Outside the material world, time's secrets come naturally; who among mortals plumbs the depths of life and death?
This body was never truly mine; once divested of the human shell, I become a ghost god.
Golden radiance surges, nearly exhausting all of Jiang Hu's True Yang…
This is his Talisman—also the reflection of his life: heavy sin upon his soul, cast into a wicked ghost, yet within his heart dwells the Dao, striving toward Immortal Gods.
In life, there is no pure black or white; there are petty pursuits, and also radiant grandeur.
That shadowy blur of black and white envelopes me alone—who can say I do not belong amidst them?
Drop by drop, all converges here; it is like the boundless Heavenly Dao: whether good or evil, righteous or wicked… all are part of its wholeness.
No distinction, no fondness or aversion, letting things flow as they will, manifesting as fate decrees.
The true self is sole and sovereign; I command the Ghost Gods by name!
