Qin Ruqing emerged from Fifth Lingyu’s illusion and sat in the void for a long time, gradually realizing that she had uncovered a secret.

She felt like she had figured out the truth about the Sixth Domain.

Passing through the illusions of these people, each one was different, as it should be.

But Qin Ruqing sensed a strange connection between them all.

She began to think that the “illusions” she entered were, in fact, the mental spaces of each individual.

Consciousness is chaotic and disordered, capable of jumping from one thing to another without any transition.

But it’s also unique to each person, shaped by their individual experiences.

For example, from Feng Mingyue’s training, one could tell—didn’t Feng Mingyue herself know about the flaw in her swordsmanship?

Even if she didn’t, wouldn’t someone close to her have pointed it out? Qin Ruqing didn’t believe Feng Mingyue was so detached from reality.

Feng Mingyue had probably always known about her swordsmanship’s flaw but had no way to resolve it—was she supposed to return to her mother’s womb and be reborn?

Even if she chose to live a secluded life, the urgency of the current cultivation world made that impossible.

The Sixth Domain realized the thoughts that had long swirled in Feng Mingyue’s heart and helped her manifest them.

As for Qirong’s illusion, it seemed more like a fleeting thought that had once crossed his mind.

This thought was buried deep in the sea of his consciousness, like a part of the subconscious that is never directly seen or acknowledged.

But the Sixth Domain captured it and magnified it for him.

Tang Zifeng was someone with a calm and stable disposition.

His world was simple and orderly.

His consciousness didn’t drift; it moved like the workings of a machine, with its own rhythm and pace.

He wouldn’t trouble himself with meaningless things, and if something bothered him, he would solve it through action.

Action took precedence over thought, which is why his illusion was serene.

As for the Third Sister’s illusion, it also had no great waves or fluctuations, as she had long passed the time of internal turmoil.

After returning to the family from the Abyss, the Third Sister had reconciled with her past and with her father.

Her nature was already calm, and now, her heart was as solid as a rock, impervious to storms.

Finally, there was Fifth Lingyu, whose illusion was the most vivid compared to the others.

It was like the difference between a drizzle and a thunderstorm.

Fifth Lingyu seemed trapped in a nightmare, forced to relive the painful events of his life.

But this pain was not something the Sixth Domain had actively created; it was a suffering already rooted in Fifth Lingyu’s consciousness.

His thoughts were never at peace.
Even without the Sixth Domain, Fifth Lingyu was trapped in a vortex of memories, unable to escape the pain and regret.

The Sixth Domain merely projected the images that already haunted his mind.

Qin Ruqing’s initial thoughts about the illusions were mere speculations. It wasn’t until she saw Fifth Lingyu’s that she could confirm it:

Everything presented by the Sixth Domain was connected to human consciousness and thought.

With this realization, a new theory began to form in her mind.

Could it be that the Sixth Domain itself was a vast “consciousness”?

Were they all living within this “consciousness,” unknowingly influenced by it?

Whose consciousness had such a powerful impact?

Qin Ruqing didn’t need to think for long before an answer emerged in her mind.
“Dao Ancestor,” Qin Ruqing softly uttered these words into the void.

She looked up, and at that moment, the world suddenly lit up.

The darkness of the void receded like a tide, and her previously vanished form quickly reappeared under the light, eventually taking full shape.

Qin Ruqing stared straight ahead and asked, “Dao Ancestor, you’ve been watching us all along, haven’t you?
The legendary Sixth Domain—isn’t it actually the sea of your consciousness?”

Qin Ruqing held her breath, listening intently, but no reply came, as she had hoped.

Suddenly, her vision went dark, and her consciousness plunged.

When she opened her eyes again and saw the scene before her, Qin Ruqing was stunned.

This was… her own sea of consciousness.
Or rather, it was the sea of consciousness the Sixth Domain had captured and presented for her.

In the scene, there was a young girl who bore an eighty percent resemblance to Qin Ruqing.

The only two differences were in her attire.

This girl was wearing modern clothes.

She stood in a large, lavishly decorated room, and though the room was exquisite and beautiful, the girl stood there like a doll on display.

The doll was indeed beautiful, but inevitably hollow.

Until the doll spoke softly: “Starting today, I will be happy.”

It was as though she was making a declaration to the world.

The doll’s expression suddenly became incredibly vivid.

She turned around and left the display case that had once held her.

Qin Ruqing calmly watched everything unfold and nodded approvingly as the doll turned and left, saying with a smile, “Well done.”

She had just reviewed some of the significant events from her past life, which were pivotal moments she had thought she had long forgotten.

However, the Sixth Domain had shown her that these memories were deeply embedded in her consciousness, like the soil from which she had grown.

Everything had started here, and she would never forget it.

After she finished viewing these scenes, the illusion shifted, and she found herself in a different place.

Qin Ruqing addressed the void with calm curiosity, “Ancestor, why did you insist on having me review my own consciousness? My mindset is healthy and my emotions are stable; it wouldn’t matter whether I saw it or not.”

Finally, a response came from the void, gentle and drifting.

“Awakened by ancestral wisdom.”

Qin Ruqing realized the voice was not spoken but communicated directly into her mind, like an instant response to her question.

She didn’t believe there were secrets between her and the Ancestor.

Whether or not the system could be detected was uncertain, but the existence of her “past life memories” was undoubtedly evident, as they were immersed in the Ancestor’s consciousness.

After a respectful bow to the void, she sat cross-legged and naturally asked, “Ancestor, am I a traveler from another world?”

She wanted to understand the recent divine presence in the cultivation world and what her situation truly was—whether it was a typical transmigration or something else.

“No,” the Ancestor replied. “Your soul and body are naturally compatible, with no signs of soul transfer. The ‘past life’ you speak of is merely your previous life’s memories. The true foreign element is the mysterious force that unlocked these past life memories for you—what you refer to as the system.”

Hearing this, Qin Ruqing couldn’t help but feel a touch of mockery.

She deliberately called out to the system in her mind.

The system, as expected, went silent.

“Understood,” Qin Ruqing nodded and asked, “Ancestor, what kind of existence are you now?”

If others in the cultivation world had been here, they might have been shocked by how directly Qin Ruqing asked such a question without any buffer.

This was considered disrespectful to the Ancestor!

But Qin Ruqing asked straightforwardly.

Her reasoning was simple—since her consciousness was directly interacting with the Ancestor, there were no secrets to hide.

Why not be direct and save the trouble of elaborate wording?

“My current state is as you imagine,” the Ancestor responded.

Qin Ruqing nodded, realizing that the Ancestor was indeed “dead.”

To what extent was this death?

Not only the physical body but even the soul was gone, leaving only a fragment of consciousness lingering in the world.

The old-timers outside might have wept and lamented if they knew this news.

“Ancestor, your existence is so great; how did you end up in such a state?” Qin Ruqing asked earnestly, her tone and demeanor reflecting genuine curiosity.

The vast consciousness in her mind seemed to tremble, giving the impression of a smile.

“I am not the Heavenly Dao, nor a deity. As a being who has transformed into a human, I am naturally subject to human constraints—emotions, biases, and the limitations of human lifespan.”

“Since you’ve become human, were you not originally a human, Ancestor?” Qin Ruqing keenly grasped the crucial part of the Ancestor’s words.

The scene in her mind abruptly changed to an endless, dusky world, with occasional orange-red stars falling, flowing colors merging and blurring, making the distinction between heaven and earth seem nonexistent.

In this profound, watery darkness, there was a softly glowing clear light. It seemed to be the source of the world, the core of the universe.

The clear light took the shape of a blooming lotus with petals unfurled.

Qin Ruqing naturally understood the name of this lotus and the message the Ancestor wanted to convey.

The Chaos Blue Lotus was a divine entity from the time when the heavens and earth were first created.

This was the Ancestor’s true form.

The Ancestor had emerged from chaos, taking the form of the Azure Lotus, and then assumed human form.

The name “Dao Ancestor” was given by later generations.

Qin Ruqing finally understood why her Dao Physique was called “Azure Lotus Dao Physique” despite having another name, “Chaos Dao Physique,” and its powers related to chaos.

It was the Ancestor’s original form and self-chosen name.

Thinking for a moment, Qin Ruqing changed her seated posture to kneeling, her demeanor becoming solemn.

She spoke clearly and slowly:

“Ancestor, according to your prophecy, the calamity of the human race has already arrived. On behalf of the entire cultivation world, I seek your guidance on how the human race can overcome this calamity.”

“Please enlighten us, Ancestor.” Qin Ruqing gently bowed her head in reverence.