I Am Loaded With Passive Skills

Chapter 3781: Chapter 1828: Hidden Bitter

Time...

What is time?

As the Time Dao Disc unfurled beneath him, Xu Xiaoshou felt himself pull away.

Like a soul leaving its body, he could peer down from a god’s eye view on the entire first floor of the All Time Forgotten Sorrow Pavilion.

Master Siren sat at the tea table pouring tea, Bazhun’an leaned silently by the wooden door, and Kong Yuhen quietly descended the wooden stairs, but lingered at the stairway without approaching.

They gazed at his body while he observed them from above.

"I am time..."

An enlightenment surged in his heart, accompanied by the sound of babbling water in his ears.

In the distance, outside the All Time Forgotten Sorrow Pavilion, a meandering and illusory river broke through the walls without hindrance, originating beneath his feet and extending far into the distance behind him, an indistinct vision in the fog, all unreal.

Not enough.

Still not enough.

Just keep being reckless!

Xu Xiaoshou didn’t let the insight slip away, continuously exchanging for Profound Dao Seeds, planting them in the Field of Profound Dao, feeding the fruits to the Time Dao Disc to maintain his status.

"Time Dao Disc (12%)."

"Time Dao Disc (13%)."

"Time Dao Disc (14%)."

"..."

The progress was extremely slight.

Just like time, ticking at a fixed and slow frequency.

Xu Xiaoshou was shocked to discover that the cost of the Reckless Time Dao Disc far exceeded major discs like the Way of the Sword Disc and Technique Dao Disc.

Previously, a maximum of ten Profound Dao Seeds, equivalent to a million Passive Points, was needed to increase the progress of the Way of the Sword Disc or Technique Dao Disc by 1%.

For each sublimation of the Time Dao Disc, he needed a hundred strikes, equivalent to ten million Passive Points.

Calculating from 11% to 90%, eighty million Passive Points?

Nearly a hundred million?

"It doesn’t matter, I have a billion Passive Points, saved up this long for what, if not to handle emergencies?"

He hoped there was a reason for the expense.

The Way of the Sword Disc and Technique Dao Disc had never let him down.

The Time Dao Disc was the same, with its lofty concept, bringing extremely clear enlightenment with every sublimation.

"..."

"Time Dao Disc (29%)."

"Time Dao Disc (30%)."

When the progress reached 30%, the mist shrouding the river of time dissipated, and Xu Xiaoshou stepped in.

Splash!

The cool water rose over his ankles.

This sound not only entered Xu Xiaoshou’s ears but also caught the attention of the three people in the All Time Forgotten Sorrow Pavilion, and they too saw the river.

"The river of time has manifested..."

Kong Yuhen stared dazedly at the young man’s enlightenment, Bazhun’an’s eyes slightly revealed satisfaction, and Master Siren at the tea table almost dropped his tea cup in shock.

He was truly astonished.

Sit down, and you have it?

Had Kui Leihan not been alive, he would’ve thought Xu Xiaoshou was Kui Leihan reincarnated, comprehension or not, it’s just a thought away.

"Time..."

The quiet murmur echoed in the silent first floor of the All Time Forgotten Sorrow Pavilion.

Xu Xiaoshou waded through the water, taking steps forward, tracing the flow of time backward.

The first sight along the riverbank was the lush flowers and green grass, giving an air of prosperity.

Crossing over boulders washed by the creek for years, he seemed to grasp something and paused for a moment, seeing the old and new displayed on the stones between the high and low waters.

Moss clung to the stone, the underside polished and shiny, the boundary remarkably clear.

Splash!

Another step forward, the scene changed.

The flowers and grass wilted, the moss vanished, and pavilions and towers rose, the grand courtyard structure stood, yet the soil’s yellow hue of the stone before him remained eternally unchanged.

"Time..."

"What is time?"

Xu Xiaoshou seemed to gain insight.

Time is both thriving and ceaseless.

He wasn’t lost in it, quickly regaining clarity, snapping back from the withered grass and river stones.

As he looked forward, it dawned on him that somehow, he had returned to the Outer Yard of the Tiansang Spirit Palace, seeing the courtyard he had purchased for a high price before his Death Seclusion.

"This is him..."

"And also me..."

He saw the naive "self," tending the flowers and plants in the courtyard alone, bidding farewell to each seriously named life and inanimate object, ending with a satisfied nod, and resolutely unlocking the house gate’s great array, locking the door behind him.

No victory, no survival!

Xu Xiaoshou knew the outcome.

He also knew that right now, a mosquito should be trapped in the room.

He deliberately passed through the meditating past "self" cross-legged as if a specter, building and severing the "connection," until long after, the room dimmed, and the path on the bed went uncomprehended.

He let go and took a step forward to leave.

Sensing something suddenly, he turned back and saw the "self" awakening slowly.

"I was born..."

This thought flashed through his mind, and Xu Xiaoshou was perplexed by himself.

The reborn self on the bed was frail, not as tall as now, with speckled freckles he once deemed decent.

Opening his eyes with a slight frown, feeling no pain from the rebirth, he muttered "damn" softly and then began to observe the dim surroundings.

This was the environment Xu Xiaoshou was familiar with now, but for the then unfamiliar self, it was alarming.

He halted his progress, newfound interest spurring him, as he once more surveyed this place of new beginnings with "himself."

What caught the eye was the cobweb-slung ceiling, dust-laden small wooden desk, burned-out candle stubs, and the spiritually potent black sword...

"Whimper~"

The Hidden Bitter by the bedside stirred, murmuring a whimper, as if greeting him, welcoming him back home.

Xu Xiaoshou smiled, walking over to pat Hidden Bitter, though unable to grasp the phantom Hidden Bitter, yet the scene around changed.

...

Clang!

With the old blacksmith’s final hammer stroke, a melodious sword cry resonated from the black sword on the Forging Platform.

However, it quickly faded, the spiritual light vanished, and the sword body dimmed as well.

The burly old blacksmith, whose right arm was thicker by a circle, unsatisfied, picked up the black sword, quenched in flames, marking the first step of life—"birth," and murmured to himself with a frown: