The green-gold Buddha was clear on the outside and inside. His body was like glass, giving off a feeling that he would not be worn down even after a thousand tribulations. A smile that had never changed remained on his face. It was as if he had anticipated all the changes and was waiting for the opportunity now.
Meng Qi sat cross-legged on the cloud bed. The back of his head was round and clear, containing all the possibilities of the Great Dao. He looked calmly at the golden body of the Saint Buddha and thought of the oldest and most powerful celestial master in the distance. Suddenly, he smiled, the dark, deep, and seemingly one-point primordial Qi of the infinite supreme suddenly flew out and enveloped the perfected golden body of the Bodhi. It was worn down by chaos and assimilated with the infinite supreme, the other side of the eight-nine arcane art dripped into his illusory dao fruit.
