I am the sacred tree, evergreen for eternity.

Deep in the mountains and seas, a place shrouded in murky fog.

The grayish-white mist flowed slowly along the ground, like a great river with no source and no end.

Countless figures knelt on this desolate land, densely packed, stretching from the nearby wasteland all the way to the distant mountain ridge.

Among them were mutated Xia clan members, people who had once been domesticated by the demon race, and even demons who had become dead...

But now, they are the same kind of existence—the filthy dead, forgotten by the living and abandoned by the dead.

Humans, savages, demons, monsters...

These groups, who once fought and were sworn enemies, now kneel on the same land, facing the same direction.

Deep in the wilderness, a natural stone platform rises from the ground.

The stone platform is about three zhang high, with a smooth, mirror-like surface that gleams with a dark red luster, like congealed blood.

Standing proudly atop the stone platform, he surveyed the entire wasteland from his lofty position, sweeping over his people who teetered on the edge of death.

"From this day forward, we shall be—"

"The Abyss Clan".

The two words fell, and the wasteland trembled.

The deathly aura surged and billowed, sweeping in from afar and enveloping the nascent race in a thick fog.

"Our nation is called—"

"The Abyss Falls".

The abyss, the fall.

This is the realm of the dead, the home of the impure, and the final resting place of those who are neither alive nor dead.

Ao stepped down from the stone platform and onto the land of Yuanluo.

There is no warmth from the earth's spiritual energy here, only the chill of death seeping up from the depths of the earth.

Thousands upon thousands of the dead rose up and silently followed Ao, like a pale white torrent flowing into the river of new life.

In the very center of the wasteland, amidst shattered bones and mud, the Abyss Clan cleared a flat clearing.

He stood proudly at the edge of the open space, taking out a withered branch from his bosom.

Just before Yu Su's Dharma form dissipated, Ao grasped the piece of withered wood that had fallen from the spiritual light.

It had no brilliance, no vitality, not a single leaf, like a piece of rotten wood forgotten in the wilderness for many years.

But Ao knew that it shared the same roots as the tree god's branch and was connected by blood to the elm tree that stood atop the sacred mountain.

Ao squatted down and planted the withered branch into the ground.

The movements were very gentle, like planting a seed of hope.

The withered branch moved.

It's not growth—growth is a matter of life, and this withered branch is already dead.

It takes root in "death" and takes shape in "nothingness".

The withered branches stretched upwards, growing tall and straight in the blink of an eye; dark roots emerged from the bottom, like fallen leaves returning to the earth in late autumn.

Death is an integral part of life.

The moment the roots pierced the earth's veins, the ground within a radius of tens of miles trembled simultaneously.

A dense and pure aura of death surged from the withered branches, seeped into the earth's veins along the roots, and spread far and wide.

The ground began to crack, as if something was awakening deep within.

Cracks spread outwards from the base of the withered branches, crisscrossing each other, and grayish-white mist, carrying the smell of decay, gushed from each crack.

A bone claw burst from the ground.

It gripped the edge of the crack and pulled the complete skeleton out of the ground, a faint light gradually appearing in the empty eye sockets.

More cracks are spreading, and countless dead are awakening—humans, beasts, and even gigantic, indistinguishable creatures…

It stood proudly beside the dead tree, unmoved.

His pupils reflected the figures crawling out of the ground, thousands upon thousands, surging in from all directions.

These newly born members of the Abyss Clan stopped a hundred paces away from the dead tree and slowly knelt down in a ritualistic manner.

Heads drooped, foreheads touching the ground, row after row, like wheat fields bending down in the wind.

Ao raised his right hand.

All the eerie lights flashed simultaneously, like stars ignited in the night sky.

"By the Tree God."

His voice wasn't loud, but every word was like a monument, standing heavily and solemnly on this desolate land.

"This is where we shall rest in peace."

"This tree is the foundation of our faith."

"From this day forward, there will be neither birth nor death, nor reincarnation."

"The abyss will live on forever."

……

At the summit of the sacred mountain, Yu Su's senses returned from the abyss.

The regeneration and development of the dead tree represents Yu Su's new understanding of the Divine Realm and is also an attempt to complete the profound path of cultivation.

A tree, splitting into two branches.

A branch takes root in the light, grows amidst the piety of humanity, flourishes and protects the living.

A branch, rooted in deathly energy, rises tall amidst the worship of the turbid, withered and twisted, settling the dead.

Life and death, though different in origin, share the same source; though different in path, they arrive at the same destination.

Thus, on this wild and untamed land, two kingdoms, one representing life and the other death, were born simultaneously.

Of course, this is insignificant to Shan Hai.

Yu Su silently watched over the two completely opposite paths, his spiritual light and Dharma form gathering and dispersing around him invisibly, his divine charm forming in secret.

The tree is not in a hurry.

But the humans under the shade of the trees walked very quickly.

The decades following the establishment of the Xia Dynasty can be described as "changing rapidly."

The expansion of territory and the coverage of spirit fields have made the human race's food and supplies more abundant. Markets have changed from twice a month to once every five days, and some large towns even have transactions every other day.

Rice, animal hides, ironware, herbs, cloth, pottery, wood carvings...

The goods became more numerous and varied, and some people even began to use polished seashells as a medium of exchange.

It wasn't ordered by the emperor; it was a spontaneous agreement among the merchants, because bartering was simply too troublesome.

The population is growing rapidly. When the Xia Kingdom was first established, the registered population was only over 200,000, but now it is approaching 500,000.

This forced Qi to hold meetings with the elders every now and then to improve rules and laws and coordinate the increasingly large ethnic group.

Those wild people who once lived in constant fear in the wilderness now have household registration, private property, and family names that can be passed down.

Everything is like wheat seedlings in spring, growing taller and stronger, with an unstoppable momentum.

But some things are also quietly sprouting in this vigorous growth.

After finishing processing the reports, Qi walked out of the council hall and strolled around the city's main street.

Shops lined both sides of the street, the fire in the blacksmith's shop illuminated half the street, the pharmacy clerk dried herbs at the door, and the cloth shop owner stood behind the counter, haggling with customers at the top of her lungs.

Everything was lively and vibrant.

But Qi noticed—

The flow of people on the street silently formed distinct groups.

An old farmer carrying millet came out of the alley, wearing a worn-out linen short coat with his trousers rolled up to his knees and his calves covered in dry mud.

He walked forward with his head down and almost bumped into a totem walker wearing a leather jacket.

The traveler did not get angry, nor did he stop walking. He simply tilted his shoulder slightly, and the scabbard of his iron sword accidentally bumped into the old farmer's basket, spilling a few grains of millet.

The old farmer quickly smiled apologetically and bent down to pick it up, but the traveler had already gone far away.

The traveler had taken a dozen steps when a powerful expert at the Mingling Realm, with an iron token hanging from his waist, approached him.

The traveler paused noticeably, then stepped aside, bowed slightly, and waited for the Mingling Realm expert to pass before continuing his journey.

Qi's hand clenched tightly in his sleeve, then slowly relaxed.

The things that the first leader, Hong, once lamented and worried about have finally come true...