The sky arched like a dome over the vast expanse of yellow earth.
In the shifting light from darkness to dawn, the newborn red sun leaped above the horizon, yet its rays seemed veiled by a thin gauze, blurred and chaotic.
The air was dry, with something indeterminate—whether mist or haze—drifting across the plains.
Squinting, Ji Chen saw the silhouettes of withered trees frozen in the thick fog.
Their branches were bare, trunks shriveled, resembling elderly folk in their twilight years.
It was already early summer. At Yaoguang Lake, layers of weeping willows hung like curtains, while the streets of Hua Wei City were canopied by tall locust trees, their annoying cicada cries echoing through the town.
Yet in the villages west of Thousand-Ditch Prefecture, the vibrancy of summer had been utterly forgotten.
No cicadas chirped, no birds sang; only the howling wind swept across the dead-silent wilderness. Gusts of sand and soil rose and fell, stinging people’s cheeks.
"When I was a child, this was the largest forest in all of Thousand Canals, stretching seven or eight li from east to west. Elms stood in the east, poplars in the west—so lush you couldn’t see the edges. Kids who wandered into the woods would lose sight of the sun and get lost, unable to find their way out.
"Then, overnight, half the trees died. That year, a famine struck. People dug up every last wild root, ate leaves, stripped bark—and the trees died even faster. After the famine came a severe drought. Over the years, the entire forest vanished."
The speaker was a gaunt old man, leaning on a cane with his right hand and supported by his son on his left. He stood before the newly appointed Minister of Agriculture, Liu the Carpenter, sighing softly and slowly:
"Now, when I tell the village children about the forest, they don’t believe me. Who knows what really happened that year? Some say an Immortal Official cast a spell and ruined the feng shui…"
The middle-aged man supporting him panicked: "Father, how can you speak ill of an Immortal Official!"
The old man’s eyes remained cloudy, showing no fear as he numbly knelt: "Yes, yes, I’m old and confused, nearing my end. Please spare my son, Minister of Agriculture."
"Please, don’t kneel," Liu the Carpenter hurriedly helped him up.
Even in his new robes and tall hat, he struggled to see himself as the Minister of Agriculture.
He still sounded like a carpenter inquiring about a client’s needs: "Elder Zhang, we’ve come mainly to inspect the land and see what everyone needs.
"Will the grain we sent last time last until the autumn harvest? Are the chicks and ducklings surviving? Any insect pests in the fields? As for the future, it’s all up to the new Immortal Official. Speak freely, everyone."
The villagers huddled timidly behind their clan leader, each gaunt and dark as upright cornstalks.
Some had dealt with Liu the Carpenter before and, seeing him as approachable as ever, grew bolder:
"What does the new Immortal Official really intend?"
"I heard all the old taxes are being canceled. Will there be new ones?"
"Some folks in the township say the new Immortal Official is fattening us up for a sacrificial ceremony…"
A new official brings three fires. Even a minor clerk’s appointment would strip the village bare, let alone the highest Immortal Official.
The new Immortal Official's unusual behavior had made Thousand Canals feel like New Year’s, with every village and household rejoicing.
But the joy was short-lived. Bizarre rumors spread like a heavy stone crashing down, shattering the festive atmosphere."Who said anything about new taxes? Only landowners with over a hundred acres pay the 'land tax.' And that talk of offering sacrifices to heaven is nonsense. If you don’t believe me, go to Tiancheng and see for yourselves—the God Temple is locked. No one is allowed to enter and worship. There’s nowhere to even hold a sacrifice."
"You say the God Temple is locked?" The old clan leader suddenly grasped Liu the Carpenter’s hand. "No more offerings?"
Liu the Carpenter was startled. Despite the old man’s frail and withered appearance, he still had such strength: "It was locked on the very first day the new Immortal Official took office. He’s a good man—distributing grain and chickens. Why not give him some credit?"
The villagers mumbled, unable to articulate specific reasons, their expressions awkward and hesitant.
Liu the Carpenter said solemnly, "The fields in your village have already been blessed by the Immortal Official. The grains will sprout by tomorrow morning!"
The crowd erupted in an uproar.
This year, water was scarce, and the land was so hard it was nearly impossible to plow. The entire village was anxious and frustrated.
The old clan leader gripped Liu the Carpenter’s hand again. "Really?"
Liu the Carpenter replied, "I’ve seen the Immortal Official perform his magic with my own eyes. You can ask the neighboring village—their beans have already sprouted. If I’m lying, may I be struck by lightning!"
In his urgency, he swore a fierce oath in the latter half of his statement. The villagers’ mood shifted instantly, brimming with joy:
"Does the Immortal Official sit in the cloud tower of Tiancheng, pointing a finger to bless our land with his magic?"
"Truly the power of an immortal! Thank you, Immortal Official! Thank you, Minister of Agriculture!"
The old clan leader pointed into the distance and asked curiously, "Who is that young man? Why are so many people gathered around him?"
His question piqued everyone’s curiosity. "Yes, we saw him walking through the village fields yesterday, wandering around late into the night. And early this morning, he was pacing around this withered grove outside the village."
Liu the Carpenter turned to look and froze for a moment.
Amid the barren trees, a figure knelt on one knee, slowly tracing the dry, hard soil with a serious expression.
A dozen or so young people stood around him, watching him intently, almost like children gathered around their father.
Then the figure stood up, waved his hand, and someone promptly handed him a shovel. He began digging a hole as if to plant a sapling.
Witnessing this scene, Liu the Carpenter’s eyes grew complex, overflowing with admiration, respect, and gratitude, with a faint hint of pride.
But he did not answer, only saying, "You’ll find out when we leave."
…
Everywhere Song Qianji went, he first touched the land.
To avoid being worshipped, he did not reveal his identity.
Liu the Carpenter guessed that the new Immortal Official preferred to keep a low profile, only informing the local villagers just before he departed.
Seeing Song Qianji begin to work, Ji Chen also picked up a shovel and started digging. "What can even be planted in this withered grove? Grains or beans?"
"Not crops, only trees and grass," Song Qianji replied.
Ji Chen sighed. "Such a large piece of land, what a waste."
Song Qianji found it perfectly normal. Planting anything was still planting—the joy was undiminished!
Originally, this grove served as a natural barrier for Thousand-Ditch Prefecture, shielding it from wind and sand.
Not every piece of land should be used for growing crops.
Thousand Canals was vast and sparsely populated, larger than a hundred Hua Wei cities combined. The latter had a population of over a million, while Thousand Canals had a mere hundred thousand.
The land that was actually cultivated and capable of yielding crops was already scarce.
Some areas were barren and lacked fertility, others were dry and hard with little water. Some suffered from black sandstorms and droughts for most of the year, while others were crisscrossed with ravines, making it impossible to even dig roads.
In present-day Thousand Canals, the yield per acre was extremely low, and the land was plagued by all manner of hardships.Reckless land reclamation would only lead to increasingly barren results. Repairing barriers, protecting water and soil, and nurturing Spirit Qi were far more important than reclaiming wasteland.
Song Qianji was growing increasingly in sync with the Fountain of Immortality, but he still couldn’t truly wield such a treasure of heaven and earth.
What he quietly drew out was merely the spiritual mist drifting from the bottle’s mouth.
The spiritual mist nourished his meridians and eventually, flowing through his fingertips, swiftly permeated the soil.
The dormant land seemed to awaken, as vitality emerged from nothingness.
He took pleasure in creating life—a sense of achievement similar to sowing seeds and reaping harvests, which brought a satisfied smile to his face.
"Creating life is harder than destroying it."
Song Qianji recalled these words once more, spoken to him in his previous life by an old monk.
The monk had traveled far and wide to preach, but Song Qianji had paid little heed. After being reborn and taking up farming, many sayings he had once dismissed or failed to understand gradually became clear in his mind.
Would he ever meet that wandering old monk again?
The thought flashed by briefly. But just like his desire to see the "Savior" Wei Zhenyu, he held no obsessive urge to seek him out.
When Ji Chen and the other Outer Sect disciples witnessed this for the first time, they assumed Song Qianji was infusing the land with his own Spirit Qi and were utterly astonished.
Someone suggested, "Let’s all contribute, so Senior Brother Song can conserve some energy."
Song Qianji firmly refused, "The Cultivation Method I practice is unique. Your efforts would be ineffective and only waste Spirit Qi."
In private, discussions about this matter inevitably took on a tone of somber admiration.
Ji Chen shook his head, "Brother Song has dedicated himself entirely to Thousand Canals. I truly admire him."
Ji Xing added, "He gives so much for Thousand Canals, yet its people hardly appreciate it."
Zhou Xiaoyun comforted, "The previous Immortal Officials deceived the common folk and left behind a mess. We’ve just arrived—handing out supplies and providing a few days of full meals won’t instantly build trust. When pie falls from the sky, people will always suspect it’s a trap."
After sharing their somber reflections, they encouraged one another.
Qiu Dacheng declared, "Senior Brother Song excels in both chess and calligraphy—a genius of extraordinary talent. Yet he toils in the fields with a hoe. What we do pales in comparison."
Xu Kanshan added, "Thousand Canals was once a treasured land but has fallen into such decline. What’s so impressive about cultivators seeking out lands of favorable geography? We can create one ourselves! Let Thousand Canals regain its Spirit Qi and restore its vitality through our efforts."
With Song Qianji "leading by example," the Outer Sect disciples united in purpose. Whether delivering chickens to villages or hunting in the forests, every task felt like a grand mission to change the world.
Song Qianji set down his shovel and summoned the newly appointed Minister of Agriculture:
"After I leave, please inform everyone that the saplings distributed earlier can now be planted. Inspections will take place during the autumn harvest. For every sapling that survives, a reward of two taels of grain will be given."
Liu Er nodded repeatedly while quickly calculating in his mind: if all the planted saplings miraculously survived, the village wouldn’t need to farm this year—they could fill their bellies and even save surplus grain for the New Year just by planting trees.
The new Immortal Official was truly benevolent.
"Are you going to rest?" Liu the Carpenter asked respectfully. "You’ve been on the move for half a month."
After interacting with the Outer Sect disciples, he had come to understand that cultivators were once ordinary people too—they could get injured in battles, and their magical abilities weren’t limitless. Overexertion would still leave them weary.
The new Immortal Official had been performing spells everywhere—his energy expenditure must be immense.
"To the next village," Song Qianji declared with unwavering drive, waving his hand. "Board the boat!"
In his Purple Palace, the Fountain of Immortality responded to his will, humming softly and radiating a shimmering Gathered Light in seven colors.
Song Qianji led his team across every corner of Thousand Canals.
Many years later, this experience would appear in Liu the Carpenter's memoirs in his later years—the opening chapter of Walking with the God King.Already literate and well-read, Liu Er proved to be a diligent writer. Under the unceasing candlelight in the study, he penned precious memories with simple, accessible, yet sincere words:
If you come from overseas and ask where the center of the four great continents lies, everyone will tell you—it is, of course, Thousand-Ditch Prefecture.
Thousand Canals, the capital of a thousand chariots, is rich, beautiful, prosperous, and flourishing. Wanderers dream of it, poets write verses about it, calling it the land where miracles are born.
Here, you will find the longest bridge, the largest reservoir, the most windmills, the most advanced metallurgy techniques, the most precise irrigation magical artifacts, the safest formations, and the most comprehensive laws.
Here, the boundary between cultivators and mortals is blurred, constantly creating miracles and bringing about great changes to the entire world.
The rise of Thousand Canals was not smooth sailing; it was accompanied by struggles of blood and fire. Countless towering heroes risked their lives for it.
I am but one of the insignificant builders of Thousand Canals and also a witness to this history.
The beginning of all legends starts with Song Xian Guan setting foot on this barren land.
When he arrived, he sealed the God Temple and spoke his first words to the people: "Do not worship me. I will not fulfill any of your wishes."
Even when Thousand Canals enjoyed favorable weather, and the fields turned green, and he became the spiritual faith of thousands of people, he still said, "Do not worship me. I will not fulfill any of your wishes."
It was only many years later that I understood the true meaning of Song Xian Guan’s words:
True Thousand Canals spirit lies not in praying to gods or buddhas but in creating everything with one’s own hands.
But at that time, people did not understand, and neither did I.
The fifteen-year-old Song Xian Guan stood quietly in the fields, more like a young man with a gentle temperament.
Not like a divine king who could reshape the heavens and earth and pioneer a new world.
…
As soon as the book Walking with the Divine King was published, it was immediately sold out and later exported overseas.
People tried to glimpse the true faces of Song Qianji and those familiar names, the elegant and distinguished figures, through the gaps in the simple words.
But that was many years later.
Now, Song Qianji had just received a handwritten reply from Liu Xianguan of the neighboring Hongfu Prefecture, inviting him to meet at the border of the two prefectures.
"We can start preparing to dig the canals," Song Qianji said.
Meng Heze read the letter over and over, skipping the long string of polite and empty words, but found no hint of compromise from the other side. He couldn’t help but worry:
"Senior Brother Song, it seems Liu Hongshan is trying to swindle us. Rumor has it he’s about to break through to the Nascent Soul stage and won’t be easy to deal with. This letter is also full of twists and turns."
Song Qianji smiled. "It’s fine."
His calm assurance made Meng Heze feel confident. "Alright! Who’s afraid of whom? Let him come."
Song Qianji summoned the Minister of Rites: "Post a notice. The Immortal Official Manor is recruiting people to dig river channels and repair canals. We’ll provide food and lodging, plus two catties of grain and half a catty of pork per day. Oh, and you and the Minister of Military Affairs have been idle lately—you can join too. Those who previously offered treasures at the God Temple also seem to have nothing to do. It’s a good time to call them all."
The Minister of Rites was taken aback.
Make them repair canals? What a joke. With such meager rations of grain and meat, which noble or wealthy lord would be willing to do manual labor?
He felt that Song Qianji was deliberately making things difficult and must have some deeper meaning. Cautiously, he probed, "When will the work begin? Aren’t you about to leave?"
Considering the timing, their gifts and Old Master Li’s letter should have already reached Liu Xianguan.
At the thought of this, he struggled to contain his excitement.
Song Qianji glanced at him, his expression not displeased, and said calmly:
"Recruit the people."That single glance placed immense pressure on the Minister of Rites, making it impossible for him to breathe. Cold sweat instantly broke out on his forehead:
"Yes, Immortal Official!"
For three years, Thousand Canals had seen no rain. Most households outside the celestial city relied on well water to survive.
The drought in the southwest arrived without warning, following no logic. No one knew exactly when it started, but one day the wells simply stopped yielding water.
People crossed gullies and ridges to fetch water from neighboring villages. If they were lucky, the neighboring wells still had water. If not, they could only resign themselves to fate.
To the north, near the Poison Barrier Forest, the fierce beasts were even more unreasonable.
High-level demon beasts possessed strong territorial instincts. They carved out their domains in the heart of the Poison Barrier Forest, driving the lower-level demon beasts to the forest's edge.
Thus, the lower-level demon beasts took advantage of the night to slip out of the forest, devouring people and destroying fields.
This year was different. After the new Immortal Official took office, he personally traveled throughout Thousand Canals, performing immortal arts. The new Minister of Agriculture subsequently promoted the Curved Shaft Plow.
Despite the drought in the southwest, the seeds still sprouted. Tender green shoots shot up day by day, their growth vigorous and promising.
To the north, a hunting team composed of immortal masters took shifts, with disciples under the Immortal Official's command rotating duties. This completely reversed the food chain between humans and demon beasts.
The demon beasts were large in size, so northern villagers now had meat with every meal. Any surplus was hung to air-dry, saved for the New Year, with some even gifted to relatives in neighboring villages.
When news spread that "the Immortal Official is conscripting laborers to dig canals, diverting water from neighboring counties," it immediately caused a sensation everywhere:
"Not building more God Temples or expanding the Immortal Official Manor, but digging water channels?"
"Have you lost your mind? The God Temples have long been sealed shut. I believe in Song Xian Guan!"
"If building canals can ensure our village never worries about water again, I'll do it even without pay or provisions."
Yet many remained skeptical. In the past, when conscripting laborers to build God Temples, many benefits were promised initially. But upon reaching the celestial city, they were forced to work day and night, with the slightest slack earning them lashes from the foremen.
Unable to eat their fill or sleep properly, suffering daily beatings—the hardship was truly unbearable.
"Meals provided daily, plus pork? How could such a good thing exist?"
While Meng Heze and Ji Chen accompanied Song Qianji to the border for negotiations, the "Chicken Delivery Team" quartet was responsible for this labor recruitment registration.
Ji Xing went out to check the situation, while the other three sat in the room, frowning with worry.
Zhou Xiaoyun: "What if no one shows up? We can't possibly force people to work, right?"
As former Outer Sect disciples who had worked in Huawel Sect, what they hated most was being forcibly assigned dirty or arduous tasks by the Deacons.
Xu Kanshan slapped his thigh: "Then we'll just work hard! Let's recall all the hunting teams from the Poison Barrier Forest. Cultivators are strong and work fast."
Qiu Dacheng said: "With hands and feet, there's nothing we can't do!"
Suddenly, Ji Xing burst through the door: "Bad news, bad news! Why are you all still sitting here?"
Xu Kanshan exclaimed in shock: "Has Huawel Sect sent elders to hunt us down? Have they already broken into Thousand Canals this quickly?"
"Bah, bah, bah!" Ji Xing said angrily, "It's the people coming to sign up! They've blocked the entire street! We only need a thousand, but there are nearly five thousand out there! Hurry, come out with me!"
OpenNovel