Beyond the myriad realms, beyond the reach of even Immortals, there flowed a river without beginning or end — the Long River of Time.

  Neither the River of Fate nor the Eternal River of Boundless Horizons could compare to it. It bore the weight of Past, Present, and Future — the very skeleton of existence.

  Since the splitting of Primordial Chaos into Heaven and Earth, the Long River had neither wavered nor sighed.

  Even the supreme beings, crowned with endless aeons, dared only to glance upon its misty waters, lest they be swallowed and erased from the annals of all things.

  It was said in ancient scrolls:

  "Upon birth, each living soul casts a True Body into the Long River of Time.

  Yet none may awaken it.

  Only by touching the Immortal Grand Dao and overcoming endless tribulations may one’s True Body break free.

  Yet even then, to seize it is to court annihilation."

  And yet—

  Now, the River trembled.

  The heavens roared. The Dao faltered. Myriad worlds shivered like leaves before an unseen wind.

  As the infant took his first breath, the ancient, unmoving Long River was set into violent upheaval!

  Waves of time surged skyward, colliding with ancient stars, shattering destinies, uprooting forgotten realms.

  Within the chaos—

  A figure rose.

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  A child, no more than an infant, wrapped in faint golden mist, stood barefoot upon the raging currents.

  He did not fear the River’s devouring hunger. He did not bow before the torrents of time. He simply stood — as if born of the Dao itself, as if heavens and earth were merely the backdrop to his presence.

  A hundred million ancient beings, hidden in the forgotten crevices of time, opened their eyes in shock. Sealed Emperors behind cosmic veils trembled.

  The True Body that cultivators dreamed of awakening after endless eons — this child had broken free at the instant of his birth!

  Within the mists of time, visions unfurled:

  A white-robed youth stepping across countless fallen worlds, lotus blossoms blooming with each step.

  Heavenly thrones crumbling to dust beneath a single glance.

  Forbidden lands yielding before him, primordial beasts offering their cores in reverence.

  Great Daos collapsing, only to be rewritten at a stroke of his brush.

  The Great Daos wept. The Three Thousand Realms cried out. Even the Supreme Laws dared not breathe.

  This child — his very existence transcended the bounds of Past, Present, and Future.

  Yet—

  Just as the Supreme Entities sought to peer deeper, the visions twisted, revealing a scene yet unborn:

  A boundless battlefield of Infinite Samsara, where worlds waged endless war. Eras collapsed. Immortal sects perished. Great Daos tore each other apart.

  Amid the chaos, a figure in simple white robes appeared.

  With each step across shattering stars, he held only a humble brush — yet from its tip flowed rivers of Primordial Dao, severing destinies, remaking existence.

  His eyes remained closed, unwilling to gaze upon the ruin of creation.

  Until—

  He opened his eyes.

  One serene, detached gaze — and the nine heavens and ten earths shattered. The barrier between future and present ripped apart. Even the Boundless Dao of Infinite Samsara split open, birthing a Parallel World never before conceived!

  In the next instant—

  The figure stretched out his slender hand. His palm, like a universe entire, extended toward the infant Mo Chen, far away in the past.

  And then—

  Time froze.

  Past. Present. Future.

  All ceased.

  The Rivers of Time, Fate, and Boundless Horizons stood still, paralyzed.

  The Supreme Beings held their breath. The Long River of Time — older than even the first light — quivered in awe.

  Suspended between two heartbeats, the worlds awaited.

  And in the hearts of all who witnessed, a single thought resounded:

  Who is this child, before whom even the Long River of Time must kneel?