After two and a half weeks of intensive training, the Yamabuki Junior High School team had undergone a remarkable transformation. What had begun as a group of talented but relatively soft modern teenagers had evolved into a collection of lean, disciplined athletes whose physical conditioning now bordered on the superhuman.
On the pristine beach of Windmill Village, the entire team was engaged in their afternoon conditioning routine—shirtless push-ups timed to the rhythm of the incoming waves. As each wave crashed over them, they dropped to the sand, holding their position against the surge of water. When the wave receded, they pushed up in perfect synchronization, their movements now displaying a precision and power that would have been impossible just weeks earlier.
Himawari sat on a beach blanket nearby, clapping her tiny hands with unbridled delight at the display of so many attractive young men engaged in rigorous physical activity. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and even some of the village children had gathered to watch the daily training spectacle.
A short distance away, Yang Chan was engaged in an animated game with Shin-chan, Conan, and Ai. Despite being actual teenagers, Conan and Ai had become so accustomed to their child personas that they had naturally integrated into this age group, finding genuine enjoyment in the simple games and innocent conversations that filled their days on the ship.
"Ah, what a beautiful day!" Gustave sighed contentedly from his position in a comfortable deck chair, a cold drink in his hand as he observed the training with obvious satisfaction. There was something deeply pleasant about watching others work themselves to exhaustion while he relaxed in the shade.
"Chan'er!"
The familiar voice immediately drew Gustave's attention away from the exercising tennis players. Emerging from the Gate of All Worlds was a figure that was recognizably Yang Jian, but dramatically changed from the desperate, frightened boy who had first sought refuge on their ship.
Gone was the hunted, anxious teenager. In his place stood a young man whose very presence commanded attention. Yang Jian had grown taller and broader through his cultivation, but more striking was the fundamental change in his bearing. His posture spoke of absolute confidence, his movements carried natural grace and power, and his eyes held depths of knowledge that seemed almost ancient despite his youthful face.
There was something indefinably regal about him now—a hint of the divine authority he was destined to wield as the future Qingyuan Miaodao Zhenjun, the legendary Erlang Shen.
"Yang Jian!" Gustave called out, immediately rising from his chair to greet the returned cultivator.
"Brother," Yang Jian replied with a warm smile, though his eyes were immediately scanning the area for his sister. "It's good to see you again."
"Chan'er, look!" Gustave called to the group of playing children. "Your brother has returned!"
But when Yang Chan turned and saw Yang Jian approaching, her reaction was entirely unexpected. Instead of the joyful reunion Gustave had anticipated, the little girl's face filled with uncertainty, almost fear. She quickly moved to hide behind Ai, peering around her protector with obvious trepidation.
"Chan'er?" Gustave asked softly, confused by her behavior. During her months aboard the Bamboo Staff, Yang Chan had blossomed into a confident, cheerful child who laughed frequently and played freely with everyone. This sudden shyness was completely unlike her.
"Little Chan'er," Yang Jian said gently, extending his hand toward her with a hopeful smile. "Your second brother has come home."
But Yang Chan's response was to turn and run directly to Po, wrapping her small arms around the panda's large leg and pressing her face against his fur. Po immediately lifted her into a protective embrace, his gentle eyes showing understanding and concern.
"Brother," Gustave said quietly, trying to ease the obvious pain in Yang Jian's expression, "perhaps Chan'er just needs time to adjust. She hasn't seen you for many months—she might be feeling shy around someone who seems so different from when you left."
Indeed, the transformation in Yang Jian was so complete that he might well seem like a stranger to a young child's eyes. Where once stood a desperate, vulnerable teenager, now stood someone who radiated power and authority that was almost otherworldly.
"Of course," Yang Jian replied, forcing a smile though his disappointment was clear. "I understand completely."
"Why don't we visit Master first?" Gustave suggested, hoping to give both siblings time to process the situation. "He's upstairs, and I know he'll want to see you."
Yang Jian nodded gratefully. The Moral Lord's presence here was unusual—during his time at the Bajing Palace, the true body of his master had appeared to him only once, during the formal discipleship ceremony. Most of his instruction had come from Senior Brother Xuandu, as the Moral Lord typically spent his time in cultivation beyond the Nine Heavens.
Gustave led Yang Jian up to the fourth floor, where the Moral Lord had established his private quarters. The room had been specially modified with gaming equipment, high-speed internet connections, and comfortable furniture that seemed oddly anachronistic next to the ancient sage who occupied it.
Knock knock knock.
Gustave rapped politely on the door, then waited for a response. When none came after several moments, he exchanged a knowing look with Yang Jian.
"Is Master traveling again?" Yang Jian asked, assuming the sage was engaged in one of his cosmic wanderings.
"He just returned from exploring some distant galaxy a few days ago," Gustave explained with barely concealed amusement. "Had lunch with us this morning, actually. He's probably playing video games with his headphones on and can't hear us."
"Playing... games?" Yang Jian looked puzzled by this concept.
Gustave pushed open the door, and immediately the room filled with an angry voice that definitely belonged to Laozi, though the tone was unlike anything Yang Jian had ever heard from his venerable master.
"Come on, come on! I've got them pinned down—why aren't you pushing?!"
"You absolute noob! How do you lose a two-v-one?!"
Yang Jian's eyes widened in shock. This cursing, frustrated voice belonged to one of the Three Pure Ones? One of the most revered sages in all existence?
Gustave slapped his forehead in resignation. The Moral Lord was playing PUBG again. While the ancient sage remained perfectly dignified during single-player console games, the moment he engaged in competitive online multiplayer—whether PUBG or League of Legends—his personality underwent a complete transformation into that of a typical frustrated gamer.
"You're the worst teammate I've ever had the misfortune to be matched with!" the Moral Lord continued his tirade, apparently addressing his hapless online partners. "I've seen potatoes with better tactical awareness!"
When the game session finally ended, the Moral Lord suddenly noticed that his door had been opened. He turned to see Gustave standing there with an embarrassed expression, and beside him...
"Ahem, ahem," the Moral Lord cleared his throat quickly, removing his gaming headset with as much dignity as he could muster. "Qingyuan, you have returned."
"Qingyuan pays respects to Master," Yang Jian said formally, executing a perfect bow and choosing to completely ignore what he had just witnessed.
"Qingyuan?" Gustave interrupted, intrigued. "That's your Taoist name? When did Master give you that title?"
"The Taoist name Qingyuan was bestowed by my true body," the Moral Lord explained, his composure now fully restored. "It reflects his achievements and future destiny."
"In that case, Master, perhaps you could grant me a Taoist name as well?" Gustave suggested hopefully, seeing an opportunity to advance his own status.
"When your strength reaches the pinnacle of this world," the Moral Lord replied firmly, having learned through long experience to resist Gustave's various attempts at taking shortcuts, "I will formally transmit cultivation techniques to you and bestow an appropriate name. Not before."
"Understood, Master," Gustave said with obvious disappointment.
"By the way, Brother," Gustave continued, his curiosity overriding his dejection, "what level have you reached in your cultivation? How strong are you now?"
"I achieved the realm of True Immortal not long ago," Yang Jian replied. "Once my foundation stabilized, I decided to visit Chan'er before continuing my training."
"True Immortal?!" Gustave stared at him in amazement. "You've actually cultivated from a mortal to an immortal in less than a year? That's... that's incredible!"
"Becoming an immortal is merely the first step on the long road of cultivation," Yang Jian replied with a slight shake of his head. "There remains much to accomplish. Only when I reach the Taiyi (Supreme Unity) realm will I have genuine hope of rescuing my mother from the Heavenly Court's prison."
The weight of his mission was evident in his voice. Time was passing inexorably—nearly one year had elapsed from his three-year agreement, and he had only just achieved immortality. The higher realms of cultivation required exponentially more time and effort. Even with the accelerated Method of Love and Hate, reaching Taiyi within the remaining time seemed daunting.
Worse, his ultimate enemy was the Emperor of Heaven himself—the supreme ruler below only the Saints, commanding power that mortals could barely comprehend. Without Yang Chan's presence to motivate this brief visit, Yang Jian would likely still be in intensive training.
"But how strong are you actually in practical terms?" Gustave pressed, fascinated by the power scaling of cultivation worlds.
"In terms of raw strength, I'm uncertain," Yang Jian admitted thoughtfully. "However, Senior Brother Xuandu informed me that practitioners of the Method of Love and Hate possess combat power significantly above their apparent realm due to the technique's unique characteristics."
He turned to bow respectfully toward the Moral Lord. "Master has also promised to bestow a treasure upon me when I reach the Taiyi realm, which should greatly enhance my power."
"Indeed," the Moral Lord nodded approvingly. "With the treasure I have prepared, you will be able to contend with ordinary Daluo-level opponents despite being only at the Taiyi realm."
"Master, treasures can provide such enormous enhancement?" Gustave asked in surprise, accustomed as he was to relying primarily on his natural abilities and Devil Fruit powers.
"In this world, treasures cannot manifest their full potential due to the different universal laws," the Moral Lord explained patiently. "However, in the primordial chaos of our realm, a superior treasure can increase one's combat effectiveness by thousands or even tens of thousands of times. Even for Saints such as myself, proper treasures provide invaluable advantages."
He paused, considering an appropriate example. "Take Zhang Zhiwei, for instance. With his mastery of the Four Execution Swords and the Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation, his strength reaches such terrifying heights that, according to legend, it once required the combined might of the Four Saints themselves to break through his formation."
The Moral Lord did not mention, of course, that he personally could dismantle the Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation single-handedly. Unlike the other Saints who had achieved their status through the Heavenly Dao's recognition, he had attained Sainthood through the ancient method of killing the Three Corpses, combined with his unique ability to manifest all three simultaneously with power equal to his true body. Apart from Hongjun, who had transcended to Dao itself, even all the other Saints combined would struggle against the Moral Lord's true capabilities.
But such was his philosophy of natural non-action and humble discretion. Unless circumstances forced him to reveal his strength, others would simply assume he was another Heavenly Dao Saint rather than recognizing his true transcendent status.