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***

Heaven and Earth were connected, immortals flew on clouds, and a luxurious palace stood on the Heaven.

Sometimes on cloudy days, when it rained, one could see dragons, and during journeys, fishermen often encountered sea demons following them, craving fresh flesh.

The world of cultivation was united, there were no restrictions on Immortals and mortals, everyone lived in one place and enjoyed the bright moments of life.

Rumble… rumble…

The sky rumbled as if angered by something. Smoke rose from a desolate valley. An ordinary mortal village was ablaze, and the villagers burned alive in the aggressive flames.

What was this if not a hellish sight? Even the calmest person would be shocked by this sight.

Dressed in a tattered robe covered with patches of rough material, he knelt, and in his black eyes, there was despair.

He was a hundred meters away from the village, and the only thing he could do was to watch in shock as his home, acquaintances, and children were consumed by the fire.

He wanted to save them but couldn\'t – his heart screamed, but his mind was silent. Therefore, until nightfall, until it started to rain, the youth knelt, looking as if his soul had left his body.

"Why…" he could only mutter in a monotonous voice with a hint of helplessness.

Years passed. The youth of those years became a man, he had no children, no wife – he was alone in life. The sky was his blanket, and the earth was his bed!

Over time, his foot stepped on the territories of different dynasties. He saw immortals, saw dragons, was a step away from death. His life was not peaceful, but interesting.

However, even this did not heal his wounded soul.

Deep at night, under the cover of darkness, the man crept into a deep cave. Stalactites hung over his head, but there was nowhere to go – the entire cave resembled a place where sinners were destined to live until the end of their days.

Pressing himself against the wall, in the place where there were the fewest stalactites, he fell asleep, covering his mortal body with only a thin piece of torn cloth, on which there was an innumerable number of patches.

Day and night changed places… but the man did not wake up. A week passed, two weeks passed, and in an instant, a month flew by, but not a single muscle of his twitched during all this time.

Was he dead? Unknown. There was only a faint breath, and even that was barely perceptible if one approached closely.

Was this the fate of a mortal – to die alone, in the middle of nowhere? The only thing that could protect his corpse – in these places, there were no predatory animals.

Another month passed… two months passed. Finally, after a long time, the \'corpse\' showed some reaction.

The little finger of his left hand twitched. Because the man had not eaten or drunk for a long time, his body resembled a skeleton, which looked very frightening.

"Mmmh…"

Mumbling something to himself, the man opened his eyes, which seemed to be covered with a white film.

"Aaaa…"

He let out a weak growl, like a wounded beast. The man discovered that his vision was blurred, as if covered with fog. His arms and legs did not move, and he was one foot in the grave.

"Uuuh…"

The only thing he was capable of was incomprehensible sounds made by his dry lips. His condition was more like the life of the undead.

The man closed his eyes – as if he had resigned himself to his fate. What else could he do? His whole body was numb, and he could not even clearly see the path in front of him, so how could he live and get out of this cave?

The only thing left was to pray to the Deities in the hope of help. And so the days passed… and the man began to notice something strange.

Although he himself was hungry, wanted to drink, and his whole body was paralyzed… he did not die.

So much time without food and water – this would make any mortal die. However, he himself, although he felt terribly uncomfortable, his mind still existed, and his soul had not dissipated into dust.

"Did the prayers help?" he could only think, attributing his own changes to the will of God.

After two weeks, something strange happened. Despite the fact that his vision was blurred, he saw what no one else could see – these were small light blue particles floating in the air, like fairies circling around his mortal body.

He himself could not touch them, but even so, he felt a slight chill, and the previous thirst and hunger disappeared, as if they were a terrible dream.

On the fifth day, the man opened his eyes and found that he was standing and could walk freely. His vision returned to normal, and he stopped seeing the mysterious particles.

The next day, he set off on his journey again, as if nothing had happened. His path was the path of travel.

After a year, the man reached a city where he stocked up on food and tools. His hair had grown to his coccyx, and his clothes looked tattered. In his youth, he was beautiful, like the sky, and a crowd of girls followed him.

However, now he looked no better than a corpse.

"Hey, tell this beggar to sit in the corner. In return, we will treat him to rice and cabbage…" the owner of the eatery whispered to his employee.

"Understood."

The employee nodded and conveyed this news to the man, who did not refuse and sat in the corner. A few minutes later, they brought him a bowl of rice and cabbage, and as a sign of apology – a cup of cheap wine.

Starting his meal, the man listened to the rumors with one ear.

"Have you heard that immortals have come to the city?"

"Well, how else! Now everyone who is not lazy knows about it. Even my dog knows!" someone laughed at another table: "They say there are two immortals – one is a young man, and the other is a beautiful girl. Even the Emperor himself bowed before them!"

"Ah, how enviable. I would also like to become a cultivator, to conquer the Heaven and rise above the Earth!"

"Pfft, dream on! We mortals will never understand their secret."

The man sighed, eating his rice. Immortals were a sore subject, for over the years he had learned that the cause of the destruction of his village – a cultivator overcoming Heavenly Grief.

Even if he was guilty, no one would accuse him. For how could a village of mortals compare with a cultivator? I\'m afraid even the dirt under his fingernails would be more valuable than all the mortals combined.

And becoming a cultivator – a task not easy. Even if you manage to become a cultivator, without a patron, you will be doomed to eternal persecution. It is believed that only noble people who have received permission from the Heavens can cultivate immortality.

And therefore, obtaining cultivation techniques is limited only to wealthy families and sects of immortals, who by their nature are xenophobes, and only people with a good background can get a chance to become a cultivator.

"Such mortals as I are doomed to eternal slavery under the feet of cultivators. The only thing we can do – eternally plow the land, waiting for the arrival of our death."

The sad fate of mortals was unenviable, but no one dared to complain. Immortals have always been objects of worship and were comparable to Deities, which acted as a kind of protectors of the Earthly realm – mortals.

However, was such a life good – to be eternally under someone\'s protection, not having the strength to protect oneself?

"…"

I\'m afraid no one knew the answer to this question. And if they knew, they preferred to keep it in their heart.

***

A hundred years for mortals – a day for immortals.

The man\'s life cycle was coming to an end again. He fell into a deep sleep and did not wake up the next day.

A month passed… two months passed… a year flew by. However, he did not wake up.

Bright lights enveloped his body and transported the mortal body to the foot of a mountain, burying it two meters underground.

The Heavenly Dao fell silent, the world froze, and time turned back.

"Why…" the youth lamented, standing before the burning village.

Is life the beginning of everything, and death – the end of everything? But if death is the end of everything, why does reincarnation exist? If life is the beginning of everything, why can\'t it be the end, and death – the beginning?

Do we live in the present or see the remnants of the past? Are we the original soul or the continuation of something?

Does the Dao exist? If it exists, what are its laws? Is the life of a mortal something that does not enter the Dao? If not, why are mortals forced to be born as nobodies and die as nobodies?

A hundred years will pass – dynasties will rise and fall. And the Immortals will still be alive. So why can\'t mortals touch the Dao?

Does the Heaven have a mind? If it does, won\'t it grow old over time?

The world is so complex… and so closed.

***

Xie Qing blinked his eyes. His body glowed with gold, as if he were a Deity. In his head, various chants sounded.

[Dao comprehension detected… attempt to ignite Dao Spark… failure…]

[Dao Root was merged with the soul… success]

[You have received the Dao Embryo. Continue your path]