The engraved image on the bronze plate profoundly stunned Zhang Yuanqing, causing a surge of thoughts to explode in his mind and waves of emotion to rise. In ancient times, meteorites from beyond the heavens descended upon the earth, and the first humans to come into contact with them gained supernatural powers, thus becoming deities in the eyes of ordinary people. This was different from Zhang Yuanqing's understanding—he had always believed that ancient deities achieved their status by deeply comprehending the mysteries of heaven and earth, developing cultivation techniques, mastering the spiritual energies flowing through nature, and gradually becoming powerful figures in the eyes of common folk. Who could have imagined that the ancient beings revered as gods were merely fortunate individuals who had come into possession of fragments of meteorites? This revelation left Zhang Yuanqing both disenchanted and deeply alert—where did the meteorite rain originate? After a long silence, he turned to the beautiful woman beside him, only to find her steadily gazing at the image, lost in thought. Clearly, the scene had equally struck her with powerful impact. "Lady of the Palace," Zhang Yuanqing hesitated, then said, "Do you think the content of the painting is somewhat credible?" "Master Zhi Sha said softly, "If I saw it from elsewhere, I'd remain skeptical. But the things left behind by the Huang Wò Emperor should be accurate. Yuan-Shi, the Huang Wò Emperor's level is higher than you imagined. She commands the ultimate powers of both the Master of Music and the Scholar, holding the highest status in myth and legend." Zhang Yuanqing nodded. "It's truly hard to believe..." "Master, do you think the meteor shower depicted in the painting might be our origin—the very source of ancient cultivators and beings of the Spiritual Realm?" He proposed a hypothesis so profound it would drive ordinary practitioners to question their sanity. "Could the supernatural forces on our planet have originated from extraterrestrial meteorites?" Master Zhi Sha pondered for a long time, then said, "The imagery on the painting carries more symbolic meaning—the things that descend to earth may not necessarily be meteors. In fact, I'm more curious: who exactly is responsible for these meteor showers?" Extraterrestrial civilization? Higher-dimensional beings? To resolve this mystery, the two turned their attention to the next bronze plaque. He examined four consecutive panels, each depicting deities guiding mortal beings in resisting nature and thriving through reproduction and development. The divine beings, endowed with supernatural powers, taught humans to harness fire, redirect rivers to irrigate fields, instructed mortals in observing celestial phenomena, and established calendars and seasonal cycles. Thus, they transitioned the hunting civilization into an agricultural one. Zhang Yuanqing suddenly spoke, expressing his curiosity: "It's strange—why are there no evil professions?" The scenes in the reliefs were all harmonious, vibrant, and focused on flourishing life and the growth of the species. If the origins of the Spirit Travelers trace back to these meteorites, then one would expect to find evil professions as well. "Here..." the Master of Zhishā, her gaze fixed on one of the final two bronze panels. Zhang Yuanqing hurried over and carefully studied the reliefs. Like the first panel, dark clouds rolled over the sky, showering the earth with meteorites, accompanied by blazing flames that pierced the land. The earth splits open with terrifying fissures, and molten lava surges forth. Animals and humans alike transform into towering, fearsome monsters that ravage the land, slaughtering countless beings. Amidst the scene of corpses scattered everywhere, a luminous woman ascends toward the sky. The final image shows the clouds parting and the sun shining brightly, with two beams of light descending from the heavens. Zhang Yuanqing draws a sharp breath, quickly interpreting the scene: "This should be the second wave of meteor showers, different from the first. This time, it brings destruction and calamity—meteors contaminate animals and humans, transforming them into monsters and creating unimaginable disasters." The Master of the Zheng Sha Palace nods and says: "The second wave of meteor showers should bring forth the forces of the evil faction. The first wave gives rise to the orderly professions, while the second wave generates the predatory, destructive monsters..." She presses her lips together, her voice growing solemn: "Doesn't this sound as though someone is conducting an experiment on Earth?" "If the first meteor showers arrived, giving rise to the 'divine beings' of chaos and order, that might have been an accident. But this orderly sequence—two successive meteor showers, first constructing and then destroying—seems less like chance and more like a deliberate plan. So perhaps the emergence of orderly and chaotic professions was the result of experiments conducted on Earth? That notion sends a shiver down one's spine... Zhang Yuanqing elaborates: 'And when Nuwa, moved by the suffering of all living beings, sacrificed herself to avert this catastrophe, the myth tells us that the heavens collapsed, the earth cracked, and Nuwa forged stones to mend the sky—thereafter, peace prevailed, and no more world-shattering disasters occurred. Yet—could it be that she didn't mend the sky at all, but rather eliminated the extraterrestrial experimenters?' 'A bold hypothesis,' the Lady Zhengsha nods. She thinks exactly the same way. "So it seems, the status of the Nüwa Emperor is quite formidable. Look—there are no appearances of those 'deities' in the carvings, only Nüwa herself. This indicates that only she could resolve this disaster; the other deities are simply not sufficient. Moreover, it's not out of the question that the carvings Nüwa left behind are deliberately enhancing her own image." Zhang Yuanqing's thoughts were growing increasingly clear. His mind raced, drawing upon relevant information, and then suddenly, he exclaimed, "A world-ending catastrophe!! I've just realized something: the predecessor organization of the Xiao Yao Sect, the Xiao Yao Sect, once recorded a world-ending catastrophe—could this very event be the one Nüwa experienced?" He didn't need to explain what the Xiao Yao Sect was; the Master of Stopping the Killing certainly knew it well, and undoubtedly understood the organization far better than he did. "You've actually uncovered the Xiao Yao Sect!" the Master of Stopping the Killing smiled, her gaze fixed on the content of the bronze tablet. She nodded in agreement, "Based on the current information, yes." Zhang Yuanqing said, "So the Light Compass's prophecy points to the 'Experimenters,' don't you think? For now, we'll refer to the people who launched the meteorites as the Experimenters. By combining the imagery on the scroll, we can interpret the Light Compass's prophecy: a great disaster akin to that of ancient times will recur, with evil forces destroying the world entirely. Yet the Light Compass speaks of the 'Sun, Moon, and Stars' aligning—its key figures are the Night-Wanderers, not the musicians and scholars under the control of the Nüwa Emperor. That seems quite unusual." No, it makes sense for lawful, orderly professions to do so, but why would the Shura also invest in the night wanderers? Shouldn't evil professions be dedicated to bringing about the world's destruction? Zhang Yuanqing had just unraveled one mystery when he found himself facing a new one. Moreover, one of his earlier hypotheses had been proven incorrect—the Lingjing practitioners are indeed the norm. When he first learned of the Xiaoyao Sect's records of the Great Extinction, he had assumed that ancient cultivators were not the norm, but rather survivors who evolved after a great disaster. He had imagined that the cultivators before the disaster might have been similar to today's Lingjing practitioners. But now, the detailed illustrations clearly contradict this view—the Wuhuang era clearly did not have the Lingjing tradition. Thus, Lingjing cultivation truly appears to be a modern development. "Wait a moment," Zhang Yuanqing suddenly said. "What's wrong?" the Palace Mistress asked, sending him a questioning glance. Zhang Yuanqing analyzed: "The Huangdi is mistaken, and so is the subject of the experiment... Master, if you were the subject of the experiment, would you have deployed a force capable of opposing you? It seems unreasonable that the Huangdi, as a venerable cultivator who grew up in contact with meteorites, would have eliminated the subject. Perhaps we have misunderstood the entire situation—maybe there was never actually a subject at all?" Master frowned, thought for a moment, then shook her head: "The matter is certainly not that simple. The two paintings are brief and convey only limited information. We are still too early to draw any firm conclusions." With that, the two fell into silence, quietly absorbing these astonishing revelations, and then turned their attention to the final bronze plaque. "There truly were three-legged golden sun birds nesting on the Fu Sang tree in ancient times," the Master of Zhishi Palace said, glancing at the paintings. "Another myth has been confirmed." She then turned to the young man beside her, noticing his fixed gaze on the first painting, his brows furrowed. "What's wrong?" she asked. "The sun on the tree branches feels familiar—I've seen something like it before," Zhang Yuanqing said, his tone uncertain. "The small sun the Magus used to balance the Fallen Holy Cup resembles it quite closely." Of course, the similarity was only visual; it wasn't certain whether the two were identical. After all, these were just carvings, lacking the true essence. The Master of Zhishi Palace, her beautiful eyes beneath her mask shifting, touched her lips with her finger, thinking. "The Empress Wua cultivated this bronze divine tree seemingly to house ten golden sun birds. Given how highly she valued them, the golden sun birds must be of exceptional rank. I believe," she said, "that's precisely the small sun you described." "The Empress Wua is no ordinary figure—she has gathered so many remarkable items," Zhang Yuanqing remarked, filled with admiration. Flying alone to save the world from a cataclysmic disaster, mastering the highest essences of the musicians and scholars, and nurturing the Ten Solar Birds within a heavenly sanctuary—no wonder the Nüwa Emperor is the only figure in mythological legends confirmed to have truly existed. Moreover, the Magistrate once mentioned that the Small Sun is the pinnacle of the Night Wandering Spirit profession, and since the Small Sun is the Golden Bird, following this logic, gathering the Ten Solar Birds would equate to mastering the "Sun" aspect of the Compass of Light? As Zhang Yuanqing was lost in thought, he suddenly heard the Palace Master of Zhishi exclaim joyfully, "Ah!" "The Bronze Divine Tree is the abode of the Golden Birds, constantly bathed in the radiance of the Sun God's power—it must have absorbed their essence. Yuan-Shi, I present you with a gift." With that, she lifted her skirt and burst out of the tree hollow. Zhang Yuanqing had no idea what she intended to do, so he followed closely behind, stepping out of the mountain cave together. Outside the cave, he saw the Master of Zhishi glide away, her flowing robes and hair billowing like Chang'e racing to the moon, landing on the lowest branch. Zhang Yuanqing mimicked the Chairman's gesture, tapping his fingers: "Stellar Flight." A shimmering stream of starlight materialized beside the Master, asking, "What would you like me to do?" Even though the trunk of the bronze divine tree had been scorched by the Golden Sun, transforming it into a material infused with the power of the sun god, they still couldn't move this colossal tree. During his previous expedition with Chian He to the High Heaven Plain, Zhang Yuanqing had tested the tree's hardness—indeed, it was unyielding. He didn't believe that the divine tree crafted by the Nüwa Emperor, meant as a sanctuary for the Golden Sun, could be destroyed by the Sovereign. If the Sovereign could accomplish that, then the ten suns, the very embodiment of the sun's supreme power, would have already scorched and destroyed the tree long ago. In a sense, this tree was truly a treasure—though, at this stage, they simply couldn't bring it into their possession or utilize it. The Gong Zhu made no explanation. She extended her hand, and the red thread burst forth, spreading densely across the trunk, forming an invisible, endless red carpet. The temperature around rapidly rose, the air distorting as if scorched, waves of suffocating heat crashing against them. Zhang Yuanqing felt a burning pain spreading across his face, his eyebrows and hair beginning to curl and char. The Master of Stopping Death quickly pulled out the Immortal Pot, opened the lid, and captured the golden flames within. Then, she replicated the same process—causing ten branches to conceive and bear fruit, extracting the stored power of the Sun God from each, and transferring it one by one into the pot. "These Sun God energies are premium materials," the Master said, tying the pot with red silk and carrying it on her back with a cheerful smile. "You may present them gracefully to the Lady of San Dao Mountain, or request her to refine them into items. The only issue is that their energy is exceptionally powerful and cannot be sustained naturally over time—ordinary items cannot contain them, only the Immortal Pot can." I feel like a middle-aged man who's earned money only to have his wife manage it all… Zhang Yuanqing mused internally. Yet, her arguments were so sound that it was impossible to dispute them. He had truly secured the essence of life—reaped a substitute clay figure, ten beams of the Sun God's power—and now he was well off. These items would be retrieved from her whenever he needed them. Zhang Yuanqing thought this over, and his spirits lifted once again. Xiaohou Aotian narrowed his eyes, his keen sight piercing through the illusion and revealing the interior of the shop. ——The illusion at the shop entrance was merely extraordinary. When the levels differed significantly, even without any knowledge of illusions, he could discern the falsehood simply by sight. "This is it." Xiaohou Aotian produced a thin, delicate human skin mask, light as a cicada's wing, and gently placed it over his face. The loose skin immediately tightened and subtly distorted his facial contours, eventually settling into an ordinary, unremarkable appearance. Red Chicken Brother. "Red Chicken Brother, naturally unobtrusive wherever he goes, is born to be a supporting character," he said, satisfied, as he prepared to enter. Just as he stepped forward, he recalled that Red Chicken Brother had also once studied at Qin Feng Academy. So he quickly stroked the skin again, transforming his face once more. This time, it was Xiaohu Tianwen, who had died several months prior. The dead were the safest. As he prepared to enter the shop, he hesitated—though Xiaohu Tianwen was indeed deceased, he was still a member of the Xiaohu family. By disguising himself as him Thus, he vigorously rubbed his face, attempting to alter his appearance. Yet as he continued rubbing, he suddenly paused, wondering—into whose features could he transform? He seemed to have few friends. He never noticed this before, but when he needed to resemble someone with a familiar facial outline, he found himself utterly unable to recall even a few such people. Yuan Shi Tian Zun had recently been frequently seen in front of him, yet as a member of the distribution team, he could not use his own face—just as the other three members could not use theirs. While Xiu Hou Ao Tian was deeply pondering, a lazy female voice came from within the shop: "The guests outside, stop playing around—come in."