Outside Of Time

1783  The Tenth Extremity!

The path to comprehending the Tenth Extremity was destined to be arduous and fraught with obstacles.

Even for Xu Qing, who had pondered it deeply throughout his journey—who had experienced multiple epiphanies and even witnessed the comprehensions of Immortal Lord Mi Ming—none of these could serve as a direct blueprint. They could only be references, not choices.

Because his Ordinanceʼs bloom had to be nourished by his own experiences to give rise to a Law uniquely his own.

”This is the process of an Ordinance birthing a Law…”

Xu Qing murmured, his lifted foot hovering mid-air, not yet taking that step.

He was contemplating.

Contemplating whether his preparations were truly complete.

”The Five Elements as the foundation, time and space superimposed to form spacetime… Then, through this turbulence, I confirmed my spacetime was incomplete—realizing that right and wrong are one, that only together do they constitute true spacetime.”

”With this, the foundational Ordinance of spacetime is finally whole.”

”Next…”

”If complete spacetime is regarded as a single point, then…”

Xu Qing lifted his head, and his foot abruptly descended.

The moment it touched the void, his Ninth Extremity—transcending spacetime—resonated like a divine chant, reverberating through the spacetime turbulence.

”Overlapping universes.”

These words seemed to carry an arcane power, tugging at Xu Qingʼs consciousness, expanding endlessly as if he were on the verge of touching the most deep and mysterious truths of existence.

In an instant, the void before him transformed. It was as if he had ascended infinitely, while the spacetime turbulence he had been standing in shrank infinitely.

Until, in Xu Qingʼs perception, spacetime became a single point.

Within this point lay all the information contained in his Space-Time Ordinance.

And outside this point… Xu Qingʼs awareness suddenly detected more points forming.

More and more, densely packed, until they filled his entire field of vision.

Countless flickering points of light.

Each radiated dense spacetime energy, each seemingly containing a world, a spacetime, the trajectories of all living beings within it.

Carrying the joys and sorrows of countless lives, weaving together the disparate paths of all.

This was the Ninth Extremity Xu Qing had once comprehended—

Overlapping universes!

However, this Ordinance had been limited in its power until he reached the peak of Quasi Immortal. Only now, as a Quasi Immortal at the Great Perfection stage, could Xu Qing fully manifest it.

And so, Xu Qing gazed upon these points of light.

Within them, he saw countless versions of himself, countless different lives.

Like scrolls of alternate destinies, unfurling before his eyes.

In one scroll, there was a scholar.

Clad in a moon-white robe, a scholarly cap upon his head, he held an ancient tome as he paced through an elegant courtyard.

The courtyard was lush with flowers, their fragrance lingering, yet a faint melancholy lingered between the scholarʼs brows—as if wrestling with the obscure philosophies in his book, or lamenting the lofty ambitions yet unfulfilled.

Occasionally, he would sit at a stone table, dipping his brush in ink, his calligraphy delicate yet resolute. Each stroke seemed to etch his relentless pursuit of knowledge.

Unaware that, beyond spacetime, another version of himself was watching.

…

In another spacetime, there was a swordsman.

A bamboo hat shaded his face, his black martial attire fitted snugly, a longsword hanging at his waist—its scabbard engraved with archaic, mysterious patterns.

He strode down an official road, his posture straight as a pine, each step exuding an air of untamed freedom.

When bandits barred his path, the swordsman merely drew his blade—a flash of cold light, and the ruffians fell.

Sheathing his sword without pause, he continued onward.

Under the setting sun, his silhouette stretched long across the earth, as if carrying infinite tales—a life of chivalry and vengeance, of passion and righteousness.

Until the sun dipped below the horizon.

…

Beyond spacetime, Xu Qing withdrew his gaze.

In the silence, his eyes deepened as he continued studying the other scrolls.

As if peering through them to glimpse the river of time, to discern the fabric of parallel existences.

And so, he saw craftsmen, officials, butchers, bandits, children, and elders.

The myriad faces of life.

In a humble clinic, he carefully took the pulse of the injured, sometimes frowning in thought, other times offering comforting smiles.

Skillful hands prepared herbs—brewing tonics, grinding powders—all to alleviate suffering.

Occasionally, he would shoulder his medicine chest and walk through the streets, his gentle demeanor patient with every plea for help.

With his art, he guarded the health of this small corner of the world.

A simple life, yet profound.

…

One version after another, one life after another.

Some similar, some vastly different.

Like seeds of the same origin, blooming into flowers alike and unalike under varying nurtures.

Xu Qing watched quietly, until gradually, understanding dawned in his eyes.

”I was wrong before…”

”My Ordinance stems from my perceptions, yet is also confined by them.”

”In the past, when pursuing this Ninth Extremity, I fixated only on the path of a cultivator—the one I knew.”

”Thus, the spacetimes I saw were all of cultivators.”

”In truth, they were merely projections of my imagination—false parallels.”

”But true parallels, true overlapping universes, are what I now see after completing spacetime and parting the fog with this turbulence…”

”The myriad faces of life.”

”Each life carries its own flavor, its own joys and sorrows, its own unique trajectory…”

Xu Qing murmured.

This was the true form of his Ninth Extremity—Overlapping universes.

A grand tapestry woven from countless choices, countless possibilities, countless twists of fate.

”A pity… I cannot yet fully influence it.”

Xu Qing closed his eyes, speaking softly.

”Seeing and acting upon it are two separate stages. These innumerable parallel spacetimes—I now only possess the qualification to see. To intervene… there is little I can do.”

”Unless I resort to my old methods, but those are minor tricks… like obscuring oneʼs vision with a leaf.”

”Whereas seeing… is a manifestation of walking the great Dao of the Ordinance.”

Xu Qing pondered.

”Then, is my Tenth Extremity the step from seeing to acting?”

He pondered.

He still had doubts, not yet fully enlightened.

After a long while, Xu Qing opened his eyes.

”Acting still falls within the scope of the Ninth Extremity—at most, a half-step into the Tenth, not a true transcendence…”

He shook his head. This fell short of what he envisioned for the Tenth Extremity.

And so, Xu Qing continued gazing at the scrolls, observing the different versions of himself.

Time passed indeterminably.

Until, in one scroll, he saw another self—one that stood out.

A painter.

In that spacetime, the painter had created many works—elegant portraits of ladies, majestic landscapes, lifelike depictions of birds and beasts. He was renowned.

For a long time, he stared at that paper. Then, he lifted his brush and drew a single stroke.

When the brush stilled, Xu Qing—watching from beyond spacetime—felt his mind tremble.

”Return to one!”

”This is Return to One!”

”The Tenth Extremity… is Return to One!”

In Xu Qingʼs eyes, a light unlike any before erupted, and all the fog in his mind vanished in that instant.

”Now, the question is… how to Return to One!”

Xu Qing looked at the countless scrolls before him, at the innumerable versions of himself. In truth, he already had an answer.

”Make every version of me across all spacetimes conceive the thought of Return to One.”

”Use this thought as a thread to connect all the spacetime selves!”

”Thus, gathering all thoughts of Return to One, unifying consciousness across all parallels!”

”As for how to achieve this…”

Xu Qing narrowed his eyes. The greatest obstacle now was the incompleteness of his Ninth Extremity.

Though he could see, he could not fully control.

”I can only influence a small portion.”

And influencing only a fraction would make it nearly impossible to make every version of himself conceive the thought of Return to One.

The spacetimes were too numerous, the lives too varied—different selves would generate endless divergent thoughts, making unity of consciousness unfeasible.

It required complete mastery over parallel forces.

A sharp glint flashed in Xu Qingʼs eyes.

”There is still one shortcut…”

”The God of Pain.”

Suddenly, Xu Qing lifted his hand. From within his immortal embryo, from the palace inside it, he extracted the coffin where he had sealed the God of Pain.

Placing it before him, ripples spread in all directions. Without hesitation, Xu Qing pressed his palm onto the coffin.

As it trembled, his consciousness violently surged inside, forcibly merging with the nearly extinguished god within.

Taking partial control.

With this done, a peculiar light gleamed in Xu Qingʼs eyes.

His plan was to borrow the God of Painʼs divine authority to weave an illusion for every version of himself across all spacetimes.

Tailored to each life, each experience, each obsession—crafting unique illusions.

Ultimately, every version of himself would, within their illusions, immerse themselves just as he once had—unable to distinguish reality from falsehood.

And what he needed was to leave the same exit in every illusion—

The exit would be the gradual emergence of the thought of Return to One.

In this way, he could circumvent the limitations, achieving his goal.

Making every version of himself conceive the thought of Return to One.

Illusions, by nature, were confined to the mind—mere dreams, unable to affect reality.

But this illusion… contained truth!