Just as I said, there's something off about Dawang Village

"What do you mean?"

The three visitors from the Earth City stood up, their expressions hostile as they glared at Li Mo. They had encountered resistance before—plenty of it.

Even Jiang Yu, who had issued the decree, likely never imagined that the Earth Cities, once submissive, would exploit their authority so ruthlessly.

Wielding borrowed power as if it were their own, they dared to push the villagers of the Human City to the brink of starvation.

And this audacity came from the fact that, aside from their gluttony, they didn’t even need to eat—courtesy of the Celestial Race.

"I find your proposal... uninteresting."

Li Mo refilled his teacup. "Open the gates and see them out!"

The doors of the ancestral hall were pushed open by the villagers inside, revealing a crowd of dark, weathered faces staring in.

They were eerily calm.

Over a decade ago, Dawang Village had been like any other ordinary settlement, trembling in fear of demons and monsters.

But now, they had banded together to drive off—or even kill—the creatures that occasionally strayed near their homes.

If they no longer feared those horrors, why would they be intimidated by a few stronger humans?

Moreover, Village Chief Li Mo had repeatedly taught them one truth:

The Human City would inevitably face famine. If everyone starved, they’d have no choice but to sell the land they’d toiled over.

That land would fall into the hands of the Earth City dwellers, who had food to spare. Once the famine passed, the bountiful years to come would never belong to their descendants again.

Some lessons might be hard to grasp, but this one—about the soil that had nurtured them—was crystal clear.

"After you. Once these doors close, they won’t open again just because you wish it."

"......"

The young man from the Earth City was about to make an example of them, but he was held back.

The middle-aged man clasped his hands toward Li Mo. "We’ll meet again!"

With that, he led the other two away.

"Uncle Deng, they’re just a bunch of peasants who don’t know what’s good for them. Why stop me?" the youth grumbled.

Uncle Deng shot him a glance and snorted.

"Didn’t you find the arrangements in that ancestral hall... strange?"

The tea table was crafted from the roots of a Hundred-Vine Demon; the burning candles were made from the fat of serpent-folk; the rug beneath their feet was the pelt of a Blackwind Bear.

What in the world? After encountering so many demons, Dawang Village was unnervingly peaceful!

And the villagers—they all seemed to practice some crude, unorthodox martial arts!

"If we’d fought back there, we might not have left that hall alive..."

The woman from the Earth City shuddered, then asked,

"But if we can’t bring Dawang Village under control, how do we report back?"

"If we can’t handle Dawang Village, the Celestial Race certainly can."

Uncle Deng mounted his horse. "Those villagers’ martial arts reek of demonic influence. This is serious—we must let the Celestial Race decide!"

The three rode off swiftly.

As they left the village, a figure slipped down from a tree.

Dong Erniu—once a scrawny kid trailing after Li Mo, begging for a "cool sword"—had grown into a man of remarkable talent.

Hidden in the branches, he’d gone unnoticed even by the Earth City warriors.

He hurried to the ancestral hall.

Meanwhile...

The trio had passed through towering, majestic city walls to seek an audience with the Celestial overseeing their region.

This Celestial took the form of a wild-eyed woman with sun-kissed skin and hair that stirred without wind. She appeared to be in her early thirties.

Rumors said she was exceptional even among her kind, born with violet auspicious light and capable of summoning storms with a mere gesture.

"People in the Human City... colluding with demons?"

Feng Zhi frowned, her tone icy. "Such trivial matters shouldn’t trouble me. Handle it yourselves."

To her, whether someone was from the Human City or Earth City made little difference.

"But the villagers of Dawang Village... they seem to have drawn power from demons."

The three trembled, and only Uncle Deng managed to speak.

The moment the words left his mouth—

Feng Zhi stood abruptly. A gust of wind yanked him before her.

"Are you certain of this?"

"Absolutely!"

She nodded and flicked her sleeve.

This was too grave to ignore. She had to see for herself.

A tempest swept her and the three into the sky, carrying them across vast distances in mere moments.

Within a quarter-hour, guided by the trio, she arrived outside Dawang Village.

Her gaze swept over neatly tended fields and lush mountains.

Farmers worked the land; hunters roamed the hills.

But the farmers didn’t bend their backs—instead, they crouched low, moving like giant mantises, their sickles slashing through weeds like blades.

One man, impatient with his ox’s pace, shoved the beast aside to graze and hitched himself to the plow, dragging it effortlessly through the soil.

The fields were bizarre enough.

The hunting scenes were downright absurd.

A hunter jabbed a finger at a wild boar and taunted,

"Come at me, you overgrown bacon!"

"Grunt?!"

No boar would tolerate such disrespect. Enraged, it charged.

The hunter smirked, braced himself, and slammed into the beast head-on.

THUD.

The boar flew backward, knocked out cold midair.

"See? I told you Dawang Village was weird!"

Uncle Deng pointed triumphantly.

Since when did normal people farm or hunt like this?

"Mantis, Raging Ox, Ironhorn Rhino..."

Feng Zhi recognized traces of those demons in their movements.

No demonic aura, but the mimicry was undeniable.

And more than that...

Not only was there no demonic presence—quite the opposite.

Was one of her kind living here?

Winds howled around her as her eyes gleamed faint cyan. She descended, following the energy’s source.

The Celestial Race was a scattered people; it wasn’t unheard of for one to wander the Human City, though encounters were rare given its vastness.

Then she saw it—a humble farmhouse.

Through the gate stood a figure of startling grace.

Her braided hair, rough-spun clothes, and snow-pale skin made her seem like a stroke of transcendent beauty misplaced in this world.

Celestials were beings of natural splendor, all fair beyond compare.

Yet beside her, even their radiance dimmed.

Ying Bing, clutching freshly washed clothes, frowned at the sky.

"Where’s this sudden wind coming from?"

Li Mo stepped out to help her gather the laundry.

"That’s the root of all evil—the village chief!" Uncle Deng declared, pointing at him.

Li Mo: "?"

Village Chief Li mused that if "evil" had a surname, it certainly wasn’t "Li."