Chapter 220: Matters to Discuss

Zhou Yi gazed at the Honghuang world just within reach, then turned and rushed toward the Fire Cloud Cave beyond the Thirty-Three Heavens.

As his robes fluttered, he clenched his fist and resolved silently: "Even if attaining Dao and becoming a Saint is hard, I'll still take a gamble."

In this realm, one who fails to become a Saint remains a mere ant, never even qualifying to stand equal with the great beings. Only by crossing this heavenly trench can one earn the right to wrestle with Hongyuan Dao Ancestor and even the Heavenly Dao's rules.

The deep meaning of the Chaos Bell's alliance with him was clear to Zhou Yi. This innate treasure is shrewd; if he fails to attain Dao, Zhong Ling will have only lost a favor.

If he luckily succeeds, he can enjoy the Human Race's boundless fortune. No wonder when Tongtian Jiaozhu tried to capture it, the treasure pretended deaf and mute and fled.

Returning to the secret Fire Cloud Cave, Zhou Yi counted on his fingers and found that the journey through the Chaos Sea had actually consumed over a thousand years.

Fortunately, the Honghuang lands remained oddly tranquil during those years; the Human Race's population surged steadily, while the Western Sect oddly stayed completely still.

The back‑hand he had laid for the Six Realms of Reincarnation now seems wasted.

The cave has no sun or moon; in an instant another nine‑thousand years of spring and autumn passed. When Zhou Yi opened his eyes again, the Human Race was already unrecognizable.

Tribal populations across Honghuang broke the hundred‑billion mark, truly becoming the protagonists of Heaven and Earth.

Watching the flourishing scene, he brushed the faintly trembling Chaos Bell at his waist, knowing the decisive moment was near.

Over these ten thousand years the Human Race has produced a flood of talent; though no one yet rivals a Saint, the top combat power has doubled.

In fact, if Zhou Yi hadn't deliberately hoarded resources and stopped smashing treasures, the number of masters could have kept rising.

Now more than four hundred top‑tier strongmen hold the field; all the myriad tribes of Honghuang must give them way.

Mid‑tier power sprouts like bamboo after rain; Golden Immortal Taiyi run the streets, about to cement their place as the protagonists of Heaven and Earth.

But the more people there are, the easier trouble arises; disputes over territory and brawls break out every few days.

The days when Zhou Yi was worshipped as a deity are long past; now the new generation hears the title "Human Race Co‑Leader" as if listening to mythic tales.

Even the Zhetian Imperial Method that underpins the Human Race's cultivation system is remembered by few juniors as Zhou Yi's creation.

This situation suits Zhou Yi's plan perfectly; the farther he and Sui Huang, the old ancestors, fade from view, the Dao Ancestor upstairs can sleep soundly.

If you're being serious, you can hold an annual ancestral‑worship ceremony—how could anyone forget it completely?

That day the Fire Cloud Cave was suddenly lit by chaotic rays of sunrise, hundreds of rainbow bridges thrust into the Honghuang lands.

Before the onlookers could react, the leaders of the various Human Race tribes, as if pre‑arranged, marched with tens of thousands of Golden Immortals toward the Thirty‑Three Heavens.

When the cave's great gate opened, Zhou Yi stood with his arms crossed. Below, a sea of bowed figures knelt in darkness, and the leading man's eyes reddened: "We salute the Human Ancestor!"

"The ten‑thousand‑year pact we made back then has arrived," Zhou Yi scanned the familiar faces of his old subordinates, "Those who leave now turn away; those who stay must prepare for secluded, arduous cultivation."

"All four armies of Wind‑Forest, Fire‑Mountain are present!" A thunderous roar shook the cave, "We swear to follow to death!"

More than four hundred Great Luo Golden Immortals brandished their weapons, their cold light making the Fire Cloud Cave bright as day.

The crowd inside the cave did not stir; hundreds of blazing eyes locked onto Zhou Yi, the reverence in their bones etched like a mark in their bloodlines.

Young successors who never witnessed the early ancestors' hardships could never imagine how fanatically the forebears worshipped this progenitor; it was Zhou Yi's rally that made countless clans willingly walk through fire, and a single word of his could rewrite the fate of the entire race.

"Excellent! From now on you will cultivate with me, sever the ties of the past, and open a new world for the Human Race."

Zhou Yi's gaze swept over those weathered faces.

The decision made ten thousand years ago changed the destiny of the Human Race.

Zhou Yi appointed these cultivators as tribal leaders, guiding their people to migrate across Honghuang.

It was their guarding the eight directions that upheld the Human Race's foothold in the perilous Honghuang.

The promised ten‑thousand‑year term has arrived; when Zhou Yi gathered everyone to return to the Fire Cloud Cave, those former power‑holders showed not a hint of lingering attachment. They shed their crowns cleanly, as if discarding an old garment.

Zhou Yi knew these tempered souls would become the Human Race's hidden blades, the ultimate trump card against the Heavenly Dao.

Yet as this core force retreats, the legends about him will fade a little more.

In another few ten‑thousands of years, perhaps even a three‑year‑old won't remember that the forgotten progenitor once lifted the entire Human Race.

The Heavenly Dao master always loves this kind of joke. Those who forged brilliance end up as dust in the annals.

"It's time to visit the Nv Wa Palace," Zhou Yi thought.

He plans to transfer this elite group to the Gou Chen Star deep within the Chaos Sea, since the Fire Cloud Cave sits too close to the Heavenly Dao's ears and eyes.

However, that star has deep ties with the Nv Wa Saint, and without her approval it remains a hidden risk.

In front of the Nv Wa Palace beyond the Thirty‑Three Heavens, Ling Zhuzi had already been hopping on the steps, eyes bright. Seeing the familiar figure, the boy spun around excitedly: "Yi Ge'er, you finally made it! Quickly tell me what the new Human Race market candy‑people look like!"

The two walked together to the Nv Wa Palace; at the end of the azure jade steps the cloud‑patterned Hall gate slowly opened.

Ling Zhuzi led Zhou Yi into the side hall where they had met before, and Nüwa Lady was already waiting inside.

After the blue‑clad boy bowed and stepped back, Zhou Yi was about to speak when the beauty reclining on the cloud couch lifted her pale wrist: "I thought you should have come seeking me a thousand years ago, but you've held your composure longer than I expected."

Light purple eye‑shadow framed her swirling gaze, her fingertips toyed with the blue smoke drifting from a bronze incense burner.

Zhou Yi felt a slight stir in his heart, yet smiled and bowed: "Your divine foresight saves me a lot of words, Lady."

"Don't try to sweet‑talk me," Nüwa hummed, sitting up, silver bells on her wrists chiming crisply, "Back then you alone braved the Chaos Sea to chase that slippery Great Peng Bird, and discovered Gou Chen Star was inevitable. To endure ten thousand years without coming to demand an explanation makes me respect you even more."

Those words fully confirmed Zhou Yi's suspicion. The Saint's scheme was indeed far‑reaching; perhaps when he first set foot on that star, the Demon Race's ancestral spirit had already sensed him.

"Since the Lady left a retreat for the Demon Race, how could a junior dare act rashly?" Zhou Yi settled onto the straw mat, and an immortal peach rolled automatically to his hand, "This time we truly have matters to discuss."

Nüwa's bright white fingertips traced the star map on the table, and the spot of Gou Chen Star suddenly flared: "That place is merely a legacy site for the Demon Race's incense‑fire lineage, it won't stir any waves. Now the Human Race's time has come, speak—what are you plotting?"

Zhou Yi pressed the peach pit, pondered briefly, and laid out his plan to cultivate Human Race cultivators. The hall's clouds suddenly stilled, the star map flickered on and off.

"As long as we don't damage the Demon Race's foundation…" Nüwa laughed lightly, breaking the silence, her jade fingers tapping the table, and the star projection morphed into a diagram of myriad demons paying homage, "You do know how to pick a spot—borrowing the Demon Race's sacred land to train troops, you'll later have to tempt the Heavenly Court's cheese, won't you?"