The land is vast, the green hills are reflected in the sun, the great river flows through the mountains, and the breeze and birdsong are constantly coming. In the mountains, only this quiet picture is circulating.

After glancing around, Guan Mingyu's spiritual power flowed, and he was about to get out of the mountain, but his face suddenly became stunned. In the meridians, the spiritual power that was originally operating in an orderly manner unexpectedly slowed down, and slowly dissipated without his control.

He was stunned again, changed the trajectory of the spiritual power in the meridians, and stretched out his hand forward, but nothing happened.

After a slight pause, he struck again and tried to take out the Longbo Knife, but the spiritual power flowed, and under the cover of the light of his mind, his hand was still empty.

In the meridian acupoints, the body that was originally nourished by the divine will actually regained its original look, and became flesh and blood like an ordinary person.

In this space, it is not allowed to fly, let alone use any supernatural powers.

Guan Mingyu had never experienced this kind of feeling, not to mention spiritual power, even the realm of refining the body was completely deprived, and he was completely reduced to an ordinary person.

All kinds of supernatural powers were lost once, and Guan Mingyu, who had always focused on cultivation, actually suffered from gains and losses.

After a while, still unresponsive, Guan Mingyu sighed, slowly stood up, and walked along the road towards the front. With the realm of painting saints, it is impossible to say no to him if he does not reach Sendai. It's better to walk forward and see what lies ahead.

The road is always out of the way, and it is impossible to throw yourself and others into a dead end. Even if it is a powerful cave heaven of the demonic path, there will be a glimmer of life.

Feeling a situation that he had not experienced for decades, Guan Mingyu walked slowly towards the mountain.

The mountain road is not large, and a thorny path winds and stretches out into the unknown ahead. Guan Mingyu adjusted his breathing, adapted to his movements, and stepped forward as smoothly as possible, saving every ounce of energy. After practicing for many years, even if his spiritual power is exhausted, Guan Mingyu has become more aware of the importance of stability and order, so that he can save more energy to go further or better face possible difficulties.

In the sky, the slanting sun slowly rose to the middle, the temperature was getting higher and higher, even if Guan Mingyu deliberately controlled the speed, it was still getting hotter and hotter, and sweat gradually covered his forehead. The footsteps that had been full of energy also became heavy, as if a sandbag was tied to the leg.

Walking to the mountainside, the heavy exhaustion finally made him choose to stop and rest.

After a while, he took another step forward. All the supernatural powers are gone, the spiritual power is gone, and there is no other way but to move forward.

I don't know how long I walked, but an ancient chanting sounded from an unknown place.

The chanting voice is a collection of many people's singing voices, and the ancient tone is very different from the sound of today's poetry and songs, and there is a slight sense of mystery. Although I didn't understand the content at all, it sounded like a sense of anticipation and piety inside, like cheers, like crying, mixed with the sound of dong dong.

Following the sound, hundreds of naked ancestors were gathering in the valley between the mountains. Wrapped in bark, clothed in the fur of beasts, and with feathers tied on their heads, they danced in groups and danced with the most simple movements. Unadorned, hand-in-hand, the sound of chanting came from their mouths.

In the center of them was an ordinary middle-aged man who was extremely pious, with a stick stuck in another in his folded hands, surrounded by hay, and his palms rubbing vigorously. As he moved, a flame slowly rose, and smoke rose from the hay. He was even more excited, his palms rubbed more rapidly, and the hay was instantly ignited. The crowd around them cheered violently, and the chanting became more distinct.

Drill wood for fire.

Fire represents the power of life, warmth, and the beginning of civilization. With the flames, the Terrans ended their fate of freezing in the cold. With the flames, humanity ended the history of Ru Mao drinking blood.

This painting is the sacrifice of the first ancestors to the flames.

The voice of chanting gradually deepened, and the picture was suddenly retracted, Guan Mingyu suddenly came back to his senses and looked at the ancient mural on the mountain wall in front of him.

The completely still picture contrasts sharply with the immersive scene just now, and only outlines the rudiments of the picture.

Guan Mingyu quietly lowered his head, thought for a while, and walked forward again.

In the middle of the mountain, a strong man wrapped in tree bark, with the fur of a beast around his waist, and a stone axe in his hand, climbed among the mountains.

He grasped the trunk of the tree with his hand, and with a low cry, the stone axe slashed into the ground, and then climbed up with a slight force. He grabbed the stone axe again and walked forward.

After walking a few steps, he suddenly became happy, and looked not far from the little tree, where there was a grass different from the others, half a foot high, growing under the roots. Around the grass, there are different kinds of weeds that wrap it around.

The man's eyes were sharp, and he cautiously put down the stone axe, pushed away the weeds, and pulled up the grass.

Then he walked to the brook and carefully washed off the dirt until every root was cleaned. Then he sat down, opened his mouth slightly, gently put the grass in his mouth, and chewed it slowly.

It is rumored that Shennong tasted a hundred herbs and found herbs from them, so that the human race no longer suffered from illness and no longer died because of some minor injuries, giving the human race hope for the inheritance of life.

As he chewed, the wriggling lips gradually cleaned, and the clattering sound kept coming. Guan Mingyu's mind flickered, and he withdrew from the picture again, appearing in front of another mural.

He watched again for a while, and seeing that he was almost at the top of the mountain, he took another step and walked over.

A pious prayer came from afar.

Above the altar made of stones surrounded by countless people, an old man with white hair was standing on the altar, gesturing to the sky with his hands, and the sound of prayer came from his mouth. The chant was like an ancient chant, like a passionate cry, like a low cry, and he kept dancing, running the feathers in his hand into the sky.

As he chanted, the countless people below cheered, shouting, shouting, running around the altar, bursting out with all their enthusiasm.

The old man's hands were suddenly raised, and a sharp cry came out of his mouth. The crowd running below stopped as if on a pilgrimage, and shouted at his raised hands.

Then they scattered with a bang, took up the tools in their hands in the shape of wooden forks, with cranks on them and plowshares below, and turned over all the land not far away.

The old man stepped down from the altar, picked up the bag next to him, and followed the path of the crowd to sow the seeds on the ground.

Grow the world and sow grains.

Since then, the human race has switched to farming from fishing and hunting, and has truly had the breath of civilization.

Walking forward again, ancient pictures appeared in front of Guan Mingyu's eyes. Knotted rope notes, knotted net fishing, hemp silk clothing...... Ancient activities have pushed human beings from the state of drinking blood to agricultural civilization step by step.

The last painting is a word.

Yes, not one, not several, but one piece. The shape is like the real thing, and the scribbled ancient characters constitute a complete Wenhua system.

The emergence of writing marks the true formation of human civilization. Since then, these texts have recorded all the ancient sacrificial activities and beliefs, ancient history and experience, and passed them on from generation to generation, and finally formed a thick historical accumulation.

At the beginning of the opening of the sky, great powers came out one after another, but in the inheritance of experience, it took a different path. It was not until later that the ancestors of the hundred ethnic groups comprehended heaven and earth, formed the spirit pattern of heaven and earth, recorded countless information between heaven and earth, and developed into the appearance of the primeval era. The spirit patterns of heaven and earth continue to evolve, and they are the words used today.

Like the great powers of the three ancient eras, the ancestors of the hundred tribes also continued to invent various scripts. Until the time of the Middle Ages, the Hundred Saints used their own realm to re-enact everything that the heavens and the earth had opened up, deduced the text, and formed the common script in the main world today, which was clearer and more definite than the spirit pattern of heaven and earth.

If you can achieve the Tao and reach the state where everything can only be understood but not spoken, then the information that words can carry will seem too little, and you will return to the use of heaven and earth spiritual patterns.

Guan Mingyu sat quietly, really not understanding what these ancient pictures appeared in front of him. Drilling wood for fire, Shennong tasting herbs, and even the emergence of writing and the production of pottery are only the development process of the ancestors of the human race.

So what is the significance of the most glorious creations and most meaningful accounts of these ancestors being re-enacted by the saints?

It's meaningless, because these are things that I can see from ancient books.

He walked up the hill, dragging his tired steps toward the bottom of the mountain.

The old chanting sounded again. With the sound of drums, it resounded in the bottom of people's hearts.

Guan Mingyu stood in the crowd, constantly beating and cheering with the countless crowds. The ancient singing is full of reverence, and the faint piety of faith is overflowing, and in the singing that seems to be cheering and crying, it is no longer the ancient crowd in animal skins singing and dancing, cheering by the fire.

A middle-aged man in sackcloth, under the gaze of countless people, walked up to the high platform and looked at the cheering crowd.

He smiled and raised his right hand vigorously.

Swish!

At the same time, countless cheering crowds raised their right hands, and then slowly knelt down, shouting in unison: "My emperor!"

The man laughed, and above the heavens, a flame fell from the sky, enveloping him completely, burning silently, but not hurting him in the slightest. The flames were like waves, slowly fluctuating the entire heaven and earth, and a trace of civilized breath overflowed and passed on to everyone. With every trace of overflow, the mind seems to be clearer and thicker.

The fire of civilization!

In Guan Mingyu's eyes, the face of the middle-aged man in sackcloth suddenly became clear. It was the appearance of the man who drilled wood for fire in the first picture he had seen.