Journey to the West: A clone sacrifices to the heavens, possessing boundless magical power.

Huang Mao'er reached out and began to carefully explore the cold stone wall, based on the approximate location of the stone door he had glimpsed earlier.

"Click".

A very faint sound came from inside the stone wall.

The next moment, a narrow gap, barely wide enough for one person to squeeze through sideways, silently slid open in front of Huang Mao'er.

This is a secret door that is normally used for moving items, or only opened when the security measures are ineffective...

As the narrow gap slid open, a divine breeze, more than ten times purer than before, rushed towards us.

The already crumbling demon body of Huang Mao'er suffered even greater damage from the cracks on its surface caused by the impact of this pure wind.

However, along with this terrifying wind came an extremely rich and refreshingly strange fragrance.

With just a gentle sniff, Huang Mao's soul, which was on the verge of dissipating due to the intense pain, suddenly froze, as if it had been infused with a cool and powerful vitality.

Huang Mao peered through the crack in the door. Behind the crack was a very clean short passageway. The passageway was not long, about ten zhang. The ground and walls were paved with an unknown blue stone, smooth as a mirror, without a speck of dust.

The entire passageway was filled with a faint, holy golden light, illuminating the place as if it were a divine realm.

The mesmerizing golden glow and the intoxicating, exotic fragrance emanated from within the passageway.

right here!

Fan Yuan had no more doubts. That fragrance must be the one he had been searching for, emanating from the remnants of lamp oil in front of the Buddha!

Huang Mao slipped into the passageway and saw a futon woven from withered cattail grass at the end. In front of the futon was an ancient stone lampstand, and on the lampstand, quietly sat an open jade box carved from fine warm jade.

Inside the jade box lay a crystal-clear fragment, no bigger than a fingernail.

The fragment was still stained with a few drops of solidified, amber-like golden gelatin.

The alluring and intoxicating fragrance, the pure and exquisite golden radiance imbued with the Daoist essence of wind, all originated from the specks of golden cream on this fragment.

Just as Fan Yuan's soul was completely drawn to the fragment, outside the cave, the triumphant laughter of the Yellow Wind King echoed from the main passage, and it seemed to be gradually approaching.

Time is of the essence!

Huang Maoer raised his right hand, and a wisp of demonic power condensed at his fingertips, transforming into an illusory palm. It was the transformation technique that he had long mastered.

He attempted to use this magic to remotely retrieve the glass shards from the jade box.

However, the illusory hand made of magical power, which had just reached out three feet and had not yet approached the jade box, suddenly stopped.

Immediately afterward, under Fan Yuan's horrified gaze, the palm, like a sand sculpture thrown into a millstone, was instantly shattered by an invisible force, transforming into the purest spiritual light and dissipating into nothingness.

No!

Fan Yuan instantly came to the conclusion that this Daoist aura rejected all external magical power.

Any supernatural power or technique, the moment it gets close, will have its true meaning dissolved and broken down into its original spiritual energy.

You must... touch it yourself.

At the moment of contact, the impact of Dao energy that his clone would have to endure would probably be a hundred times, a thousand times stronger than it is now!

There was no other choice; the Yellow Wind King could return at any moment, and this was the only chance.

Huang Mao'er took a deep breath, and concentrated all the remaining demonic power in his body into the tip of his right index finger. The moment the layer of Weak Water membrane disappeared, he touched the glass shard in the jade box.

The moment his fingertips touched that golden, creamy substance.

A strange feeling, indescribable in words, instantly spread throughout his soul.

In that instant, time seemed to stand still.

Everything outside, from the heavy footsteps to the sharp wind blades, suddenly faded away.

Immediately afterwards, an unimaginably vast torrent of information flowed down his fingertips, without any transformation or filtering, and poured into the depths of his consciousness in the most primal way.

A storm of memories originating from the primordial era!

He seemed to see the summit of Mount Ling, where ten thousand Buddhas chanted, and an ancient glass lamp burned quietly before the Buddha, its warm light illuminating the three thousand worlds.

Within the lamp, the clear oil, as pure as molten gold, was flowing slowly in a trajectory imbued with supreme Daoist principles. Each pulse seemed to resonate with some profound truth of heaven and earth.

A drop of lamp oil accidentally fell from the wick; instead of falling into the lamp, it fell into the endless void.

In that instant, this golden jelly suddenly disintegrated, transforming into endless, primordial breezes that swept across the past and future, permeating the world of Hengsha.

That is the origin of all wind...

Immediately afterwards, the image shattered, and countless chaotic fragments of imagery surged forth like a flood bursting its banks.

All of this is too complex and too chaotic, yet it all points directly to the origin of the wind.

In reality, Huang Mao stood frozen in front of the jade box, his fingertips still touching the golden cream. His eyes had long lost all their luster and become empty.

His body, subjected to the dual impact of external Daoist energy and internal information torrents, began to tremble violently and uncontrollably.

His soul, too, was like a small boat in a storm, ready to capsize at any moment.

Fan Yuan desperately guarded the last vestige of clarity in his clone's spiritual platform, frantically searching for and summarizing the most core truth from the torrent of countless pieces of information.

After an unknown period of time, two core truths, like the first wisp of Dao sound at the beginning of the world, finally emerged clearly from the endless chaos.

Dissolving and unimpeded—this is the most fundamental characteristic of Samadhi Wind: it penetrates everywhere and remains in every gap.

The process of contact is like throwing one's soul into an endless storm, letting it be torn apart and broken down, and then relying on great perseverance to rebuild it little by little.

The entire process was extremely painful, but with each bit of pain came a deeper understanding of the Samadhi Divine Wind.

In a cave a hundred miles away, Fan Yuan's brows were already tightly furrowed.

He could clearly perceive everything his clone was experiencing at that moment—a bizarre experience of walking on a knife's edge, where extreme bliss and extreme suffering coexisted.

He knew that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Ordinary cultivators, even celestial immortals and true immortals, may not have the opportunity to comprehend the origin of innate supernatural powers so closely and deeply in their entire lives.