My low-key cultivation of immortality was discovered by the emperor in my diary.

In countries such as Daqian and Dafan.

The dissipation of the demonic smoke pillar did not bring immediate peace; instead, it left behind chaos.

The once bustling and lively streets are now eerily silent and deserted.

Inside the market, stalls were overturned and goods were scattered, adding to the desolate atmosphere.

Many people lay on the ground, their faces contorted, their souls extinguished, never to awaken again.

Their lives were like cut weeds.

Those who awoke from their zombie-like state had eyes full of confusion and fear.

They looked around and felt that everything was so unfamiliar.

They tried to recall everything from the past, only to find themselves unconscious, in a daze, somehow ending up in this desolate wilderness, their loved ones nowhere to be found.

In the chaos and helplessness, someone was the first to resort to violence, and the situation quickly spiraled out of control.

Curses, cries, robbery, and slaughter.

After the bloodshed, everyone was on edge, and the chaos became increasingly difficult to quell.

In the land of Brahma, the once magnificent temples, teeming with countless believers, are now silent and deserted.

The monks, dressed in robes, stood solemnly, gently turning their prayer beads and chanting scriptures, praying for the innocent souls who perished in this calamity, wishing them peace and a swift ascent to paradise.

However, their chanting seemed unable to dispel the gloom that shrouded their hearts.

A young monk knelt before the gleaming golden body of the Buddha statue, tears welling in his eyes.

His face was contorted with confusion and pain, and his voice trembled as he asked, "Buddha, you save all living beings, so why do you not extend a helping hand to rescue us from this dire situation?"

His voice echoed in the empty hall, but received no response.

The Buddha statue remained seated quietly, its face compassionate and its eyes profound, as if it could see through all the joys and sorrows of the world, yet it maintained its eternal silence.

In the Great Qian Kingdom, the once mighty army is now demoralized, and the soldiers' eyes have lost their former sharpness, leaving only uncertainty about the future.

A stray soldier simply lay down on the desolate grassland.

The spear in his hand had long since disappeared, leaving only the sword at his waist.

He gazed at the gray sky and asked in a hoarse voice, "Our general is dead, our royal court has fallen, what else can we do?"

The soldiers around them looked at each other, equally bewildered and helpless.

They didn't know where to go, and if they didn't return to the barracks, would they be considered deserters and punished?

Just as these countries were descending into chaos and on the verge of collapse, the envoys of the Great Xia finally arrived.

Carrying the emperor's decree and the aid of the Great Xia Dynasty, they traversed thousands of mountains and rivers to reach these disaster-stricken countries.

On the distant, turbulent sea, ships flying the Great Xia flag sailed through the waves, also laden with relief supplies.

When the envoys of the Great Xia set foot on foreign soil, the people who were trapped in despair and confusion all showed expressions of surprise.

They couldn't believe that in such a time of crisis, another country would extend a helping hand and provide them with such timely assistance.

“Great Xia…you really came…” An old woman tightly grasped the hand of the Great Xia envoy, her eyes filled with tears, her voice choked with sobs.

"Thank you, thank you Great Xia!" A group of children surrounded the envoys of Great Xia, speaking in their childish Mandarin, thanking them again and again with big smiles on their faces.

In this unprecedented disaster, the Great Xia not only protected its own people, but also extended a helping hand to the people of other countries with its magnanimous spirit.

Like a timely rain.

This selfless assistance made the image of the Great Xia Dynasty more benevolent and powerful in the hearts of people from various countries.

Taking this opportunity, the Great Xia spread its Shinto beliefs to other countries.

In the countryside of the Great Brahma Kingdom, rescue teams from the Great Xia Dynasty traveled through the land, bringing food, water, and medicine.

A young soldier from the Great Xia Dynasty, carrying a small bag of grain on his shoulder, carefully made his way through the rubble to the group of elderly people.

"Grandpa, this is food for you. Eat it first, and we will continue to think of ways to help you."

The old man received the food with trembling hands and tears in his eyes; it had been a long time since he had felt such care.

Beside a dilapidated temple in the Great Brahma Kingdom, a physician from Great Xia was bandaging the wounds of an injured person with skillful and gentle movements.

"Master, this ointment may sting a little, but it's good for wound healing," the doctor said gently.

The monk, enduring the pain, nodded.

A hint of gratitude flashed in his eyes. He clasped his hands together and softly uttered "Amitabha."

Mahata remained silent regarding the spread of faith in Bactria and never tried to stop it.

Of course, some devout Buddhists expressed their dissatisfaction and anger, believing that this would pollute this sacred Buddhist land and defile its holiness and solemnity.

But in the face of a larger number of believers who welcome and accept them, the voices of these rejecters seem so weak.