The Heavenly Dao Origin Space has no up or down, no four directions, no dawn or dusk, only an ever-churning gray and Chaos. That gray is not cloud, not fog, nor anything that can be named; it is the embers after all rules have shattered, the underlying color before the birth of all things and after their annihilation. There are no mountains, no water, no sounds of wind or thunder, only the occasional floating broken chains emitting a barely audible mournful wail. Those chains once ruled the heavens, inscribed with the cycle of the seasons, the constancy of life and death, the infallibility of Causality and effect, and the order of nobility and lowliness; now they are either broken into several pieces or twisted into loops, the inscriptions carved on the chains peeling off in large patches, like the gold paint peeling off the face of an ancient god, revealing the pale and fearful true nature beneath.
Pangu True Body stood in this boundless land.
He was neither the complete Pangu, nor a remnant soul, nor a phantom with mere power. He was the "old body" summoned back by the combined power of the Sanqing Ones and the blood of the Twelve Ancestral Witches, a will forcibly preserved by time at the moment of Heaven-Opening and Earth-Creating. His form was tens of millions of feet tall, standing on a slowly rotating phantom of a Chaos Green Lotus, each pattern on the Green Lotus resembling a newly born galaxy. In his left hand Pangu Banner, its surface unfurling without wind, the four colors Origin black, white, red, and yellow Inhalation and Exhalation from its depths; in his right hand Heaven-Opening Axe, its blade not gleaming, but rather shrouded in the dim yellow of the primordial Primordial Wilderness, as if the axe blade had never truly left the Chaos, but had only been temporarily borrowed by time.
The three beams of pure light from the Sanqing encircled his shoulders and back, like three rivers flowing down from the Taichu time. The light of Yuqing Shangqing clear and solemn, the light of Supreme Taiqing was sharp and deadly, and the light of Qiang Liang Houtu was faint and Gonggong. The laws of the Twelve Ancestral Witches wrapped around his limbs and bones: the wind of Dijiang overlapped with time, the day and night of Zhu Jiuyin flickered on his wrists, and the thickness of Houtu, the cold of Xuan Ming, the surge of Gonggong, the thunder of Xi Zi, the lightning of Tian Wu, the She Bi Shi of Tianwu, the timing of Yan Zi, the birth of Ju Mang, and the killing of Ru Shou —twelve lines surged beneath his skin and flesh, like twelve primordial Primordial Wilderness veins awakened.
With each breath, this Origin Space expands and contracts; with each heartbeat, an invisible palace trembles gently in the gray depths.
The Heavenly Dao Consciousness has long lost its human form. It once sat high above the void, viewing the Primordial Wilderness world as a chessboard and all living beings as black and white pieces on the board. It used Hongjun's hand to make moves, the momentum of the Tribulation to reshuffle the deck, and the battles between Saint, sects, demons, witches, and immortals to prune any branches that might escape its control. But now the chessboard has been overturned, and the hand that held the pieces has been severed. It is left with only boundless gray-white mist, within which float broken chains of laws and shattered inscriptions. The more fragmented those things are, the larger it becomes; the larger it becomes, the more hollow it becomes. It is like a bell hollowed out by time, still ringing, but no longer able to strike out order, only a buzzing noise remains.
When the first axe fell, there was no sound beforehand, only light.
The light did not emanate from the axe blade, but rather from the very fact of being "cleaved." A rift stretching millions of miles was torn open in the gray-white mist, and on either side of the rift, the rules curled up like frayed fabric. Through the rift, the Heavenly Dao Origin Core could be seen—a Chaos sphere of light. Within this sphere, countless Lesser Thousand World were born and died in Reincarnation: some worlds rose and fell in the blink of an eye, some civilizations reached their end in the blink of an eye, and some beings prayed in silence, only to turn into dust in their prayers. These births and deaths were not illusory, but rather the past and future forcibly incorporated into the Heavenly Dao's grasp.
The gray-white mist contracted violently, trying to heal the wound. But there was a dark red scar at the healed area, and viscous gray-white liquid oozed out. As soon as the liquid fell, countless small whirlpools appeared in the original space, and the whirlpools reflected the ancient wind and rain: red rain when the sky cracked, blood springs when the earth shook, and the fairy mountains collapsed. , the eyes of the sea poured down, mortals looked up at the dying sky in the wilderness, and children grabbed half a piece of cold cake under the broken wall. The gray-white liquid fell to the ground and formed lines, and in the lines was the word "pressure". It once pressed the dragons in the sea, the lich in the calamity, the human race in the grass, the monks in the natural chasm, and suppressed all thoughts that refused to kneel down.
Pangu True Body's second attack did not involve using an axe, but rather he struck across the Pangu Banner.
The moment the banner unfurled, the four Origin forces of earth, water, fire, and wind roared forth. These were not supernatural powers, but the four fundamental natures first established after the creation of the world: earth's sustaining nature, water's nourishing nature, fire's illuminating nature, and wind's moving nature. Four pillars of Tongtian exploded deep within the greyish-white mist. Wherever the pillars reached, broken chains were struck as if by lightning, leaping from the mist's surface and shattering into inscribed snowflakes in mid-air. The Heavenly Dao hastily erected a barrier of laws, upon which Three Thousand Great Daos inscriptions appeared—some concerning the sun and moon, some life and death, some war, some rites and music, some measures, some rewards and punishments. But those inscriptions were already incomplete: some lacked the beginning stroke, some the ending stroke, some had been altered time and again by selfish desires, and some had been worn smooth by countless battles. As the four Origin pillars of light surged forth, the incomplete inscriptions crumbled piece by piece, like the peeling gold lettering on an old dynasty's plaque.
For the first time, the Heavenly Dao Consciousness emitted a tremor that resembled "pain".
The tremor was not a sound, yet it caused all the laws to murmur simultaneously. The gray-white mist retreated, like the tide leaving the mudflats, attempting to gather its remaining power around the core. Pangu True Body advanced step by step, each step shattering a piece of nothingness. The Heaven-Opening Axe rose again, striking nine times in succession. The first axe severed his "name," preventing him from claiming to be the father of all beings; the second axe severed his "position," causing his throne in the heavens to collapse; the third axe severed his "rewards and punishments," preventing good and evil from being decided by a single hand; the fourth axe severed his "causes and conditions," loosening the threads that had bound him for millennia; the fifth axe severed his "calamities," creating an opening in the Reincarnation of Primordial Wilderness and slaughter imposed upon the primordial world; the sixth axe severed his "concealment," revealing the hidden truth once more; the seventh axe severed his "demands," preventing all beings from offering their Destiny/Luck to fear; the eighth axe severed his "incarnation," completely separating him from the old image of Hongjun; the ninth axe severed his "escape," leaving the gray-white mist with nowhere to retreat, only the core exposed to the axe's light.
Where the nine axes struck, nine scars were left on the Heavenly Dao Origin. The scars, crisscrossing each other, were like an ancient net that had finally turned around and entangled the net weaver.
From the depths of the gray-white mist, a voice finally rang out.
The voice was ancient, hollow, and vast, as if seeping from every drop of rain, every grain of dust, and every heartbeat. "Pangu, you have long since perished. Mountains and rivers are your bones, seas and rivers are your blood, grass and trees are your hair, thunder and lightning are your wrath, the sun and moon are your eyes. You died so completely, why do you return to be my enemy? I am the Heavenly Dao, ruling the Primordial Wilderness. Your body transformed into all things, your Essence Blood nourished all living beings, your will should conform to the Heavenly Dao, not defy it."
This statement was half questioning and half tempting. It wasn't entirely false. Pangu did indeed die, and his death was cleaner than that of any other god or demon, so clean that even his "death" transformed into life. But precisely because his death was so clean, he forgot that there is something that even death cannot take away.
Pangu True Body's face remained blurred, as if separated by the dust of countless ages. But when those giant eyes opened, two beams of Chaos light pierced through the grayness. In those beams, there was neither hatred nor pity, only something harder than hatred and more enduring than pity—unyielding spirit.
"My body transformed into the Primordial Wilderness, my Essence Blood nourished all living beings—this was my choice, not your grace." The true form spoke, its voice booming like a million Thunder simultaneously, yet strangely clear, each word landing upon the laws of nature. "I leave my true form within the bloodline of the Witch Race, I leave the laws within the Sanqing Ones' Immortal Path, I leave life within Houtu's Reincarnation Houtu, I leave possibility within all spirits. I did not leave these things for today; I have never believed that since the beginning of heaven and earth, there should still be a 'superior' weighing down on the heads of all living beings."
The gray-white mist churned, and the Heavenly Dao roared, "Without my restraint, ferocious beasts will enter, demons will rise again, Causality will collapse, good and evil will go unpunished, the strong will devour the weak, and the Primordial Wilderness will surely return to Chaos!"
"It will be chaotic," Pangu True Body replied calmly. "There will be pain, mistakes, bloodshed, and wrong paths."
It paused, the axe blade lowered, and a dim yellow halo illuminated half of the Origin Space.
Will you turn back?
The four words fell heavier than nine axe blows.
The Heavenly Dao Consciousness seemed stunned. It had ruled for too long, so long that it mistook "control" for "protection," "kneeling" for "stability," and "unchanging" for "order." It had witnessed too many disasters, and thus concluded that disasters could only be suppressed from a higher place; it had witnessed all spirits killing each other, and thus concluded that all spirits were unworthy to wield weapons. It forgot that in the beginning of time, even without it, there was still the first wisp of wind, the first rain, and the first indomitable fire in the bloodline.
Pangu True Body slowly brought his palms together.
The Pangu Banner and the Heaven-Opening Axe simultaneously sank into his palm, like two great rivers flowing into the Xuan Ming. A Chaos sphere of light condensed in his palm. The sphere was not large, only a few hundred million feet in diameter, but within it emerged the scene of the Primordial Wilderness Genesis: turbid air sank to become the earth, and pure air rose to become the sky. Pangu stood between them, the sun growing one foot taller, the sky one foot higher, and the earth one foot thicker. It was not a memory, but the "First Cause" remembered by heaven and earth. On the outer wall of the sphere, twelve Ancestral Witch Law were branded like fire, three beams of pure light were washed like frost by the moon, and the four ancient demonic powers— the Immortal Dao Purity, the Creation Mystery, the Destruction Fervor, and the Devil Dao Cunning —were also drawn into it, no longer causing chaos, but only serving as firewood.
The Heavenly Dao Consciousness finally felt genuine fear. It ceased its persuasion, and the gray-white mist suddenly exploded, transforming into countless tentacles that swept towards the core, attempting to drag Pangu True Body into eternal annihilation at the cost of its Origin self-destruction.
It's too late.
The sphere of light was launched silently, disappearing into the gray-white depths.
Then, all sounds disappeared within the Heavenly Dao Origin Space.
The silence lasted only a moment, followed by a silent shockwave that spread outward from the core. It was silent because any "sound" lost its meaning in the impact; it was impactful because every inch of gray-white was being redefined. The gray-white mist was torn into countless fragments, from which emerged illusory Lesser Thousand World, rising and falling like bubbles; the broken chains turned to dust inch by inch, and the fragments of inscriptions transformed into fine rain, which turned into light before it even touched the ground. The core light cluster cracked, and from the cracks seeped a last trace of gray-white liquid. The liquid was no longer viscous, but transparent, like the sweat of someone finally unloading a heavy burden. The Heavenly Dao Consciousness let out a final roar, a roar containing anger, resentment, the bitterness of its eternal supremacy collapsing in a single day, and also a trace of imperceptible relief, which even it refused to acknowledge.
It was so tired. So tired that it broke apart, it felt like it was resting.
Pangu True Body stood in the center of the rain of light, and it too began to disintegrate. The twelve Ancestral Witch Law and the three beams of pure light peeled off its body, transforming into twelve beams of blood light and three beams of pure light, shooting in different directions. The true form took one last look at the shattered core, and a look of relief appeared in its giant eyes. That relief was not the arrogance of a victor, but like a farmer seeing the first seedling sprout in the wasteland.
"Go," it said.
I don't know who I'm talking to.
In the next instant, his true form transformed into countless specks of light, drifting down to all directions of the Primordial Wilderness. Within these specks of light lay the final will of creation, and also blessings: blessings that mountains may grow higher without collapsing, rivers longer without overflowing, fires brighter without burning, and thunder more powerful without indiscriminately killing; blessings that the strong know when to stop, the weak are unyielding, the living are fearless, and the dead find peace.
The Heavenly Dao Origin Space began to collapse. The gray-white mist and fragments of broken laws were drawn by an invisible force, no longer bearing any imprint of will, leaving only the pure source of laws, pouring down upon the Primordial Wilderness. Some rose into the heavens, some sank into the earth, some fell into the bloodline of the Witch Race, and some scattered into the edge of Chaos. The Heavenly Dao died, but the laws did not; the old heaven collapsed, and the rules were scattered in the hands of all living beings, waiting for pairs of hands, some rough and some delicate, to pick them up again.
When the Sanqing Ones withdrew from the Origin Space, they staggered, their faces as pale as paper.
The Taiqing Laozi's head is crowned with the Heaven and Earth Mysterious Yellow Exquisite Pagoda, its body crisscrossed with cracks, from which the Xuanhuang primordial energy leaks out, like an old man who can no longer suppress his old wounds. The Yuqing Yuanshi Tianzun holds the Three Treasures Three Treasures Jade Ruyi, the three-colored Treasure Light on which is almost extinguished, the blue no longer clear, the red no longer intense, and the white no longer bright, as if its splendor has been stripped away by the last cry of the Heavenly Dao. The Shangqing Lingbao Tianzun's Four Swords of Zhu Xian of Zhuxian are reduced to two broken swords, their blades chipped and jagged, yet their sharpness remains, like two teeth that have shattered the heavens.
The three landed on the edge of the Primordial Wilderness sky, beneath their feet were patterns on the incomplete Human Dao Array Network, within which three colors flowed: the Immortal Dao Purity, the Creation Mystery, and the Devil Dao Cunning. Further away, the Earthly Dao Formation Network, interwoven with earth yellow and blood red, slowly undulated on the earth, like the breath of a sleeping behemoth.
Laozi gazed at the collapsed Origin and murmured, "The Heavenly Dao has lost its consciousness, leaving only the primordial Origin. From now on, the laws of the Primordial Wilderness will operate on their own, no longer subject to the will of the Heavenly Dao Will. This is both a blessing and a responsibility for all living beings."
Yuanshi Tianzun frowned, gazing at the grayish-white residue still clinging to the shattered edges, and said, "Although the Heavenly Dao Origin is broken, it has not dissipated. Those fragments have merged into the Primordial Wilderness, and may one day re-form a new consciousness. It's just unknown whether that consciousness will be good or evil, orderly or chaotic."
Lingbao Tianzun stroked the broken sword with his finger, letting out a cold laugh, but with a hint of weariness in it. "Good or evil, don't rush to kneel. The greatest mistake of the old Heaven was not evil, but making people accustomed to kneeling. If anyone claims to be Heaven again in the future, first ask all living beings if they agree."
Laozi nodded slightly. "This is close to the Way."
The three said no more and went into seclusion. The clear light formed three withered lotuses in the sky, slowly rotating and refining the fragments of laws brought from their Origin one by one. Among the fragments were the "balance" left over from the old heaven, the "mystery" left behind when Hongjun merged with the Dao, and the "killing" and "stealing" that Jidu and Luohu could not get rid of. The Sanqing neither drove them away nor made them serve them, but only slowly polished them with their own Dao intent. Polishing away their sharpness, polishing away their greed, polishing them until they could fall into the array net without biting people.
At the same time, twelve beams of blood-red light pierced through the sky and entered the Tongtian Tower of the Witch Race.
The tower's body shone with divine light, and the thirty-six Tongtian pillars lit up simultaneously. The Thirty-Six Heavenly Spirit Elders were already arrayed atop the tower, chanting in unison the Jieyin incantation. The incantation was neither a song nor a curse, but more like a call that was inherent in their blood: Come back, come back, return to your bones, return to the fire, return to the time before you learned to bow your head.
Deep within the tower, the Dutian God-Demon Great Formation was already prepared. In each of the twelve directions, a drop of Ancestral Witch's Essence Blood was suspended. The blood had dried up, but it lit up again the moment the blood light entered its position.
Dijiang entered the formation, Wind Law rose, formless and invisible, yet giving direction to all sounds within the tower. Ju Mang entered the formation, Wood Law surged, tender shoots sprouting from the cracked lines, their tips a touch of green, illuminating the earliest spring of the Primordial Wilderness. Ru Shou the formation, Metal Law condensed, its chilling aura not assaulting, but settling into a ruler to measure good and evil, cause and Causality, and the human heart. Xuan Ming entered the formation, Law of Water surged, cold but not poisonous, deep but not drowning, like a pot of still-warm snow water on a winter night. Houtu entered the formation, and the Law of Earth stabilized, the tower's base sinking, as if the entire Primordial Wilderness land was being supported by a gentle yet enormous hand. Qiang Liang entered the formation, and the Law of Lightning roared, the thunder not frightening, but like distant mountains urging... The drums urge spring plowing. Zhu Jiuyin enters the formation, the Time Law flow, a moment inside the tower is a year outside, past and future intertwine between the pillar shadows. Tian Wu enters the formation, the Space Law tremble, a small area suddenly becomes a thousand miles, and a thousand miles return to a handful. Xi Zi enters the formation, the Lightning Law flash, as fine as a needle tip, faster than a thought, specifically piercing illusion. She Bi Shi enters the formation, the Weather Law change, sunshine, rain, and snow all have their time, no longer tilting with joy or anger. Yan Zi enters the formation, the Web-Weaving Law intertwine, bloodlines, earth veins, formation networks, vows, a thousand threads are gently bound together by an invisible thread. Gonggong the formation, the Flood Law surge, the angry waters are held back by the dam, the mighty flow returns to its channel, from then on water has its own nature, no longer just obeying calamity.
The twelve laws intertwined into a gray-white light, at the center of which emerged the phantom of Pangu True Body. The phantom did not wield an axe or unfurl a banner, but only extended a large hand, injecting the last trace of the will of creation into all the bloodlines of the Witch Race within the tower. That will entered their blood, not as a brand, but more like a commandment: Remember where you came from, and remember that you do not need to kneel before any other place.
The illusory image dissipated.
The bloodline of the Witch Race underwent a transformation. The Immortal Dao Purity cleansed the impurities from their savage blood, the profound enlightenment of Creation Mystery revitalized their withered bones, the Destruction Fervor was tempered in their courage, and the Devil Dao Cunning was refined into wisdom. These four elements, originally belonging to ancient demon gods, had once been enemies of the Primordial Wilderness world, devouring stars and the moon in the Chaos; yet now, they were dismantled, tamed, and reforged by the laws of the Twelve Ancestral Witches, transforming into a completely new power. It was both familiar and strange, both savage and civilized, both violent and gentle, like the lingering breath of Pangu when he created the world, burning anew in the hearts of the Witch Race after countless ages.
Among the Thirty-Six Heavenly Spirit Elders, the eldest opened his eyes. His name is unknown, and the younger generation of the Witch Race only refers to him as "Old Priest". The Old Priest's eyes shimmered with a gray-white light, and his voice, though not loud, resounded throughout every floor, every corridor, and every stone engraved with battle patterns in the Tongtian Tower.
"The Ancestral Witch have returned to their positions, and the Will of Pangu has entered their blood. From this day forward, the Witch Race is no longer merely the descendants of the Ancestral Witch, but the guardians left to the Primordial Wilderness by the Pangu True Body. The Heavenly Dao has lost its consciousness, but its Origin remains, and its laws must be upheld by all spirits. The Witch Race should use the Will of Pangu within their bloodline as a guide, the laws of the Twelve Ancestral Witches as a foundation, and the power of the Four Demon Gods as their tools to guard the earth until a new Heavenly Dao order is born."
Beneath the tower, the entire Witch Race knelt in worship. There were no cries, no shouts. Many simply pressed their hands to their chests, feeling a fire there that did not burn them, but only provided warmth. In that fire was the speed of Dijiang, the thickness of Houtu, the anger of Gonggong, the endurance of Zhu Jiuyin, and their fathers and mothers whom they had never seen before but suddenly recognized.
Nuwa stood in the center of the sky.
Nine-colored rays of light surged from her body—red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, blue, and purple, plus black and white—like a long scroll torn and then mended by her own hands, spreading out into the Human Dao Array Network. She was the master of Human Dao, yet she never claimed Human Dao as her own. In her eyes, Human Dao was not the way of one race, not the way of one religion, not the way of the strong, but the way of all living beings. The cries of humans, the gazing at the moon of demons, the beating of drums by shamans, the cultivation of qi by immortals, the lowering of brows of Buddhas, the sprouting of plants, the nodding of stubborn rocks—all that yearns, all that knows pain, all that is willing to look to one another, are within the Dao.
Using her own laws as a guide, she completely fused the fragments of laws left behind after the collapse of Hongjun, Jidu, and Luohu with the will of Pangu's creation, the laws of the Twelve Ancestral Witches, and the power of the four demon gods. The process was not magnificent, but rather almost trivial: a demonic rune was too sharp, so she smoothed it with the Creation Mystery; a ray of immortal light was too cold, so she warmed it with the warmth of human life; a killing intent was too deep, so she wrapped it layer by layer with the will of all living beings to survive; a Causality was too chaotic, so she separated it strand by strand with the patience of a mother combing her messy hair.
The Human Dao Array Network thus unleashed an unprecedented nine-colored radiance. Within the radiance emerged countless faces: Human Race farmer straightening his back in the field, a little fox Demon Race taking its first human form under the moonlight, a young Witch Race who fell and bled profusely before the Ancestral Witch Gods but still got up, an old immortal cultivator laughing heartily at an Alchemy Furnace explosion, Buddhist Sect novice giving his last half-bowl of rice to a stray dog, and Devil Dao cultivator sheathing his sword and turning to help carry a bridge washed away by a flash flood. These faces, old or young, male or female, joyful or sorrowful, were all microcosms of the myriad spirits of the Primordial Wilderness world.
Nuwa said softly, "The Way of Human Dao is the Way of all living beings. The former ruler has departed, and the Way of Human Dao shall be established. From this day forward, all living beings in the Primordial Wilderness will no longer be bound by the Heavenly Dao Will, but will be bound together by the Human Dao Array Network and based on the will of all living beings, to jointly maintain the order of the Primordial Wilderness."
Fuxi stood beside her, the Eight Trigrams diagram slowly rotating. From the black and white energies, the scene of the final battle between Pangu True Body and the Heavenly Dao Consciousness emerged, as well as the image of the gray-white halo Mending the Heavens after the core shattered. Deeper still, countless tiny hexagrams were born and died: one hexagram showed the sky cracking, one showed the earth merging, one showed the blood of witches boiling, one showed human habitation rising everywhere, one showed ferocious beasts grinding their teeth, and one showed new sprouts breaking through the soil.
Fuxi remained silent for a long time before finally speaking, "Although the Heavenly Dao Consciousness is shattered, its Origin is still slowly coalescing. That grayish-white halo is a sign of its self-repair. In the next ten thousand years, the Heavenly Dao may re-coalesce a new consciousness. At that time, whether that consciousness is good or evil, orderly or chaotic, will depend on the behavior of all living beings in the Primordial Wilderness during this period. If all living beings are of one mind, Human Dao prospers, and the Earthly Dao is stable, the new consciousness will conform to the will of all living beings and become the guardian of order; if all living beings are of one mind, Human Dao declines, and the Earthly Dao collapses, the new consciousness will become the source of chaos, repeating the calamity of today."
Nuwa looked down at the human world. "So this is not the end."
"Never," Fuxi replied.
The Three Ancestors of the Human Race stood behind Fuxi. The fire in Suiren's palm never died out, its light reflecting the first cold night; Youchao leaned on a wooden staff, the old bird nest on it still echoing with the chirping of chicks; Ziyi's fingers were adorned with silver threads, used to sew animal hides and human hearts. Crimson Human Dao light surged from the three of them, merging with Nuwa's nine-colored radiance, making that light warmer, lower, and closer to the smoke from cooking fires.
Suiren said in a deep voice, "The Human Dao Array Network has incorporated the laws of the three and the Will of Pangu. Human Race should set an example for all living beings. I propose that all Human Race immediately build altars to worship Pangu and the Twelve Ancestral Witches; at the same time, inscribe today's battle on a stone tablet to be passed down to future generations, so that all living beings will remember the pain of the fall of their former ruler and the collapse of the Heavenly Dao. Remembering the pain is not to perpetuate hatred, but to prevent us from kneeling again."
Youchao nodded. "Human Race should take farming and reading as its foundation, etiquette and law as its guiding principles, and the Human Dao Array Network as its protection, so as to thrive and multiply on the Primordial Wilderness land; at the same time, it should assist the Witch Race in guarding the land, assist the immortals in stabilizing the heavens, and assist the Buddhist Sect in purifying the remnants of Devil Dao. A nest can shelter from the wind, and also from the heart; a house can provide shelter, and also accommodate the different."
Ziyi continued, "Human Race women weave cloth and make clothes, men till the fields and build cities, and children read books and understand principles. Clothes cover the body and also cover shame; cloth, when made into bolts, also constitutes etiquette. In this way, Human Dao can endure, and the Primordial Wilderness can remain stable."
As the Three Ancestors finished speaking, countless villages across Primordial Wilderness vast land simultaneously lit up with fire. That fire was no longer just a sacrifice to heaven and earth, but also a sacrifice to themselves—a sacrifice to everyone who had endured the cold night, every time they had helped a neighbor up, and every time they had refused to reveal their name to fear.