Ten years fly by in the blink of an eye.
Tianlong Temple.
In a newly born world.
Within the world, Spiritual Qi is so dense it almost forms a fog, swirling and permeating, refreshing the mind.
A flat and expansive Spirit Field sits at the center of the world, the most inconspicuous yet most central place.
Chen Sheng is dressed in simple monk's robes, holding an ancient wooden hoe, slowly bending over, loosening the soil and farming.
His movements are calm and composed, exuding a sense of nature's course and the Great Dao's simplicity.
Black Ebony and White Jiao, two demons, stand respectfully at the edge of the field ridge.
They watch their master's hoeing, plowing, piling, and pressing, exchanging whispers.
"Master's actions are not simply mundane farming."
"It's just that our Cultivation is shallow, our understanding low, unable to see the profound Dao hidden within."
