Chapter 781: The Earth God
Chapter 781: The Earth God
It was night.
The moon was bright and stars sparse; crows cawed in the void.
"Another lifetime of vicissitudes. . ."
Fang Xi looked up, gazing at the bright moon in the sky, knowing that the world had changed once more.
This was no longer the Land of Seven Suns and Nine Moons within the Earthly Immortal World, but rather a Minor Realm. . . subordinate to a Middle Thousand World!
Clad in a Daoist robe, he held a half-square of grayish-black inkstone, ready to return immediately if anything seemed amiss.
'After all, it's a lower realm. . . perhaps there will be realm power suppression, or even forced ascension? '
But at this moment, Fang Xi felt little to no realm pressure.
Occasionally, one or two chirps of insects or calls of birds broke the silence, adding to the charm of the wilderness.
"Five Elements spells. . ."
He formed a single-handed incantation, and a stubborn flicker of firelight brightened a few times on his palm, only to finally extinguish.
"It's not that they can't be used, but it seems some modifications are needed. . ."
"For cultivators below the Return to Void stage, this realm isn't very friendly."
Fang Xi released his Divine Consciousness, perceiving the differences of this world.
Among the three thousand Minor Realms under the Earthly Immortal World's jurisdiction, Five Elements spells were universally applicable, without the slightest impediment, and all could trace their origin back to the Earthly Immortal World – a convergence of different paths to the same destination, so to speak.
However, while this Minor Realm seemed quite similar to those others, Fang Xi could be certain that if Qi Refinement or Foundation Establishment cultivators were to come here, they might well lose most of their magical power, becoming utterly 'mortal'.
At the Core Formation and Nascent Soul stages, it would be slightly better, as the physiques of cultivators, tempered by countless refinements of spiritual energy, were not merely for show.
But for Soul Transformation cultivators, it was an even greater pitfall!
"The spiritual energy of heaven and earth in this realm seems difficult to draw upon. . ."
"Fortunately, after the Return to Void stage, one no longer draws upon the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, but rather the primordial essence of heaven and earth!"
With a thought from Fang Xi, dark clouds obscured the moon, a strong wind swept through, and a light, drizzling rain began to fall.
Summoning wind and rain!
For a Return to Void cultivator capable of manipulating the primordial essence of heaven and earth, this was naturally nothing remarkable; after all, he was already at the late stage of Return to Void. . .
Within this rainfall, there seemed to be an indescribable vitality intermingled.
On the patch of loess where he stood, countless wild grasses rapidly sprouted, growing waist-high in the blink of an eye.
Unknown flowers bloomed, each vying for splendor and beauty.
When cultivators reached higher realms, even a slight display of their methods was like a divine miracle!
Suddenly, Fang Xi seemed to sense something and formed a single-handed incantation.
A layer of black mist flashed, and his figure vanished.
A moment later.
A flash of earthy-yellow light appeared on the ground, and a small figure burrowed out.
With a flowing white beard, holding a peach wood staff, and dressed like a wealthy squire, his forehead resembled a longevity peach.
He was currently gazing around, his face filled with surprise and uncertainty: "Spirit Rain? Which Dragon King passed by. . . Alas, such a great deity is not one whom this old man, a mere unranked Earth God of Fortune and Virtue, can ever hope to behold. . ."
This old man was only palm-sized; he cast a spell, collected a few seeds and fruits saturated with spiritual energy, and then vanished in a flash of light and shadow.
From beginning to end, he never noticed Fang Xi observing him with keen interest from the side.
"What is this. . . spirit monster?"
Fang Xi, of course, couldn't understand the other party's words, but he had firmly committed them to memory.
Once he learned the local language, he would clearly know what this little spirit monster was saying.
"A spirit monster innately proficient in earth evasion techniques. . . No, this isn't magical power fluctuation. . . is it another kind of power system?"
Fang Xi took a step, as if shrinking the ground into inches, following closely behind that small spirit monster.
Although the other party's earth evasion technique was like an innate instinct, how could it possibly escape his perception?
Not long after, a mountain village appeared in Fang Xi's sight.
Outside the mountain village, there was also a river like a jade belt, slowly flowing around the village.
At this time, the night was deep, and among the hundred or so households, apart from the crowing of roosters and the barking of dogs, there was almost complete silence.
That small spirit monster arrived at the village entrance and burrowed into a low, squat temple.
This temple was square, but built very miniature, not even as large as a dog kennel.
In front of the temple, there was a clay incense burner, already half-broken, with a few offering dishes placed beside it.
Fang Xi watched this scene and couldn't help but freeze: "So it wasn't a small earth-evading spirit monster, but rather. . . an Earth God?"
Although the cultivation world had no tales of ghosts, gods, or earth deities, he had heard many such legends in his first life.
"So it seems that wasn't a magical power fluctuation earlier, but rather. . . divine power? Gods of the Eastern Land? I wonder if there are Western pantheons or similar. . . Truly interesting. . ."
A smile of interest appeared on Fang Xi's lips.
...
White Sweet Village.
Most of the villagers here were surnamed Bai or Gan. The village was alive with the sounds of chickens and dogs, and houses stretched on.
Gan Yu, carrying a bundle of firewood on his back, pushed open his family's wattle fence.
Beneath the thatched hut, his old mother smiled: "Yu'er is back. The porridge is already served. . ."
"Mother, have you eaten?"
Gan Yu put down the firewood, scooped up a ladle of water with a gourd dipper, and gulped it down, trying to suppress the burning hunger in his heart.
However, he had drunk too much water, and his stomach sloshed uncomfortably as he walked.
"I've already eaten."
Gan Yu's mother sat before the steps, trying to mend clothes by the daylight.
She was clearly a woman not yet forty, but her back was already hunched, her temples streaked with white, and her clothes covered in patches.
Gan Yu entered the room and saw half a bowl of porridge on the wooden table, mixed with some cassava roots, solidified into lumps.
Seeing this, his eyes immediately reddened, knowing that his old mother had only drunk a little of the porridge broth, leaving all the solid food for him.
He quickly said: "Your son isn't hungry; I already picked and ate some fruits on the way. . ."
"At this time of year, where would there be any wild fruits? My son works in the fields and still has to study for exams. If you pass the Daoist exam in the future, you'll be half an official, and this old woman can finally enjoy some blessings. . ."
Gan Yu's mother chattered on with her instructions, her demeanor not like that of an ordinary peasant woman.
The Gan family's ancestors had virtue; they once produced a county magistrate. However, he was later involved in a major case and stripped of his Daoist registration, though several copies of Daoist Scriptures were passed down within the family.
This branch of the Gan family had once nurtured a scholar who nearly passed the provincial exam to become a 'Jucai'!
Alas, his physique was too frail, and he died of a sudden illness during the examination, causing this branch of the family to decline.
Now, Gan Yu's mother's constant wish was for Gan Yu to inherit his late father's ambition and pass the Daoist exam!
Gan Yu wiped away his tears. He didn't eat the porridge; he just kept working.
After finishing his tasks, he went into the inner room, took out a Daoist Scripture from a coarse cloth bundle, and carefully perused it.
Although this Daoist Scripture was already old and worn, its successive owners were all book lovers, so it had been preserved quite intact.
As he read, Gan Yu's thoughts fell upon his heart-lake like raindrops.
The Dao Court governed people, testing them with the "Daoist Scripture."
First was the county examination. Those who passed were called 'Tongsheng,' or sometimes 'Daoist disciples,' considered half-registered Daoists, acquiring semi-official status, and no one in the countryside dared to bully them.
After becoming a Daoist, one could then take the prefectural examination. If one passed the prefectural examination again, they would be called 'Jucai,' meaning 'talents recommended for the Dao Court. '
After becoming a Jucai, came the 'Jinshi' examination, held every three years in the capital. Those who passed were called 'Jinshi,' meaning 'scholars who advance in the Dao! '
Taking this step meant truly entering the Daoist registry; one could be assigned as an official to local areas, or hold a position in the Dao Court, rising to prominence in the future with limitless prospects.
Alas, the single "Daoist Scripture" was voluminous, with thirty-six scrolls in total, each containing profound meanings. Even scholars who dedicated their lives to studying it might not fully grasp it.
How difficult was it to pass the Tongsheng examination?
"Of the thirty-six scrolls of the 'Daoist Scripture,' our family only has six. . ."
Gan Yu secretly pondered: "Although the Tongsheng examination is the simplest, one must still be able to recite the 'Daoist Scripture' fluently to have any chance of passing. . ."
In truth, his family only had one scroll of the "Daoist Scripture"; by borrowing and hand-copying from others in the village, they barely managed to assemble six scrolls.
But the remaining thirty scrolls were secretly passed down within various families. Without borrowing them from private academies in the county town or from wealthy households, it was utterly impossible to gather them all.
After all, the thirty-six scrolls of the "Daoist Scripture" were the only path to advancement in this world!
On the path to success, naturally, the fewer competitors, the better.
Ordinary children of poor families, if they wished to study and advance, first had to face this insurmountable chasm of a hurdle.
Gan Yu sighed and walked out of the room, only to see his old mother already pushing a basket into his hands. Inside was a full basket of eggs: "My son. . . a 'Mr. Fang' has newly moved into the village. He seems to be a scholar, and he has a whole chest full of books. You might go visit him. . ."
"Mother. . ."
Gan Yu hadn't expected his old mother to have been thinking about this all along. His heart was deeply touched, and he felt the basket in his hands was almost a thousand catties heavy.
This single basket of eggs was nearly half of their family's meager assets.
However, at this moment, he said solemnly: "Yes, your son will go now. . ."
"Wait, there's no hurry for this. Eat your porridge first. . ."
...
Gan Yu, carrying a bamboo basket covered with indigo coarse cloth, walked along the bluestone slab path in the village.
Not long after, he arrived at a household.
This household was located in a corner of the village, appearing very quiet and secluded. A fence encircled its courtyard, but instead of chickens, a peach tree was planted within.
At this moment, a middle-aged man in a green robe was reading beneath the peach tree.
"Gan Yu pays his respects to Mr. Fang. . ."
Gan Yu bowed, recalling the rumors about this Mr. Fang in his mind.
Mr. Fang was a scholar-teacher, naturally fond of reading, and had failed examinations repeatedly. Later, he was invited by the Bai family to be a private tutor, specifically to instruct their children in reading.
Although several households in the village were surnamed Bai, only the wealthiest Bai family landlord could afford to hire a teacher.
It was said that when this teacher arrived, he brought a whole chest full of books, clearly a man of vast learning at first glance.
Little did they know. . .
At that time, Fang Xi had only just learned to speak, and then began to learn characters. . .
"Ah, it's A'Yu. . ."
Fang Xi put down the book in his hand and smiled slightly: "Since you've come all this way, there's no need to be so formal."
Having just arrived in this esteemed place, he didn't wish to stir up a bloody storm. So, after venturing out to collect some local books, he came to the small village where the Earth God resided earlier, and casually found an excuse to settle down.
Old Master Bai had merely seen him once by the roadside, and after Fang Xi performed a minor mesmerism spell on him, he was immediately struck with awe, hired him as a private tutor, and even painstakingly arranged his residence.
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