There are many types of Thousand Deities, but the Supreme Deities are the strongest among them—enforcers in the eyes of the gods, blades wielded by the rules themselves.
Whenever something beyond the permitted boundaries of the Thousand Worlds emerges, the Supreme Deities are sent to eliminate variables and aberrations.
Si Ming was one such Supreme Deity.
While returning to his own world after purging an aberration, he faintly sensed a peculiar energy. Instinctively, he halted and turned his gaze toward a certain direction in the void.
The energy fluctuation came from there—an indescribable kind of power.
It was like... pure white.
All things in existence possess their own attributes and operate within the cycle of cause and effect. There is hardly anything that is truly pure white, nor anything that exists beyond causality.
Yet, within that faint trace of energy, he could perceive no cause, no effect.
This was unprecedented. Everything in this world should be bound by causality—even he himself was no exception.
Could he have misperceived it?
Si Ming approached the energy. When he finally saw what it was, he understood why it bore no ties to causality.
It was a divine spark.
A divine spark devoid of any attributes—one that had given birth to a nascent deity.
Divine sparks are not part of the cycle of reincarnation, and this one, lacking any inherent nature, naturally existed outside causality.
The deity about to emerge from this divine spark would likewise be free from cause and effect.
A deity born from a divine spark was unheard of—let alone one untouched by causality.
With a single glance, Si Ming knew: this deity would be his bane.
Not just his—this deity would be the nemesis of all malevolent deities.
And since all five Supreme Deities in history were of malevolent nature, this newborn god would be the natural enemy of every one of them.
No one would welcome a sword of Damocles hanging over their head—and Si Ming was no exception.
The mortal world could not withstand his full descent, but he paid it no mind. Coldly observing the world nurturing this new deity, he chose to manifest his true form directly into the core of that world's origin.
He would strangle this threat in its cradle.
***
At the center of the world's origin.
An endless expanse of pure white stretched as far as the eye could see, its boundaries indiscernible. The ground was shrouded in a white mist, and in the far, far distance, a faint glow flickered like the edge of the world, evoking an overwhelming sense of awe. Here, even the passage of time seemed to slow.
The distant light was a perfect, pure white—soft and gentle, not harsh to the eyes, but instead radiating a warmth and purity so profound it felt as though it could cleanse all the sins of the world.
The white glow hovered in the air, rotating slowly, and at its core lay a small figure curled up in peaceful slumber, seemingly still unconscious.
This was the newly born deity being nurtured.
Si Ming gazed down indifferently at the tiny figure, then reached out toward the luminous sphere, intending to annihilate both the world's origin and the being within it.
If the world's origin were destroyed, this world would perish instantly—but what did that matter to Him?
Yet, the moment Si Ming's fingers brushed the light, the figure at its core stirred, as if startled awake by His touch.
Slowly, the small one opened his eyes, his irises shimmering with a misty glow, beautiful as polished gemstones.
Still drowsy and disoriented, he sat up gradually, rubbing his eyes sleepily before noticing the unfamiliar presence before him.
His eyes widened. In an instant, he vanished from the core of the light and reappeared right in front of Si Ming.
Only then did it become clear that this was no child, but a youth who appeared to be sixteen or seventeen, standing just up to Si Ming's shoulders.
Clutching a book to his chest, the boy tilted his head at the tall, striking man before him, his exquisite eyes filled with innocent confusion.
As if wondering—why was there someone else in his home?
The boy was breathtakingly beautiful, as though carved by the heavens themselves. A teardrop mole graced the corner of his eye, adding a touch of delicate allure, and as he tilted his head, his silken hair spilled slightly, tracing a graceful arc in the air—so radiant it stole one's breath.
Yet beauty alone could not stir even a ripple in the heart of a god.
But this boy’s beauty was different. It held no trace of aggression, like sunlight melting over a frozen landscape, tenderly softening the entire world.
Beautiful, warm, pure, untarnished...
Every lovely word could be used to describe him, yet none could truly capture the essence of what he embodied.
He was like the sun, the moon, the stars—like pure light itself, capable of scattering all darkness and sin.
Si Ming simply stood there motionless, silent, which only deepened the boy's confusion.
He looked at Si Ming, his voice cool yet pleasant to the ear. "Who are you? Why are you here?"
Si Ming lowered his gaze, his eyes devoid of any discernible emotion. After nearly a minute of silence, his voice finally sounded.
"Your teacher."
"Teacher?" Though the boy had never been formally taught, he understood the meaning of the word. His beautiful eyes flickered with puzzlement.
"What can you teach me?"
Si Ming's voice was flat and emotionless. "Anything."
The World's Origin was the core of existence—a place no one could enter. The boy had not yet fully come into being, nor could he leave the heart of the World's Origin.
This was both his prison and his protection.
If others were to learn that a god, born from divine essence, was being nurtured here, countless deities would covet him.
No god could tolerate the existence of their own undoing, and none would refuse a chance to grow stronger. By seizing the boy's power, one might even ascend to the highest echelons of divinity.
The gods were never merciful. To gain strength, they would stop at nothing.
Yet the boy seemed unaware of his own significance. The World's Origin held nothing else—this was the first time he had encountered anything besides himself and his book.
He was happy—so happy he could barely contain it.
The corners of his delicate, painting-like eyes curved slightly as he pressed his pale lips together, obediently addressing the unfamiliar man before him.
"Teacher."
The boy was too docile, too innocent—unaware of the world's cruelty, unaware of just how terrifying the being before him truly was.
Si Ming regarded him indifferently. "Do you have a name?"
The boy shook his head. "No. I haven't been born yet."
"The book says only those who are truly born can have names." He pulled out his book, flipping to a specific page to show the man—a motion so practiced it was clear he had memorized every word.
This book was all the boy had. It was the source of all his knowledge, the companion that had seen him through endless time.
Si Ming didn’t even glance at it. Carelessly, he uttered a single word.
"Qing."
"From now on, your name will be Qing—Si Qing."
Qing—pure, without a trace of impurity, just like the boy himself.
The boy seemed to truly love this name. His beautiful eyes shimmered like a sky full of stars, and he flashed a radiant smile.
"Thank you, Teacher."
Ty for the chap!~ (≧▽≦)
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