Half a star-year ago, Andrew Han left the Chenriver Realm. Now, as he returns and meets Zhen Gu and Suweng for the first time, his green robe is unchanged, his expression calm as ever—but his opening words are nothing short of domineering.
"I'll talk to their emperor later."
Just such a simple sentence.
Spoken in a plain, unremarkable tone.
Yet whether it was Emperor Zhen Gu, Suweng, or the upper echelons of the Chenriver Empire, all were stunned.
Sometimes, a person's true strength is revealed in the details—the way one conducts oneself proves everything.
"Chenriver above all."
The emperor's pale golden eyes flickered with a barely noticeable hint of surprise—he almost let his thoughts run wild, but in an instant he reined them in, showing no sign of emotion.
"Within the Human Supreme Hall, all esteemed Geniuses are formally addressed as Highness."
"And among Highnesses, there are three ranks: Standard, Primordial, and Primeval. As far as I know, Andrew Han is a Primordial Highness—he shouldn't have the authority to command an emperor of an empire." The emperor’s mind raced, but he kept his composure as he greeted Andrew Han.
Suweng was the same.
Truthfully, Suweng knew little of such matters.
After all, his talent had collapsed; he simply hadn’t been exposed to many things. He knew of the honor held by Geniuses, but not that Supreme Hall Geniuses were also divided into ranks.
Outside the Imperial Star’s atmosphere, countless people stood respectfully, hands at their sides.
Only Zhen Gu and Suweng stepped forward to greet Andrew Han. Immediately, Suweng sighed with emotion: "Highness Andrew Han. In just half a star-year, you’ve already reached Stellar Palace Tier."
"It's nothing special," Andrew Han replied with a smile.
Stellar Palace Tier is by no means the end.
When he advanced to Stellar Palace Tier, his Consciousness Nodes officially broke through the ten-thousand mark. This signified a major threshold for Genius ranking—Andrew Han was no longer a Primordial-tier Genius, but a Primeval-tier Genius.
Of course.
The Supreme Hall had yet to formally acknowledge this.
So when this vacation ends, Andrew Han plans to return to the Archaic Hall’s Spark-Heritage Zone, immediately challenge the Flame-Heritage Mountains, and directly ascend into the Primeval Gate to receive even better cultivation and training.
There’s no point in hiding or concealing anything anymore.
To be within the Human Supreme Hall is to give your all—and enjoy the treatment you deserve.
But Suweng was unaware of these matters.
He stepped up to Andrew Han, examined him carefully, and kindly advised, “My personal suggestion is that you take future breakthroughs as steadily and smoothly as possible. Never rush for momentary satisfaction; first consolidate your realm, stabilize it, and only then advance again. Otherwise, a mistake in between could cost you dearly.”
“Mm, that’s certainly true,” Andrew Han replied, his expression shifting slightly.
He naturally understood: Suweng’s reminder came from the bitter experience of making a grave mistake during his own breakthrough years ago.
Long ago, Suweng became a Starlight-tier Standard Genius within a Cosmic Ancient Kingdom.
Just before joining the Archaic Hall, he believed a baseless rumor that entering the Hall at Stellar Palace Tier would grant a higher starting point. For various reasons, Suweng rushed to break through to Stellar Palace Tier—only to make a major error, lose his Genius rank, and become unable to ever reach Void Rift Tier.
If a mistake occurs during breakthrough, the consequences can be unimaginable.
For example, advancing from Starlight Tier to Stellar Palace Tier means a leap in life level—from semi-energized to fully transparent energy. If something goes wrong midway, the resulting defect in one’s realm is a fundamental flaw in life essence, one that even the Supreme Existences of the Human Race cannot reverse.
Thinking of this,
Andrew Han nodded. “I’ll be careful in the future.”
“Sigh.”
Suweng let out a long, rueful sigh and said no more.
At this moment, witnessing Andrew Han’s calm confidence—the courage to face the entire starry sky—
He couldn’t help but recall the past, feeling increasingly wistful, increasingly regretful, and, by contrast, a complex sense of loss welling up inside.
Just imagine...
If only his talent hadn’t collapsed...
Would he still be forced to shrink back within the Chenriver Empire? Might he not have lived as freely as Andrew Han does now...? Suweng didn’t know. Even if his talent had remained, at best he would have been a Standard Genius.