"Xun is Wind! Wind is the movement of Qi.

Cold and heat collide, two winds converge, the long wind unending, penetrating every crevice!" "Zhen is Thunder! Thunder is immense sound; sound vibrates, hence it is heard for a hundred li.

The East is Wood, and Wood possesses Yin and Yang, condensing to form Zhen!" The index finger swept across the stone stele, swiftly drawing the final streak of blood. Upon the Celestial Talisman Platform, sounds rose and fell in irregular bursts.

The melody was bizarre, now clearing the mind entirely, and the next moment, jarring the spirit into a state of hazy confusion. Zong Shou sucked at the wound on his fingertip, a measure of helplessness welling in his heart as he waited for the echoes of thunder to dissipate beside him.

Even without employing any spiritual energy or soul sense, the mere act of drawing these runes, imbued with the Great Dao of Nature, inherently carried a certain natural majesty. The Thunder Talisman was complete; next was the 'Fortune' Talisman.

Zong Shou’s brow inevitably furrowed slightly. Among the Twelve Celestial Talismans, this final one was what he felt least certain about.

Qi Luck and the trend of fortune were the most ethereal and difficult to predict. From the smallest ant and speck of dust to nations and worlds, everything possessed its own 'Fortune'.

In his past life, he had never truly grasped the profound meaning of its Great Dao. The reason he could succeed in this imitation was countless repetitions of practice, using the most cumbersome method to master this specific talisman.

He again touched the starting point of the rune with his index finger. The entire drill ground fell into a collective, sudden silence.

In mere moments, Zong Shou’s nascent spirit began to resonate with the rune. Then, his consciousness was forcibly extracted once more.

However, this time, he was not pulled by the stele to observe the various natural phenomena and manifestations between heaven and earth. Instead, it was like entering a dream so real that his consciousness became thoroughly submerged within it.

He couldn't tell how long it had been, but when Zong Shou snapped back to awareness, two streams of tears were actually tracing paths down his cheeks. In his trance, Zong Shou seemed to have lived through the entire life of an old man—the rise and fall of dynasties, the ebb and flow of a mere few decades of existence.

"So, this is the true meaning of the word 'Fortune'! It is this simple!" Laughing softly to himself, Zong Shou couldn't articulate his current state of mind.

The hostility he felt towards the Lingyun Sect had suddenly waned considerably. He did not know the intention of the Lingyun Ancestor in setting up the Small Luo Heaven Sword Array and erecting these twelve Divine Stele of the Heavenly Palaces.

But today, he, Zong Shou, had gained a significant, if somewhat indirect, benefit from this ancient powerhouse. Eleven Celestial Talismans, eleven illusions—though he had already grasped the true essence of the runes, the experience was far from unhelpful.

And the understanding he now possessed of the 'Fortune' rune, though merely the most superficial understanding of its meaning, allowed him to truly step across the threshold into the gate of this Great Dao, which was the most unpredictable yet contained supreme divine abilities! "Misfortune leans on fortune; fortune hides within misfortune.

Who knows its limits? It has no set boundary.

The normal becomes the strange, the good becomes the deceptive. Humanity’s confusion has persisted for a long time!" "To know the bold, guard the timid, to be the valley for the world; to know the glorious, guard the disgraced, to be the basin for the world; to know the bright, guard the dark, to be the model for the world!" "There is no door for fortune or misfortune; humans summon them themselves; the reward for good or evil follows like a shadow!" The Heavenly Dao exists naturally, and what is called Fortune lies within the Heavenly Dao.

But it is often unpredictable due to the constant changes in the natural cosmic environment. Humans have long been bewildered by the fortunes and misfortunes of fate; the interdependence and fluctuation between misfortune and fortune in destiny is like the inconstant nature of good and evil in humanity.

Therefore, "The root of misfortune lies in the evil of the self and the wickedness of the thought; the foundation of fortune lies in cultivating virtue and performing many good deeds." —But is the true meaning of the 'Fortune' rune truly this simple? Zong Shou let out a cold laugh, thinking to himself that if he entered the gate according to this path, he would likely never truly master the Way of Fortune in his lifetime.

If in this world everyone practiced goodness, would there then be no calamities? But for now, there was no need to delve too deeply.

As a mere nascent Spirit Master who could barely secure his own safety, why should he obsess over the true meaning of the Great Dao? He was neither qualified nor in a position to pursue it; he would simply follow the intention of the Lingyun Ancestor in inscribing it.

The streak of blood extended along the carved grooves. His nearly thousand attempts at imitating the 'Fortune' Talisman in his past life, coupled with his comprehension of its true meaning in this life, meant that every stroke Zong Shou made now was robust, agile, ethereal, and naturally formed, entirely devoid of the awkwardness of before.

And as the final stroke was completed, nothing more changed on the Celestial Talisman Platform, save for the stele itself—crafted from light-cloud stone—which suddenly fractured throughout its entire body, exploding into dust! The entire drill ground plunged into another dead silence.

Liang Miaozi's face was ashen white, while Lin Fei's expression was one of extreme gravity. Beneath the stone platform, Ge Hanyun was simply staring blankly, murmuring to herself in an almost inaudible voice.

"He actually managed to draw it. It was supposedly impossible.

Father said that someone below the Sun Roamer level could never touch the Way of Fortune. Forget Sun Roamer; even those who have shaped their 'True Form' lack this ability.

We are all ants beneath the Great Dao—how could we touch the true profound mysteries of the Heavenly Dao? And the brushwork for his runes—it improved again just now!

I'm so envious. Damn it, the Fortune Stele is broken.

Where will I go to learn the true meaning of this talisman now? Must I travel to the other Four Cloud Continents, or perhaps that Cloud Palace of the Lingyun Sect—" The youth beside her raised an eyebrow upon hearing this.

A flicker of surprise crossed his face before he shook his head. He still didn't quite grasp the implication of Ge Hanyun’s words, but he knew that the Heir of Qiantian Mountain standing on the platform had apparently accomplished something extraordinary.

Zong Shou held the pose of drawing the final stroke for a full half-breath. At the exact moment the stone talisman shattered, a warm current also flowed from his fingertip into his body, straight to his nascent spirit.

However, the volume of this influx was nearly ten times greater than what he had received from the previous eleven steles. Zong Shou finally understood what these warm currents were.

"They are runes… Celestial Talisman Spirit Seeds? In that case, the chilling energy within those eighteen Sword Puppets is also likely as I suspected—" His thoughts spun briefly, and Zong Shou cleared his mind.

Looking at the scattered stone fragments before him and the still silent crowd below, he instantly felt his chest expand with clarity, all pent-up frustration dispelled. "Satisfying!" He laughed softly, his eyebrows arching slightly, revealing a hint of elation.

He had long wished to severely curb the arrogance of the Lingyun Sect. In his past life, though he had slain countless Lingyun disciples in the virtual reality realm, he could never strike at their foundation.

Unexpectedly, in this life, reborn ten thousand years in the past, he could fulfill the desire of his previous existence. "Is this the Small Luo Heaven Sword Array that no one can break?

The Twelve Celestial Talismans that no one can imitate? Are the thirty thousand disciples of the Lingyun Sect perhaps inferior to me, a cripple?

Heh—" Zong Shou sneered, but the words caught in his throat. Recalling the gift from the Lingyun Ancestor within his body, he found himself unable to utter harsher words.

Lin Fei's expression shifted slightly, then quickly returned to calm: "Long ago, the Ancestor decreed that whoever succeeded with either the eighteen Sword Puppets or the Twelve Celestial Talisman Divine Stele could become a direct disciple of the Headmaster. One who achieves both may enter the Ancestor Hall for three years of cultivation ten years from now.

What does the Heir think?" The gazes from below immediately turned focused, all silently awaiting Zong Shou’s decision. They understood that this frail youth needed only a single word today to rise above everyone present.

And the mention of the Ancestor Hall elicited indescribable envy. In the distance, Liang Miaozi clenched his fists until his knuckles cracked, his expression shifting between shades of dark and light.

—There truly exists in this world someone with supreme natural talent in both Martial Dao and Spirit Arts. And yet, this astonishing, peerless genius has appeared in this boy!

Zong Shou’s heart also trembled, and a moment of indecision inexplicably arose in his mind. Three years of cultivation in the Lingyun Sect’s Ancestor Hall?

Such a good thing existed? The Ancestor Hall of the Lingyun Sect was one of the Ten Great Sacred Lands of the Cloud Realm.

Though ranked last, it gathered the essence of the martial and soul paths cultivated by the geniuses of every generation throughout Lingyun’s ten thousand years—a place countless sought after. The Twelve Celestial Talismans and the Small Luo Heaven Sword Array here, though extraordinary, were merely the most rudimentary techniques compared to the Martial Arts and Spirit Laws within that Sacred Land.

He swallowed, his mouth watering slightly with desire. But the next instant, his gaze fell upon Yin Yang and Chu Xue below, and he secretly mocked himself.

"The Ancestor Hall? I am indeed tempted.

But I, Zong Shou, do not possess such thick skin. Having been cursed as a waste today, I don't necessarily have to pledge allegiance to the Lingyun Sect.

They wouldn't want me anyway, given my Dual Meridian Body, would they?"