A piece of land of about two million square kilometers is like a giant cake with an enticing aroma.

Zhang Yang stood under the huge starry sky, looking intoxicated, and at the same time struggling with how to cut the first knife, this is not a village or a city after all.

Also, of course, he wants to develop this fragment of the real world, but he is not here to play strategy games.

Because the crisis is never far away, the pressure to survive is always there.

"It's impossible to develop in full development, and the story has to start here. ”

Zhang Yang's hand lightly touched the void, and the ripples like water ripples spread out, like an ink painting.

At first, it was an angular stone, and then there was a man with a sword on his back, and he couldn't see his face, but he could vaguely feel the vicissitudes attached to his body.

A black and white fallen leaf falls in a circle, and there is a big tree on the picture, with lush branches and leaves, and the color gradually changes from black and white to changeable, with the tender green and light yellow of spring, the emerald green and green of summer, the fiery red precipitation of autumn, and the black and white gloom of winter.

Day after day, year after year.

The angular stones gradually covered with moss, and the trees withered again and again, but the back of the man with the sword never changed.

He was like a statue, watching over something.

Slowly, the earth became verdant, the traces of the once riddled holes were gone, and a well appeared in the picture, ancient, vicissitudes, and mysterious.

The image begins to spread in all directions, first with a hunter in the corner of the frame, then with a simple hut.

The hostess, the hostess, and a small cultivated vegetable patch, an old dog, one older and one young, were chasing butterflies.

The huts around the area gradually increased, and a small street began to appear, and the number of pedestrians increased.

Toddlers become stronger, strong men and women grow old, and old people die.

It's just the most ordinary picture.

The village became a thriving town, and the town became a city.

No one remembers when the first hut was built and when it was demolished.

Just as no one remembers that there was an old well in the city, there was a man with a sword guarding by the well.

"The story starts a long, long time ago, there was a powerful monster, it was powerful, it had great magical powers, soaring clouds and fog, and traveled thousands of miles a day. It hurt a lot of people, the most like to eat the hearts of children, no one can fight it, later, there was a wandering swordsman, he vowed to destroy the monster, they killed from sunrise to sunset, and from sunset to sunrise, killed seven hundred miles, and finally seriously injured the monster. ”

But the swordsman was also dying at this time, unable to kill the monster, so the swordsman turned him and his sword into an ancient well, and sealed the monster, nay, this well is here, once someone passed by in the middle of the night, and even heard a strange whining sound from the well. ”

A wrinkled, kind old lady sat in the sun, washing her clothes and telling stories to her grandchildren.

Not far away, there was a well, and two young women were working together to turn the wheel of the water, and at this moment, the sun was shining, and the legendary ghosts were only legends.

At the entrance of a street and alley farther away, Zhang Yang changed into an ancient costume and walked away slowly, like a passerby.

All of this in front of him was something he had spent a full five hundred units of the laws of the universe to come up with.

That's right, it's that simple, no amount of farming can compare to this kind of open-hanging bombing.

But it's all worth it, he can't take the incomparably precious fragments of the True Realm to farm and build, that is equivalent to selling baked cakes in the emperor's palace, either he is stupid, or the emperor is stupid.

Therefore, it is better to grow a story, he used a core disciple, a city, and 5,000 mortals to grow such a real story, which is recognized by the fragments of the true world and can be projected to the heavens and all worlds.

In the past, Nie Xiaoqian, Ning Caichen, Black Mountain Old Demon, and Grandma Mu could do what these masters of Mahayana immortal cultivation could do, why couldn't he do it?

The conditions he has now are hundreds of times better than those people, not to mention that this story has free actors' sincere investment.

This is the most valuable of the hundred and eight methods for developing the Fragments of the True World.

At least for Zhang Yang.

He left the city as if it had never been there, but the story had already begun.

"Ahh

A young woman who was fetching water screamed and crouched down with her stomach clutched, her face pale, as if she were in terrible pain.

A group of people hurriedly helped her away, and called in a doctor.

Nothing special happened, and the woman was healed after a few days of recuperation at home.

But for some reason, whenever the woman approached the ancient well at a certain distance, she would inexplicably hear some strange whispers, extremely terrifying, at first the woman did not dare to talk to others, but from that day on, as long as she dreamed, she would find herself involuntarily walking in a fog, deep in the fog, there were strange whispers, and the voice would become clearer and clearer, until she was awakened.

The woman was sick again, and patches of snake scales began to grow on her arms, and she no longer even liked cooked food, and began to crave blood.

She didn't dare describe these anomalies to anyone, but the situation in her dream was getting worse and worse, and she had seen the outline of a large, snake-like statue that was somewhat vague—

That night, the fourteen courtyards around the ancient well were filled with blood, and hundreds of corpses were bitten off their throats and sucked blood.

"Hooked, or are you tempting?"

Zhang Yang pays attention to the whole process, like a chess player playing chess.

A chess piece was played again, a disciple of the fifth generation of the Heavenly Sword Sect was ordered by the master to go down the mountain to practice, passing through here, and found that the demonic spirit was soaring, he followed the clues to find the mutant woman, and locked the ancient well, but his strength could not fight against the mutant woman, at the moment of life and death, a shocking appeared and killed the mutant woman, but it was a man with vicissitudes of life and endless loneliness.

Of course, this is the robber Wu Jun.

Zhang Yang is using his identity as the Lord of the Fragments of the True Realm, and he can't move without moving time, but it couldn't be easier to inject some time-lapse information into a city, thousands of mortals, and his eldest disciples.

Even the plague serpent will be deceived by this.

It doesn't matter if you're not fooled, the purpose of the publicity is very clear, you come, let's act.

If you don't come, I'll make up a story and continue to act.

Once Nie Xiaoqian, Ning Caichen, and those immortal cultivators were able to rely on the story of a Chinese ghost story to make the world of the end of the law persist for so long.

There is no reason to publicize that today has the right time, place and people, and can't make a lot of money?