Chapter 339: Fang Can

In outer space, which should be a lifeless void with no trace of humanity,

yet at this moment, a handsome youth with hair like a waterfall of white floated serenely through the cosmos.

The sun’s rays poured entirely over his perfect form, revealing an intensely masculine and rugged appearance.

In his hand, he held an ancient, simple book, while invisible black qi roared endlessly through the void.

After a long while, the youth exhaled slowly, his eyes glinting with a trace of admiration.

“Dongfang Wujie is truly a genius—too bad he was born in this world, lacking depth and foundation; otherwise, he would surely have a place among the Fifth Transcendents.”

Fang Can pondered this, deeply respecting Dongfang Wujie for having created the seventh layer of Qiankun Dayi.

Had he not been born in this world, where life spans only a century, he might have had enough time to fully absorb his gains despite his extraordinary talent.

Give her a little more time, and she would surely claim her place among the Fifth Transcendents.

After obtaining the secret manual from Yang Xiao, Fang Can, with his current talent, mastered the first six layers of Qiankun Dayi in an instant.

But to sever his own arrogance in the seventh layer, he still needed time to reach the state of self-forgetfulness.

Though difficult, before he left, he should be able to complete it fully and overcome the sin of arrogance.

“But… after overcoming arrogance, the next trial will seamlessly connect to wrath.”

“Unless I completely surmount all seven sins and leap directly to the Eighth Transcendence, there will be no respite in between.”

“Me, dominated by wrath… the entire world might suffer then.”

Fang Can smiled indifferently, then in the next instant gripped his own head and tore it clean off his body—mind severed from flesh.

…

On another side, as Fang Can’s mental network forcibly embedded itself throughout the city,

every citizen of Jingcheng immediately found their lives transformed, with effects immediate and undeniable.

For these people living in ancient times, it was hard to comprehend what change truly meant.

Their worldview at age ten was essentially identical to that at thirty—life and the world remained unchanged.

A peasant from the Tang dynasty transported to the Qing would still till the same soil and easily blend into society.

But now, with Fang Can’s mental network connected, the cart of history rolled forward without pause.

On the city’s outskirts, an old farmer stared at his wheat field, voice trembling: “Immortal Master, what do you mean by this four-field crop rotation system?”

【Maximum development of farming efficiency, restoring soil fertility to its optimal state】

【Your current three-field rotation utilizes only 50% of land; switching to four-field raises it to 75%】

【Higher yields require artificial fertilizer and improved seed strains】

“Fertilizer?” The farmer still wondered, when the mental network instantly transmitted the concept of fertilizer into his mind.

Feeling the concept of fertilizer in his head, the farmer’s breath quickened.

If he could produce this, it would be a feat for the ages—but before he could act, new information flashed into his mind.

【Li Shitian in Xicheng has already begun mass-producing fertilizer; the necessary materials are being transported throughout the city】

The message shattered his dream—he remembered then that the mental network wasn’t exclusive to him alone.

In this city of over a million people, when everyone used the mental network, someone would always reach the goal first.

Like browsers—the same tool: some used it to seek knowledge, others ignored risks and kept browsing.

The mental network now functioned like a browser: what one gained depended entirely on how they used it.

The network’s computational power existed to prevent internal friction, precisely atomizing each individual to maximize their subjective initiative.

At the Fourth Transcendence, Yi Tianxing’s computational power rivaled a supercomputer.

Now, at the brink of Fifth Transcendence, Fang Can’s computational power had reached its peak—solving the problems of an entire city’s populace by atomizing each person was effortless.

A citizen in Xicheng, feeling hunger, merely thought of food, and a chef a hundred meters away received the order via the mental network.

A wandering woman, usually drifting through the martial world, arrived, took the cooked food, passed by the hungry man’s door, placed the meal down, and collected a copper coin as payment.

The chef’s fee was not paid by the hungry man.

Instead, it was paid by another person who had posted a different task and happened to pass by.

After Fang Can’s great hand manipulated the flow of the market,

though the reasons for earning and spending money seemed unrelated, the final accounting perfectly balanced every account.

Everything was precisely tuned—no resource wasted, everyone moving in straight lines.

Simultaneously, since everyone was under the mental network’s control—even their thoughts were transparent—no concealment was possible.

Even those who resisted were quietly eliminated, as if pests, by Fang Can’s unseen hand.

Now, the entire city’s population moved like a colossal, precision machine, rolling forward.

Meanwhile, beyond the heavens, Jing Xu stared in shock at 3,562 incoming connection requests.

“Jing Xu, what effect does the King’s mental network have?” asked the Third Transcendent.

“Um, Master, the mental network allows people to hear each other’s thoughts, and nearly every question receives an answer,” Jing Xu replied.

“Doesn’t this eliminate all secrecy?” Some martial artists instinctively grew wary—they too had secrets.

Another martial artist’s eyes gleamed: “If every question is answered, quickly ask the mental network: can it show us how to retain our strength in the mortal realm?”

Jing Xu closed his eyes briefly, then shook his head: “The mental network answered: unless one reaches the Fifth Transcendent realm, strength is inevitably restricted in the mortal realm.”

Three cobblers surpass Zhuge Liang.

Here, collective wisdom showed its power: one martial artist suddenly said,

“We dare not descend because we fear death—and once we descend, we cannot ascend again. Why not ask how we can ascend from below?”

Jing Xu closed his eyes, then opened them: “The King says we can build hot-air balloons and manned rockets in the mortal realm to directly ascend to the higher realm.”

As he spoke, he shared the corresponding knowledge via mind-image.

“This…” The martial artists exchanged silent glances, each exhaling in relief.

This sky was vast and empty; even with power, it was no comfort compared to the mortal world—now, if we could ascend again after descending, that would be perfect.

“Then… let’s ask the King again: hot-air balloons are too cumbersome—is there a simpler, permanent way to communicate between the two realms?” asked one martial artist.

Jing Xu closed his eyes again—this time longer—then suddenly widened them: “Yes! Master, the King has provided a new method!”

“What method?” The crowd exclaimed eagerly.

“The King instructs us to build a crude space elevator, called Karinta, stretching over ten thousand meters, directly connecting the surface to low orbit—martial artists can simply climb it to reach the higher realm.”

“Ten thousand meters…” The martial artists of the Ascension Path exchanged glances, their eyes heavy with bitterness.

“Outer space is empty—building a space elevator requires descending to the mortal realm, but once there, our power is drastically reduced. How can we construct a ten-thousand-meter Karinta?” asked one martial artist.

“The Moon Palace!” Jing Xu’s eyes shone brightly:

“The King says the Moon Palace is only seven hundred thousand li away; in space, there’s no resistance—we can move at over a hundred times the speed of sound, slow down near the Moon, and arrive in just two hours.”

“Then, we can use the Moon’s resources—unrestricted by the Sixth Transcendent prohibition—to smelt materials suitable for Karinta and bring them back to bury as foundations here.”

“Then, we can easily travel between the two realms via this space elevator.”

As Jing Xu spoke, the martial artists’ eyes lit up; after brief discussion, they immediately set off toward the Moon, preparing to construct the space elevator linking the two realms.

Meanwhile, Zhang Yuanqiao of Wudang hovered in midair, using mind-image and long-range strikes to obliterate the city’s main resistors.

Those once arrogant officials and armies were as worthless as clay chickens and broken dogs before the full might of a Fourth Transcendent.

After calming the remaining populace with mind-image, Zhang Yuanqiao prepared to leave.

Then she saw a white crystal drifting toward her from the horizon.

The white crystal was Fang Can’s body, transformed to emit the mental network’s connection.

Instantly, the mental network linked to the city she had subdued.

Not just here—after other Fourth Transcendents secured their cities, identical white crystals drifted toward them.

These were the mental network base stations Fang Can had continuously severed from his own body.

In just two hours, twelve base stations had been split off and were transmitting signals among themselves.

Through these stations, computational power surged dramatically, enabling inter-city communication.

Though ancient transportation made physical exchange between cities difficult during this time,

with the space elevator under construction, martial artists above Third Transcendence could serve as couriers.

With the Ascension Path martial artists’ aid, goods could now move swiftly between cities, forging a supply chain.

Hard to imagine what level of advancement the entire civilized world would reach by day thirty,

under Fang Can’s manipulation.

(End of Chapter)