Putian, Lady Mother’s Temple. The imperial canonization ceremony had reached its grand finale.
The solemn ritual was down to its last steps. Emperor Richard Song held a ridiculously oversized scroll of imperial edicts—so big and wide, it looked like it could double as a picnic blanket. The thing weighed a ton, and after holding it for so long, his hands were shaking. But he flat-out refused to let any eunuch help. No way—he insisted on handling everything himself. At last, after a booming recitation, he finally finished the last line.
From this moment on, Lady Mother wasn’t just some wild mountain deity worshipped by random villagers. Nope—she was officially recognized by the entire Song Dynasty, and now she could count on the full power of the state to spread her fame. Her new title: Lady Mazu, Celestial Consort. (Fun fact: In real history, Emperor Richard Song really did canonize Lin Mo as Lady Mazu this very year!)
A eunuch brought up a jade box, and the regent minister presented the imperial seal. Emperor Richard Song grabbed the seal and, with a theatrical flourish, stamped it down on the edict. Thud—a muffled sound echoed. The deification was now official.
Just then, a gasp shot up from the kneeling crowd. Heads snapped up, and suddenly everyone was shouting in chaos. From the depths of the sea, a beam of light shot straight into the sky, churning up the clouds above. The light looked thin from a distance, but it was still jaw-dropping. The air was thick with an overwhelming pressure. Waves crashed, the wind howled, storm clouds rolled and thunder boomed.
Against the backdrop of this godly spectacle, Lady Mother’s statue—no, Lady Mazu’s statue—stood tall by the sea. Countless worshippers dropped to their knees, praying with all their hearts. The timing was so perfect, nobody doubted for a second that the emperor’s ritual had caused the whole thing. The shamans jumped right in, dancing and chanting mysterious gibberish, making the whole scene even more mystical.
Later on, people would say this was Lady Mazu receiving her heavenly mandate—she’d totally wiped out the evil sea gods and become the ocean’s new guardian. From now on, no more offerings to the Dragon King—just pray to Lady Mazu and you’re good to go.
But what the average person didn’t know was: all the energy and mystical power gathering at the Sacred Womb was flowing right through the golden gateway and into Jill Young herself. As the energy poured in, dragon-shaped auras shimmered around her. The phantom dragon force was growing stronger and more intense by the second.
Amid the blinding light, floating in a void with nothing to hold onto, Jill Young’s mind drifted. It was like she’d left her little body behind, her spirit merging with a giant, mysterious tree. As the crimson light spread, so did her consciousness. It was like deep meditation, but this time she wasn’t gazing inward—she was connecting with some ancient concept woven into the very rules of the universe.
She could feel it—the tree’s roots were vast and deep, way beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. Compared to what was above ground, the real deal was all hidden below. Actually, it wasn’t really a tree at all—it was pure root, fused with the earth itself, embodying permanence and strength.
The physical body is the foundation—the soil and the roots for cultivation. When Jill Young sensed the shape of those roots, she was totally blown away. No fancy symbols or annotations needed; those roots were a monument in themselves, a guiding beacon for anyone who’s mastered the art of the body, showing the path ahead.
Suddenly, Jill got it—she finally understood what that nagging limitation was all about.
Mastery is both the starting line and the finish line.
It’s like those legendary martial arts masters—they reach insane heights in their craft. But the road ahead is even longer and wider than the path they’ve already traveled. Every step forward is a massive leap. Especially when you hit the Boundless Realm—over 140 years of cultivation—that’s a territory so wide, you could spend your whole life and never reach the end.
Boundless means no limits. Not truly limitless, but so far out of reach that it might as well be. You know that old saying, ‘the sea of suffering is endless’? It’s not actually endless, but you’ll never get across it, so for you, it’s infinite. Even someone as gifted as Xu Zhu only made it to 143 years.
Same goes for the physical body.
Take Dragon Elephant Power, for example—mastery is called ‘ten dragons, ten elephants.’ That’s not just a random number; it marks a real level. Ten elephant’s strength fuses into one dragon, and that’s where body mastery begins. But even the most gifted folks can’t reach ten dragons, because life is short and 150 years isn’t enough to walk that whole path.
Achieving mastery isn’t the end.
Let’s put it this way—before enlightenment, you’re like a clueless kid splashing in the river. After enlightenment, you’re like Master Xuanzang, your name spreading far and wide. Once you reach King level, it’s like being crowned the Emperor’s brother and sent off from Chang’an. After surviving a bunch of disasters, you finally reach Five Elements Mountain. When Buddha’s seal comes off—boom!—the world shakes. That’s mastery.
After mastery, you’re awesome—like Tang Monk with Wukong by his side. But it’s not all sunshine and rainbows, because there are plenty more trials ahead. The road stretches on—maybe you’ll never reach the end. So really, this is just the beginning of the martial path.
But at the same time, you could call it the end of the martial path, too.
Because once you’ve reached mastery, you can see the finish line way off in the distance—the ultimate limit. At first, it might not hit you, but the further you go, the clearer it gets. You’ll realize: even if you cross the entire sea of suffering, you’ll never actually reach the other shore. Even if you walk eighty thousand miles, you’ll never set foot on Spirit Mountain.
When you finally start moving forward, you see the road ahead has already run out. That’s the 150-year wall. So yeah, this is also where the martial path ends.
If I had to sum it up with a goofy modern poem, it’d go something like this—
You’re walking on the open plain,
Vast and endless, wild and strange,
Who knows where the treasure’s stashed?
But the plain is boundless, your heart is boundless—sky’s the limit, sea’s the playground.
But when you climb up for a better look,
You suddenly find—
There’s a wall at the edge of the sky.
Even though you know you’ll probably never get there,
Even though you know the plain is wide as can be,
Suddenly,
You feel a pang of defeat.
Turns out you’re just
A caged bird, a pond fish, the king of beasts in a zoo.
What a hopeless feeling,
What a wild, restless frenzy,
It’s like searching foreign websites—
The result:
404-not-found
—And you’re not even allowed to use a VPN.
It’s all tongue-in-cheek, but every master who reaches this level gets that nagging feeling. Especially those who try to break through and hit the Boundless Realm. The 150-year wall—something you never worried about before—now pops up everywhere, blocking your way. You can’t dodge it, can’t escape it, and you feel it every single moment.
It’s like if you’ve mastered Dragon Power in your body—you just can’t get another one.
Yep, you read that right. If you’ve got one Dragon Power, you’re called a True Body—no leaks, no flaws. You’ve hit a ceiling, and honestly, it’s almost impossible to get any stronger. It’s a cosmic limit, just like how Muscle-Tendon Change tops out at one Dragon Power. Take King Golden Wheel, a genius in Dragon Elephant Power—even if he hadn’t died in battle, getting just one Dragon Power in his life would be a miracle. No way to go higher.
Jill Young’s a total anomaly—endless resources, wild adventures, even survived the Fire Body ordeal. She’s got one Dragon Power and even managed to raise a phantom dragon. But in the vast river of time and the endless worlds, there are plenty of oddballs who find ways to bend the rules.
But bending the rules isn’t a true breakthrough—it’s just a workaround. A phantom dragon is still just a phantom; it’ll never become a real dragon, and it’ll never fuse with your Dragon Power.
You can walk the Body Pill path, but you’ll never truly become a Body Pill master. That’s the limit of the flesh.
But after learning all this, Jill Young was full of questions. She’d seen real Body Pill masters with her own eyes—whether it was the Ultimate Creation or Emperor Black Death, they were the real deal, no discounts. Heck, she even had a few Body Pills tucked away in her own storage space. The facts didn’t match up with what she’d just learned.
So, does that mean you can never reach Emperor Black Death’s level?
Isn’t that just ridiculous?
And then, in that crimson pillar of light, Jill Young ‘saw’ a path. It was tough and full of hardship, but it was a path of hope—a chance to break through the great limit. As the radiant light shot sky-high, Jill’s spirit soared with it, straight into the endless heavens. She suddenly understood: those massive roots really were a monument—a ‘Great Limit Monument.’
And this Great Limit Monument wasn’t the only one—besides the one for body mastery, there were others for different types of mastery, too.
As the crimson light erupted, everyone holding a Storm Stone felt a mysterious summons in their bones. In an instant, their minds flew across mountains and rivers, sensing a far-off, mystical place. They knew—the next Great Limit Monument was out there somewhere.
Out in the endless desert, in an ancient city, an old man with a white turban slowly opened his eyes in front of a massive wall covered in mysterious symbols. For a moment, the patterns glowed softly, then faded away.
“Not yet, but it won’t be long now.”
On Mystic Isle, under the blazing crimson light, Jill Young’s phantom dragon power was shaping up fast. The Sacred Womb’s energy fed it, the red glow sped it up, and the phantom dragon shot from forty percent to eighty, ninety—racing toward full form. As it solidified, a terrifying pressure spread out, the sense of absolute power nearly doubled.
And that’s not all—wild energy flooded into her veins. Supreme Art burned like fire, gobbling up energy and growing stronger. But the energy poured in so fast, so much, she was practically stuffed—couldn’t absorb it all. It was like force-feeding; energy kept piling up, compressing into lumps. For regular folks, that much energy would blow them up! Luckily, her master-level body held out, right up until it hit max capacity.
When the crimson light finally blasted into the clouds, shaking the whole universe, a flash of gold appeared—a side profile shimmered, resonating with the void.
It’s time to head back.
But Jill Young, dazed and exhausted, suddenly clenched her teeth and pushed back hard. No way, I can’t leave yet, and I can’t just sink deeper into enlightenment. I’ve still got things to do—friends waiting for help. I can’t leave!
Vrrrrm—space trembled, and the side profile responded to her will, fighting back with all its might. Just like when she resisted the void storm, a flood of mental power poured out, making her dizzy and spaced out. But Jill gritted her teeth, and—snap!—her eyes flew open. She felt a nagging worry and unease. No way she was leaving until everything was settled!
“Jiao Niang!” Jill Young shot up, ready for action. “I’m back!”
But as the rumbling and shaking continued, a thick cloud of smoke drifted in from outside. No shouting, no killing intent—just total silence. Footsteps echoed, the fog cleared, and Jiao Niang strolled over like a carefree schoolgirl, hands behind her back, nose scrunching cutely at Jill Young. “You’re late. I’ve already handled everything.”
“Handled it?” Jill didn’t smile right away. Instead, she hesitated and looked Jiao Niang up and down. “Your energy’s kind of… weird.”
“Unstable, right? Of course it is—just had a breakthrough in the middle of a fight. I need some time to settle in and get used to it.”
“So you broke through, huh…” Jill Young’s mind was fading fast—her spirit drained, the tree roots still messing with her. But she forced her eyes open and mumbled, “Get out of here, quick. This island’s about to sink… and, really… are you sure you’re okay…?”
Jiao Niang answered without missing a beat: “I’m fine.”
“Then I can finally… relax…” Jill’s energy was totally spent—she couldn’t hold on any longer and collapsed to the ground.
Jiao Niang caught her in a full-body hug—but not with her hands, just her arms. That’s when Jill noticed Jiao Niang’s hands were wrapped in layers of white cloth, like she was hiding something. It looked seriously off.
A strange red line of blood snaked out from Jiao Niang’s wrist, slipping under her pale skin and vanishing. But her smile stayed bright as ever. She whispered to the unconscious Jill Young, “As long as you’re okay, everything’s okay. The future’s in your hands now.”
On Jing Mountain, Guo Shoujing suddenly laughed. “White Tiger’s about to fall from the stars.”