After a timeless time, he came upon a feature in the darkness. A small shape, pushing out of the ground. A hand, clawing for the sky. All white, with black fingernails.

Hui knelt. Tipping his head back and forth, he inspected the hand. This looks almost like… well, almost like the very first beginning steps of a resentment demon.

Hmm. Rather than a Dao Realm, is this space more like the garbage disposal of the world? Ha… that’s more fitting for this small bug!

From the beginning, I’m something that didn’t belong in this world, aren’t I. I shouldn’t be too surprised that I wound up in such a place eventually. If the laws of the world were operating correctly, I probably would’ve been born here and died not long after.

Not that I was born. But that’s not the point.

He stretched the skin on the back of his hand again. Like glutinous rice, it stretched and stretched, far further than it should have. The golden stitches appeared, already healing.

And what are these? A form of life qi… no. They’re the threads of life and death. Stitching myself together with those… ah. Isn’t that the same as forcibly remaining in this world past one’s natural lifespan? To pierce my own flesh with my own life and death…

In that half-instinct, half-numb state I was in, it was the best I could muster.

He flipped his hand over, palm up, and summoned a tongue of phoenix fire. Nothing happened.

This realm rejects phoenixes?

No, wait. If this is a garbage dump, then anything allowed in here can be considered as running counter to the world’s intentions. Everything inside is broken and mistaken, muddled at best and entirely foreign objects to the world at worst.

I remember… I could see these threads far too early. To manipulate them is surely to go against Heaven’s will, and yet, I received no punishment. Even as far back as then, the Heavens have been in chaos. It makes sense that I can use them now.

Phoenixes, meanwhile, have been rejected. But that, too, makes sense. The realm rejecting phoenixes indicates that phoenixes are acceptable in the eyes of Heaven. What I’ll find here are only those things that Heaven rejects.

He turned his attention inward, calling on his various kinds of qi. Rot qi responded, as did death and life qi. Hui frowned. Eh? But those seem fundamental to the world. How can they be rejected?

Looking closer, his eyes widened. Tiny threads emerged from the life and death qi alike, binding both his soul and his body together. Death qi for his soul, and life qi for his body. At places, the gold life qi and the black death qi blurred together, becoming one to bind his soul to his body.

No. It’s not life and death qi. It’s the tangled-up way I’ve used them that’s allowed in this realm. Or in other words, rejected by the Heavens.

He put a hand on his chin, thoughtful. I’m outside of the loop right now. Outside of the purview of the Heavens. Likewise, all my techniques that succeed here are outside of the purview of the Heavens. All the things I can use here are what should become the foundation of my plan to defeat the Golden Immortal.

But at the same time, ‘time’ is the Golden Immortal’s ultimate trump card. Unless I can find a power to negate or overturn time, then I need to obtain mastery of time. Or… at least enough mastery of some small piece of the power of time to turn the tides against the Golden Immortal’s trump card.

He walked on, thinking as he went. Reaching out hand, he grasped at the air. It moved around his fingers, impossible to grasp. Like time. Here I am, in an empty space, with nothing but time, and even so, I can’t comprehend it.

Well, I’m not Master. It takes time.

Time…

It always comes back to time.

Hui jolted to a halt. Eh, wait. Needing time to comprehend time… but that’s… I can’t accomplish step one, so I can’t ever reach step two. I’m going about this wrong. Having time… possessing time is only possible after I comprehend it. To comprehend time, I don’t need time. I need… I need…

His brows furrowed. What do I need?

He went back to walking.

Ahead, objects stuck out of the white realm. Bits of land. The ruins of buildings. Artifacts. He passed by a dead body, pausing to kick it over and check the face.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

No one I recognize.

I’m not the first one to end up here. Ha… but he died.

Er, or was he dead upon arrival? I can’t be sure.

If he died here, then… Hui blinked. Is it really that easy to escape? All I need to do is die?

A second later, he shook his head. Let’s not be hasty. He was probably a cultivator who belongs in this world, not a foreign soul who slipped in like me. I can’t use the same techniques available to people of this world.

The world began to grow cluttered, full of all sorts of strange items. Bodies grew more numerous, in places piling up. Hui breathed lightly, but none of them stunk. Luckily, this is a cultivation world. Bodies can survive for hundreds, no, thousands of years without decaying. And all these bodies are… He knelt, putting a hand on one’s wrist, and sent a pulse of qi inside. Yes, as I suspected. Immortal.

I wonder. The Immortal Realm, right now, is very… how to put it? Clean. It’s as though it’s perfectly made to fit the Golden Immortal’s vision. The small towns. The large, central Heart Lotus City, with the four palaces. The only large, prosperous sect outside of Heart Lotus City was the brothel, if that can count as prosperous, and aside from that, I only found ruins and perhaps the ghost of some other sect in those uniformed cultivators. There aren’t many sects, or anyone fighting for power. It’s all quiet. Clean. Simple.

When the Golden Immortal took over, when he wiped out all opposition… is this where he put it?

Hui paused, then jolted. His eyes glittered. And who else is going to loot this trash heap but this small cultivator? Ah, Senior! Allow me to clean up your trash. I’ll be very thorough, okay? You can trust me. Number one cleaning service, coming right up!

Leaping into the air, he scuttled over the ruins like a cockroach, scooping up everything that looked valuable or exuded a powerful Immortal-level aura. Even the bodies weren’t left to rest in peace, as Hui carefully and gently liberated them of their storage rings and gear.

Of course, Hui thought, dripping with rings and laden with bags and loot, a dozen swords dangling from his belt, three shields and a greataxe strapped to his back, all this stuff belonged to the losers. That means that even if I throw it all at the Golden Immortal, I won’t succeed.

A moment later, he shrugged. But in the meantime, I can get rich, or at least use all this gear to defend against other Immortals!

At the far end of the ruins, the items began to peter out again, the featureless white once again taking over. Hui sighed, mildly disappointed. I suppose I couldn’t keep looting forever. Storing his loot, he went to walk on.

From the corner of his eye, a small shape caught his attention. He jerked to a halt and whipped around. Zhubi?

Even as he ran to Zhubi’s side, a larger body appeared beside the small snake. Black hair laid strewn on the white ground, an impassive face flat, eyes closed, pink lips slightly parted, as if in sleep. Hui froze mid-step. Li Xiang…

Zhubi and Li Xiang? But why? Why are they, if they, if they—

If they came to the Immortal Realm and realized their truth.

Hui’s eyes flew wide. His heart thudded in his chest. No.

He ran to Li Xiang’s side and gathered her in his arms. Her lifeless body flopped against him, cold, unyielding as stone. He hugged her tight, knuckles going white. Li Xiang, Li Xiang, you aren’t, you aren’t trash! Nor Zhubi! He waved his hand, putting the small snake’s body around his neck. It weighed on his shoulders, as heavy as stone.

But it’s clear, isn’t it?

As soon as we arrived, we were told to change.

All of us. Even I was cast as a mortal.

Then—

Then. That very moment was the moment that we lost.

There’s no more going forward. I have to go back. Before we gave in. Before we complied with the Immortal Realm’s laws.

It’s already too late. Even if I go back… No. I need those five hundred years. I need the time Song Wei experienced. And more than that, even. Who knows how many loops Song Wei lived through? Who knows what state the mortal realm is in?

Back. I need to go back.

But how?

Hui stood. He carried Li Xiang’s body in his hands and wore Zhubi’s small snake form around his neck. In his white robes stitched with gold, with a white snake on his neck, carrying the white-robed Li Xiang, he walked through the white realm.

Is it too late?

If it’s too late, then how do I change that?

Time.

The last of the ruins passed behind him. Once again, nothing but a void stretched ahead, as if walking into a blank piece of paper.

Even if I returned to that time with Song Wei and the Elusive Ghost, what could I achieve?

Maybe it’s better to stay here. Forever. Where no one can harm me.

The lone living being in a sea of white, he strode onward.

A gold thread dangled. Hui looked around. He didn’t know how, but he knew for certain that he had returned to his beginning spot, the place from which he had seen the first thread. Holding Li Xiang, he looked at it.

A spider’s thread in Hell.

If only one climbed up it, then they could all escape, one by one. But they were all too selfish, and jumped at the line; and so it snapped, and they fell back into Hell.

He looked down at his arms, felt Zhubi on his neck.

And yet for me, the curse is the opposite of selfishness. I must be selfish to escape.

I can abandon Li Xiang and Zhubi, and climb that thread. They’re only bodies anyways. It’s merely my misplaced attachment that’s holding me to them.

He lifted a hand, cradling Li Xiang in one arm like a child. Her head lolled against his shoulder. Black hair spilled down his sleeve like rich tea. His fingertips brushed the golden strand.

Reaching his hand up, he twisted the thread around his hand, looping it a few times to get a good grip. He pulled on it once, testing it.

A vicious grin split Hui’s face. He tore at the thread, pulling with all his might.

“Abandon them? Ha! I’m not playing along with your games any longer.”

The thread grew taut. It began to tear. Peals of bells sounded, warning him, desperately crying for him to stop.

“I won’t be bound by this world’s rules. I refuse. I’m the one who reverses death. I’m the one who rejects this world.” His eyes flicked up, gazing at the point at which the thread vanished.

High above, a familiar eye peeked through a crack down at him. Hui laughed, looking right back at it. “Isn’t that right, Master?”