Chapter 1307

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Protagonist:

Xu Zhangqing

Dao Venerate?

Xu Zhangqing's pupils shrank.

The instant this title came from Zhang Daoxuan's mouth, he felt his heart clench as if seized by something.

This young man before him is the future Master?

Or rather, is it because of myself that he became the Dao Venerate?

"What?"

Zhang Daoxuan smiled, completely unaware of the weight of these words.

He simply felt that a person should have dreams.

In this current era, gods, demons, and yaos fill the Zhutian Wan Jie.

Especially the god and demon races, who have always stood high above.

Humans are weak; to survive they can only worship gods.

For example, mortals pray for rain, and the Rain God raises a hand — sweet dew falls.

This tangible, visible protection is far more real than the ethereal, intangible "Great Dao."

Who would abandon an efficacious god to cultivate that unreachable immortality?

Therefore in this era, most cultivators are also followers of some god.

However, gods never care about humans; they only value faith.

Insufficient faith means humans are disrespectful, and they must suffer divine punishment.

Death, sacrifice — these are all too common.

As for demons, they don't even treat humans as human; they treat them as "food."

When hungry, they come out for a round of hunting.

Forced by circumstances, humans can only revere gods even more.

Therefore here, cultivators are not only a minority, but outliers among outliers.

Xu Zhangqing recovered from his shock and said in a deep voice: "I just feel that we've only just started cultivating — aren't you thinking too far ahead?"

Zhang Daoxuan didn't think so: "A person must have a goal.

Otherwise, what difference is there from those pigs, dogs, cattle, and sheep offered as sacrifices?"

As these words fell, Xu Zhangqing looked at him with a face full of shock and doubt.

He could not believe that this vibrant young man before him would become the future Dao Venerate who suppresses the Zhutian Wan Jie, controls the Floating World Four Domains, and commands the long river of time.

"Brother Jiang, why do you cultivate?"

"I... seek longevity."

"Longevity?"

"And you?"

"I cultivate to break free from the exploitation of gods and demons!"

"You want to challenge gods and demons?"

"Humans are the spirit of all things; they should not have this kind of status!"

After the chat, Zhang Daoxuan left, saying he had other matters to attend to.

Xu Zhangqing sat alone on the stone beach, listening to the other's footsteps gradually fade away, until they were completely swallowed by the low hum of stream water washing over gravel.

He did not rush to rise; instead he fell silent for a long time.

A cultivator, and one who had only just entered the sect not long ago, with such a grand vision.

It sounds like boasting.

But Xu Zhangqing knew the other had indeed done it.

He took a deep breath, and the chaotic thoughts in his mind began to settle bit by bit.

His name is Jiang Yuan, a cultivator who follows the Green Emperor's footsteps and swore to taste a hundred herbs, one of the most ordinary disciples under Primordial Dao Ancestor.

But this name left no record whatsoever in Xu Zhangqing's era.

He does not know why he transmigrated into this body.

He only knows that at the moment he touched that mysterious woman, he seemed to have been swallowed by chaotic time currents.

The only thing he can confirm now is that the current time node should be the Primordial Period where Primordial Dao Ancestor resides.

According to the classics, the history of the Zhutian Wan Jie is roughly divided into four stages.

Primordial Period: Primordial Dao Ancestor founded the Dao Gate, transmitted the Immortal Dao, led humans to survive in the cracks between gods and demons — this was the golden age when the myriad gods still existed.

Remote Ancient Period: gods, demons, and immortals fought a three-way melee; the Great Dao collapsed; the myriad gods fell; the demon race was destroyed; immortals vanished without trace; God Path Fragments scattered to every corner of the Zhutian Wan Jie.

Ancient Period: human cultivators absorbed the God Path legacy, awakened divine abilities, Dharma Aspects, deities, etc.; humans and yaos fought a melee for dominance.

Then comes the era where Xu Zhangqing was born, cultivated, and grew up.

In that era, human cultivators filled the Zhutian Wan Jie, becoming the absolute main force.

But this prosperity did not last too long; Outer Realm evil forces began to infiltrate, and the Zhutian Wan Jie faced calamity once again.

In other words, Xu Zhangqing stands at the starting point of all cause and effect.

He personally witnessed Primordial Dao Ancestor expounding the Dao.

He saw Zhang Daoxuan, who had not yet become a Great Dao Venerable.

He saw the young man who would later become the Main God, Immortal Venerable, and Demon Ancestor.

Right now they were nothing at all, listening to the same Dao Ancestor preach the Dao, each pondering their own distinct karma.

This kind of experience was too strange.

Xu Changqing clearly knew the endings of most people, yet could only sit here watching them walk toward their own dead ends.

The Great Dao Venerable had said, the past cannot be changed.

Any attempt to rewrite the past is merely casting a stone into the long river of time; where the ripples reach, they overturn in an instant.

Having thought it through, Xu Changqing stood up and walked downstream along the stream.

He had not gone far when a tribe of no great scale appeared ahead.

Calling it a tribe, in reality it was just several dozen huts built of coarse wood and dry grass, surrounding a rammed-earth altar that stood slightly above the ground.

On the altar stood a stone statue.

The statue's face had been eroded by wind and rain until it was blurred beyond recognition.

But the outline could be discerned: a male deity holding a long spear, treading on waves.

One would think it should be some minor god in charge of rivers or rain.

The distribution of deities in this era was extremely vast; besides the Main Gods corresponding to the Eleven Origins, there were also a large number of such minor gods who grasped only one or two laws.

The range their divine power covered was merely a hundred li in radius — not worth mentioning to a Main God.

But for mortals, it was enough to decide an entire year's harvest and life or death.

"A Gu, what's wrong with you?"

"It hurts, my stomach hurts so much!"

"Told you not to eat things randomly, you just wouldn't listen!"

Xu Changqing had just walked into the tribe when he heard noisy voices.

He followed the sound and saw a middle-aged man lying on a grass mat, his complexion livid, lips blackened, bean-sized beads of sweat continuously seeping from his forehead.

The man clutched his abdomen with both hands; every breath carried a heavy wheeze squeezed from deep in his throat.

Beside him, not only his wife and two children were gathered, but also a large number of tribe members.

These people knelt on the ground, facing the direction of the altar and repeatedly kowtowing, their mouths chanting the same name over and over: "Xi Bo!"

That is the minor god this tribe enshrines and worships.

However, from beginning to end He did not have the slightest reaction.

A mere mortal is fundamentally not worth a "god" making a move.

To put it bluntly, dead is dead.

Xu Changqing lowered his head and glanced at the chewed-up stem and leaf remnants beside the grass mat, recognizing at a glance what spirit plant it was.

Black Poison Grass.

A poisonous grass easily mistaken for an edible wild vegetable in the wild.

Its stems and leaves are extremely similar to wild vegetables, but the leaf undersides have extremely fine black veins; its sap contains violent poison — if ingested by mistake the poisonous qi strikes straight at the heart meridians; light cases vomit and diarrhea, heavy cases perish within days.

In his own "Hundred Grasses Record," a full page is used to record the identification method and antidote formula for this poison grass.

"The god won't save him, I will!"

Xu Changqing did not think twice; he decisively crouched down and took out a stalk of Silver Thread Grass from his bosom.

This spirit plant grows only by streams; its leaf fronts are emerald green, the undersides have an extremely fine silver vein — precisely able to neutralize Black Poison Grass's toxicity.

Immediately after, he crushed the Silver Thread Grass leaves in his palm, squeezed out some juice, and then dripped it into the man's mouth.

In less than a moment, the other's breathing gradually steadied.

The livid complexion began to recover color bit by bit.

The black on the lips also faded at a speed visible to the naked eye.

He slowly opened his eyes; his turbid pupils still retained the fear from before death.

The wife and two children beside him froze for an instant, then lunged forward, clutching the man's head tightly, both crying and laughing.

"Thank Xi Bo!"

"Thank Xi Bo, you saved my man's life!"

"Thank Xi Bo, you saved my papa's life!"

"Thank Xi Bo, you saved our tribe's people!"

Clearly it was Xu Changqing who acted and saved the man's life.

Yet whether the patient or the surrounding tribe members, all faced the altar and knelt down, kowtowing heavily while weeping with gratitude.

Thanking the god for not abandoning them.

Thanking the god for manifesting and saving them.

Thanking the god for letting them still be alive.

From start to finish, not a single person looked at Xu Changqing!