Chapter Eight: The Storm Approaches, the Dao Master Expounds

In the northern reaches of the Primeval Wilderness, baleful energy filled the sky. Ferocious beasts continued their wanton slaughter, mercilessly killing any creature they set their eyes upon. Countless years flowed by, unmarked and silent; in the blink of an eye, over a hundred thousand years had passed since the dawning of this world.

“Big brother, those damned wretches have slaughtered so many of our kin. Just days ago, one of my own generals at the Taiyi Golden Immortal stage was killed as well. Over these tens of thousands of years, no less than several million of our children have been slain by their hands. When will we march into the wilds and exterminate those detestable foes?” On this day, Qiongqi stormed into Shen Ni’s place of cultivation, his anger echoing in his booming voice as his three brothers followed behind.

Over the millennia, Shen Ni’s cultivation had broken through to the pinnacle of the Quasi-Saint’s initial stage. Among the Four Great Ferocious Beasts, Taowu, Hundun, and Taotie had each reached the late Da Luo Golden Immortal stage, while Qiongqi himself had arrived at the great perfection of the Da Luo Golden Immortal, just a step away from becoming a Quasi-Saint.

“Is it still those black-clad ones?” Shen Ni’s face was shadowed with gloom as he asked.

“That’s right! It’s those damned ones.” Qiongqi’s face was full of pent-up frustration, teeth gritted. No wonder Qiongqi was so aggrieved; in the past, though some creatures would venture north to hunt beasts for refining treasures, most were slain in return. Yet tens of thousands of years ago, a group of black-clad figures appeared, sneaking about, slaughtering beasts day after day, but never taking the valuable materials from their bodies. At first, this drew little attention.

But as time went on, their numbers grew, and the slaughter of their kin increased, rising to millions over the ages. In a rage, Qiongqi and his brothers set out to hunt the black-clad interlopers, but those foes were like rats—every time, they slipped away before the four could arrive. On the rare occasions they managed to surround a group, the black-clad ones would self-destruct without hesitation rather than be captured, leaving Qiongqi and his brothers even more frustrated.

“No matter who they are, once we invade the wilds and slaughter every living thing, sooner or later we’ll force them out,” Shen Ni said, equally vexed. Even with his pinnacle Quasi-Saint cultivation, he couldn’t discern their origins, as though a shroud of darkness veiled them. He’d hoped to seize one for a soul search, but the moment those wretches glimpsed the four, they self-destructed instantly—never a single living captive.

“Pass down my order: in a thousand years, we launch a full-scale assault on the entire wilderness. Let none survive!” With that, Shen Ni closed his eyes and continued consolidating his recent breakthrough.

“Excellent! The time has finally come—ha ha ha ha!” The Four Great Ferocious Beasts exulted. They’d lingered in the desolate north for countless years; had Shen Ni not restrained them, they would have stormed into the wilds long ago.

...

Half-awake, Chen Xing emerged from his slumber, stretching languidly. “That was the best sleep I’ve ever had!” he exclaimed, springing from his bed and leaving his bedroom. Yes, you read that right—a bedroom.

As Chen Xing stepped outside, a pond shimmered before his doorway, dotted with floating blue lotuses.

Behind him stood a striking three-story house, its design most peculiar. Any Earthling would instantly recognize it as a classic standalone villa in the styles of ancient Earth. In this world, where dwellings were either caves or palaces, Chen Xing’s villa was truly one of a kind. Though it seemed to occupy only a few hundred square meters, it contained eighty-one rooms. Aside from his own bedroom on the top floor, which remained as it had been on Earth, every other room had been expanded a thousandfold by the laws of space, each becoming a small cultivation arena, saturated with primordial spiritual energy that rivaled any place in the wilderness. These rooms were intended for future guests.

This villa was a postnatal treasure Chen Xing had refined with his great power from materials found on the island—not only a residence, but a fortress of both offense and defense. With his current “Daoist Saint” cultivation, this treasure was certainly no less than many innate spirit treasures.

Since refining the villa, Chen Xing had buried himself in his bedroom, sleeping away the ages until now.

Outside his room, as far as the eye could see, many intelligent creatures frolicked happily around the villa, the atmosphere harmonious and peaceful. Chen Xing smiled in contentment. In such a savage world, to have fashioned this paradise was truly a joy. With him present, these little ones would always be safe.

Lost in thought as he gazed at the tranquil scene, he felt someone tug at his clothing. Looking down, he was momentarily stunned.

A delicate young girl stood behind him, scarcely five or six years old, her cheeks rosy and plump, skin nearly translucent, as if one could squeeze water from it. Beneath long eyelashes, her large eyes sparkled as she gazed at Chen Xing, so adorable that his heart nearly melted. In that moment, he recalled his own little sister.

“Master!” The little girl’s soft, milky voice called out.

The sound snapped Chen Xing from his reverie. He knelt and asked, “Little one, who are you? Why do you call me Master?”

“Master, don’t you want me anymore?” Tears welled up in the girl’s eyes, threatening to spill.

Chen Xing had always been unable to bear his little sister’s tears; seeing this child about to cry, he hurriedly scooped her into his arms. “Don’t cry, don’t cry. How could I ever not want you?”

Only then did he look carefully at the child in his embrace. In an instant, he understood—she was the little fox to whom he’d once given the method of cultivation, now having taken human form.

Startled, Chen Xing calculated with his fingers and suddenly realized—he had slept for tens of thousands of years! No wonder the little fox had already transformed. He chuckled wryly. While others cultivated without knowing the years, he had slept his away. If Fatty Zhu were here, he’d surely tease that even pigs couldn’t match this feat.

Cradled in Chen Xing’s arms, the little girl blushed furiously and buried her face in his chest.

Gently patting her back, Chen Xing asked softly, “What’s your name, little one?” The girl lifted her head, blinking up at him and shaking it. “Master, I don’t have a name. What’s a name?” In this era, before the rise of humankind, most creatures were born innately; after taking form, they’d merely adopt a Daoist title. The concept of names would only emerge with the birth of humanity.

“I see.” Chen Xing pondered a moment, then said, “From now on, you’ll be called Bai Xiaoyao. And don’t call me Master anymore—call me Brother!” Since she was a little white fox, the name seemed fitting.

“Mm!” Xiaoyao nodded her adorable little head.

He glanced at her cultivation—she’d reached the mid-stage of Mysterious Immortal. The hierarchy of cultivation in this world began with Earth Immortal, followed by Heaven Immortal, Mysterious Immortal, Golden Immortal, Taiyi Mysterious Immortal, Taiyi Golden Immortal, Da Luo Golden Immortal, Quasi-Saint, and finally Saint. Only Saints, governed by the Heavenly Dao, had nine distinct stages; the rest, including Quasi-Saints, were divided into early, middle, late, and peak great perfection. In this era, any creature who reached Heaven Immortal could take human form, for the Heavenly Dao was not yet complete and there was no tribulation for transformation.

What puzzled Chen Xing was why the little fox, having cultivated to mid-Mysterious Immortal, still appeared as a child. Though he possessed the attainment of a Daoist Saint and could deduce almost anything, he did not realize that, having been born in this paradise as the first white fox since the world's creation, with a heart pure and untainted, the little fox was deeply influenced by Chen Xing’s fondness and doting affection. Subconsciously, she wished always to be cherished, and so her transformation was affected, manifesting as a little girl. Without reaching the Quasi-Saint realm, she would likely never grow up.

Even as a Saint, Chen Xing could not have foreseen this outcome.

Watching the island’s myriad creatures at play, Chen Xing’s heart stirred. Though there were many beings here, none had yet taken human form to accompany Xiaoyao. Moreover, her cultivation was still low in his eyes. He resolved to preach the Dao to the island’s inhabitants.

Acting on impulse, Chen Xing waved his hand, and a grand platform appeared in the island’s center. In a flash, he sat atop it with Xiaoyao in his arms. His voice resounded across Fangzhang Island: “Today I shall expound the Dao on Fangzhang Island. All fated beings may come and listen.” His words were imbued with the resonance of the Dao.

All the island’s sentient beings, upon hearing the summons, rushed madly toward the center. Even those yet to awaken wisdom were lured by the Dao’s allure. Trees and grasses unable to move turned their crowns toward the platform, as if in veneration.

Chen Xing had restricted the reach of his voice to the island alone, so no outsiders would come to listen.

Soon, all the creatures assembled before the platform, respectfully prostrating themselves ten zhang away. Many of those with intelligence looked enviously at Xiaoyao in Chen Xing’s arms.

A bell tolled, as if echoing through the ages, striking the souls of every living thing. Chen Xing’s voice thundered forth: “I preach the Dao to you, so that you shall not be oppressed by outsiders. Should any among you use your strength to harm others, I will hunt you down no matter the heights or depths you flee to. But if you remain upright and innocent, under my protection you shall be beyond even Heaven’s reach. Remember this well!”

The creatures bowed deeply. Chen Xing could not have predicted that these words would one day bring forth a cohort of little rascals who’d leave even the greatest deities of the wilderness exasperated, and even Dao Ancestor Hongjun himself helpless before them.

...

As Chen Xing preached to the island’s inhabitants, a thousand years slipped by unnoticed. He began with the method for taking form, and continued up to the Quasi-Saint realm. To Chen Xing, these teachings were but a fraction of the laws he remembered; to the island’s creatures, they were an unparalleled fortune. Over that millennium, four beings succeeded in taking human form, and the rest all awakened to intelligence. What they did not know was that, though Chen Xing’s teachings only led up to the Quasi-Saint realm, they lay outside the control of Heaven’s Dao, and myriad paths could lead to sainthood. Even Hongjun himself would have been delighted by such a scene.

Cradled in Chen Xing’s arms and bathed in the closest proximity to the Dao’s resonance, Xiaoyao’s cultivation soared from mid-Mysterious Immortal past Golden Immortal, landing at the early stage of Taiyi Mysterious Immortal. Yet her form remained unchanged, to Chen Xing’s consternation. He truly wished she would grow a little—he was tired of playing nursemaid! But faced with Xiaoyao’s pitiful gaze, Chen Xing gave in, gritting his teeth: So what if I’m her nursemaid? I love holding her. With such an adorable little girl, how could I possibly mind!