At the Dao Ancestor's word, the two of them stopped delaying.
Ten years beneath the Myriad Dao Tree, listening to the Dao—they had remembered what needed remembering and comprehended what needed comprehending.
The road ahead was theirs to see, hear, and experience for themselves.
Xu Changqing had little to pack, only a copy of the Records of a Hundred Herbs.
Zhang Daoxuan packed even faster. Clearly, he had long been thinking of going out to gain experience.
He carried nothing in his hands, not even a bundle. The only addition was a Green Gourd hanging at his waist.
"Are you going on a picnic or something?"
"Why not?"
"The Dao Ancestor didn't give us a direction. We'll just go wherever our feet take us!"
There really was nothing wrong with Zhang Daoxuan's reasoning.
Neither had a destination, yet both thought of the same place without prior agreement.
They exchanged a glance and spoke at the same time. "Xi Tribe!"
"Let's go."
Xu Changqing called out, "Let's head over there and take a look first."
After the floodwaters receded, some among the tens of thousands of mortals chose to remain at the Dao Sect Ancestral Court.
At the foot of the mountain, they built crude shelters.
They relied on aid from Dao Sect disciples while gradually rebuilding their lives.
But more people still returned to their original tribes.
After all, those were lands passed down by their ancestors. Collapsed homes could be rebuilt, and flooded fields could be tilled again.
The people of the Xi Tribe were among the latter.
Once the floodwaters had completely drained away, they returned home with their families in tow.
Of course, they also had other thoughts in their hearts.
Though Stream Earl had fled, he was not dead.
Now that the flood had