Above the river of time and space, an eerie silence fell.
Daoist Ancestor Zheng Chu sat cross-legged on the other side of the river, casually tossing the shattered Glazed Realm into it, letting it drift downstream.
His expression remained unchanged, as if he were a lifeless puppet.
Having lost more than half of his cultivation, his Golden Body was no longer as brilliant as before, appearing weathered by time, with mottled old marks showing.
"Zheng Chu, you may not recognize me at this moment, but I have long known you."
Fu Pinglan calmed down, no longer in a hurry to strike. He put away the Tao Tribulation Stick and slowly approached the river's edge, sitting across from Zheng Chu, speaking solemnly:
"The threads of cause and effect from past to future are numerous and tangled. I have yet to unravel them. If you truly possess divine insight, have you calculated that today is your death day?"
