Chaos Dao Sheng Jue

As Lu Chen and Fang Xinyi officially stepped into the core area of ​​the Nirvana Forbidden Land.

Behind them, in the mist of the Abyss of Reincarnation, a silver-gray phantom quietly emerged.

A-Yue watched their retreating figures and sighed softly:

"Finally... it has come to this..."

"So... what will you choose next?"

After she finished speaking, her figure slowly disappeared, as if she had never existed.

On the other side, the mist of the Abyss of Reincarnation still clung to them as if it were alive, cold and viscous, carrying countless whispered fragments of memories.

As Nezha recovered from his injuries, his brows furrowed and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

His consciousness was not completely asleep, but was pulled into a chaotic, ever-changing space.

At first, it was a familiar scene—Jinguang Cave in Qianyuan Mountain.

Master Taiyi Zhenren sat cross-legged on a futon, holding a whisk, and preaching with his eyes closed. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the vines at the cave entrance, casting dappled shadows on the ground.

Everything was peaceful and serene, as if he had returned to the past, when he was still that innocent and ignorant child who had just taken human form.

“Master…” Nezha murmured unconsciously.

Taiyi Zhenren slowly opened his eyes, but they were empty and black. A strange smile appeared on his lips: "Good disciple, you've returned."

The voice was still the same, but the tone was cold and devoid of warmth.

Nezha suddenly woke up—no! This isn't a memory! His master's eyes were always kind and loving, never empty like this!

He tried to stand up, but found he couldn't move. Looking down, he realized he had reverted to his childhood form, wearing a red bib and holding a fire-tipped spear—just like he looked when he was seven years old.

"What, don't you recognize your master?" Taiyi Zhenren's voice continued, "Come, come to your master's side, let your master take a good look at you."

The voice carried a seductive power. Nezha felt a wave of dizziness, and his body involuntarily wanted to move forward.

"No..." Nezha bit his tongue, the sharp pain bringing him back to his senses. "You're not Master! You're a demon created by the Abyss of Reincarnation!"

"Hehe..." Taiyi Zhenren's figure began to twist and melt, turning into a swirling black mist. From within the black mist came a symphony of countless voices—the voices of his master, his father, his brothers, and even... Ao Bing's.

"Nezha... Nezha... Why..."

"You unfilial son! You still don't know your crime!"

"Third brother, come back..."

"Nezha, let's rebel against this damned fate together!"

These sounds were like countless needles piercing Nezha's mind. He clutched his head and let out a painful roar.

The three-headed, six-armed form manifested uncontrollably, its six arms waving wildly as if trying to dispel the sounds.

But those voices are becoming more numerous and louder.

The scene changes again.

This time, it was the General's Mansion at Chentang Pass.

Li Jing stood before the hall, holding a pagoda, his face ashen. Behind him stood the expressionless Jinzha and Muzha. And kneeling below was a small figure—none other than seven-year-old Nezha.

“You unfilial son! You killed the Dragon King’s third son, pulled out the dragon’s tendons, and committed a terrible disaster! If I don’t punish you today, how can I face the world!” Li Jing’s voice boomed like thunder.

Nezha raised his head, his eyes filled with stubbornness and resentment: "That Ao Bing oppressed the people and forcibly abducted children, he deserves to die! I rid the people of this scourge, what wrong have I done!"

"How dare you talk back!" Li Jing was furious, and he summoned the pagoda in his hand. "Today I will punish you, you wretched creature!"

The pagoda shone with golden light, instantly enveloping Nezha.

This scene represents Nezha's deepest pain. It's not hatred for his father, but hatred for himself at that moment—why was he so impulsive? Why couldn't he have thought of a better solution? Why did he have to go to the point of returning his bones to his father and his flesh to his mother?

"No...no..." Nezha knelt on the ground, his body trembling.

The pagoda descended, enveloping Nezha. A familiar sense of oppression washed over him, suffocating him, filling him with despair.

But this time, he did not resist.

He closed his eyes, letting the golden light of the pagoda corrode his body. His skin began to crack, his flesh began to melt, and his bones groaned under the unbearable weight.

Just like back then.

Just as consciousness was about to sink into darkness, a voice suddenly rang out:

"Hey, you're giving up already?"

His voice was clear and crisp, carrying the unique exuberance of youth.

Nezha suddenly opened his eyes and saw a figure slowly walking towards him from the golden light of the pagoda.

It was a boy of similar age to him, dressed in white, with a handsome face and a light blue dragon pattern on his forehead. What was most striking were his eyes—one blue and one gold, deep as the sea.

“Ao…Ao Bing?” Nezha exclaimed.

"It's me, and it's not me." The boy tilted his head and smiled, a clean and pure smile without a trace of gloom. "I am the Ao Bing in your memory, the Ao Bing that you believe 'should be'."

He walked up to Nezha, squatted down, and looked him in the eye: "Actually, I've always been curious about what you were thinking when you killed me back then?"

Nezha opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

“Let me guess,” the young Ao Bing said to himself, “Are you thinking ‘this guy deserved it,’ ‘it’s great to rid the people of a scourge,’ or are you thinking… ‘why did it have to come to this?’”

"I……"

"Don't rush to answer." The boy reached out and gently touched Nezha's brow with his fingertip. "Take a look at this."

The images flooded my mind.

It's not the version from Nezha's memory, but... another perspective.

Deep within the Dragon Palace of the turbulent East Sea, young Ao Bing huddled among the coral reefs, shivering. His father, the Dragon King of the East Sea, was in a rage because Ao Bing had once again failed in his cultivation, failing to meet his father's expectations.

"Useless trash! You've disgraced the dragon race!"

"Father, I..."

"Shut up! From today onwards, you will come with me to the mortal realm to abduct young boys and girls and use their essence and blood for cultivation! If you fail again, you may never return to the Dragon Palace!"

Little Ao Bing was driven out of the Dragon Palace in tears. He didn't want to harm anyone, he was afraid, but he was even more afraid of disappointing his father and being abandoned by the Dragon Clan.

So he gritted his teeth and did those heinous things, and every time he finished, he would secretly hide and cry.

Until that day, he met a little boy in red.

The child, hands on his hips, pointed at his nose and cursed, "You demon dragon! How dare you snatch a child in broad daylight! I'll skin you alive today!"

Ao Bing wanted to explain, to say "I didn't mean to either," but the words that came out were arrogant provocations: "Where did this brat come from, daring to interfere in the affairs of this Crown Prince!"

Because my father said that dragons must have the dignity of dragons and cannot be weak.

Then, the battle broke out.

Then... he had his dragon tendons pulled out and died outside Chentang Pass.

The last thing he saw before he died was Nezha's angry face, which also carried a hint of... bewilderment.

"So... you were forced into it too?" Nezha murmured.

Young Ao Bing withdrew his finger and smiled: "Now that you know, don't you think that fight back then was particularly boring?"

“I…” Nezha lowered his head, “I’m sorry.”

He had kept those three words to himself for countless years.

“There’s no need to apologize.” Young Ao Bing patted his shoulder. “We were both too young back then, living in our own obsessions. You thought you were acting on behalf of heaven, I thought I was upholding the dignity of the dragon race, but in reality… we were just pawns manipulated by fate.”