Prologue

A proton is a subatomic particle with a positive charge. The number of protons in an atomic nucleus determines its chemical properties and which chemical element it belongs to. Atoms with different numbers of protons make up all matter in the real world, including energy.

A fertilized egg, as the most basic single cell, possesses incredible vitality. After countless divisions, even though the DNA double helix structure in every cell nucleus is exactly the same, they eventually develop into different tissues and organs—some become the brain, some nerves, some skin, some keratinized, some turn into dandruff and fall off, and through the food chain, are ultimately reduced to the most basic elements.

The Big Bang of the universe began from a singularity, one became two, two became three... endlessly, with complex evolution giving birth to all things in heaven and earth.

From then on, the torrent of time rolled toward the unknown.

Taoism says: Heaven evolves forty-nine, this is the one that escapes.

Buddhism says: The other shore.

Before reaching the end of everything, there exist infinite or limitless possibilities.

A seed takes root and sprouts, growing into a towering tree. Countless atoms make up a single cell, countless cells make up a leaf, a piece of bark, a branch, or a root—impossible to count.

The world seed, nourished by the torrent of time, grows into a tall and sturdy world tree, its lush branches and leaves constantly splitting and growing, over and over again.

Although it is hard to find two identical branches or leaves, in the endless worlds as numerous as the sands of the Ganges, beings of supreme wisdom, in a flash of insight, sense a fleeting déjà vu, catching a glimpse of the faint threads of fate in their own or others' destinies—perhaps a lowly beggar trampled by all, a peerless general vying for supremacy on the battlefield, a shrewd merchant, a shameless scoundrel, a greedy official, or a commanding emperor. Just like protons, just like DNA, they play out different lives in the infinite worlds.

It is precisely because of this tiny, unprovable something that wizards, priests, sages, sorcerers, and saints—those with all sorts of extraordinary titles—seem to search within themselves or their surroundings, eyes wide with unease, trying to steal a glimpse of heaven's secrets.

Section 1: I Am a Little Azure Dragon

"...I am a little azure dragon, I have many little secrets, I am a little azure dragon, I have many little secrets. I have so many secrets, but I won't tell you, I won't tell you, I won't tell you..."

Awakened by the ringtone and buzzing vibration of his phone, Abraham Lincoln opened his eyes, dazed for a moment, as if he had just had a long, strange dream. Out of habit, he reached out, and the flat, cold smartphone landed accurately in his palm.

The caller ID on the screen: Edward Carter.

The caller was the director of the Seventh Hospital, his direct superior, who loved to say "A real man doesn't speak twice" as a catchphrase—Edward Carter Brian Carter.

With a swipe of his finger, as soon as the call connected, Edward Carter's furious voice blasted through the phone.

"Abraham Lincoln, comrade, do you know what time it is? Do you still want this job? If you make us miss today's symposium, just hand in your resignation yourself!"

Bang! The call was hung up directly.

"Ah! The symposium? Oh no!"

Abraham Lincoln suddenly remembered that there was an important symposium today, hosted by the Seventh Hospital, with colleagues from the three eastern provinces and one city participating—an important event in the field of psychiatry and mental health.

If he made Edward Carter lose face, that old man definitely wouldn't spare him, and might even want to skin him alive.

The time on the phone screen was already 9:30 a.m. He hurriedly threw off the covers to get up, but suddenly froze, his eyes widening—there was a little azure snake coiled on his stomach.

A snake?

Wait... why does the snake have a little horn on its head? What kind of species is this?

"Hee hee!"

A woman's playful laughter sounded in his ear. Before Abraham Lincoln could figure out what was going on, the little azure snake suddenly shot up without warning, heading straight for his neck.

"Ah!"

...

The sudden "good morning" bite was certainly a shock, but the furious little azure flood dragon made Abraham Lincoln realize one thing.

It wasn't a dream, but a real experience.

He had just returned from another world.

From the frontier town of Xiyan in the Great Wu Dynasty, out of the demon realm, meeting the dragon maiden, entering Xiaolin Temple, repelling the demon tide, entering the Great Yellow Ridge, learning the Canglang Sword, then entering the imperial capital Tianjing of the Great Wu, reuniting with the Bai family father and daughter, accidentally helping Lady Xiangjun—who was disguised as the young lord of the Jingguo Duke's mansion, Deng Fang—seize the throne, scheming and struggling through the five palaces, seven sects, and thirteen schools of the Daoist arts, discovering the hidden threat of the Evil Heaven Cult, intercepting and defeating the Holy Court's eastern expedition army, and finally beating that outer-world evil god back to its home. Although the ending wasn't perfect, at least the world could enjoy peace for a while.

For a walking, human-shaped natural disaster like the great villain, it could be considered a job well done.