Transcending two realms to become an earth immortal

Four heads, their eyes wide with rage and their expressions frozen in fury, rolled onto the scorched earth, hot blood gushing from their necks like a fountain, instantly staining a large patch of land red.

A strong stench of blood suddenly filled the air.

The witch's ferocious expression froze instantly, turning deathly pale in a flash.

With a soft "hiss," dark water stains suddenly spread across the hem of the gorgeous silk robe, and a foul odor mixed with sandalwood rose up... causing the crotch of the pants to rip in shock.

Her body, limp and flabby like mud, tumbled off the sedan chair, fell to her knees with a thud, and kowtowed repeatedly.

"Immortal, Immortal Master, spare my life! This old woman... this lowly woman, I was just trying to make a living, my crime doesn't deserve death, my crime doesn't deserve death!"

This act of venting and kneeling truly tore away the last veil of pretense.

The villagers behind were stunned, as if struck by lightning. After a long while, someone suddenly roared out:

"Give me back my three bushels of life-saving rations!"

"My daughter was only nine years old... I sold her to Butcher Zhang in the county for two taels of silver for incense offerings!"

"Tear this whore's skin off!"

The frenzied crowd burst forth like a flood.

Countless withered claws swarmed forward, tearing at the magnificent sacrificial robes. The witch's hair was pulled out of shape, her face covered in bloody nail marks, and her wails were drowned out by the overwhelming hatred.

Fang Chen stood quietly outside the crowd, his gaze sweeping over the still scorching sun, the cracked earth, the withered grass and trees... The surrounding scenery showed no illusory fluctuations, and this [Old World Light and Shadow] still weighed heavily on the world.

"Simply discerning the truth from falsehood isn't enough. Do you really expect heavenly rain to fall?" Fang Chen frowned slightly.

As the saying goes, the great power that can change the celestial phenomena of thousands of miles, determine the rise and fall of a place, and ward off disasters and pray for blessings must be either the "Primordial Spirit Immortal" in the Taoist legend system or the "Golden Edict True God" in the divine system!

This was something that a mere cultivator who had not yet entered the Dao could not possibly achieve.

However, as his gaze swept over those withered faces, and into those sunken eyes, where a faint hope flickered like a candle in the wind, Fang Chen felt a sense of disorientation.

Perhaps at this moment, whether the rain is "real" or not is no longer the most crucial point.

"So be it." Fang Chen sighed.

He took out a yellow talisman that he had prepared beforehand from his sleeve. The talisman paper was written with cinnabar lines and was deep red.

With just one flick, it spontaneously combusted without fire, turning into blue smoke.

Suddenly, a strong wind arose, causing the villagers who were tearing at the witch to stop in surprise and instinctively look up at the sky.

But then, under a clear blue sky, dark clouds suddenly appeared from nowhere and quickly gathered above the village.

Although it couldn't completely block out the scorching sun, it did cast a large patch of chilling shade.

"Clouds...it's clouds!" The old man who had greeted Fang Chen at the village entrance looked up at the sky, his whole body trembling violently, his dry lips quivering.

Before he finished speaking, a muffled clap of thunder seemed to roll across the ground.

Immediately afterwards, fine, slightly cool water droplets sparsely landed on people's upturned faces and dry, cracked skin.

"Water...it's water!" An old farmer stretched out his bark-like hand, caught a few raindrops, looked at them closely, and suddenly let out a howl that sounded like both crying and laughing.

"It's raining...really...it's raining?" The woman holding the emaciated baby looked up, letting the raindrops hit her face. Her eyes stung, but she couldn't shed a single tear.

"They're in the water! Heaven has opened its eyes!!!" A shirtless man suddenly knelt down, raised his hands to the sky, and let out a heart-wrenching howl.

Splash!

Before long, a torrential downpour began in Qingshi Village!

However, upon closer inspection, one can notice that although the rain appears to be torrential, it doesn't moisten the soil much upon landing, and it doesn't taste particularly cool or sweet. Even the intense sunlight can still penetrate the rain curtain, bringing a touch of heat...

Clearly, this is nothing more than a reflection in water or a flower in a mirror, a mere illusion created by a talisman.

However, Fang Chen, the one who performed the spell, suddenly changed his expression.

Because he clearly sensed that the clouds gathering above his head did not dissipate due to the exhaustion of the talisman's power, but instead surged and grew stronger on their own.

The gray-white clouds quickly darkened, turning leaden gray, and then inky black, layer upon layer, completely obscuring the clear sky in the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.

The sky and earth suddenly darkened, and rolling thunder boomed continuously from the depths of the clouds.

Immediately afterwards, a real, torrential downpour, brimming with moisture, arrived with a roar!

The rain truly soaked the land, forming streams that drenched the villagers' tattered clothes, bringing a long-awaited, bone-chilling coolness and vitality.

In the rain, the villagers first stood frozen, then became overjoyed, dancing and crying, their emotions of mixed sorrow and joy reaching their peak.

Under the torrential rain, their figures seemed to undergo a strange and subtle change—

The infant in the swaddling clothes suddenly showed charred marks on its skin and flesh, as if burned by a raging fire, and its small body was covered with shocking bite marks.

The woman holding the child instantly became as withered as a skeleton, her eye sockets turning into two dark, hollow holes.

The strong man who had just roared to the sky now had a clean cut on his neck, and his body was covered with countless deep, bone-revealing wounds from battle.

The old men, on the other hand, turned into skeletons wrapped in tattered rags...

But this terrifying sight lasted only a moment, as if it were just an illusion caused by the heavy rain.

In the blink of an eye, everything returned to normal.

No, it's becoming better than normal.

In the torrential rain, the drought that had plagued thousands of miles seemed to have truly been dispelled.

The baby's skin regained its rosy pink color, the woman's cheeks became fuller and her eyes brightened, the men's muscles and bones became stronger and more robust, and even the wrinkles on the old man's face seemed to have been smoothed out, giving him a more vibrant appearance.

In the cracked fields, the rice stalks are turning green, heading, and becoming golden and plump at a visible speed, weighing heavily on the ridges. In the distance, the faint sounds of roosters crowing and dogs barking can be heard, and the air seems to carry the sweet fragrance of melons and fruits and the aroma of ripening grains...

In the blink of an eye, the desolate village has transformed into a bustling and prosperous scene of a golden age!

The villagers, their lives restored, greeted Fang Chen with sincere and warm smiles as they walked towards him, surrounding him as he entered the village.

The finest preserved wine was brought out, and chickens and pigs were slaughtered, preparing a grand farm feast.

After everyone was seated in the main seat, a cheerful child stepped forward and offered them a peach.

The peaches were quite beautiful, their skin shrouded in a thin layer of night mist, with a touch of crimson at the tip, as vibrant as vermilion. When you brought them close, a sweet fragrance wafted out, carrying a subtle, ethereal quality reminiscent of incense from an ancient temple.

Fang Chen looked at the peach and remained silent for a moment.

He didn't go to accept it, but instead, at the dinner table, he piled rice into a mound, stood chopsticks upright on top, clasped his hands in a respectful bow, and solemnly said:

"Thank you all for your hospitality."

The old man from the village entrance immediately stood up, walked shakily to Fang Chen, bowed deeply, and his voice choked with emotion:

"Master, what are you saying... You flatter us so much. If it weren't for your compassion in resentment and rescuing us from this sea of ​​suffering, where would this peace be now?"

Fang Chen remained silent. How could a mere illusionary rain and a single act of justice be called salvation?

Looking at the satisfaction in the villagers' eyes, he finally understood that for the villagers who were suffering from endless drought and deception, it was enough that someone was willing to stand up for them and speak out, and that someone was willing to pray for rain.

"Master Daoist..." The old man raised his cloudy, tearful eyes, his words filled with sorrow, "We are all long dead. Now that all our attachments have vanished, our souls will scatter and disappear from this world, leaving us with no more ties. It is you, Master Daoist, who suffers in this turbid and evil world, struggling in vain and sinking into its depravity..."

Fang Chen remained silent for a moment, the cold wind of the wilderness seemingly piercing through the warmth of the banquet. After a long while, he slowly spoke:

"Our predecessors have exhausted the path, leaving behind this turbid and evil world. This world... can only be dealt with by us, their descendants. If everyone only thinks about their own liberation or escape, only cares about taking without thinking about giving back, then this world will truly have no hope at all."

Upon hearing this, the old man paused, his expression a mixture of surprise and complex emotions, which ultimately settled into admiration. He bowed deeply once more.

"Dao Chang is benevolent."

All the villagers at the table, regardless of age or gender, put down their bowls and chopsticks, rose from their seats, faced Fang Chen, and bowed in unison, silently but solemnly.

"Dao Chang is benevolent."

Fang Chen returned the greeting.

When he straightened up again, all the noise, warmth, aroma of food, smiles of the villagers... everything receded like the tide.

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself in a desolate graveyard. The sky was dark and gloomy, with thousands of lonely graves and ruins. There was also a vast expanse of demonic aura and foul smells. It was a desolate dead land, a turbid and evil world, which made him feel very sad.

Where does the fine wine and delicacies come from? Where does the bountiful harvest and prosperous scene come from? Where does the blazing sun come from?

It was nothing more than a fleeting dream in the shadows of the past.

It's as if the clear-cut justice of heaven and the retribution for good and evil are nothing but remnants of the old world, mere fantasies born on a dream pillow when people in dire straits are powerless.

The dream of wielding a sword to slay all demons and restore peace to the world is nothing more than a self-comforting fantasy of an ant powerless to resist.

But... is that really the case?

At this moment, Fang Chen slowly raised his right hand.

On that pale, cold palm, a rosy peach, both real and ethereal, shimmering with a mystical light, rested serenely.

The surroundings were dark, but at some point, tiny, faint lights began to appear.

The points of light, like fireflies, stars, and glimmers, floated and shimmered, swirling and gathering, coming from nothingness and disappearing into his body.

This is the power of thought and the power of vows; it is the remaining hope of countless sentient beings who have suffered injustice and pain after being liberated!

In an instant, hundreds of points of light converged, transforming into a trickle of water that surged into the depths of his consciousness, illuminating a silent and dark space.

Where the light converges, the outline of an ancient mirror is clearly reflected.

The mirror is mottled and dark with verdigris, bearing the marks of time. It appears simple and unadorned, yet the treasure remains hidden.

Yet its mirror surface is unfathomably deep, as if it contains the flow of time throughout eternity, reflecting the infinite light and shadow of the past and future.

Below the mirror, two characters are inscribed in ancient cloud seal script, the strokes flowing like dragons and snakes, exuding a Taoist charm, mysterious and extraordinary:

Kunlun!