The sky appeared as a vast dome, stretching over the boundless yellow earth.

Under the light transitioning from darkness to dawn, the newborn red sun leaped above the horizon, its rays seemingly filtered through a layer of gauze, hazy and indistinct.

The air was dry, with something like fog or haze floating across the plain.

Ji Chen squinted into the distance, where the silhouettes of withered trees stood frozen in the thick mist.

Their branches were bare, their trunks shriveled, resembling elderly people in their twilight years.

It was already early summer. At Yaoguang Lake, countless weeping willows hung like curtains. In Huawei City, tall locust trees lined the streets like canopies and irritating cicada songs echoed throughout the entire city.

But in the villages on the western edge of Qianqu County, summer’s most vibrant vitality had been completely forgotten.

No cicadas were chirping or birds calling, only howling winds across the desolate wilderness. Gusts of sand rose and fell, stinging people’s cheeks with pain.

“When I was little, this was the biggest forest in all of Qianqu, stretching from east to west for seven or eight li. There were elms in the east and poplars in the west, so lush green you couldn’t see the edge. When children ventured into the forest, they couldn’t see the sun at all, and once lost, they couldn’t find their way out.

“Later, within a single night, half the trees died. That year happened to be a famine, and after all the wild grassroots were dug up, people ate tree leaves and stripped bark, causing trees to die even faster. After the famine passed, there was a severe drought. Anyway, after all these years of suffering, the entire forest is gone.”

The speaker was a thin, withered old man. He leaned on a walking stick with his right hand while his son supported his left arm. Standing before the new Director of Agriculture Liu Er, he sighed slowly and faintly:

“Now when we tell the village children about the forest, they don’t believe us. Who knows what happened that year? Some say a celestial official cast a spell that ruined the feng shui…”

The middle-aged man supporting the elder exclaimed in alarm: “Father, how can you speak ill of the celestial officials!”

The old man remained dull-eyed and unafraid, bowing mechanically: “Yes, yes, I’m old and confused, nearly at death’s door. Please spare my son this time, great Director.”

“I wouldn’t dare, I wouldn’t dare.” Carpenter Liu Er hurriedly helped them up.

Even though he had changed into new robes and wore a tall official hat, he found it difficult to see himself as Director Liu.

He still felt like a carpenter, and his tone was like asking a customer about their requirements for wooden furniture: “Elder Zhang, our main purpose in coming here is to inspect the land and see what everyone needs.

“Can the grain we sent last time last until the autumn harvest? Are the chicken and duck chicks surviving? Are there any pest infestations in the fields? As for plans, we must follow the new celestial official’s arrangements. Now, everyone should speak freely about what’s on your mind.”

The villagers timidly followed behind their clan elder, each one thin, withered, and dark-skinned, like standing cornstalks.

Some had dealt with Carpenter Liu before and, seeing that he still behaved as he used to without putting on official airs, they grew bolder:

“What exactly does the new celestial official intend?”

“I heard that all those previous taxes will be abolished. Will there be new taxes?”

“Someone from the township said the new celestial official is feeding us to prepare for altar sacrifices to heaven…”

A new official starts with three fires. Even when a minor official in the township changes, they’ll strip a layer of skin from the village, not to mention the highest celestial official.

The new celestial official’s unusual actions had made the entire Qianqu County as joyful as during New Year celebrations, with every household rejoicing and feeling fortunate.

Good times never last long. As incredible rumors spread, they fell like a heavy stone, shattering the joyful atmosphere.

“Who said there will be new taxes? Only landowners with over a hundred mu of land need to pay the ‘land tax.’ And sacrifices to heaven are nonsense. If you don’t believe me, go to Tiancheng and see for yourselves. The temples are locked up, and no one is allowed to enter for worship. There’s not even a place to make sacrifices.”

“You said the temples are locked?” The old clan elder suddenly grabbed Carpenter Liu’s hand. “No more offerings?”

Carpenter Liu was startled, not expecting that this frail, withered man could still exert such strength:

“The new celestial official locked them on his first day in office. He’s a good person, distributing grain and chickens. Why can’t you think well of him?”

The villagers mumbled, unable to articulate specific reasons, their expressions awkward and hesitant.

Carpenter Liu solemnly said: “The new celestial official has already cast a spell on your village’s fields. The millet will sprout by tomorrow morning!”

The crowd erupted in excitement.

This year there was a water shortage, and the soil was so hard it was almost impossible to plow, causing anxiety throughout the village.

The old clan elder again grasped Carpenter Liu’s hand: “Really!”

Carpenter Liu said: “I’ve personally witnessed the celestial official cast the spell. You can ask the neighboring village; their beans have already sprouted. If I speak falsely, may heaven strike me with thunder!”

With this desperate oath, the villagers’ mood changed, and they couldn’t contain their joy:

“Is the celestial official sitting in the cloud pavilion in Tiancheng, pointing his finger to cast spells on our land?”

“Truly the skill of an immortal! Thank you, celestial official! Thank you, Director!”

The old clan elder pointed to a distance and asked curiously: “Who is that young man? Why are so many people gathered around him?”

Once mentioned, everyone’s curiosity was piqued: “Yes, we saw him walking in the village fields yesterday. He didn’t sleep even late at night, just kept wandering. Early this morning, he was wandering again among these withered trees outside the village.”

Carpenter Liu turned to look and paused.

Among the withered trees, a figure knelt on the ground, slowly caressing the dry, hard soil with a serious expression.

Beside him stood more than ten young people, all watching him, strangely resembling children surrounding their father.

Then he stood up, beckoned, and someone timely handed him a shovel, and he began digging holes, as if planning to plant saplings.

Seeing this scene, complex emotions filled Carpenter Liu’s eyes—admiration, respect, gratitude almost overflowing, with a hint of pride visible.

But he didn’t answer, only saying:

“When we leave, you’ll know.”

…

Song Qian Ji would first feel the soil wherever he went.

To prevent people from kneeling before him, he didn’t reveal his identity.

Carpenter Liu guessed that the new celestial official preferred to keep a low profile, only informing local villagers of his identity as he was about to leave.

Seeing Song Qian Ji begin working, Ji Chen also picked up a shovel and started digging: “What can we plant in this withered forest? Millet or beans?”

“Not grain, just trees and grass,” said Song Qian Ji.

Ji Chen sighed: “Such a large piece of land, what a waste.”

Song Qian Ji found this normal—planting was planting, no matter what, and the joy remained undiminished!

Originally, this forest served as a windbreak and sand barrier for Qianqu County, a natural protective screen.

Not every piece of land should be used for growing grain.

Qianqu was vast with a sparse population, larger than a hundred Huawei Cities combined. The latter had a population of over a million, while Qianqu had merely a hundred thousand.

The land that people farmed and could produce grain was already scarce.

Some soil was barren and lacked fertilizer, some were hard and lacked water, some suffered from black sandstorms and droughts for most of the year, and some were crisscrossed with ravines where roads couldn’t even be built.

Now in Qianqu, yields per mu were extremely low, plagued by all five calamities.

Large-scale land reclamation would only result in more wasteland. Repairing barriers, protecting water and soil, and nurturing spiritual energy were more important than reclamation.

Song Qian Ji and the Immortal Spring were becoming increasingly in sync, though he still couldn’t fully utilize such a heavenly treasure.

What he secretly released was only the spiritual mist floating from the bottle’s mouth.

The spiritual mist nourished his meridians and ultimately, through his fingertips, quickly permeated the soil.

The sleeping land seemed to awaken, with vitality emerging from nothing.

He enjoyed creating vitality; this sense of achievement was similar to sowing and harvesting, making him smile with satisfaction.

“Creating life is more difficult than destroying it.”

Song Qian Ji recalled this saying again, told to him by an old monk in his previous life.

The monk had traveled everywhere preaching, which Song Qian Ji hadn’t taken seriously. After being reborn and farming, many ideas he hadn’t agreed with or understood gradually became clear in his mind.

Would he ever meet that wandering old monk again?

This thought flashed by. But just like wanting to meet the “savior” Wei Zhen Yu, he didn’t have a desperate obsession to see them.

When Ji Chen and the other outer sect disciples first witnessed this, they thought Song Qian Ji was simply infusing his spiritual energy into the soil, which amazed them.

Someone suggested: “Let’s all help, to ease Disciple Brother Song’s burden.”

Song Qian Ji firmly refused: “My cultivation method is different from others. Your help would have no effect and would only waste spiritual energy.”

In private discussions about this matter, people couldn’t help but add a touch of self-pity.

Ji Chen shook his head: “I truly admire Brother Song’s dedication to Qianqu.”

Ji Xing: “He does so much for Qianqu, yet the people hardly appreciate it.”

Zhou Xiaoyun consoled them: “Previous celestial officials have fooled the common people and left behind a mess. We’ve just arrived, distributed some supplies, and let people eat full meals for a few days—is that enough to establish trust? When pie falls from the sky, people will always suspect it’s a trap.”

After the self-pity came mutual encouragement.

Qiu Dacheng: “Disciple Brother Song excels in both chess and literature, such an extraordinary genius, yet he still tills the fields himself. What we’re doing is nothing in comparison.”

Xu Kanshan: “Qianqu was once a treasure land, now fallen to this state. What skill is there in cultivators finding auspicious lands? We can create one ourselves! Let’s help Qianqu regain spiritual energy and restore vitality under our care.”

With Song Qian Ji “leading by example,” the outer sect disciples united in purpose, whether delivering chickens to villages or hunting in the forest as if they were undertaking a world-changing endeavor.

Song Qian Ji put down his shovel and summoned the new Director of Agriculture:

“After I leave, please tell everyone that they can now plant the saplings distributed earlier. Someone will come to check at harvest time, and for each surviving sapling, they will be rewarded with two liang of grain.”

Liu Er nodded repeatedly, mentally calculating that if the planted saplings miraculously all survived, the village wouldn’t need to farm this year—just planting trees would be enough to fill their stomachs and save surplus grain for the New Year.

The new celestial official was too merciful.

“Do you need to rest?” Carpenter Liu respectfully asked. “You’ve been traveling for half a month.”

After interacting with the outer sect disciples, he knew that cultivators were once ordinary people too, could be injured in battles, and their magic wasn’t infinite—excessive use would still cause fatigue.

The new celestial official must have expended considerable energy casting spells everywhere.

“On to the next village,” Song Qian Ji was still energetic as he waved his hand. “Get on the boat!”

In his Purple Palace, the Immortal Spring responded to his will with a gentle hum, radiating seven-colored light.

Song Qian Ji led his team throughout Qianqu.

Many years later, this experience appeared in Carpenter Liu’s late-life memoir—

The opening of “Walking with the Divine King.”

The now literate and learned Liu Er wrote with decent skill, and under the unceasing candlelight in his study at night, he recorded precious memories in simple yet sincere words:

If you come from overseas and ask where the center of the Four Great Continents is, everyone will tell you that it is, of course, Qianqu County.

Qianqu, the capital of a thousand chariots, is rich, beautiful, prosperous, and flourishing. Travelers yearn for it in their dreams, and poets write verses about it, calling it the birthplace of miracles.

Here stands the longest bridge, the largest reservoir, the most windmills, the most advanced metallurgy, the most precise irrigation magic tools, the safest formation arrays, and the most complete laws.

This place blurs the boundary between cultivators and ordinary people, constantly creating miracles and bringing great changes to the entire world.

Qianqu’s rise wasn’t smooth sailing; it was accompanied by struggles of blood and fire. Countless towering heroes have risked their lives for it.

I am just one insignificant builder of Qianqu and a witness to this history.

The beginning of all legends starts when Celestial Lord Song sets foot on this barren land.

When he arrived here, he sealed the temples and spoke his first words to the people: “Do not worship me, I will not fulfill any of your wishes.”

Even when Qianqu became peaceful with favorable weather and green fields everywhere, when he became the spiritual belief of countless people, he still said: “Do not worship me, I will not fulfill any of your wishes.”

Many years later, I finally understood Celestial Official Song’s true meaning:

Everything depends not on praying to gods and Buddhas, but on creating with one’s own hands—that is the true spirit of Qianqu.

But at that time, people didn’t understand, and neither did I.

The fifteen-year-old Celestial Lord Song, standing quietly in the fields, seemed more like a gentle young man.

Not a Divine King who would change heaven and earth, creating a new world.

…

This book, “Walking with the Divine King,” sold out immediately upon publication and was later exported overseas.

People tried to glimpse the true faces of Song Qian Ji and those familiar names, the romantic figures, through the gaps between simple words.

But that was many years later.

Now, Song Qian Ji had just received a handwritten reply from Celestial Official Liu of neighboring Hongfu County, inviting him to meet at the border between the two counties.

“We can prepare to build the canal now,” Song Qian Ji said.

Meng He Ze read the letter over and over, skipping the long strings of polite formalities, but couldn’t detect any sign of compromise from the other party. He couldn’t help but worry:

“Brother Song, this Liu Hongshan seems to be trying to extort us. I heard he’s about to break through to the Yuan Ying stage and won’t be easy to deal with. This letter is written in such a roundabout, convoluted way.”

Song Qian Ji smiled: “It’s fine.”

His calm “It’s fine” gave Meng He Ze confidence: “Good! Who’s afraid of whom? Let them come!”

Song Qian Ji summoned the Director of Ceremonies: “Post an announcement that the Celestial Official’s Office is recruiting people to dig canals and repair waterways. Food and lodging were provided, plus two jin of grain and half a jin of pork daily. Oh, you and the Director of Military Affairs have been idle lately, you can also join. Those people who previously brought offerings to the temple seem to have nothing to do as well—you might as well call them all in.”

The Director of Ceremonies was stunned.

Have they built waterways? What a joke. For this small amount of grain and meat, which noble clan elder would be willing to do such hard labor?

He felt Song Qian Ji was deliberately making things difficult, with deeper intentions. He cautiously probed: “When do we start? Aren’t you about to leave?”

Calculating the time, their gifts and Elder Li’s letter should have already reached Celestial Official Liu’s hands.

Thinking of this, he barely contained his excitement.

Song Qian Ji glanced at him, his expression showing no displeasure, only calmly saying:

“Recruit people.”

This glance put immense pressure on the Director of Ceremonies, making it difficult for him to breathe as cold sweat instantly broke out:

“Yes, Great Celestial Official!”

For three years, Qianqu had seen no rain. Most villages outside Tiancheng survived on well water.

In the southwest, droughts came without warning or reason. One day, wells would suddenly run dry.

People would cross ravines to fetch water from neighboring villages. With good luck, the neighboring well would have water; with bad luck, they could only leave it to fate.

The north, close to the Poisonous Barrier Forest, had even more unreasonable fierce beasts.

High-level demon beasts had strong territorial instincts. They marked their territories in the center of the Poisonous Barrier Forest, driving lower-level demon beasts to the forest edge.

So, lower-level demon beasts would sneak out at night, devouring people and destroying fields.

This year was different. After the new celestial official took office, he traveled throughout Qianqu casting spells. The new Director of Agriculture then promoted curved-beam plows.

Despite the drought in the southwest, seeds still sprouted. Green seedlings grew taller day by day, thriving.

In the north, a hunting team composed of celestial masters, with disciples of the celestial official taking turns on duty, completely reversed the food chain between humans and demon beasts.

Demon beasts were large, and the northerners had meat with every meal. What they couldn’t finish was hung to dry, saved for the New Year, and some were even sent to relatives in neighboring villages.

Once the news that “the celestial official is recruiting people to dig canals and bring water from neighboring counties” spread, it immediately caused a sensation everywhere:

“Not building temples or expanding the celestial official’s mansion, but digging waterways?”

“Are you stupid? The temples have long been sealed shut. I believe in Celestial Official Song!”

“If building canals means our village will never worry about water again, I’ll do it even without payment or grain.”

Many people remained skeptical. Previously, when recruiting laborers to build temples, many benefits were initially promised. But upon arriving in Tiancheng, they were forced to work day and night, and the slightest slacking would earn them a lash from the foreman.

Not enough food, not enough sleep, daily beatings—it was unbearably miserable.

“Three meals a day, plus pork? How could there be such a good deal?”

While Meng He Ze and Ji Chen accompanied Song Qian Ji to the border for negotiations, the four-person chicken delivery team was responsible for this recruitment registration.

Ji Xing went out to check the situation, while the other three sat indoors, frowning with worry.

Zhou Xiaoyun: “What if we can’t recruit enough people? We can’t force them to work, can we?”

The outer sect disciples used to work at Huawei Sect, and the thing they hated most was being forcibly assigned dirty and exhausting tasks by the stewards.

Xu Kanshan slapped his thigh: “Then we’ll have to work hard ourselves! Call back the hunting teams from the Poisonous Barrier Forest. Cultivators are strong and work fast.”

Qiu Dacheng said: “With hands and feet, what can’t we do!”

Suddenly, Ji Xing burst through the door: “Not good, not good! Why are you all still sitting here?”

Xu Kanshan was shocked: “Has Huawei Sect sent elders to arrest us? Have they already invaded Qianqu so quickly?”

“Nonsense!” Ji Xing angrily said, “It’s the people coming to register. They’ve blocked the entire street! We only need a thousand, but there are nearly five thousand outside! Come with me quickly!”