Chapter 994

Master Chuhe held the Realm Stone in his hands and walked step by step through the air, each step giving rise to lotus flowers.

His eyes glowed as he continuously calculated his steps, finally arriving at a place of clear mountains and pure waters.

There stood a small hill, less than a hundred zhang tall, with a natural spring welling up from its peak, forming a small pond so clear the bottom could be seen. Water from the pond cascaded down a cliff on the opposite side, forming a vertical waterfall, which under the setting sun and evening clouds, cast a rainbow.

This place clearly gathered earth qi and was naturally endowed with spiritual beauty. Surrounding this small hill with a city would create one of the finest landscapes in the world.

The old Daoist Master Chuhe stared with shining eyes, stroking his beard and muttering to himself: “Ah, if I could build a thatched hut here and cultivate for the rest of my days, it would be a true earthly delight!”

But Master Chuhe was no longer what he once was; after a moment’s thought, his ideas multiplied: “I need a copper pot, boiling water, a few slices of snowflake pork… but where would the pork come from? Do I have to butcher it myself?”

I’d have to raise a whole flock—raising a flock means building a shed, and I’d have to take them out to till the land regularly, just to make the meat flavorful. The land must be large, with a medicinal herb garden, so the meat carries the fragrance of herbs…

…I need to set up an alchemy workshop… with so much meat, the cold storage must be bigger… I can’t possibly eat all this myself, and with such abundant produce, I’ll need to transport it—do I have to build another road?

The old Daoist’s thoughts grew ever more numerous and complex, until he realized that cultivating in solitude while maintaining a comfortable lifestyle seemed impractical. Finally, he suddenly had an epiphany, spat several times, and said: “I’ve done so much in my life—why should I force myself to suffer needlessly?”

So he flipped his hand, and the Realm Stone fell, landing atop the small hill beside the spring. A faint glow rapidly spread outward, subtly adjusting the surrounding heavens and earth.

Master Chuhe chuckled and said: “Such beauty is truly dull to behold alone. Better for countless people to see it together—shared joy is better.”

This was the final Realm Stone of the Eight Prefectures’ relocation. When it settled, the Eight Prefectures became one unified whole; all Realm Stones resonated simultaneously, the Dao shifted, earth veins erupted, countless new minor earth veins formed, and all living beings in this realm felt it, inexplicably filled with joy.

A faint glow subtly appeared on Master Chuhe’s third eye, and his Dharma Form emerged: eight immortal swords transformed into eight pillars holding up the heavens. Within the world, chaos reigned—here a forest, there a cluster of flowers. Strange terrains and creatures abounded, even ruins could be seen, with several golden-furred mice darting wildly through the realm. Among the trees and beneath the flowers, countless other beings moved with lively energy.

The entire world brimmed with wild vitality, like a realm before immortals or Buddhas had arisen. Only at its center was something odd: a towering parasol tree, with a chicken coop upon it.

At that moment, the clouds on the horizon turned purple-red, and vast dark clouds gathered overhead—it was heavenly tribulation descending!

Master Chuhe paused, then smiled helplessly, straightened his robes, and faced it calmly.

He knew his own limits: though blessed with fortune, his physical body was ordinary, his Primordial Spirit ordinary, his soul unremarkable. His heart-mirror world was chaotic, lacking spiritual arrays or immortal artifacts to stabilize it—he had no chance of surviving the Yu Jing heavenly tribulation. The moment he attempted to break through to Yu Jing would be his death.

Master Chuhe had dwelled in Qingming for a long time; he had watched Xiang Weiyuan transform a poisonous wasteland into today’s flourishing nation, and had seen how Xiang Weiyuan’s destiny had grown.

Thus, Master Chuhe had already devised a plan: cultivate a hundred million mu of land, save countless lives; after the Immortal Chicken ascended, accumulate sufficient destiny qi, borrow an immortal sword from Zhang Sheng to stabilize it, have Ji Liuli calculate the auspicious hour and celestial patterns, ingest Xu Henshui’s elixir to prolong his life, and finally, be rescued by Sun Yu at the brink of death—through collective effort, perhaps he could barely survive the Yu Jing tribulation.

Master Chuhe’s cultivation base still had some distance to reach full Dharma Form completion; his progress had never been fast—he estimated it would take at least thirty to fifty years to close the gap, so he had never considered preparing for Tribulation Crossing. Yet, just now, a surge of heavenly spiritual energy had directly pushed him past the threshold.

Faced with imminent doom, Master Chuhe felt no fear. He reflected on his life and found it richly fulfilling—he had served heaven and earth, humanity, and even chickens. He had no regrets. He gazed into the distance and prepared to meet death with calmness.

The tribulation clouds loomed overhead, purple and blue lightning flickering within, then a light drizzle began to fall, directly soaking into Master Chuhe’s Dharma Form.

The fine rain, like silk, soon seeped into every corner. Within the rain, tiny blue thunderflashes cleansed impurities, nurturing his Primordial Spirit and physical body. Finally, countless spiritual essences of heaven and earth merged into one, yet remained distinct—thus forming a self-contained realm.

Master Chuhe looked at himself, then around, feeling his spiritual sense suddenly expanded dozens of times—he wondered if he were dreaming.

Was the tribulation already over? This tribulation was thoughtful—it not only nourished his heart-mirror world but also delivered just the right thunder to refine his Dharma body.

Yet Master Chuhe’s innate constitution was mediocre; though the tribulation was kind, his physical body remained ordinary, his heart-mirror world remained ordinary, and within Yu Jing, he was utterly average—only his harmony with heaven and earth was exceptional.

The old Daoist suddenly fell into thought: like earth veins, raw ore is far less hard and resilient than refined metal. But ore is the true face of heaven and earth; refined metal is a post-natural creation. Which is better? It’s hard to say.

The old Daoist felt he understood something—but also felt he understood nothing. At that moment, he suddenly sensed something, looked up to the heavens, and saw two pairs of cold, emotionless eyes.

Master Chuhe paused, then laughed: “So after the heavenly tribulation comes the killing tribulation. Since you’ve revealed yourselves to me today, this tribulation is surely unavoidable. I have only one request: my body came from heaven and earth, so let it return to heaven and earth. After I die, leave me a sliver of my will—let my body fly back to Qingming on its own to dissolve into the earth. If you grant this, I bear you no grudge.”

The two pairs of eyes stared coldly at Master Chuhe, neither agreeing nor refusing. One pair suddenly shifted slightly, glancing toward the west.

In the Qingming Herbal Garden, a crimson hue streaked with bright yellow surged upward—the Immortal Chicken’s killing aura erupted, breaking through the array, its massive body striding forward, feathers bristling like a mountain!

It was furious. Its cry echoed through heaven and earth, making the sunset glow brighter, as if the cry had pulled back a little of the fading light.

The Immortal Chicken spread its wings slightly, took giant strides, one step per mountain peak, heading eastward.

Xiang Weiyuan had been preparing tomorrow’s Dao Foundation Ceremony in his study when he suddenly rose to his feet, flew into the air, and with a fingertip, summoned a flash of green light—countless green specks surged from all directions, coalescing into a long green spear.