Myth Beyond Heaven

Yun Wushuang’s breath hitched as she watched the visions unfold. “This… this is the past?”

“The true past,” Yun Tianming confirmed. “The one Nian Shi concealed.”

The scenes showed the thirteen Primordial Gods in their prime, governing creation in harmony—until Nian Shi, the God of Time, made his move.

Yun Wuhan’s expression darkened as he watched the Creator’s final moments. “He killed her.”

Yun Tianming shook his head. “She allowed it.”

Yun Wushuang stiffened. “What?”

“The Creator foresaw her death,” Yun Tianming explained. “But she also saw beyond it—to a greater threat. Yin, the Chasm of Uncreation.”

The visions shifted, revealing a being of pure void, an existence that rivaled the Creator herself.

“Nian Shi’s ambition was merely a tool,” Yun Tianming continued. “The Creator used his betrayal as an opportunity—to create the conditions needed to defeat Yin.”

Yun Wushuang’s hands trembled. “So everything… the war, the fractured timelines… it was all part of her plan?”

Yun Tianming nodded. “Including your son.”

Yun Wuhan’s eyes sharpened. “Lintian?”

“Yun Lintian is the variable she foresaw,” Yun Tianming said. “A being born outside fate’s design. Nian Shi cannot predict him.” He paused. “But only if he obtains the power.”

“What power?” Yun Wuhan quickly asked.

“The power of the Creator.” Yun Tianming replied calmly.

Yun Wuhan and Yun Wushuang stood frozen in shock, their eyes locked onto Yun Tianming’s fading remnant. The revelation that the Creator herself had foreseen their son’s fate—that Yun Lintian was meant to inherit her power—sent tremors through their divine souls.

In the white space where Long Xi and the others observed, Long Xi suddenly spoke up, her draconic eyes narrowing.

“Wait.” She turned to the spectral Yun Wuhan. “Didn’t you just tell us earlier that the Creator didn’t specifically foresee Yun Lintian? That it could have been anyone?”

The spectral Yun Wuhan nodded slowly. “That is correct.”

“Then why did Yun Tianming say—”

“Because he knew we wouldn’t believe him if he claimed it was his own plan,” Yun Wuhan interrupted calmly. “By invoking the Creator’s name, he ensured we would take it seriously.”

A beat of silence passed.

“…And it worked,” Nantian Fengyu muttered.

The group turned their attention back to the unfolding memory.

Yun Wushuang’s hands clenched into fists, her emerald eyes flashing with maternal protectiveness. “You’re saying… my son must confront both Nian Shi and Yin in the future?”

Yun Tianming didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he posed a question of his own.

“Did you not already anticipate this the moment you decided to have him?”

The words struck like a blade.

Yun Wuhan and Yun Wushuang fell silent.

Of course, they had known. From the beginning, they understood that Yun Lintian’s existence was a defiance of fate—a hidden variable meant to disrupt Nian Shi’s grand design. But deep down, a part of them had hoped…

Maybe he could hide forever.

Maybe Nian Shi would never find him.

Maybe their son could live free of this burden.

But now, faced with Yun Tianming’s calm gaze, they realized the truth—there was no avoiding destiny.

Yun Wuhan’s voice was low, strained. “I don’t want my son to carry this.”

Yun Tianming said nothing. He didn’t need to. The weight of inevitability pressed down on them, undeniable.

Yun Wushuang took a deep breath, her fingers trembling before stilling. “…What must he do?”

“No,” she shook her head and changed the question. “What can we do to help our son bear this fate?”

Yun Tianming’s spectral form flickered before raising his hand. Suddenly, the thirteen paintings lining the chamber walls glowed, and beams of light shot forth, converging into a single, radiant sphere above his palm.

The moment the light appeared, the entire tower trembled. The air itself seemed to bow under its weight, as if acknowledging something beyond mortal comprehension.

“This,” Yun Tianming said solemnly, “is the remnant power the Creator left for Yun Lintian.”

Yun Wushuang and Yun Wuhan stared at the swirling mass of energy, their divine senses recoiling at its sheer magnitude. Even diluted, it carried the essence of the being who had forged existence itself.

“It will allow him to absorb the Creator’s power,” Yun Tianming continued. “Or more precisely… any power in this universe.”

Nantian Fengyu suddenly spoke up. “The Beyond Heaven Profound Vein.”

The spectral Yun Wuhan nodded. “Correct. In fact, its true names should be the Profound Vein of All Creation.”

The scene continued to play.

“However, we cannot give this to Yun Lintian directly,” Yun Tianming explained. “Nian Shi would notice it. Instead…”

He turned his gaze toward the painting of the God of Fate—his own image.

“…We will use my inheritor as the conduit.”

Yun Wuhan’s eyes narrowed. “Your inheritor?”

Yun Tianming nodded. “Nian Shi has one fatal flaw—not just him but all of us. He cannot fully absorb the power of other Primordial Gods. At most, he can refine ten percent of their essence.”

He paused for a moment and continued. “He is spending his time finding the answer right now.”

“Why must it be your inheritor?” Yun Wuhan asked in doubt.

Yun Tianming looked at him and said. “We need a distraction. Nian Shi knows that I should hold some secrets about the Creator as I am the only one who can figure out the truth behind the scene where Nian Shi killed the Creator.”

“However,” he spoke further. “When I died, he couldn’t find anything about it. As long as my inheritor appears, he will certainly pay attention to him. We can use this chance to allow Yun Lintian to grow outside Nian Shi’s radar.”

Yun Wuhan and Yun Wushuang quickly understood Yun Tianming’s plan. Basically, he was going to use his inheritor as a bait to buy time for Yun Lintian.

At this point, Long Niu suddenly spoke up in the white space, her brow furrowed.

“But wait—why is Big Brother Yun the only one who can use the profound vein while Senior Yun Tian couldn’t wield it fully?”

The spectral Yun Wuhan turned to her. “A strange coincidence… or perhaps fate.”

He gestured to the memory, where Yun Wushuang stood with a hand pressed against her abdomen—the same place where Yun Lintian had once grown.

“When Wushuang obtained the remnant of the Seed of Time from the World Tree, a trace of the Creator’s power fused with her essence. That power… passed to Yun Lintian at birth.”

A murmur rippled through the group.

“So he was born compatible?” Long Qingxuan whispered.

The spectral Yun Wuhan nodded. “Precisely… In fact, I believe that it was Yun Tianming who secretly arranged this.”