Chapter 1111 — Oh, So This Is the Mortal Realm
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 2 of 3
Too high and too far, and you will not see the suffering of all beings; too high and too far, and you will lose the impetus to press forward; too high and too far, and you will forget your own true heart and original intent.
" He walked among the towering sacred mountains of the Primal World, watching the gods celebrating with fervor, watching all beings suffer exactly as before.
From Longhan to Chiming, from Shanghuang to Kaihuang, and on to Jingping, generation after generation of people of vision and resolve had striven — not for personal power or position, not for personal desire or wealth, but for the simplest of convictions: to cast out the gods in the heart, and to cast out the gods in the temple.
Night fell, and the curtain of darkness was drawn across the Primal World. His breast surged with emotion; he pressed on through the night with a lantern, a strange feeling rising and falling in his heart like the waters of the Heavenly River.
He was like a wayfarer carrying a lamp into the primeval darkness of history, searching in the gloom for the footprints left by the sages of old, for their spirit like candle flames in the dark. That was a spirit branded into the very blood of ordinary people — simple and plain, yet so stirring that to touch it was to feel tears spring to the eyes and the blood run hot.
Their simple, plain spirit was stamped deep upon the dark sky of history; when future wayfarers carried their lanterns into that darkness, the light would cut through the black, and their spirit would blaze like a host of stars, inspiring all who came after.
Shen Mu did not stop. From the darkness came the long, drawn-out roars of ancient gods and demons, and in the distance the sacred mountains crouched like enormous beasts in the night.
In the darkness, a demigod deity caught sight of him and cried out: "Venerable Mu——" Shen Mu started; only then did he remember that he still wore the face of Mu Qing.
He slipped away from the demigods who sought to hunt him down, changing his form until he looked like one of them.
He walked from night into dawn, and from day into night, gradually drawing near to the lands of the human race. One morning he arrived at the human lands of the Longhan Era; sunlight spilled down upon his travel-worn face.
He smiled at the sight of people working in the fields, at a village not far off, and at adepts teaching children how to open their divine storehouses and become martial artists.
In the distance there were human cities as well, where industrious merchant caravans were already setting out for the cities of other later-born races nearby to trade their wares.
All was tranquil here; wisps of cooking smoke curled up from the village, and the people lived and worked in peace and contentment.
Shen Mu put away his lantern and walked forward into the rising sun, a smile upon his face.
Suddenly the sky convulsed violently, and the people raised their heads in panic, staring blankly at the heavens.
Shen Mu looked up and saw the tilting Heavenly River — like an incomparably vast white python hanging across the sky — shuddering violently as it plunged down upon the Primal World!
"The course of the Heavenly River has changed.
.
.
" Shen Mu's mind went blank. The Heavenly River had once flowed out from Xuandu, coursed through the Four Extreme Heavens, then from the Eastern Extreme Heaven into the Primal World; after passing the Celestial Court, it entered the skies of the Primal World.
Many branches of the great river pierced through the many heavens of the Primal World, then flowed out from those heavens and gathered together once more.
This great river that threaded the entire cosmos drifted across the sky of the Primal World, cut into the Nether Capital to become the Nether River, and poured at last into the abyss of Guixu.
But now the Celestial Court had risen, and the course of the Heavenly River was changed!