A sensation like a river pouring forth, the passage of time surged toward him, and Ning Cheng almost failed to contain his own Dao Rhyme from joining this transient flow. Fortunately, he steadied his mind in time, unshaken despite the successive impacts of the years as they washed over him like rings in a tree.
No matter how swiftly time flies like an arrow, or years pass like a shuttle through a loom, they are merely traces within the rules of time. His sunset twilight too was a trace within those rules, differing only in depth and the hierarchies of the rules themselves.
Why settle for the ninth ring of annals? Why not proceed further?
...
In the vast expanse of the square, Qiutian sat alone on the ground, seemingly merging with the space around him, undisturbed by any ripples.
"Qiutian Brother of the Dao..." Jin Molong's voice interrupted Qiutian's meditation. Qiutian stood up suddenly, his eyes emitting twin beams of sharp light.
