I gain ten years' worth of cultivation every day, and even geniuses will only see my doorstep!

Qin Yuan paused for a moment. He took the baby and placed it on his lap. The power protecting the Heavenly Dao seeped from his palm into the baby's body, and golden light shone through the thin skin, revealing the toxins being expelled little by little. The purple lips turned pink, and the swollen belly slowly deflated. The baby's cries grew louder, still like a cat's meow, but with more strength.

The woman crawled out of the shed and knelt on the muddy ground, kowtowing. Her forehead sank into the mud, and mud splashed onto Qin Yuan's trouser legs.

"No need to kowtow," Qin Yuan said. He didn't want to say "get up" because he knew she wouldn't. He reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her up from the mud. She hadn't been kneeling for long, but her knees were already scraped raw.

"Teach me," Qin Yuan said.

The woman didn't understand. She didn't know what those two words meant. She only knew that this person had come to save her child. She didn't know how to write the word "save," but she knew that this person had done something she couldn't do.

Qin Yuan stayed in the Mud Realm for three months.

He taught them to raise the foundation of their huts, to make bricks from reeds and mud, and to build walls after they dried. He taught them to dig drainage ditches to let rainwater run off and prevent their huts from getting flooded. He told them where the water was drinkable—to use the stems of reeds to draw water from the ground; the water on the surface was undrinkable, but the water on the bottom was. He taught them to weave reeds into mats to lay on the ground to insulate against the dampness of the swamp.

The people of the Mud Realm weren't afraid of him, but they didn't get close to him either. They called him "that person who can cure diseases," not "Guardian," not "Master." Qin Yuan felt that this title was better than any other.

A boy followed him from morning till night. The boy's name was Nidan, he was twelve years old, and as thin as a stick. He didn't speak, he just followed. Wherever Qin Yuan went, he followed. When Qin Yuan squatted down, he squatted down too. When Qin Yuan stood up, he stood up too.

"What do you want to learn?" Qin Yuan asked.

Mud Egg thought for a long time. "I want to learn how to stop being hungry."

Qin Yuan took him to the edge of the swamp and found a slightly dry patch of land. He taught him how to loosen the soil, dig holes, and plant the seeds. They weren't planting any spiritual herbs, but a type of taro that could grow in swamps. The taro leaves were as large as umbrellas, and the roots were buried in the mud; once dug up, they could be roasted and eaten. Mud Egg learned slowly and was clumsy; he planted the taro crookedly, dug the holes too shallow, and watered it too much. Qin Yuan didn't correct him; he simply showed him how to do it again each time he made a mistake.

The day the taro was planted, Mud Egg smiled for the first time. His teeth were very white, a stark contrast to his dark, thin face.

The day Qin Yuan left, Muddy stood by the swamp. He didn't wave, he didn't speak. Qin Yuan walked a long way away, then looked back, and there he was, still standing there. Like a wooden stake stuck in the mud.

Back at the Xuan Yuan Sect, Lin Qing'er was waiting for him under the old plum tree. The herb garden had expanded; half of the land where they used to grow spiritual herbs was now planted with vegetables. The cabbages, radishes, and beans were growing very well. The leaves were a glossy green, without any insect damage.

"You can't finish it all by yourself," Lin Qing'er said. She had heard about Qin Yuan's experiences in the Mud Realm, but offered no comment, only saying this.

"I know."

Qin Yuan returned to the Multiverse Council. He stood in the center of the council hall, surrounded by more than two thousand councilors. No one spoke; they were all waiting for him.

"I propose a plan: to establish the 'Multiverse Rescue Team' to help those worlds where people can't even get enough to eat."

The lawmakers looked at each other. Some raised their hands to say "support," others to say "oppose." The opposition wasn't against the aid, but rather about—who would provide the money? Who would provide the manpower?

Qin Yuan did not exercise his veto power. He said, "The rescue team doesn't need your money or personnel." He paused. "I'll go. I'll go alone."

The council chamber fell silent for a moment. Li Qing stood up, his short hair sticking up uncombed. "I'll go with you." The second to stand up was a large beastman, his furry paws raised above his head. "Me too." The third, the fourth, the fifth. In the end, thirty-seven people were willing to join the rescue team. They came from different worlds, different races, different beliefs. Beastmen, humans, demons, cultivators, mortals, the elderly, and the young. Li Qing stood at the very front, and Mud Egg stood at the very back—no one knew how he got there, but he stood there, his back ramrod straight.

Qin Yuan looked at the group and nodded. "Let's go. There are many more worlds waiting for us."

The rescue team's first stop was called Dry Thirst Realm.

This world has no rivers, no lakes, no rain. It is said there once were, but that was a long time ago. The ground is cracked, the fissures wide enough to fit a foot. The soil is grayish-white, like burnt bones. The only, last, source of water still flowing is a deep well. The wellhead is lined with stones, on which are inscriptions, worn away by wind and sand. The water level in the well is dropping at a visible rate. Today, a ten-zhang (approximately 3.3 meters) rope is needed to draw water; tomorrow, eleven zhang (approximately 3.3 meters) will be required.

Li Qing stood by the well, holding a rope in her hand, the other end of which was tied to a wooden bucket. She pulled up half a bucket of water, which was muddy and contained sand.

"We can transport water from other worlds. We can use storage artifacts to carry a lot at once."

Qin Yuan squatted down, looking at the half-bucket of murky water. "How long can this water supply last?"

Li Qing calculated it. "Three years."

"And what about three years from now?"

Li Qing did not answer.

Qin Yuan closed his eyes. The power protecting the Heavenly Dao seeped from his body into the ground, passing through the parched soil, through the hard rock layers, and through the thousand-foot-thick stone. Beneath the stone, there was water. Not stagnant water, but flowing, living water. An underground river.

The thickness of the rock strata is not a problem. With Qin Yuan's strength, he can drill through a thousand feet.

He raised his right hand, his index and middle fingers together, and pointed downwards. Spiritual energy shot out from his fingertips, not as an attack, but as a spinning cone that drilled into the ground. The ground did not tremble, and the sound was faint. There was only a slight, continuous buzzing, like bees flying.

The buzzing lasted for about half an incense stick's time. Then it stopped.

Then the water sprayed out.

A column of water shot out from where Qin Yuan pointed, rising a hundred feet high. The water was clear, cool, and sweet—Qin Yuan took a sip. A mist rose from the sky above the Dry Land, and sunlight pierced through it, refracting a faint rainbow.

Water overflowed the parched land, seeping into the cracked riverbed. The cracks were filled with water, the soil was moistened, and the river flowed again. The thirsty creatures knelt in the muddy water, cupping their hands to drink. Some cried, some laughed, and some lay on the ground kissing the moist earth.

Li Qing stood behind Qin Yuan, unmoved. "After you leave, will this well still produce water?"

"Yes. The hole won't close."

How did you know?

"Because I left a wisp of guardianship of the Heavenly Dao there."