Time folds in, years shift,
The flow of time suddenly freezes, even the strands of Dao rhythm in the world still at this moment.
Zhang Fusheng clearly felt his memory of the hundredth lifetime become unprecedentedly clear,
as if it has been wiped clean of millennia of dust, every fragment vivid as yesterday, within reach.
From his youth, with a three-foot Qingfeng sword at his waist, traversing mountains and waters to roam the world,
To withdrawing resolutely at the age of thirty,
And then the little things on that mountain, the simple wooden cabin, the fields he cultivated by hand, the diligent farming of sowing in spring and harvesting in autumn,
And...that child who loved to follow behind him, with pigtails swinging, calling out "sir" in a childish voice.
The child was no longer a child.
The Daluo has yet to truly achieve everlasting verification, time ancient and modern alike, today confirming the Daluo, even born as an infant is already Daluo,
Let alone the Supreme?
