West Niu He Continent, San Shui Xiang.
Though this place had "water" in its name, it was actually a desolate wilderness.
Parched hills and deep valleys, their shapes bizarre and twisted, as if crushed thousands of times.
As far as the eye could see, there was only black, dried earth—a scene of utter death.
Sometimes place names, besides describing appearance, carried other meanings.
For example, lacking something might lead to naming after it—like children lacking something in their five elements having it added to their name.
Of course, some had already given up and started self-mockery in their naming.
Such was San Shui Xiang—three drops of water landing here would echo throughout the entire region.
This place was incomparably parched, spiritual energy even more scarce.
From the dried earth, suddenly soil began to gather and rise.
In just moments, it formed three humanoid creatures.
Their skin was slightly dark, their eyes slanted, their pupils crimson, their limbs elongated.
One was slightly hunched, appearing somewhat withered.
One stood straight and tall, with a solemn expression.
The last had an alluring figure, her posture enchanting, and even her casual movements seemed to possess countless charms.
Even though she didn't look quite human at this moment.
But some allure came from the bones—it was in subconscious movements, in subconscious tones.
Like that saying—true beauty lies in the bones.
The woman raised her head slightly, gazing at the blazing sun in the sky, and let out a soft sigh:
"Long time no see..."
Her voice was soft and beautiful, sounding somewhat like a murmur, yet didn't feel affected.
The young man's gaze swept over, paying no attention to the woman's sigh.
His tone was somewhat heavy as he said:
"We've been discovered. Xuan Qing Tian Sect is searching for us like madmen."
The old man nodded gently: "Naturally... who doesn't know the Xuan Qing Tian Sect of back then? But today's Xuan Qing Tian Sect is no longer what it was."
"Now the eighteen immortal gates each have their own territories. His Xuan Qing Tian Sect's turf doesn't have our people, and he wants to extend his reach elsewhere—he has to ask if the other immortal gates will agree."
"They were the victors, so naturally they've forgotten the pain from back then."
"But we haven't. We've been in pain for thousands of years... I've had enough of living in those broken places."
The old man's crimson gaze lifted: "We didn't die out completely, so naturally we've learned to be clever. They grow, and so do we."
"But the time isn't right yet. First, throw out some small bait, let them have a taste."
The young man hesitated slightly: "Will they detect our purpose from that bait?"
"You're still as stupid as ever." The woman raised her hand slightly to shield herself from the fierce sun, chuckled softly, and said in a gentle voice,
"Fishing requires a rod. Casting the hook depends on the rod, not your face. If the hook sinks to the bottom, just cut the line—do you really need to go down and live or die with the hook?"
"I don't see you living or dying with your own kind, yet you're so attached to humanity? Is it that you've been abused so much you've grown addicted, and can't leave without itching?"
The young man's eyes revealed barely contained anger.
He frowned, staring dead at the woman, his fists clenched tight, as if he might strike her at any moment.
"Chi Li, speak properly!" The old man's tone was steady, but traces of anger could still be heard. "Do you want to stay here for another few thousand years?"
The woman snorted softly in response, her gaze once again drifting leisurely to that blazing hot sun.
As if she loved it dearly.
The young man took two deep breaths and slowly unclenched his fists.
The old man turned his gaze to the young man with a gratified expression:
"We are weak now—unity is the only way forward."
The woman continued looking at the sun, only the young man nodded heavily twice.
The old man's gaze turned to the woman, then calmly spoke:
"Though we lost to humans back then, it would be more accurate to say we lost to the Dao. But this time is different."
The woman seemed to sense something, turning her gaze over.
Her eyes instantly grew fervent.
The old man produced a brilliant transparent crystal in his hand, within which a thread of pure white light circulated.
The old man spoke firmly: "The heavenly mandate has collapsed! Fortune has scattered and remains unclaimed! This time! Nothing can help humanity anymore!"
The woman's voice grew even softer: "In that case... just give your orders, and I will obey completely."
"Throw them into chaos."
As the old man's words fell, his figure instantly collapsed, transforming back into dried earth and returning to the ground.
Seeing the old man leave, the young man had no interest in conversing with the woman either—his form also instantly dissolved into earth and vanished.
Seeing the two depart, the woman's gaze turned back to the sun.
Such a blazingly hot sun.
If only she could stand here forever.
Unfortunately...
But just a little more patience.
Wait until all the humans are dead, and it will be fine.
Moments later, this place was silent once more.
San Shui Xiang was still San Shui Xiang—a place where three drops of water could echo throughout.
————————
Chu Xingchen sat on an old ferry boat, watching the elderly boatman struggling to pole through a river completely black with filth.
The old man gazed at the gradually clearer black continent in the distance, at the mere traces of green, and his wrinkled face finally showed a smile.
He panted as he said:
"Sir, past this Filth River, ahead lies West Niu He Continent."
"Mm... truly unique. Hearing about it doesn't compare to seeing it."
Chu Xingchen looked at the desolate land before him and remarked with a sigh.
He had traveled quite a few places, and had heard that West Niu He Continent was the most desolate of the five continents.
Fewest people, fewest cultivators, most barren spiritual energy.
Monsters roamed freely, ghosts and strange beings paraded openly.
Chu Xingchen had assumed these things had a lower limit.
After all, even though West Niu He Continent was this desolate, it had still been cleanly divided up by the eighteen immortal gates.
This place was also the foundation of the Buddhist sect.
Logically speaking, for the eighteen immortal gates to manage some monsters shouldn't be difficult—it was just a matter of wanting to or not.
If put in more utilitarian terms: was it worth it?
Clearly, most of West Niu He Continent wasn't worth it.
The old man didn't understand these words.
He had spent his entire life ferrying on this river—perhaps he was lucky.
The monsters hidden in this river had devoured countless people, yet never him.
That wasn't quite accurate either—monsters had given him trouble before, but they couldn't defeat the passengers on his boat.
West Niu He Continent was desolate to the extreme, and monsters truly didn't spit out bones when eating people.
What normal good person would go rushing to do good deeds, delivering themselves to fill monsters' bellies?
Naturally, such people weren't nonexistent—after all, with many people came all kinds.
The old man was simply lucky—either he was safe and sound, or he had distinguished passengers.
When the old man was young, he had no choice—starvation was right before his eyes, while being eaten was just a probability.
But ferrying became many years of his life.
In middle age, he had wanted to quit, but what else could he do?
The jobs requiring strength were all taken.
All that remained were the life-risking jobs nobody wanted.
In old age, though he remained afraid, for him, he'd already lived a full life.
The shore drew closer.
The old man suddenly spoke: "Sir, though you may have vast powers, West Niu He Continent is full of dangers. It's not just monsters—other continent people say West Niu He Continent is full of savages."
"Other continents?" Chu Xingchen looked at the old man with curiosity: "Might I ask if the boatman is also from West Niu He Continent?"
"Yes, a savage who fled from West Niu He Continent because I couldn't eat my fill."
The old man readily agreed, slowly bringing the boat to shore: "Sir, just be careful."
Chu Xingchen smiled and nodded, while taking out a silver ingot to pay the fare.
"The extra is a tip."
The old man showed surprise and hurriedly thanked him: "Thank you, Sir."
Chu Xingchen nodded gently in acknowledgment, then stepped off the boat.
Where the old man couldn't see, a transparent embroidery needle flew from the black water's edge back into Chu Xingchen's hand.
The old man looked delighted—his whole life had been risking everything for silver.
Meeting such a generous Sir now, how could he not be happy?
He hurriedly stowed the silver, his gaze turning to that distant shore.
For the old man, arriving didn't mean the job was done.
Getting back safely was what counted—after all, silver didn't fly itself back to his family's hands.
He quickly raised his pole again, maneuvering the boat away from shore.
Moments later, the old man rubbed his eyes.
From the black river, suddenly blood bubbles surged upward.
The old man was terrified, frantically working the boat, and made it back home safe and sound.
But afterward, that river stayed quiet for many years.
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