Qingzhou, the eastern border.
High in the sky, the enormous void, once a gaping tear in the heavens, had vanished. In its place stood the thick, stable Celestial Dao Barrier of the Great Zhou world.
This was the thousand-li expanse of territory newly incorporated into the Great Zhou—the remnants of the former Cyan Nether Realm.
As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but grayish-brown wasteland and shattered mountains. Once a Secret Realm brimming with Spiritual Qi, it had been utterly reduced to a spirit-barren wasteland after the chaotic war between Divine Spirits and Chu Bai’s wholesale devouring of its essence.
The howling wind whipped up clouds of dust and sand, its sorrowful wail seeming to lament the demise of the old world.
Yet, in the heart of this desolate, silent wasteland, a single point of golden light flickered—faint, but unyieldingly tenacious.
"This place... is the Great Zhou?"
An old man dressed in a magnificent official robe and holding a Coiled Dragon Jade Staff stood atop a barren hill. He slowly opened his eyes, his gaze holding a trace of bewilderment at entering a new world, but filled far more with the relief and resolve of a survivor.
It was none other than the Lingma Land God, enfeoffed by Chu Bai.
He looked down at his current body.
It was no longer the clay effigy that had threatened to crumble at any moment, but a true Golden Body, condensed from Merit Golden Light and Divine Dao Origin.
Deep within his Sea of Consciousness, a Talisman Decree exuding the divine might of a Regular Eighth-Grade deity floated quietly, resonating with the thousand-li wasteland beneath his feet as if they were connected by blood.
"My Lord... You truly did it."
The Land God stretched out a trembling hand, caressing the parched, cracked earth beneath him.
He remembered it clearly. In the final moments of the world’s collapse, the young Lord Envoy had not treated him as a disposable pawn. Instead, using his finger as a brush and Merit as ink, he had forcefully elevated him from an Unranked Wild God to a True God.
The words, "You shall inherit the will of the Mountain God and perform the virtue of a guardian," still echoed in his ears like a great bell, shaking his very Divine Soul.
’My Lord’s grace not only saved my life but also granted me a tremendous fortuitous opportunity.’
The Land God slowly knelt and kowtowed deeply in the direction Chu Bai had departed.
"This old one was but rotten wood. Having received my Lord’s favor and not been abandoned, I will surely not fail his trust."
"Though this land is desolate, it is the foundation my Lord has left behind. Even if I must exhaust my Divine Soul, I will repair the Earth Veins, gather incense offerings, and protect this land for ten thousand generations!"
As his vow was made, the heavens and earth seemed to respond, and even the blowing wind softened slightly.
As the new god who had inherited the will of the Lingma Mountain God, his Status was not low. Regular Eighth-Grade was enough to be considered one of the Dukes in this remote borderland.
The awkward part, however, was that his foundation was far too shallow.
In this thousand-li expanse of land, the Spiritual Mechanism had been drained, all life was extinct, and there was nothing but rocks and sand.
Without worshipers, there are no incense offerings; without incense offerings, Divine Power is like a river without a source.
Relying solely on the small amount of Origin left by Chu Bai, he could maintain his Golden Body, but it was not enough to use Great Divine Techniques to sort out the tangled mess of Earth Veins.
’I need people.’
The Land God stood up, his gaze profound. ’With people comes the air of life; with the air of life comes Wish Power.’
He took a deep breath and slammed his Jade Staff onto the ground.
"Rise!"
The remaining Divine Power in his body surged out without reservation.
Beneath the hill, a tiny, previously severed and depleted Earth Vein struggled to reconnect under his guidance.
The earth trembled slightly.
A faint, almost imperceptible wisp of moist vapor seeped from a dry crack. Immediately after, a grass seed that had been buried deep in the dust for countless years, upon touching this wisp of life, tremblously pushed out a tender green sprout.
On this thousand-li expanse of gray wasteland, this single splash of green was incredibly dazzling.
This was his pledge of allegiance, and also the spark of hope.
「Three days later.」
Several streaks of light shot across the horizon as a cyan Flying Boat, bearing the banner of "Chuannan," broke through the clouds and slowly descended over the newly incorporated territory.
This was the reception team sent from Chuannan Prefecture, which bordered the Cyan Nether Realm.
On the deck of the Flying Boat, a Magistrate Governor from Chuannan Prefecture named Sun Yi looked down at the desolate scene below, his brow tightly furrowed.
Beside him stood a Steward from the Dao Record Department wearing an Eight Trigrams Magic Robe, along with several fully armed Prefecture Army Commanders.
"So this is the new thousand-li territory?"
Sun Yi covered his nose and mouth to block the oncoming sandstorm, a hint of disgust flashing in his eyes. "Nothing but rocks. Not even a shred of Spiritual Qi. What were the higher-ups thinking, assigning a wasteland like this to Chuannan Prefecture’s jurisdiction? Aren’t they just asking for trouble for us?"
"My Lord, watch your words."
The Dao Record Department Steward beside him held a Compass, his expression quite grave. "This land may be desolate, but its scale is immense. Besides... this is, after all, the remnant of a Celestial Examination Secret Realm. For it to have survived the turbulence of the void, it must have something extraordinary about it."
Sun Yi sighed. "Extraordinary? I’d say it’s more like extraordinarily troublesome. This kind of newly integrated Desolate Realm is the perfect breeding ground for Demons and ghouls. The last piece of land we annexed a few years ago... just clearing out the lingering malevolent spirits cost the prefecture’s treasury more than half a year’s savings."
Just as he spoke, the Compass in the Steward’s hand began to spin wildly. Its needle locked onto a hill below, erupting in a blinding golden light.
"Wh-what is this?!"
The Steward’s face paled, and he cried out in shock.
"What is it? A Great Demon?" The surrounding Prefecture Army Commanders instantly drew their blades, their killing intent surging.
"No... not a Demon!" The Steward’s eyes widened as he stared at the trigram displayed on the Compass, his voice trembling. "Pure Merit Golden Light! In this wasteland... there’s actually a Divine Spirit entrenched here?!"

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