(5,000 words offered — last day, please vote~)
Accumulating earth makes a mountain, and wind and rain arise; accumulating water makes a deep pool, and the flood-dragon is born; accumulating goodness makes virtue, and spirits naturally come, the saintly heart completes itself.
Therefore, without accumulating small steps one cannot reach a thousand li; without gathering little streams one cannot form rivers and seas.
Whether it was the Moonlit Corpse Refinement or the Solar Palace Incineration, neither was a simple matter.
It was only that Cheng Xinzhan had spent decades studying many schools and integrating them.
Thus, when the need arose, his past accumulations finally came into play and everything seemed effortless.
More than ten days passed.
Each time he shook the bell, the sounds from the sand dune grew larger, while the True-Mist in the Crimson Palace slowly condensed and shrank under the burning of the heart-fire.
One day, after Cheng Xinzhan had just finished shaking the bell, a thin thread of smoke seeped up from the ground before him, then congealed out of thin air into a tiny insect.
Cheng Xinzhan reached out; the little insect dropped into his palm and he tucked it into his bosom.