The Primordial World had just begun. Heaven and earth were still undivided.
Chaos stretched like an endless sea, churning with turbid currents of gray-white and dark red. There was no up or down, no direction, and no concept of time. Primordial energy coursed through the void, sometimes gathering into thin strands, sometimes bursting into showers of light. Every wisp held enough power to tear stars apart, yet deep in this chaotic expanse, such forces were no more than ordinary ripples.
A faint green light floated at the heart of chaos, shaped like a sapling, less than an inch tall, with unopened leaves and newly formed roots. It stood still, as if it had always belonged in this desolate place. Within the green light, a thread of consciousness was slowly taking shape.
Li Dao awoke.
He did not know who he was or where he was. His memories were like muddy water stirred into chaos, with only a few scattered images flashing past: a city full of towering buildings, neon lights at night, the sound of fingers tapping a keyboard, and then, in the final moment, darkness fell before his eyes and all awareness vanished.
New book: My Comprehension Is Heaven-Defying in the Primordial World, and I Prove the Hunyuan Dao Through Shrouding the Heavens
