Beware Of Chicken v7c36: Sow the Seeds
Previously on Beware Of Chicken...
From the lofty heights above, Shen Yu gazed down upon the mortal realm. Encircling his figure, his Qi severed cleanly at its borders, ensuring his aura failed to drift toward his granddaughter. He held strong confidence that the method had succeeded; she hadn't spared a single glance his way as he monitored them through the Thousand-Li View.
Goodness, in his later years, he found himself turning increasingly voyeuristic! Almost matching the antics of that entertaining bee. Yet, it remained essential. His mere existence there would unsettle the balance. He yearned to observe their actions firsthand, all while keeping his surveillance hidden from their sight.
Initially, he had scouted the Ironfields—only to discover they had departed a full week prior to his arrival, revealing nothing of significance. No key insights emerged, except for a Qi concentration that wasn't utterly deplorable.
However, he had lent a partial ear to Tie Delun's words back at Jin’s dwelling—the young man merited that consideration. He had mentioned metallic deposits lurking just beneath the thin upper layer of soil.
Not the yielding, fertile earth one might expect.
Next, he tuned into the murmurs circulating. He uncovered the transformation sweeping the landscape; a colossal alteration that set everyone abuzz with tales of divine favor upon them.
That realization compelled him to witness Jin’s forthcoming endeavor up close. He needed to behold Jin operating in his element.
For an entire week, he tracked their labors; the ways they conversed with ordinary folk, the manner in which they etched channels across the lakebed to build a formation… and the way they channeled their Qi into the ground.
According to established wisdom, two core truths defined the world's essence.
The initial one stated that the collective power across each province stayed mostly constant, barring what experts had calculated as a very gradual dip in Qi density annually—so minimal that arguments persisted over whether Qi was genuinely diminishing, or if it stemmed merely from the exhaustion of the ripest and most potent spirit herbs.
On a finer scale within provinces, variations existed. Regions brimmed with dense or sparse Qi. Dragon Veins lay near the surface or buried deep. From time to time, across millennia, they shifted, birthing fresh natural Qi springs—and countless sects rose upon such sites. Yet the Qi persisted eternally, merely out of reach.
Likewise, mighty cultivators could redirect the world's Dragon Veins—though seldom did it prove worthwhile. Shifting the planet's foundational forces sparked enduring instabilities, sporadic surges of Qi, erratic changes in local flora and fauna… or the energy might withdraw altogether, depleting the region's Qi entirely.
Not even Xiaoshi, the famed Martyr from the Age of Heroes in the Azure Hills, had ever bolstered his Earth Spirit Companion’s potency. He had merely expedited drawing upon her Qi. The grand formation he devised, drawing from the Qi of millions under his rule, didn't enhance the Qi's purity; it simply enabled him to wield it in fortifying the protective veil over his territories.
The second truth held that Qi Wastes were voids. They formed an inherent aspect of this realm; bizarre, twisted zones incapable of generating Qi, forever devoid of life's vital breath, save for what they siphoned from the atmosphere and daring cultivators who braved their depths.
Nevertheless, right here and at this moment, he witnessed the so-called 'impossible'.
The realm vibrated with energy. Golden tendrils burrowed into the Qi emptiness beneath him, echoing the rhythm of pounding drums. The area's Qi throbbed, rebounded, and swirled in sync with the cadence, the formation's precise geometric harmony enhanced by the strategic incisions.
The ground's roots coiled and surged, unyieldingly extending into the shadowy void detected by Shen Yu’s perception.
It demanded an immense outpouring of energy. Power streamed in steadily from every part of the province. Immense torrents of force hurled into the abyss. Countless would deem it squandered. Many would argue it served better elsewhere; they’d assume channeling such vast might would inevitably weaken the one pouring it forth.
Yet that proved untrue.
With each passing day, the Qi appeared more vibrant. More lively. More insistent in probing the void at the lake's heart. The feeble, waning remnants of Qi in this Azure Hills section gained increasing vitality. Its essence elevated—free of distortions. Free of wild Qi eruptions. Like a lantern ascending on its flame, the world inhaled deeply.
Then, on the eighth day of Jin’s toil, a shift occurred. That eighth day marked the local mortals' summer celebration. Songs rang out, boat races thrilled, and fishing contests unfolded; they offered tributes to the mighty Pale Moon Lake. They expressed gratitude for her waters, beseeching her to temper her rebukes this year.
They offered prayers and danced, their rhythm deep and weighty, more fitting for miners than lake-dwellers. The world echoed with their joyous laughter and exuberant shouts.
And a murmur rode the wind.
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The invocations had strived to touch her. For endless years.
Countless millions had addressed her. They wailed to her. They bantered and chuckled with her. They reviled her title.
They understood her essence. She recognized each one. Friendship might have bound them. This domain could have belonged to her, as she to them.
She possessed a conviction. A calling.
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fractured. Tiny sparks of golden glow permeated the ruined remnants of a throne. It repelled the devouring emptiness. And at last, those convictions, those supplications saturating the soil… began to take root.
. The Pale Moon. The Lady of the Lake. Enduring. Benevolent. The nurturer of life; yet she harbored her own ire, her roars exploding in fierce tempests, chastising those who presumed upon her generosity or belittled her power.
Consciousness began to stir. The reveries and myths shaped her being. Turmoil should have reigned. Bewilderment ought to have followed. But instead... it felt correct.
She
The touch of a father's hand, tender despite his might, tousling her locks. The warmth of a mother's palm against her face, affectionate and soothing.
And the surrounding land, caressing her banks. The bedrock below, holding her softly even after the havoc her emergence had wrought.
“That doesn’t matter,” the earth answered. “You are a part of me now; and I cannot hate such a cute daughter. Thanks for taking care of everyone, all this time.”
The earth assembled all that defined her.
The shoreline folk's jubilant thanks for yet another bountiful season. The pleas for secure voyages. The playful oaths against rival hamlets, imploring her to unleash her gales and chide them fiercely.
Not mere survival… but.
Not just required… but
.[Sow the Seeds]
A nucleus embedded itself amid the lattice of faith, and millennia of recollection prompted the belated seed to bud.
A sharp intake of breath echoed. Atop a throne, a fresh being emerged. Youthful, yet timeless. Spawned from catastrophe—
Now revered as the redeemer of everyone dwelling by her waters.
===========================
As if shattering a cultivation barrier, the lake's Qi levels spasmed and cracked, then soared to new peaks. Its purity leaped forward. The golden tendrils grew smoother in an instant, weaving into the waters like flowing golden streams.
In spite of the energy expended, despite the deluge of Qi they had infused into the terrain… as Jin rose proudly next to Meiling, the radiant halo fading from their bodies, they appeared
The Earth Spirit underfoot had gained strength as well.
Tianlan… possessed potential for expansion. Possessed the ability to Qi voids.
Could she one day surpass even this realm? Was her prior boundary her limit? Or had her liberation unlocked further possibilities?
Shen Yu lacked answers. Drawing from a millennium of wisdom and his vast scholarly pursuits, this phenomenon stood
. And he sensed that Jin harbored similar uncertainties.He shut his eyes.
Make his own heaven.
Hope had initially halted him. A fervent yearning embodied in those words. Phrases that revealed to Shen Yu that Jin wasn't merely accepting demise passively. Utterances that proved his spirit endured unbroken, fueled by resolve and zeal against the world's cruelties.
Shen Yu didn't fully grasp the meaning of 'to craft his own heaven'. It held deep personal weight for Jin.
Above all, Shen Yu dreaded a life squandered. Not for the individual who had reignited his own purpose.
Learning of the Path of Shennong had plunged him into sorrow. Nonetheless, the technique's recorded explanation rang utterly false.
Jin had forsaken cultivation. Immortality held no appeal for him. His every statement and deed affirmed that.
Still, he pursued a purpose. He still for something, treading an uncharted trail. A trail that promised death at its close, indeed. But such verdicts echoed those leveled at Shen Yu’s personal approach. . A single loss spelled finality. A path of self-destruction—yet Shen Yu resolved to prevail regardless.
In Jin, Shen Yu recognized that unyielding determination. That fierce wish to embrace life according to his vision, dictating his destiny.
A Heaven manifested here. Did it signify elevating the province? Restoring the Azure Hills, followed by every other Qi Waste?
Achieving that would deliver the mightiest strike against demons since the Age of Heroes. A method to reclaim their ravages. To halt the world's gradual Qi hemorrhage.
Or perhaps his vision centered on forging an ideal haven for his kin, where his notion of “ideal” stretched so far beyond Shen Yu’s imagination it lay obscured beyond the skyline?
Shen Yu remained ignorant. Early on, he shied from seeking clarity, unsure if he could embrace the truth.
Yet now… he would inquire soon enough.
For the present, Shen Yu merely observed. He beheld the 'impossible' flourish beneath his grandson and allies' efforts, twisting and merging into the dawn of what lay ahead.
The abyss below receded in its brilliance.
Though, regarding wastes, he pondered Fengyan's reaction to their demonic origins? He entrusted that crystal to the Herald for delivery….
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Fengyan, Emperor of the Crimson Phoenix Continent, exhaled slowly. He wrapped up his duties for the day, leaving him leisure to delve into studies and cultivation.
He withdrew to his private garden, arranging his parchments and materials, debating his next focus, when a particular item drew his notice.
His Herald had presented the crystal originating from the Azure Hills; a token from Shen Yu, said to contain intriguing insights, though not flagged as pressing. Seldom did artifacts from the Azure Hills warrant his direct scrutiny, so curiosity stirred within him.
Settling on his choice, he grasped the crystal and infused it with his intent. It had been carefully prepared, yet bore uneven traces—he halted as a spectral form flickered to life before him. A memory crystal overseer—a benign entity, though this specimen looked weathered by time. Its gaze stretched wide, nearly frenzied, and it frayed at the edges.
Fengyan arched an eyebrow. Was this Shen Yu's jest? No, this Spirit hailed from antiquity. From the Age of Heroes.
The Spirit sparked and jittered. “All parameters met. Would you like to be the Emperor?” it inquired, with near-pleading urgency.
Fengyan lifted a brow, tilting his head slightly.
“I already am,” he answered.
The spirit thrust its fist skyward. “—uh?!” Its cry abruptly ceased. “ Emperor?!” it exclaimed, form humming erratically.
“I am the Crimson Phoenix Emperor. The Son of Heaven. Master of the Continent.”
The Spirit gaped vacantly. Its form deteriorated more.
“Already… … already…” it echoed in the identical despairing timbre, appearing utterly dejected. “The chik said… it’s true… am I to remain unfulfilled?” it wandered off briefly, eyes brimming with woe. It fell quiet for a beat, then resumed in a subdued murmur.
“Do… do you require—an advisor?”
It drooped toward the floor, defeated. A memory curator, an venerable advisory spirit from the Age of Heroes? Fengyan lacked one so aged. They were exceedingly scarce. What a splendid present from Shen Yu and Ge!
And should it prove valuable, all the more so!
“I am always in need of competent advisors,” he stated. And how true that rang? “Now, my friend said there was information in this crystal I needed to see?”
The spirit momentarily seemed on the verge of tears, its head jerking up to fix on Fengyan. Then, its posture aligned, hazy contours sharpening back to clarity.
“Yes, Your Majesty! Let this Shenguashi—ah, this one sees! The creation of Qi wastes by demonic means!” the crystal proclaimed.
Fengyan’s eyes widened.