Chapter 15: The Inequality of Life
Su Mengyao sighed involuntarily as she spoke.
In the end, it all stemmed from human arrogance; though they claimed “all life is equal,” they knew better than anyone that life is inherently unequal.
This holds true even among humans themselves, let alone between humans and other species.
When rats, cockroaches, leopards, or tigers—those without talent—die under the natural law of “survival of the fittest,” no one cares, and neither do they.
But if a human without talent dies, that’s unacceptable.
Because value is unequal.
A rat that mutates is still a rat; a tiger that mutates is still a tiger—how can they compare to humans? Even ordinary humans without talent are considered superior.
So in their eyes, when an ordinary person dies at the hands of a mutated creature—even if that creature is killed—it’s still a tragedy.
But does the mutated creature’s own perspective matter?
“If that’s the case, then it makes sense.”
After hearing Su Mengyao’s explanation, Ye Xuan’s doubts dissolved, and he nodded.
Survival of the fittest—that’s a simple principle.
Qi has brought evolution to all life on Blue Planet, but only those with talent can evolve; those without talent have no right to evolve.
Naturally, these lifeforms without talent will die.
Whether killed by members of their own species due to weakness, or by predators, it may take time—but they will die.
But humans are different.
Humans have no natural predators on Blue Planet, and due to human order and rules, even ordinary people without talent are not killed by talented adepts.
But mutated creatures don’t understand this; their intelligence is insufficient to grasp humanity’s uniqueness.
So when their power grows strong enough, they begin hunting humans—and because ordinary humans are so numerous, the vast majority they kill are ordinary people.
Death becomes inevitable.
From the perspective of natural law, this is simply “survival of the fittest.”
Eliminate ordinary people without talent, preserve more talented adepts; through generations of culling, only those with talent remain.
But from the human perspective, this is a war between species—they absolutely will not allow mutated creatures to openly hunt humans and shatter human peace.
“But what is a Qi tide?”
Ye Xuan was puzzled.
Though novels mention the concept of Qi tides, they’re fiction; he had no idea how it was defined in the context of Earth.
“If the Qi revival that began three months ago merely introduced Qi to Blue Planet with low concentration, then a Qi tide is a sudden surge preceding a massive increase in Qi density.”
“I don’t know the specifics. Current technology cannot detect Qi’s origin or how a Qi tide manifests.”
“We can only confirm a Qi tide because someone in Tian Shu Bureau awakened a precognitive ability.”
Su Mengyao herself didn’t fully understand Qi tides—human technology couldn’t explain their cause.
They knew only because someone in Tian Shu Bureau had awakened a precognitive ability; in his vision, he saw the future arrival of a Qi tide—but he didn’t know when it would come.
He saw only fragments of that possibility.
“Precognition?!”
“Can precognition exist under dimensional invasion?”
If this world were merely a Qi revival world, he wouldn’t doubt the emergence of a precognitive adept.
But their world isn’t just Qi revival—it’s Qi revival combined with dimensional invasion, where creatures from human imagination have appeared in reality.
In such a case, every person who obtained a Celestial Artifact could alter the future; if someone’s artifact carried enough weight to influence the world’s course, the future would already be utterly unknown.
Under these conditions, how could a precognitive adept possibly exist?
“He only saw fragments of the future—and only one possibility among countless others.”
Su Mengyao understood Ye Xuan’s meaning and explained further.
In essence, precognition means seeing just one fragment among infinite possible futures.
They couldn’t use this ability to locate all Celestial Artifact holders or find the most gifted adepts—only to prepare in advance for future crises.
But that was enough for them.
At least, by preparing ahead, they could contain disasters to the minimum—though eliminating them entirely was impossible.
“Besides Master Zhong, does Great Xia have any other Celestial Artifact holders?”
Ye Xuan had learned nearly everything he wanted from Su Mengyao; the only thing left curious was this.
But he wasn’t particularly concerned—after all, with the [Celestial Fishing System], he gained a Celestial Artifact every month.
Given enough time, he would naturally become the strongest in this world.
He asked only out of simple curiosity.
When Su Mengyao heard Ye Xuan’s question, she didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she smiled faintly at him, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
Clearly, if he wanted the answer, he’d have to tell her the answer to her earlier question first.
Ye Xuan understood the implication in her expression and felt a flicker of helplessness.
“I obtained the Wangquan Hegemony template.”
Since he’d learned so much from Su Mengyao, he naturally honored their agreement and told her what she wanted to know.
But he didn’t mention he’d obtained the template as a youth, nor that his template differed from Master Zhong’s—he didn’t need to play a role to gain its full power.
Though he trusted Master Zhong, who had fused with the Zhongli template, he wouldn’t reveal too much of his strength until he could fully ignore all dangers on Blue Planet.
“So you’re a Celestial Role Template holder.”
Su Mengyao nodded in satisfaction; she preferred Ye Xuan having the Wangquan Hegemony template over the Wangquan Sword.
(End of Chapter)
End of Chapter
