Volume One: The First Steps on the Path Chapter Ten: The Illusory Realm of the Grand Void

After Ye Junze had more or less mastered the art of controlling the flying sword, he ended his practice with it and turned his focus to cultivating the Void Realm Guide the old man had left behind. Ye Junze knew that no matter how powerful other techniques might be, it was only the Void Realm Guide that formed the true foundation of his strength. If he couldn't break through in his own cultivation method soon, then no matter how many other means he acquired, he would never be able to unleash their full potential. In the end, Ye Junze was well aware that without cultivating the Void Realm Guide, he wouldn’t have the power he possessed now, let alone the ability to control the flying sword as he did moments before.

While he cultivated, Ye Junze faintly sensed a sign of breakthrough in his technique. Having already reached the perfection of the second level, he now felt the bottleneck starting to loosen. At this rate, in less than half a month, he would likely break through to the third level. At that time, his strength in all aspects would improve yet again. Had it really not been so long since his last breakthrough? Ye Junze pondered, but could only attribute it to the dense spiritual energy of Anze and the unique effects of the Illusory Void itself. At this thought, Ye Junze mused to himself, "Last time I broke through, my control over the Illusory Void improved somewhat. I wonder how much more it will grow if I break through again this time."

With these thoughts, Ye Junze continued to cultivate, his mind drifting to the matter of the Illusory Void before his eyes. He still remembered how he had inexplicably arrived here, and how, just as inexplicably, the old man had entrusted this place to him. Back then, he hadn’t understood this realm as he did now; all he could think was, “Don’t leave yet! At least tell me how to get out of here!” Yet the old man, who had already vanished who knows where, didn’t seem to think he’d forgotten anything important. Thus, only Ye Junze himself ever heard his desperate mental cries. Helpless, he had picked up the other Void Realm Guide the old man had left and started to leaf through it. At that time, there was no one to teach him what cultivation was or how to do it. So, when he first saw the manual, he couldn’t make sense of it at all—it was like asking a first grader to solve calculus problems. Unless the child was some prodigy, no ordinary person could ever manage it. With no method revealing itself no matter how he tried, Ye Junze could only cast the manual aside in resignation and fall asleep.

The next morning, when Ye Junze woke up to find himself lying in his own bed at home, he could only assume that everything from the night before had been a dream—the master, the technique, the illusory realm. Surely, it was just the stress from too much studying without rest, he had comforted himself. Yet, upon waking, Ye Junze couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. As he puzzled over the strange dream, his father and mother suddenly entered the room together. At the sight of Ye Junze sitting on the bed, his mother burst into tears for reasons unknown, hurried over, and threw her arms around him, sobbing, “You’ve finally woken up, my child. You had your mother worried sick. If you never woke up, what would your father and I have done?”

Startled by his mother’s sudden outburst, Ye Junze asked in confusion, “Mom, I’m fine, aren’t I? What do you mean, ‘never wake up’? Did something happen? Please don’t cry, let’s talk this through.”

But his mother seemed lost in the joy of having her child awake again, hearing nothing he said, only holding him and weeping.

His father, seeing this, didn’t interrupt her. Instead, he said to Ye Junze, “Son, you’ve been unconscious for three days and nights. We called doctors, took you to the hospital, but no one could find a reason. They just said you might be in an ultra-deep sleep, with no way to tell when you’d wake up. Your mother and I were worried sick, even considering taking you abroad for treatment. We’re just glad you’ve finally woken up.”

Ye Junze was taken aback. He distinctly remembered coming home from school, eating, studying, and going to bed as usual. How could he have slept for three days and nights? He asked, “Dad, what’s the date today?”

“It’s May 14th,” his father replied.

When Ye Junze heard this, he remembered clearly that yesterday had been the 10th. In disbelief, he grabbed his phone—sure enough, it was May 14th. Faced with this evidence, he realized his father’s words must be true, and his parents would never joke in such a way. It seemed that what he thought was a dream had not been a dream at all, Ye Junze thought quietly.

At this moment, his mother, having calmed down, wiped her tears and said, “I’m fine, just worried for my child. As long as you’re awake, everything’s all right.” Then, as if noticing something, she exclaimed anxiously, “Zeze, what’s happened to your hair? Dear, pack our things—we need to go to the hospital right now!”

His father, coming to his senses, looked at Ye Junze and said, “All right, I’ll get things ready right away.”

Still bewildered, Ye Junze asked, “Mom, what’s wrong with my hair? What are you talking about?”

His mother, anxious, replied, “Look in the mirror, sweetheart. Don’t be afraid—whatever illness you have, your father and I will make sure you get the best treatment.”

Ye Junze looked up at the mirror, only to see that his hair had turned completely white. Seeing this, he once again felt that what had happened last night was anything but ordinary, and that his transformation likely had something to do with that place. But he couldn’t tell his parents about it, or they would only worry more. So he tried to reassure them, saying, “Mom, it’s nothing, don’t worry. I feel great—better than before, in fact. Look!” As he spoke, he flexed his arm for his mother to see.

Seeing her child trying so hard not to worry her, his mother smiled helplessly, “Silly boy, if anything happened to you, what would your father and I do?”

“I’m really fine, Mom, there’s no need to go to the hospital. I bet if we did, it would be a wasted trip. Better to save the money and cook me something delicious. Besides, don’t you think I look even more handsome now?” Ye Junze joked.

“Oh, you! Always full of yourself. Rest for a while, all right? I’ll go cook you something good. But remember, if you feel even a little uncomfortable, tell us immediately—don’t try to endure it on your own.”

“I know, Mom, don’t worry. I’m really fine.”

Once his mother had left, Ye Junze thought back again to all that had happened the previous night. It seemed that, to get answers, he would have to return to that place—but for now, he had no idea how. He could only sigh, “Well, whatever comes, I’ll take it as it comes. If it wasn’t a dream, there’ll be another chance—I’m sure I’ll return there someday.”

At that time, Ye Junze had no idea that the opportunity he spoke of would arrive far sooner, and more unexpectedly, than he could ever imagine.