Chapter 283: The Omnipotent Yin-Yang Fish

Chapter 283: Chapter 283: The Omnipotent Yin-Yang Fish

Creation and destruction are like two sides of the same coin.

Jiang Bai stood atop the highest cliff on Sea God Island, facing the ocean, his eyes closed in deep concentration.

The sea breeze howled, whipping at the hems of his robes as his black hair fluttered wildly in the wind. Behind him, the Nine-Colored Glazed Pagoda rotated slowly; nine hues of radiant light flowed across its surface, refracting a dreamlike halo under the sunlight.

He had just completed his Seventh Trial and had attained an epiphany regarding the Power of Creation. It was the power to bring life into existence—to create something out of nothing—and it constituted one half of the Dragon God’s true essence.

The other half was Destruction.

The Power of Destruction...

Jiang Bai opened his eyes and gazed out at the boundless ocean stretching into the distance.

The sea surface shimmered with dancing light, mirroring the azure sky and drifting white clouds above. Yet, he knew that beneath this placid exterior, treacherous undercurrents surged.

What, truly, was the Power of Destruction?

He asked himself this question deep within his heart.

Was it mere demolition? Was it slaughter? Was it death?

No—those were merely the outward manifestations of destruction, not its true essence.

Creation was the act of bringing something into existence from nothingness; destruction was the act of reducing something from existence back into nothingness.

He raised his right hand, and a cluster of golden light materialized in his palm—the Power of Creation.

The light was gentle and warm, brimming with infinite vitality. He could sense that the power contained within this luminous orb was capable of creating life and nurturing all manner of existence.

Then, he raised his left hand; his palm remained utterly empty.

How, then, was the Power of Destruction to be summoned?

He attempted to reverse the flow of the Power of Creation.

The golden light began to twist and distort, emitting erratic, unstable fluctuations.

He strove to stabilize those fluctuations, attempting to transmute them into a different form of power.

"Boom—!"

With a muffled thud, the golden light exploded outward, shattering into countless specks of starlight that swiftly dissipated into the air.

Jiang Bai withdrew his hand and fell silent for a moment.

That was not right.

Reversing the Power of Creation did not equate to destruction. That was merely the chaotic dissipation of energy—a loss of control—and not the power he sought.

He needed to uncover the true essence of destruction.

...

In the days that followed, Jiang Bai spent every day sitting in quiet meditation upon the cliff, facing the vast ocean and observing the natural world around him.

Massive waves surged violently, crashing fiercely against the reefs and sending white spray flying.

The reefs, scoured smooth as mirrors by the ceaseless washing, had their sharp edges worn down, their mass diminishing little by little.

Is this destruction?

Yes, and no.

The erosion of the waves is a slow, gradual form of ruin—yet it is not the essence of destruction itself.

Gales howled; branches snapped, and leaves drifted down. Old trees toppled, returning to the soil; new trees sprouted from that very earth, reaching ever upward toward the sunlight.

Destruction and creation are, in truth, two sides of the same coin.

The sun sets, and darkness descends; the moon rises, casting its gentle, silvery glow.

Darkness is not destruction, but merely another form of existence.

The tide rises, submerging the sandy shore; it recedes, revealing the reefs once more.

Spring brings birth, summer growth; autumn brings harvest, and winter, dormancy. All things, in their growth, move toward decay; and within that decay, they harbor the seeds of new life.

Jiang Bai closed his eyes, and within his mind’s eye, the image of the Taiji—the Yin-Yang symbol—naturally took shape.

Creation is Yang; destruction is Yin. They give birth to one another, cycling endlessly without cease.

There is no such thing as pure creation, nor pure destruction. They are but two facets of the very same phenomenon.

He opened his eyes and raised his hands once more.

In his right hand, the power of creation gathered—a golden radiance, warm and gentle.

In his left hand, he attempted to summon the power of destruction.

This time, rather than attempting to reverse the flow of creation, he approached the task from a different angle—seeking the antithesis of "existence" within the realm of "nothingness."

Destruction is the act of reducing that which exists back into nothingness.

He envisioned a tree.

From the sprouting of a seed to the seedling breaking through the soil; from lush, spreading branches to the blossoming of flowers and the bearing of fruit; from withering and decay to the final return to the earth.

It was a complete cycle.

Creation is the journey from seed to tree.

Destruction is the journey from tree back to soil.

Yet, the soil is not nothingness; it serves to nurture new seeds.

True destruction is an absolute, irreversible return to utter nothingness.

He envisioned a single point. That point existed—and then, it vanished. Leaving behind no trace, no residue, and undergoing no transformation. From existence to non-existence—an absolute, pure "nothingness."

That is the true essence of destruction.

In the palm of Jiang Bai’s left hand, a wisp of black light began to emerge.

The light was faint—almost transparent—yet it harbored an aura that made the heart tremble. It evoked neither fear nor oppression, but rather a sense of utter emptiness.

An emptiness that seemed capable of devouring all things.

The black light grew steadily denser, steadily deeper. It was no longer transparent, but a pure, absolute blackness. This was not the blackness of an absence of light, but rather the blackness of absorbing all light.

Gazing at the black light in his palm, a flicker of sudden realization flashed through Jiang Bai’s eyes.

This was the Power of Annihilation.

Not mere destruction, nor slaughter, but a return to absolute void.

He raised his left hand and gently pushed it toward the sea.

A pillar of black light shot forth from his palm—soundless, devoid of any roar or explosion. Wherever the light pillar passed, the very air seemed to be devoured, and all light seemed to be absorbed.

It struck the surface of the sea.

The instant the seawater came into contact with the black pillar, it vanished. It was neither evaporated nor pushed aside; it simply ceased to exist.

A circular depression, several meters in diameter, appeared on the sea’s surface. Its edges were smooth as a mirror, as if a section of the ocean had been scooped out.

A moment later, the surrounding seawater surged in to fill the void. Yet Jiang Bai knew that this water was not the original water.

The original water had been utterly erased.

Jiang Bai withdrew his hand, gazing at the wisp of black light in his palm as a complex emotion welled up within him.

This was the Power of Annihilation: from existence to non-existence—a return to the void.

He closed his eyes, sensing the nascent power stirring within his body. It was starkly different from the Power of Creation, yet it resonated with it in perfect harmony. Like Yin and Yang, like light and shadow, like birth and death.

They were not opposing forces, but complementary ones.

Without creation, destruction is meaningless. Without destruction, creation cannot even begin to exist.

...

Time passed, day by day.

Aside from spending time in intimacy with Bi Ji, Shui Bing’er, Jiang Li’er, and Ye Lingling each day, Jiang Bai devoted the majority of his time to cultivating upon the cliffside, seeking to fully comprehend the Power of Destruction.

He no longer merely sat in meditation; instead, he began attempting to combine the power of destruction with the power of creation.

First, he gathered the power of creation to bring forth a flower.

Amidst a golden glow, a small, pale-blue flower blossomed in the palm of his hand; its petals were delicate, exuding a faint, fresh fragrance.

Then, he gathered the power of destruction, and a black radiance enveloped the flower.

The petals began to wither, their color fading; the leaves curled inward, and the stem shriveled. Finally, the entire flower dissolved into a wisp of smoke, vanishing into the air.

This was destruction.

He created another flower. This time, rather than using the power of destruction to obliterate it outright, he channeled both forces into the flower simultaneously.

Golden light and black light intertwined, flowing through the flower. Its petals wavered between blooming and withering, while its leaves cycled endlessly between growth and decay.

The flower neither vanished nor stabilized. It hovered on the precipice between life and death—neither truly alive nor truly dead.

Jiang Bai frowned.

It was not enough.

He needed to find a balance.

Not a balance between life and death, but a coexistence between creation and destruction. They were two sides of the same coin—not opposing forces, but a unified whole.

He closed his eyes, and the image of the Dragon God rose within his mind.

Although the Dragon God had once reigned supreme above all other Gods, he had not been born perfect.

The Dragon God’s Divinity of Creation and Divinity of Destruction were not powers he had cultivated himself; rather, he had forcibly wrested them from two other God Kings who stood as his equals.

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