One sentence came up repeatedly in this person's memory fragments:
"The Great Dao has three thousand paths, but all lead to the same destination. The way of Heaven takes from excess to make up for deficiency. Teaching all living beings is the true path."
This was the core doctrine of the Heavenly Reach Sect.
On the thirtieth island was another demonic beast—a Three-Tailed Spirit Fox.
Four islands, three Demon Race cultivators, and one Human Clan cultivator.
The Heavenly Reach Sect's principle of "teaching without discrimination" was not just talk. They had truly put it into practice.
Every evening after returning to base, Chen Siyao compiled the day's discoveries into a report and sent it to Han Songyue.
Cultivation texts, residual formation data, ancient geography and the distribution of powers mentioned in inherited memories—the volume of information kept growing.
Han Songyue's team had already pulled all-nighters for five days straight.
"Director Han, please look after yourself," Chen Siyao said over the phone.
"Look after myself?!" Han Songyue's voice was so hoarse it sounded ready to catch fire. "Do you have any idea what this information means? We're reconstructing an entire civilization lost for thousands of years! An opportunity like this comes once in a thousand years, once in ten thousand! Who has time to sleep?!"
Chen Siyao silently hung up.
Getting these higher-ups to sleep less was harder than killing them. The reverse was equally true: getting them to sleep more was harder than killing them, too.
And for an entire week, the waters around the perimeter of Penglai remained perfectly quiet.
There was no second wave of foreign infiltration. No suspicious vessels approached. Even the monitoring buoys the Special Affairs Bureau had deployed farther out to sea had not raised a single alarm.
It was too quiet.
But Chen Siyao