477: Chapter 476 Taking a Step Beyond the Dimensional Barrier, Spring Rain Wets His Green Robe

"Achoo—"

A loud, completely unrefined sneeze shattered the tranquility of this newly born Taiwu Ancestral Court.

Zhou Wannian rubbed his slightly itchy nose tip, slowly waking from that long and deep slumber.

When he opened his eyes, the first thing his gaze met was a verdant green leaf that had landed precisely across the bridge of his nose.

He did not use his Protective Aura to shake off the fallen leaf; instead, he reached out quite naturally and pinched the leaf, which carried a hint of cool moisture, between his two fingers.

It felt warm and smooth to the touch, its veins clearly visible.

He could even smell a faint, wonderful scent mixed with the sweetness of peach blossoms and the fragrance of aged tea.

Zhou Wannian gently rubbed the surface of the leaf with the pad of his thumb, then flicked it, sending the leaf that had fallen from the towering tree into the clear, rushing stream ahead.

Watching the green leaf spin as it drifted downstream with the stream formed by high-dimensional Spiritual Qi, his faded green cloth robe rubbed against the soft grass, creating a rustling sound.

He pressed his hands against the moss-covered, thick tree root behind him and used the leverage to stand up.

"Crack... snap..."

Zhou Wannian stretched lazily with absolutely no regard for decorum, his joints popping with a series of crisp sounds like roasted soybeans.

This sleep had been too deep, too thorough.

There was no longer the tugging of ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine Jade-ified Chains deep within his Divine Soul, no longer the limitless Absolute Mass that he had to suppress with all his might, and certainly no longer that black whetstone hanging over the All Heavens and Myriad Worlds, ready at any moment to grind through the threads of Law.

His body now felt as light as a feather that had just drifted down from a tree.

That sense of relaxation, seeping from the depths of his marrow after shedding a burden carried for tens of millions of years, made him exhale a long breath once more.

"Hoo—"

The turbid Qi he exhaled turned into a breeze, brushing over the layer of short grass on the plain and causing the nameless little flowers to sway.

Zhou Wannian lowered his head and brushed some grass clippings and mud off the hem of his green robe.

Then, he raised his eyes, deep as cold pools, to take one last look at this place that was once known as the ultimate dead zone of the Universe.

Above, the starlight was clear and bright; the soft starlight no longer carried any oppressive, deathly Law.

Ahead, the towering green mountain, evolved from the ten-thousand-foot ancient dark red gate, stood across the end of the plain.

Two waterfalls, formed from the weathering of metal copper rings, roared as they flowed, refracting brilliant, colorful rainbows in mid-air.

And behind him, this towering tree, which had grown from a mere Mortal peach pit that stubbornly took root in mud and Death Qi, was making a happy rustling sound as its leaves rubbed together.

Its massive root system, like countless dormant coiled Dragons, tirelessly converted the residual Universe waste deep underground, feeding the purest Life Qi back into this land.

Everything had entered the right track.

This Taiwu Ancestral Court had completely shaken off its notorious reputation as a dead zone and had become a grotto-heaven pregnant with endless vitality, incomparable even to the top-tier immortal blessed lands.

It was like an infant that had just recovered from a serious illness and was greedily breathing in fresh air.

It did not need anyone to interfere anymore; it could grow wildly and robustly on its own in this new Universe without shackles.

"Alright, the job of guarding the house is yours. You've grown quite spirited, though your scent is a bit mixed."

Zhou Wannian turned around, reached out, and gave the ancient, sturdy tree trunk behind him—which was as thick as a city wall—a couple of light pats, as if saying goodbye to an old friend.

Above in the canopy, a more intense rustling sound came, and wisps of green Life Qi mist drifted down, affectionately lingering on Zhou Wannian's shoulders as if responding to his entrustment.

Zhou Wannian smiled and said nothing more.

He withdrew his hand and habitually clasped his hands behind his back.

Since the Heavens had learned to breathe on their own and this mess had been cleaned up, there was naturally no reason for him to stay in this wilderness and continue playing the role of a clay Bodhisattva.

He was not the type of savior who enjoyed sitting on a high altar, accepting the worship of all living beings.

No matter how rich the Spiritual Qi was here, or how beautiful the scenery, for an idle scholar who had rolled in the Mortal World for countless epochs, it was ultimately a bit too "clean."

So clean that it felt unsettling.

"The scenery here is good, but unfortunately, there's no wine."

Zhou Wannian slightly lifted his chin, his Great Perfection vision instantly piercing through this newly born grotto-heaven, crossing the vast and boundless sea of stars, and locking precisely onto an extremely distant, extremely tiny spatial coordinate.

There, he had half a bowl of unfinished yellow wine, and a few unfinished salted peanuts.

And there was that Old Shopkeeper of the wine shop who complained about rheumatism and joint pain whenever it rained, and who was stingy to his very bones.

"Time to go."

Before his voice had even faded.

Zhou Wannian's right foot, wearing an immaculate green cloth shoe, stepped out plainly and simply into the Void Realm ahead.

There were no hand seals, no incantations, and no violent air currents tearing through space.

It was just like stepping over the threshold of his own courtyard; the movement was casual to the extreme.

But at the very instant his sole landed.

"Hum—"

The physical Laws around Zhou Wannian underwent a silent collapse and folding.

The vibrant green grass, the roaring waterfall, and the rustling giant trees of the Taiwu Ancestral Court faded and receded from his senses in an instant, like a painting being violently snatched away.

Immediately following was an extremely intense, indescribable sensation of weightlessness.

This weightlessness was not the physical imbalance of falling from a height, but a wondrous dislocation between his Divine Soul and Physical Body at a conceptual level when the spatial span was great enough to cross a dimensional barrier.

Everything around him turned into distorted, bizarre phantasmagoria.

Time lost its meaning of flowing in a single direction here, and space was folded into a thin sheet with zero thickness.

One moment, he was still standing in the high-dimensional grotto-heaven at the very core of the Universe, where the energy level was the highest.

The next moment.

"Squelch."

A faint, sticky sound of a shoe sole stepping into a puddle and squeezing out mud came from beneath Zhou Wannian's feet.

The weightlessness that made his Divine Soul float was, at the moment his foot touched solid ground, forcibly and brutally pressed back into this Mortal body by that insignificant splash of water.

Zhou Wannian's figure appeared out of thin air in a cramped, narrow dead-end alley.

Before he even opened his eyes, an extremely intense, complex, and perhaps even "turbid" sensory storm impatiently wrapped around his entire being.

"Drip, drip..."

"Pitter-patter! Whoosh..."

The first thing to strike his eardrums was the sound of rain.

This was not the sweet nectar formed from high-dimensional Spiritual Qi; this was real, genuine spring rain, carrying the chill peculiar to the Lower Realm.

Raindrops pelted against the mottled white walls and black tiles on both sides of the alley, making crisp shattering sounds; they gathered into streams along the moss-covered eaves, falling onto the uneven bluestone pavement beneath his feet, splashing up tiny flowers of muddy water.

Besides the sound of rain, there were the vague barks of dogs from the distant streets, and further away, the clucking of an old hen in someone's yard after laying an egg.

Then, there was the smell.

There was no longer that high-dimensional, pure-to-the-point-of-outrageous fragrance of vitality from the Taiwu Ancestral Court.

What entered Zhou Wannian's nostrils was the damp, earthy scent of soil, the faint musty smell from the slick moss in the corner, and the choking smoke drifting from a neighbor's chimney, carrying the scent of pine resin.

Even in the cold wind that blew back in, he keenly caught a trace of an extremely faint, over-fermented, sour scent of distiller's grains.

Chaotic, damp, and even revealing a touch of shabby decay.

But all these sensations intertwined, like a rough yet warm hand, giving Zhou Wannian a firm slap on the back.

"Hoo..."

Zhou Wannian opened his eyes abruptly and took a long breath of this cold, damp, Mortal air, mixed with countless particles of dust.

The air was drawn into his lungs, and that real, slightly choking, stimulating sensation made a heartfelt, incomparably comfortable smile bloom on his handsome face.

"It feels damn real."

He muttered to himself.

He had stepped out of the dimensional barrier, returning from the end of the Universe to this muddy Mortal World.

The contrast brought by such an extreme spatial span did not make him feel any discomfort; instead, it gave him the pleasure of a traveler returning home, finally able to take off his shoes and run wild in the mud.

"Whoosh—"

A spring breeze, carrying the chill peculiar to the late spring cold, blew back into the cramped dead-end alley.

Zhou Wannian did not activate the mass within his body that was still sufficient to crush galaxies, nor did he release even a shred of Protective Aura.

Just like a thorough Mortal scholar, he withdrew all his defenses and let the cold spring rain fall densely and continuously onto his faded green cloth robe.

The rainwater quickly soaked through the thin fabric.

The cold sensation pressed against his warm skin, raising a layer of fine goosebumps.

The green fabric on his shoulders became a shade darker after being soaked, clinging wetly to his thin yet straight back.

"Spring rain drenches the green robe; this pedantic verse is quite fitting for the moment."

Feeling the chill seeping into his very bones, Zhou Wannian not only did not dodge it, but instead leisurely clasped his hands behind his back, tilted his head, and let a few drops of cold rain splash onto his cheeks.

The droplets slid down his handsome jawline and dripped into his collar.

He shivered slightly from the cold.

But this shiver only made the smile on his face even more pronounced.

In the Taiwu Ancestral Court, he was a mighty being who could split a dead end with one burst of anger, shatter a black whetstone with one palm, and carry the underlying logic of the entire Universe on his shoulders.

There, he could not feel cold or pain, because his existence had transcended those basic physical perceptions.

Only by returning to this muddy Mortal World, only by letting this cold spring rain drench his clothes, and only by truly shivering, did he feel that he was still the Zhou Wannian of flesh and blood, who would bicker with the Old Shopkeeper over a few coins.

"This rain is falling even more densely than when I left."

Zhou Wannian lowered his head and glanced at his pair of green cloth shoes that were once immaculate.

At this moment, the sole of his shoe had already stepped into a shallow puddle filled with muddy water in the alleyway.

The "squelch" sound made when he stepped out of the space barrier just now was the noise caused by the intimate contact between the shoe sole and the mud.

Mud splashed up, leaving several glaring mud spots on the washed-out white shoe surface.

Zhou Wannian pulled his foot out of the puddle without a care, rubbing the sole of his shoe casually against the bluestone slab, creating a slippery, friction-filled sound.

He turned around and faced the street outside the alley.

Or rather, he faced the dilapidated wooden door at the entrance of the alley, its paint peeling and slightly ajar.

That was the back door of the wine shop.

Not long ago, he had walked out of this very door, hands behind his back, taking a plain and simple step, traversing endless space to smash that copper coin cage—which had attempted to drag All Heavens and Myriad Worlds into deathly silence—into smithereens.

And there, he experienced a heaven-destroying and earth-shattering battle, underwent the transformation of his inner universe's mass, and even slept a comfortable afternoon nap of unknown duration beneath that towering giant tree grown from a peach pit.

According to common sense, such high-dimensional conflicts, such major events involving the underlying evolution of the Universe... as the saying goes, "one day in heaven is a year on earth," so in this Lower Realm, centuries or even millennia should have already passed for the Mortals.

This wine shop would likely have changed hands seven or eight times, and even this alley might have undergone sea changes.

But Zhou Wannian's expression was incomparably certain.

He strode forward, stepping on the slick bluestone slabs, braving the dense spring rain, walking unhurriedly toward that back door.

The "tap-tap" sound of his shoe soles striking the stone slabs was exceptionally clear amidst the sound of the rain.

Reaching the threshold, Zhou Wannian did not pause, directly extending his right hand, which was still stained with a bit of high-dimensional moisture, and pressed it against the creaking wooden door.

"Creeeak—"

The somewhat heavy wooden door was pushed open, emitting that familiar, teeth-grinding friction sound.

A wave of heat mixed with the rich, sour scent of yellow wine, the smoky smell of dying charcoal, and the rotten odor of aged wood rushed toward his face.

Zhou Wannian stepped over the threshold, walked into the dark back hall of the wine shop, followed the narrow passageway draped in spiderwebs, and lifted the greasy fabric curtain whose original color could no longer be discerned.

His vision suddenly opened up, although the front hall of the wine shop appeared somewhat dim due to the rain.

But the scene before him caused a hint of extremely soft, yet extremely absurd, amusement to ripple in Zhou Wannian's deep eyes.

In the dilapidated front hall, it was empty, with few patrons.

Outside the window, the drizzling spring rain was still tapping against the eaves.

And beside that paint-peeling wooden table near the window.

That Old Shopkeeper, wearing grey cloth short-garments and hunched over, was standing with his back to Zhou Wannian.

The Old Shopkeeper held a tattered rag in one hand—used for who knows how many years and completely coated in grime—and was grumbling while wiping at stubborn oil stains on another empty table that simply wouldn't come off.

"Damn this weather, this spring chill is freezing one's bones to the marrow. It just keeps raining, raining, and raining; not a ghost has entered the door all day, how is this business supposed to run..."

The Old Shopkeeper's familiar, hoarse complaints mixed into the sound of the rain and clearly reached Zhou Wannian's ears.

Zhou Wannian stood by the fabric curtain, not speaking to interrupt the Old Shopkeeper's muttering.

His gaze passed over the Old Shopkeeper's hunched back and landed on the wooden table by the window.

That was the spot where he had been sitting before he left.

On the wooden table, the coarse porcelain wine bowl with several small chips still sat there steadily.

The few remaining drops of murky, yellowish wine at the bottom of the bowl reflected the gloomy daylight from outside the window.

Most crucially.

Above that coarse porcelain wine bowl, a wisp of extremely faint yet clearly visible white steam was rising like a slender thread, slowly dissipating after coming into contact with the cold air.

The wine had not yet gone cold.

And beside the wine bowl, those two copper coins stained with a bit of mud were lying quietly on the greasy tabletop, not having moved an inch. That plate of unfinished salted peanuts was still soaking in the star anise-scented brine, emitting a faint, savory aroma.

This was the Great Perfection Space Law; this was the absolute Realm that transcended dimensions.

For Zhou Wannian.

He had smashed the Universe's death trap in the high-dimensional deep space, reshaped the rules of heaven and earth, and even taken a nap under the giant tree. All of this had occurred within the dimensional gaps that transcended the concept of time.

When he tore open the dimensional barrier and set that foot wearing a blue cloth shoe back onto the bluestone slabs of this Jiangnan Small Town.

For this town, for this dilapidated wine shop, and even for the Old Shopkeeper who was currently wiping the table.

Time seemed to have truly only passed for...

the duration of a trip to the latrine in the backyard.

"Shopkeeper, if you keep wiping with that rag, you're going to scrape a layer of skin right off that table."

Zhou Wannian stood with his hands leisurely crossed behind his back, his blue cloth long gown, soaked by the spring rain, clinging to his body and still dripping water. A signature, idle smile that carried a hint of a street rogue hung on the corners of his mouth as he spoke slowly.

The Old Shopkeeper, who was bent over wiping the table vigorously, was startled by the sudden voice.

He straightened his back abruptly, turned around, and squinted his somewhat murky old eyes at Zhou Wannian, who was standing by the curtain of the back hall.

Upon seeing that it was Zhou Wannian, a flash of astonishment immediately crossed the Old Shopkeeper's wrinkled old face, which then turned into grumpy complaining.

"Oh my! Mr. Zhou, it's broad daylight, how do you walk without making a single sound? You scared the life out of me!"

The Old Shopkeeper draped the tattered rag over his shoulder, wiped his hands haphazardly on his apron, and walked over with a staggering gait.

He looked Zhou Wannian up and down, noting his soaked blue gown, then glanced at the wide-open back door, his murky eyes filled with confusion.

"Wait, Mr. Zhou, didn't you say you were going to the backyard to relieve yourself? How... how did you run out through the back door? Look, look at you, going out for a trip and getting soaked like a drowned rat! You can't let this spring chill soak into you; be careful of the cold entering your body, you'll end up with aching bones like me when you get old!"

While grumbling on and on, the Old Shopkeeper walked to the table by the window where Zhou Wannian had been sitting and swept his gaze across it.

He saw the two copper coins stained with mud.

The old man's eyes lit up, and his previous concern was instantly replaced by money-grubbing worldliness. He unceremoniously extended his fingers, which were like withered tree branches, pinched the two copper coins, habitually blew on them, and then satisfiedly stuffed them into the money pouch inside his bosom.

"Oh, so the money was on the table after all." The Old Shopkeeper raised his head, looking at Zhou Wannian with a sidelong glance, his tone carrying a hint of teasing. "I thought you saw the rain and were using a 'bathroom break' as an excuse to skip out on paying for this bowl of hot wine!"

Zhou Wannian watched the Old Shopkeeper's practiced, fluid money-collecting movements and listened to his petty, worldly words.

Not only was he not angry, but instead, inside this dilapidated wine shop, he couldn't help but burst into loud laughter.

"Hahahaha..."

The laughter was hearty, revealing a sense of relief from having shed all the Karma of the Universe and completely merging into this muddy Mortal World.

"What are you laughing at? Did I say something wrong? You scholars often run up tabs too." The Old Shopkeeper was bewildered by Zhou Wannian's laughter and muttered a sentence.

Zhou Wannian reined in his laughter, but the amusement in his eyes could not be hidden no matter what.

He dragged his dripping blue gown, strode back to the seat by the window, and plopped down.

"I slapped the money on the table; that's called a fair exchange, what bill am I skipping out on?"

Zhou Wannian extended his slender, fair fingers and tapped them gently twice on the greasy tabletop.

"I saw the rain was heavy, so I ran into the alley to look at those few wild grasses that had just sprouted. Who knew this damn sky would start raining just like that? I didn't bring an umbrella, so of course, I got soaked."

He said this plainly, without blushing or heart palpitations.

As if his experience of crossing the Primordial Dark Red Gate and smashing the world-destroying black whetstone just now was truly as simple as going to the alley entrance to look at a blade of wild grass.

The dislocation of time and space was, at this moment, perfectly stitched together by him using such a grounded, crude excuse.

This Realm of casually kneading the grand birth and death of the Universe with a bowl of inferior wine and a spring rain.

This was true transcendence of dimensions, and this was the Great Perfection that belonged solely to the idle scholar Zhou Wannian.

"Looking at wild grass? I really don't understand the leisurely tastes of you scholars."

The Old Shopkeeper shook his head, turned around, and prepared to go to the back hall.

"Alright, seeing as you didn't run up a tab. Your clothes are wet, I'll go to the back and find you a dry rag to wipe off. This spring chill is nothing to mess around with."

Just as the Old Shopkeeper was about to lift the curtain.

Zhou Wannian's voice drifted slowly from behind him.

"Shopkeeper, forget the dry rag."

Zhou Wannian leaned back against the paint-peeling wooden chair, one leg crossed over the other in a completely unrefined sitting posture, the blue cloth shoes on his feet, stained with mud spots, swaying gently to the rhythm of the raindrops outside the window.

He turned his head slightly, watching the silky, dense Jiangnan spring rain outside the window, listening to the rustling sound of the rain hitting the bluestone slabs.

His soaked blue cloth long gown clung to his body; although the chill was bone-piercing, his heart felt incomparably warm and secure.

"Go to the back and fetch me another half-jin of the most sour, most inferior yellow wine you have here."

Zhou Wannian turned his head, and in his deep eyes, a hint of extremely pure craving, belonging to a living Mortal, welled up.

"Remember, add two more slices of ginger, and heat it until it's piping hot."

He extended two fingers, pinched a soft-soaked salted peanut from the plate, tossed it high into the air, and then tilted his head back, catching it accurately in his mouth.

"Crunch."

Chewing the star anise-scented peanut in his mouth, Zhou Wannian shouted indistinctly toward the Old Shopkeeper's back.

"If you dare to mix in even half a ladle of well water into the wine this time..."

He grinned, revealing a roguish, worldly smile.

"Watch out, or I'll really throw that broken abacus of yours into the mud pit outside."