their homes.

The gap in power was simply too vast. Even though his soul altar was damaged and he dared not easily use profound principles, just unleashing a sliver of power from his divine body was like the might of a god or demon to those mere Human Rank or Hundred Tribulations martial artists, leaving them only fear and retreat.

He wandered along, deliberately not thinking about the trauma to his soul altar, refraining from using his divine sense, simply meandering without aim or purpose.

Even though his wandering seemed aimless, his direction unconsciously followed the path he had taken years ago: the route where he was captured by the Mo Family, humiliated as a medicine slave, and eventually escaped by utilizing the battle between the Mo Family and the White Blade Jade Spiders—he retraced those very paths now…

Back then, he had just begun to comprehend the subtleties of the acupoints, absorbing vital energy through them to possess a trace of primal force, enduring humiliation to strengthen himself until he could break free and survive.

Over two centuries later, he had reached the peak of the Void God realm. Now, he only needed to grasp the true essence of the Life and Death profound principles to break through to the Prime God realm. Compared to before, it was like heaven and earth, truly feeling like a different lifetime.

Without using his soul altar or invoking profound principles, yet still capable of comprehending them, he walked on, lost in his own world, thinking deeply about the issues of life and death. His spirit gradually grew hazy, as if possessed.

He himself was unaware of this, merely walking on, his searching gaze filled with profound bewilderment.

One day, he arrived at an ancient, towering tree and stopped abruptly, lost in contemplation.

He remembered this tree…

He had cultivated nearby in the past. Here, he had his first woman, a mercenary named Diyalan, and he had also met a woman who stirred his heart for the first time—a woman named Mu Yudie.

Scenes from the past flowed through his mind. Shi Yan stood rooted, muttering faintly, as if unable to distinguish between illusion and reality, lingering ceaselessly between life and death.

The once dense tree had aged, decaying in the cycle of life. The branches were withered and dry, like an elderly man in his twilight years, slowly approaching the end of his cycle. From behind the old tree came the sound of trickling water, and faintly visible were a few bamboo huts nestled between small streams, with flowers planted before them.

A clear, melodious sound of a zither drifted from one of the bamboo huts. As the music sounded, Shi Yan was struck forcefully.

An unbelievable divine light appeared in his eyes. As if sleepwalking, he moved step by step toward the bamboo hut, his expression becoming utterly bizarre.

This zither music… it was exactly as it had been years ago, so familiar, like a voice from a dream. For a moment, he could not distinguish between reality and illusion. He merely stared at the bamboo hut, walking toward it inch by inch…

He reached the front of the hut, pushed open the bamboo door in a daze, and saw an ancient, white-haired old woman sitting with her back to him, facing a window, quietly playing the zither. She seemed unaware that he had entered.

The old woman’s neck was covered in wrinkles; she was frail with age, her white hair cascading to her waist. A not insignificant wave of power emanated from her body, yet her vital energy was depleted to the extreme—a sign that life was nearing its end.

He looked deeply at the old woman, his gaze becoming exceptionally strange. He listened silently to the music, not uttering a word.

When the old woman finished her piece, she sighed softly, her voice raspy, “The music has been heard. Please leave this place, and do not disturb an old woman’s peace.”

Shi Yan remained silent, his feet seemingly rooted to the ground, motionless.

Anger stirred in the old woman’s heart. She coughed and turned around. Her mind jolted violently; pointing at Shi Yan, she trembled uncontrollably, her face a landscape of crevices formed by wrinkles. She opened her mouth to speak, but could only choke, tears already streaming down uncontrollably, preceding any words.

Shi Yan looked at her deeply, his expression incredibly peculiar. His shoulders trembled slightly. After a long, long pause, he sighed softly, “I never expected it would be you.”

“I never expected it would be you,” the old woman finally managed to articulate through her sobs, her cheeks already wet with tears. Though her face was aged, one could perceive that she must have been a peerless beauty in her prime. She managed a desolate smile, “To see you once more before I pass from old age, I finally won't carry lifelong regret. Over two hundred years, and you are still unchanged, just as when we first met, not altered in the slightest. Yet I am old and decrepit, on the verge of death…”

“Where is Diyalan?” Shi Yan sighed.

“She failed to break through to the Heaven Rank, her lifespan ended, and she passed before me,” Mu Yudie said with a bitter smile, pointing to another bamboo hut nearby. “She lived there before, keeping me company. She passed away thirty years ago.”

“Why bother?” Shi Yan shook his head.

“I only wished to see you again someday. Even if I couldn't, I would at least have memories to hold onto,” Mu Yudie coughed, lowering her head. “You really should have come sooner. I wasn’t this ancient then; I could still meet people. You must be very disappointed now.”

“Why bother?” Shi Yan sighed again.

“I only wanted to tell you that I was wrong back then. My heart was blinded by hatred, and I failed to hold onto you. I have regretted that for two centuries,” Mu Yudie said softly.

“The matters of the past have long since vanished. I have long forgotten your mistakes. I only remember… that you once stirred my heart,” Shi Yan was silent for a long time before quietly placing down a bottle of elixirs. “This medicine can replenish your vitality and extend your lifespan. I hope… we can meet again.”

With that said, he glanced at the bamboo hut where Diyalan had lived, let out a deep sigh, twisted open a jar of strong liquor, and began to drink heavily. While gulping the strong spirit, he staggered out, singing loudly, “Between life and death, illusion is born and destroyed; heaven and earth are vast, the cosmos eternal; if fate wills it, we shall meet again…”

The profound truths of the Life and Death Samsara Secret Realm circulated incessantly within his sea of consciousness, advancing at a startling speed.