Meanwhile, hundreds of millions of kilometers away, on the swirling, storm-ravaged surface of Jupiter, the Heart Clone guided the family through the gas giant's turbulent atmosphere.
Shielded by his power, they floated safely amid colossal tornadoes larger than entire nations on Earth, watching lightning the size of continents flash through endless clouds of hydrogen and helium.
The family had already explored Mercury's scorched plains, Venus's crushing pressure and acid rains, Mars's red dunes and ancient canyons—collecting small blue stones, glowing red rocks, and other souvenirs from each Planet as mementos of their impossible journey.
But how could they travel so fast when the Abode of the Sky's maximum space jump was only 5,000 km every second?
The answer was simple and elegant: they weren't taking the long, winding detours that human scientists and spacecraft were forced to follow.
Humanity's had to use complicated trajectories: gravity assists from planets, Hohmann transfer orbits, slingshot maneuvers, and years of careful planning to conserve fuel and slowly build speed.
These paths were never straight lines; they curved, looped, and spiraled across the solar system, turning what could be a short distance into a multi-year journey.
The Abode of the Sky, however, did none of that.
Under the Heart Clone's control, the fortress ignored all those limitations.
It flew in perfect straight lines—direct, point-to-point paths through space.
They weren't orbiting, slingshotting, or conserving energy.
They were cutting straight through the solar system like a needle through silk.
That was the difference between human space travel and a fortress powered by a cultivator who had mastered space itself.
No detours.
No delays.
Just direct, unhindered progress toward whatever destination they desired.
Jupiter, however, offered no solid ground or keepsakes, so the Heart Clone had compressed one of its massive cyclones into a perfect, stable space pearl—a tiny, swirling storm trapped forever in crystal—for them to keep as a memory.
As they prepared to move on, the Heart Clone suddenly turned his gaze back toward Earth, his expression became thoughtful.
"So Xinxuan was the first one to open the letter," he murmured quietly to himself. "Let's talk with him first."
With a subtle shift of will, he activated the connection through the golden-glowing page held in Xinxuan's hands and drew the young man's consciousness into a dream world of his own making—though fully under the Heart Clone's control.
The dream world was Xinxuan's own mindscape, shaped by his thoughts and fears, but the Heart Clone could reshape it at will.
Seeing Xinxuan's panic begin to spiral into chaos, the Heart Clone spoke once more, voice calm and steady.
"Do not fear. I am also a human, just like you. Neither a god nor a demon."
With those words, Ankit's figure appeared before Xinxuan—tall, dressed in pure white loose robes, long black hair tied behind his back with a few strands falling gently over his shoulders.
Xinxuan's eyes widened first in surprise, then in visible relief.
So it was a fellow human… he wasn't alone in this strange place after all.
He stepped closer, scrutinizing Ankit from head to toe as he approached.
He was stunned.
Ankit was even taller than him—approaching seven feet, with a perfectly proportioned, fit build that radiated effortless power and grace.
His face was breathtakingly handsome—features so refined and symmetrical that even the world's top actors and models would pale in comparison.
Xinxuan himself was considered exceptionally handsome, tall at nearly 6'7" with a strong, athletic frame, yet standing beside this figure, he felt… ordinary.
He noticed the simple elegance of Ankit's attire—pure white, loose, almost no accessories—yet somehow more regal than any royal robe.
Xinxuan came to stand beside him and asked, voice still shaky but calmer now.
"Sir… do you know where this place is? And why are we here?"
The Heart Clone—manifested as Ankit—looked at him with quiet warmth and spoke a single word, soft but resonant.
"Dream."
Xinxuan blinked, confused.
Dream?
So… he was dreaming?
But how? He had been perfectly awake, holding the letter, when everything went blank.
He pinched himself hard, hoping to wake up.
Pain flared across his arm, sharp and real, but the world around him did not fade.
He glanced back at the figure, hoping for an answer.
The Heart Clone met his gaze calmly.
"Yes, this is your dream world. Because of your thoughts, this place was changing—clouds turning red, thunder appearing, shapes forming from your fears. You don't have to worry about it being hell or heaven. But you can't get out of here because…"
He paused, letting the silence stretch just long enough for Xinxuan to lean in, ears perked.
"…because I want to talk to you."
Hearing this, Xinxuan was confused—why did this person want to talk to him specifically, and who was he anyway? He had first thought this figure was just another part of his dream, something his mind had conjured up, but the calm in the voice and the way this person is so life like proved otherwise. How could someone else enter his own dream like this?
Then a daring idea flashed through his overthinking mind.
He remembered a plot from one of the novels he had read years ago, where the main character discovered a powerful, mysterious teacher living inside his own mind, guiding him step by step to become impossibly strong.
This could be it—his own fateful encounter, the hidden opportunity every protagonist seemed to stumble upon.
Realizing this, excitement surged through him, washing away most of his earlier fear and regret.
He immediately straightened his posture, voice trembling slightly with anticipation but filled with determination as he spoke in a respectful yet eager tone.
"Sir… you want to take me as your disciple, right? I am 100% ready!"