In the misty rain, the woman walked along the bluestone path, weaving through the ancient town. With a haunting sigh, she was engulfed by the terrifying thunder, bursting apart into specks of red rain that fluttered down.

"Is she... dead?!"

"Did you hear that? A real voice came out!"

Wang Xuan and Old Chen were both shocked, having never encountered a being that spoke within an inner realm, regardless of its strength. They waited in silence, but the woman did not reappear; she had truly vanished, her red light fading into the downpour. Had she endured just to catch a glimpse of the future?

A small, patterned cat appeared nearby, opening its mouth in what seemed to be a silent meow, tears streaming down its cheeks. It was a heart-wrenching sight—this little creature seemed profoundly sorrowful. Yet, Wang Xuan and Old Chen knew better than to underestimate any being that manifested in an inner realm.

The appearance of two beings in one inner realm was unusual, particularly given the woman's audible sigh, which felt as if it echoed right next to them. The patterned cat lay amid the ruins, silently weeping, its tears unceasing.

Old Chen sighed, "Is this the cat the woman raised? Did she explode into thunder while ascending, leaving behind a nearly immortal cat? It seems the red-clad woman was extraordinarily powerful; that thunder was abnormally immense."

"Old Chen, go comfort that little cat; it's too pitiful," Wang Xuan suggested.

Old Chen turned to him, "You go in first!"

"You should check on the cat! It's just a creature, but it can feel sorrow too. You can't just ignore it," Wang Xuan insisted.

"Am I your pathfinder?" Old Chen shot back.

As they whispered, the cat approached, still meowing silently, tears flowing as it looked at Old Chen with a confused expression.

Old Chen tightened his grip on his sword and said nothing, while Wang Xuan stood outside the inner realm, also silent. The three—two men and one cat—observed each other, locked in a peculiar standoff.

The strange cat seemed to be trying to communicate without sound, exuding energy waves. Old Chen nearly swung his sword at it but managed to hold back. The cat then stepped back, glancing at them in bewilderment.

"Have you been here for endless ages?" Old Chen asked.

The cat remained confused, eventually nodding slowly and pointing outside, as if inquiring about something.

"Out there? The world has changed; it's definitely different from your era," Old Chen replied, recounting tales of the past.

Wang Xuan stepped inside, feeling the weight of the Golden Body Technique. Now with the "Snake Crane Eight Dispersion," he sensed he could continue understanding the Five Pages of the Golden Book.

Old Chen mused, "I think this time you should focus on Old Zhang's technique. Imagine his later fame."

"Right!" Wang Xuan nodded, having the "Snake Crane Eight Dispersion" etched in his mind, allowing him to reflect freely within the inner realm, its mysteries unfolding around him.

Old Chen narrated tales while adjusting his posture to practice his own techniques. Years passed, and Wang Xuan thoroughly studied the "Snake Crane Eight Dispersion." It wasn't the terrifying body technique that would make immortals wary, but merely an inspired creation by Old Zhang.

It compared favorably to the Great King Kong Fist, filling the gap in Wang Xuan's lack of conventional attack techniques. After all, the Golden Body Technique enhanced his overall physical attributes, focusing on defense, but he felt ready for offense now.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

In these years, Old Chen had been contemplating the Ghost Monk's boxing style. It resembled the Great King Kong Fist but surpassed it. Old Chen privately informed Wang Xuan that this was likely the legendary Bodhisattva Fist, one of the Buddhist sect's supreme arts, wielding unparalleled power.

The most critical aspect, Old Chen believed, was that the Bodhisattva Fist resonated with his temperament, proving beneficial without harming his organs.

Wang Xuan inwardly scoffed at Old Chen's self-image, thinking it ironic to call him a compassionate Bodhisattva, viewing it as a profound insult to past masters.

Time flowed swiftly; twenty years passed within the inner realm, yet Wang Xuan felt no signs of aging. Whenever fatigue struck, he was rejuvenated by mysterious substances, restoring his vigor.

This was a rare period of tranquility, lasting so long that Wang Xuan painstakingly completed the second image of the Golden Book. During this time, his organs sustained numerous injuries, but in the inner realm, the mysterious essence nurtured him, healing his wounds and allowing him to persevere through it all.

Today was different; his realm had elevated, granting him deeper comprehension of the Golden Book's contents, and he successfully executed the second technique.

Old Chen occasionally recounted stories and sometimes petted the little cat, living rather leisurely. He had refined the Bodhisattva Fist to a certain level.

"Old Chen, do you think the flow of time here is the same as outside?" Wang Xuan inquired, walking over to pet the cat, rubbing its head affectionately.

The cat seemed to want to meow but remained silent; it had listened to Old Chen's stories for many years. This time, Old Chen spoke slowly, sharing tales of modern warships, and when there was nothing more to say, he began to weave tales of the future.

Old Chen explained, "It's not a matter of time flow; we haven't truly lingered for so long. I believe we are in an exceptionally active state of mind and body. Our spirits and bodies, in this heightened condition, experience rapid transformation with our cultivation. Our perceptions of time feel altered due to this intense activity."

He continued, "Just like how humans excel in the competition of all beings; in times of crisis, some may undergo mutations, enabling them to surpass other races. At certain points in history, humans suddenly rose to prominence without any transitional phases recorded in history; that's how it works."

Wang Xuan nodded, "That makes sense. But if we explain it as years in the inner realm equating to just a minute in the outside world, that also holds true. The two interpretations aren't in conflict. Our eternal youth stems from the nourishing mysterious substances here. Furthermore, in this space, our minds are in absolute tranquility and extreme calmness. Aside from our established cultivation goals, other thoughts are gradually swept away. Thus, cultivating the ancient methods of the pre-Qin alchemists, along with body techniques, will strengthen oneself, and with the aid of secret medicines, we naturally remain youthful and unaging."

Old Chen also agreed, finding both explanations valid.

"Little kitty, what do you think?" Wang Xuan reached out to pet it again.

The patterned cat bared its teeth, playfully swatting at him, looking fierce.

Wang Xuan patted its head and stepped back a bit, then said, "Old Chen, the deputy from the relevant department is meeting with three old men. They aren't considering what happens after your death, are they? Also, I feel like I've been singled out. After we leave, could you help arrange things carefully?"

Old Chen replied, "For now, your identity won't be exposed. Qingmu is cautious. When you went to Congling under Wang Xiao's name, he had someone wear a realistic mask for you while you stayed in Ancheng."

Wang Xuan sighed, "Old Qing is a good person, much better than you!" After a moment of thought, he added, "Since you've come in, I might as well look after Old Qing too."

With that, Wang Xuan turned to leave.

"Make it quick," Old Chen urged, clearly anxious.

…

Qingmu was bewildered. When he finally saw the inner realm, he could hardly believe his eyes—there was truly another world beyond the current one?

Now he began to understand the various "inside jokes" his master and Wang Xuan shared; they weren't as outrageous as they seemed.

This time, Wang Xuan had nearly exhausted himself—he wasn't exaggerating. He realized that sending two people into the same inner realm was his limit.

He collapsed in the inner realm, gasping for air and greedily absorbing the mysterious substance to replenish his spirit, which felt like it was on the verge of collapsing.

"Where's my master?" Qingmu asked, then froze in shock. What was that thing lurking in the ruins, tearing at his master? Only the legs were visible, thrashing wildly outside a massive, blood-filled maw.

"Oh my god, this is the inner realm! I want to go back! No, I need to save my master first!" Qingmu shouted, charging forward.

"Old Chen... did the cat take him?!" After catching his breath, Wang Xuan quickly followed, sensing a disturbance in the air.

At the same time, he noticed an unusual ripple deep within the inner realm, where a figure in red was faintly visible. It seemed separated by a veil, preventing her from crossing over, silently observing the scene.

Wang Xuan felt a pounding headache—this situation was truly unlike anything he had faced before!

"The pristine white bone belongs to the White Tiger Demon; it's a key to this inner realm. But it seems the White Tiger Demon is merely a pet of some greater being!" As he dashed to save Old Chen, countless thoughts raced through Wang Xuan's mind.