Chapter 70: Orchestrating Chaos in Heaven and Earth, Yin and Yang

Moving mountains and filling seas is a feat of immense divine power, accomplished only by those of great magical strength, who can uproot an entire mountain and hurl it into the distant ocean. Yet, to simply topple a mountain is within the abilities of many.

Nanlu invoked the cosmic powers of the Law, and the Azure Blade in his hand had grown to an enormous size, hacking at the peaks with brute force, sending sand and stones flying. Towering trees and massive rocks were reduced to rubble beneath the giant sword, as easily as straw or tofu.

This valley was surrounded by four mountains, and in no time, Nanlu had leveled one with his colossal blade, earth and stones tumbling into the gorge below. Nearby, Fuxi had likewise flattened the summit of another mountain, burying the corpses that lay within the valley.

The remains of the human race in this place had been interred, but elsewhere, bones lay scattered still... For the time that followed, Nanlu accompanied Fuxi, gathering the scattered remains from all around, placing them in a single valley, then leveling mountains to bury them.

If one were to name the most vulnerable race under heaven, humanity would surely count among them: born unable to cultivate, lacking powerful protectors, and without the longevity needed for cultivation. Though gifted with keen learning and creativity, they lagged far behind the many other creatures of the world.

It was said that a being of great divine power once observed the lives of humans from the sky and remarked that humans wasted their innate Dao body, spending their lives striving only for food...

Yet, despite their short lives and frail bodies, humans were clever. There were always those of exceptional talent who could comprehend the path of cultivation, attaining the Dao.

Fuxi was one such figure—not only had he discovered the way for himself, he taught his people to cultivate. Sadly, not all succeeded. Over the years, only a few dozen had managed to break free of the limits of mortality, but the sudden war between the three clans had nearly wiped them all out.

Nanlu, in these days, had often pondered: since Dijun and Taiyi had already stepped onto the holy path, intending to establish the Celestial Court and rule over all beings, why had they plotted in secret? The Phoenix, at the moment of its nirvana, failed to attain the holy way; the Dragon King, whose fame was unparalleled, had fallen; the mysterious Kirin Cliff suffered devastating losses. Such cunning surpassed mere conquest—it was artful beyond measure. No one else in the world could orchestrate such schemes.

Dijun and Taiyi not only possessed overwhelming power, but also mastery of strategy and calculation. What could stand against them? Soon, the Celestial Court would surely rule the world. This thought circled Nanlu’s mind, and when he voiced it to Fuxi, Fuxi gazed silently at the sky, then shook his head, admitting he could not divine any possible outcome.

Nanlu, unfamiliar with divination, looked on in confusion. Fuxi explained: the way of divination requires a catalyst—without it, nothing can be foretold. For instance, Nanlu’s words might have served as such, but the balance of the world’s yin and yang seemed already disturbed, leaving nothing to measure...

Upon hearing Fuxi’s words, Nanlu suddenly recalled the woman in purple who had warned him never to speak of her to anyone—surely this, too, was a catalyst.

Buzhou, though but a single mountain, was vast beyond measure. Its chaotic energies made it unsuitable for cultivation, so few cultivators gathered here; instead, humans thrived in abundance in the surrounding lands.

Yet this time, humanity suffered the greatest casualties in the war. To those of great power, perhaps humans mattered little, but for humanity it was a calamity. The lesser monsters and spirits, affected by the chaos, took delight in slaughtering humans along the migration routes, even taking pleasure in eating their hearts.

The number of humans near Buzhou Mountain had been countless, known only to Fuxi. When Nanlu arrived at a sprawling fortress and heard Fuxi say, “The total population of the tribes I know once stood at thirty-seven million five hundred thousand. Now, not even a million remain.”

Nanlu’s face remained calm, but his eyes narrowed, pupils contracting... He asked Fuxi if he intended to lead these people eastward. Fuxi nodded, saying this place was no longer suitable—Celestial Court would be built atop Buzhou, attracting countless cultivators, and fierce battles were sure to follow. For the safety of the people, they must depart.

This was not divination, but reasoned analysis. Often, the secrets of heaven could be deduced from the currents of the world.

Nanlu had spent more than twenty days with Fuxi, traversing countless villages. In each vast settlement, traces of former prosperity could be seen, but now only ruined, abandoned fortresses remained. In time, wind and rain would reduce them to dust; after many years, none would remember humanity once lived here.

Nanlu’s purpose in this journey was to find Kongxuan. If Kongxuan lived, Nanlu could return at ease to the Yangping tribe. If he was dead, Nanlu’s only duty was to find and bury his remains.

But if Kongxuan had truly died, it was unlikely his body could be found. As for vengeance—how could Nanlu not desire it? But whom could he strike against, and how could he succeed? All he could do was remember it in his heart.

Fortunately, Fuxi said Kongxuan likely lived. Nanlu asked if he knew Kongxuan’s whereabouts, or could divine them. Fuxi shook his head, saying the one who had disturbed the heavenly secrets was too powerful; nothing could be discerned. Yet he added that he had seen, from afar, the ancestor of the Wu tribe, Zhu Rong, rescue Kongxuan from the chaos.

Nanlu could imagine, with Kongxuan’s proud nature, to have been rescued meant he must have suffered grave wounds—even if he wished to stay, he could not.

They agreed to meet atop Buzhou in eleven days, and parted ways. Though the creation of the Celestial Court would surely bring conflict, perhaps even another great battle, Fuxi insisted he must go. No one in the world could withstand the one who suppressed all beings with the bell—let alone two such figures. Even if one was weaker, they were still among the world’s strongest.

Just as Nanlu prepared to turn and leave, he saw Fuxi suddenly gaze toward a certain spot. Following his eyes, Nanlu saw a woman standing silently atop a mountain, her green robes billowing, hair loose and flowing in the wind. She was staring intently in their direction, and Nanlu sensed she was watching Fuxi.

His heavenly sight moved as he wished, yet her face remained indistinct, as had happened only once before, with Xuanming. This time, he did not secretly peer further, but when he looked again at Fuxi, he saw Fuxi was lost in thought.

Fuxi had always seemed so calm and wise in Nanlu’s eyes, as if nothing could surprise him, everything understood... Seeing him thus, Nanlu realized: he too was human, flesh and blood.

Fuxi suddenly returned to himself, smiled at Nanlu—open and unembarrassed, offering no explanation regarding the woman. Nanlu did not ask, merely glanced again and took his leave.

After walking some distance, Nanlu looked back once more and saw Fuxi again lost in thought, gazing at the woman standing silently atop the mountain, a quiet tenderness between them.

The Wu tribe's population was sparse; beneath Buzhou, only one tribe of Hou Tu remained, containing both humans and Wu. Among humans, only those who married into the Wu remained.

In years past, Kuafu had said he lived in the Hou Tu tribe below Buzhou, though Nanlu did not know its exact location. Luckily, Fuxi did.

After about three days’ travel, they encountered a man—where humans remained, he must live among the Wu. Upon inquiry, he proved to be from the Hou Tu tribe.

Speaking of the recent war, he was filled with sorrow. He said he had married a Wu woman, but all his kin had perished in the conflict. Learning Nanlu was a cultivator, he praised him, eyes full of envy, saying he had once wished to cultivate under Fuxi, but was chosen for marriage by the Wu.

Nanlu sighed inwardly, thinking the man’s days among the Wu must be hard—an outsider chosen for marriage, surely only to breed offspring. Anyone could see the reason, yet still some humans were absorbed into the Wu, men perhaps faring better; but for women... At this thought, Nanlu cursed himself. Whether man or woman, both were selected for breeding—there was no better fate.

He sighed again, noticing he’d been sighing more often of late. Observing the man, who called himself Zhao Hua, Nanlu saw he was handsome and tall—a fine specimen among humans.

Sighing once more, Nanlu looked ahead: a vast fortress was coming into view.