"But looking back now, I used to be such an honest man."

After becoming the first Divine Office, the Painter's days were rather ordinary.

However, since meeting Zhou Xuan, he defied authority, struck at Heavenly Officials, and killed both Saint Heir and Saintess.

And now, he's about to do something as abominable as "resurrecting the Blood Well."

"Ever since I met the Young Master, this life has truly... truly been too thrilling."

...

Above the heavens, there were clouds,

Above the clouds, a fierce raptor glided across,

And beyond the raptor, what lay beyond? More clouds—layer upon layer—stacking into a realm of endless white clouds.

When Zhou Xuan's Divine Soul ascended through daylight to the Heavenly Dome, he gazed upon an arched bridge that stretched across this world of white clouds.

The bridge, built from mist and clouds, was adorned with tiger-beast patterns, dragon-cloud patterns, and flowing-water patterns. Amid the ever-changing white clouds, the intricate cloud motifs shifted endlessly.

Zhou Xuan's Divine Soul stood atop Cloud Country, obscured from view, not revealing itself.

After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, the Painter emerged from the space realm, carrying Zhou Xuan's body, and stood at the edge of the bridge.

"Young Master, this bridge is called the Heavenly Kingdom Divine Bridge. Upon ascending, mortals must first arrive here and extract the mortal flames from their bodies, placing them upon the bridge. Doing so will disperse the mist-clouds of the Heavenly Kingdom, revealing the twenty-four Divine Countries."

The Painter introduced the mist-covered bridge with familiarity and pride.

"Thus, this bridge has another name: the God-slaying Bridge."

"When New Gods ascend and kill Old Gods, the first stop is this bridge spanning the Heavenly Kingdom."

"Old Hua, you're explaining so thoroughly. Have you snuck here before?" Zhou Xuan asked.

"After mastering the Space Law, I sneaked in for a glimpse."

The Painter flashed an innocent smile, saying, "Cultivation Disciples of Jing Country—who hasn't dreamed of this bridge in their sleep?"

"Then let this God-slaying Bridge bear witness today to the resurrection of one of the Four Great Venerables: the Blood Well."

Zhou Xuan's Divine Soul returned to his physical body.

After his Divine Soul settled, Zhou Xuan's perception of the Heavenly Kingdom deepened and became far more vivid.

Underfoot, it felt as though he was stepping on layers of velvet. His body seemed to sink, yet the white clouds held him aloft, preventing him from falling.

With hands behind his back, the eight Blood Well Human Brains within the Secret Realm began to howl, heightening his Perception to its zenith.

With Perception rivaling that of a God, once condensed, Zhou Xuan turned his Perception into sound and released it throughout the Heavenly Kingdom.

"Gong Zheng, I give you one quarter of an hour to appear. If time is up and you have not shown yourself, I will awaken the Blood Well right here in this vast Heavenly Kingdom."

The sound, carried by Perception, swept over an area as large as Mingjiang Prefecture, ensuring certain Heavenly Officials within the realm would hear it.

"I am starting the count now. Don't say I didn't give you a chance."

Zhou Xuan pulled out his pocket watch, checked the time, sat cross-legged above the cloud layers, meditated with his eyes closed, and exuded an aura of calm detachment.

Time ticked away second by second,

Three minutes passed, and still, Gong Zheng did not respond.

Instead, voices from other gods were heard.

"Zhou Xuan, you cannot resurrect the Blood Well Venerable. You're merely a trivial mortal."

"I am the High Priest ordained by the Blood Well."

"As High Priest, your duty is to appease the Blood Well, not to allow it to manifest."

A sharp voice, seemingly carried from thousands of miles away, spoke with wind-like intensity.

"As gods, your duty is to oversee the human world, ensuring Jing Country progresses in an orderly and harmonious direction,

But it seems even this duty has eluded you... In this world, if you gods can accomplish the 'first day,' why can't I, Zhou Xuan, achieve the 'fifteenth day'?"

Zhou Xuan grew increasingly composed, yet maintained a tone of argument with the myriad gods.

The calmer he became, the more terrifying he seemed. If he had shouted, it would have shown weakness.

This poised tranquility only made the gods think he was insane—in the literal sense.

An insane person—the lengths they would go to?

Even immortals could not foresee.

Time continued to pass,

Another three minutes went by,

This time, Zhou Xuan perceived nine turtle shells jumping outside his Secret Realm.

A certain god was divining his fate... Attempting through fate to discern Zhou Xuan's true intentions for ascending to the Heavenly Kingdom—whether he was bluffing, or genuinely intent on resurrecting the Blood Well and slaying the twenty-four God-level entities atop the Heavenly Dome.

Yet, Zhou Xuan was never a native of this kingdom; divination and foretelling could trace his actions but could not predict his fate.

From a certain perspective,

The more authentic these mystical schools of divination seemed, the less they worked on Zhou Xuan.

Conversely, the straightforward art of "Money Divination," used for combat prediction, was more effective at countering Zhou Xuan.

Upon sensing the turtle-shell divinations, Zhou Xuan identified them as originating from the Dun Jia Tangkou god, "Jiugong," who was attempting a prediction.

He snickered, a taunting tone akin to critiquing subpar cooking, and said, "Jiugong, don't waste your effort. Your divinations mean nothing to me. But this does affect you."

He raised the pocket watch in his hand and said, "Eight minutes have passed. Seven minutes remain before your downfall."

His unyielding calmness exerted immense pressure not only on the gods but also on the Painter.

The Painter dare not breathe heavily, stifled by the divine aura pressing down upon him. He couldn't help marveling internally, "How does the Young Master possess such an overpowering presence? Even conversing with gods, he remains so composed."

"Six minutes... Oh... checked the time wrong... five minutes."

Zhou Xuan stared at the pocket watch, lost in thought.

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