The great hall of Heavenly Harmony Peak remained silent, save for the gentle whisper of celestial winds stirring ancient banners.

  Upon the central dais, Mo Yunhai stood firm, his arms gently cradling the infant whose very existence had caused the Great River of Time to tremble.

  The child’s breath was soft, yet with each exhale, faint ripples distorted the Dao itself, as if countless unseen threads bowed to his mere presence.

  From within the layers of drifting immortal mist, Mu Yange, Peak Master of Heavenly Harmony, stepped forward.

  Her beauty was as though woven from the purest scripture and sacred blossoms, an existence unsullied by mortal dust, her every movement invoking the harmonies of heaven and earth.

  A faint weariness flickered across her celestial gaze, yet her smile, though restrained, contained a tenderness deep enough to melt rivers of jade.

  In a voice gentle yet resonant, she spoke:

  "Husband, bestow upon our child a name...that it may accompany him as he treads the boundless heavens."

  Mo Yunhai, whose mere name once shook mountains and severed rivers, felt his heart tremble ever so slightly.

  He gazed down at the tiny life in his arms, the child who had severed the threads of fate, the infant whom even the Boundless Dao of Infinite Samsara could not bind.

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  A rare gentleness suffused his sword-like eyebrows.

  With solemn reverence, he declared:

  "Henceforth, he shall be named — Mo Chen (墨辰)."

  墨 (Mo) — as boundless and profound as the endless ink of existence.辰 (Chen) — as enduring and resplendent as the stars that oversee myriad destinies.

  The name, though softly spoken, echoed as though a great bell had tolled across heaven and earth.

  At that instant, the endless firmament stirred.

  High above, the sealed stars that watched over countless worlds quivered slightly, and a single ancient star burned with blinding brilliance, casting beams of starlight upon the Heavenly Harmony Peak.

  Invisible to mortal sight, the karmic threads of myriad beings shivered in unison, as though the Great Dao itself was marking this moment deep into the annals of eternity.

  In the cradle of Mo Yunhai’s arms, the new born — Mo Chen —smiled.

  It was a smile untouched by worldly dust, a smile born beyond karma and destiny.

  Even the statues of ancient immortals within the Main Hall seemed to shudder lightly, their cold stone gazes softening imperceptibly, as if bowing to the new existence before them.

  Among the gathered elders, disciples, and guardians, hearts softened, and breaths were held in awe. None dared speak.

  They understood — vaguely, faintly —that today, before their very eyes, a being had descended who would one day walk beyond the heavens, tread beyond samsara, and inscribe a new chapter upon the scrolls of all existence.

  Thus, under the vast and unending sky, amidst the silent weeping of stars, Mo Chen was named.

  An existence without past karma. An existence beyond destined future. A lone sovereign fated to paint the heavens themselves.