Mount Sumeru Valley
Since they were previously sent back, they naturally won't have any land to cultivate. Doesn't this mean they won't be able to go out and absorb Spiritual Qi for cultivation in the future?
"I really hope headquarters sends people over soon to wipe this place out!" thought the few informant cultivators who didn't have land to cultivate.
In addition, Yuan Jinsheng also revealed a piece of information to them.
That means as long as the quality and quantity of their quarterly output of spirit grains are good, they will arrange for merchants to come in so that they can shop.
These spies and cultivators didn't react much to the merchants' arrival, but they were also happy about it. They didn't think there was anything of great value to buy in the Mortal Realm, but some supplements like pills would be nice.
Some people, however, started to have their own ideas.
If outsiders come in, doesn't that mean they can contact them? Then wouldn't that provide an opportunity to send messages out, and maybe even find a way to get them to help bring the message back to the Immortal Cultivation Realm...?
Some of the spies were secretly plotting their own schemes.
What they didn't know was that the City Lord's Mansion had already held a meeting to discuss this matter, and would definitely tighten its control over this aspect afterward.
Xiushui City is developing and improving rapidly in all aspects.
It shines brightly in the Mortal Realm like a rising star.
The very center of the Mortal Realm does not belong to any nation; it is a land without a home or owner.
The area is surrounded by dense, chaotic forests filled with miasma, and deep inside lies a vast valley. The heart of the valley is shrouded in white mist, making it impossible to see anything inside.
This place should have been sparsely populated, but surprisingly, there were many simple thatched huts and earthen houses on the edge of the valley.
These thatched huts surround the valley, but one tall stone building stands out in the middle.
The sunrise gradually illuminated the entire valley, and many people were walking back and forth among the thatched huts.
Each of them carried stacks of bamboo slips into the stone building.
Many others sat quietly in their thatched huts, carving knives in hand, diligently working on the documents on their desks.
As the sun fully rose above the horizon, a clear whistle pierced the sky, and a flock of birds flew in from afar.
Upon closer inspection, these birds are not of the same kind; there are crows, swallows, sparrows, pigeons, geese, and so on—all the most common and ordinary birds.
But the sight of them flying together in a long formation, mixed together, was something never seen before.
The birds circled once above the valley before gathering at the very top of the stone building.
From a distance, the roof of the building looks like an ordinary flat roof, but upon closer inspection, you can see that it is made up of small compartments. The birds are arranged in neat rows on the roof, each landing in one of the small compartments.
Then they all bent down and opened their mouths towards a small hole beneath them.
Each bird spat out a ball of light that fell through the small holes and disappeared.
With a clear whistle, the birds seemed to be summoned and took flight towards a thatched hut not far away.
From the thatched hut came a man dressed in a white robe and wearing a hood, carrying a large basket. He reached into the basket, scooped out a handful of things, and threw them around forcefully.
The birds that flew over landed in an orderly fashion and began pecking at the ground with great enthusiasm.
"Father, Father!"
A young man, also dressed in a white robe, ran from a distance, calling to the middle-aged man who was feeding the birds.
The middle-aged man turned around at the sound and saw that the hood that should have been on the boy's head had fallen off as he ran. He frowned slightly. When the boy ran up to him, still panting, the middle-aged man said in a low voice, "Straighten your clothes."
The young man stopped and quickly pulled up his hood. His eyes bright, he said to the middle-aged man, "Father, Xiushui City is so interesting!"
The middle-aged man turned back to feeding the birds, saying calmly, "This is no excuse for you to record such exaggerated words, Wuguang. If you record history with such exaggerated words again, you will be expelled from your clan and banished from Mount Sumeru Valley."
The boy called Wuguang lowered his head and admitted his mistake, saying, "I understand, Father. I won't do it again."
Wuguang crouched down and stroked a crow that was feeding nearby. His mood recovered quickly, and in just a few moments he looked up happily and asked the middle-aged man, "Father, can I participate in the next batch?"
The middle-aged man finished scattering the birdseed, glanced down at Wuguang, and spoke in a calm tone, "Those who wish to enter the world must have a righteous heart and be detached from worldly affairs to see the world clearly and record history." He then gently shook his head at Wuguang, "You cannot do that; you are incapable of entering the world."
Upon hearing this, Wuguang's expression immediately wilted. "But I really want to go see Xiushui City and Lingxian Sect!"
The middle-aged man ignored him, turned around, and went into the thatched hut behind him, leaving behind the basket of birdseed.
When he came out, Wuguang was still squatting on the ground, silently stroking the crow beside him. The middle-aged man didn't say anything more and turned to walk towards the stone building in front of him.
Entering the interior of this stone building, you'll find that the space inside is much, much larger than the outside, and it's filled with neatly arranged bamboo slips, each containing a full record.
There was another area with ten tables set up, and nine people were attentively proofreading the contents of the bamboo slips in front of them at their respective tables.
The middle-aged man walked to the only empty table, knelt down, and sat down in a very upright posture.
In a bamboo basket to his left were many cut and discarded bamboo slips, but most of them were only a few or a dozen slips, while a complete roll of discarded bamboo slips was thrown on top.
The half-rolled bamboo slips faintly reveal phrases such as "Xiushui City emerges out of nowhere," "Lingxian Sect calls on heroes to capture the spy," and "Xiushui City leads the Mortal Realm into a new era."
The middle-aged man glanced at it sideways, sighed slightly, and then turned the bamboo slip that Wuguang could not pass the test upside down and put it in the bamboo basket.
He then took out a brand new bamboo scroll, picked up the carving knife beside him, and began to rewrite and carve the latest news on the table.
During this period, Wuguang officially joined the clan's task of recording history, but he did not do a good job. His records were too subjective, with too much personal emotion and cognitive judgment. As his father, the middle-aged man had some regrets.
The Mount Sumeru Clan has been born and raised in Mount Sumeru Valley Mount Sumeru Valley for generations, taking it upon themselves to record the history of the world.
The clan has always demanded of its members that they be upright and ruthless.
This kind of ruthlessness is not the same as that kind of ruthlessness. It requires that members of the tribe not have their own subjective feelings about external matters, as this would affect their judgment when recording. As for personal joys, sorrows, and anger, it does not require them to have any.