In the blink of an eye, two days had passed.

The spiritual root given by Jiu Shui was very precious. They were carefully researching and cultivating branches and leaves, throwing in bits to synthesize, seemingly preparing to come up with some results.

But clearly, their progress wasn't as satisfactory as expected.

Because this time, they couldn't rely on Doukou Hong or Xinyi Baisan, absolute secrecy was needed, with Sword Casting Manor forging exclusively.

They were a bunch of counterfeit divine-level professionals, saying they barely reached the threshold was already flattering them, perhaps they could research some ordinary Immortal Weapons.

But forging a national-level Immortal Weapon, comparable to the likes of Sun Moon Immortal Artifacts, was absolutely impossible.

However, could this stop blacksmiths with their "borrow a chicken to lay an egg" technique?

No!

No one could stop their ambitious acts of plagiarism.

Since they couldn't rely on others, they chose to rely on "themselves."

Thus, each day when they sent treasure chests, they would write letters to communicate with the genuine divine-level professionals on the other side, who would also deliver image crystals, teaching experiencing lessons.

The opposite side was after all a genuine divine-level professional who had lived for over a thousand years.

Being their own NPC mentor teaching themselves, this allowed the blacksmiths to enhance their skills rapidly, a truly auspicious opportunity.

They speculated that this was a brand-new plan of the planner!

Exactly.

It was this prearranged outplacement adventure team plug-in, with another "super self," that gave them this major order for weapons, otherwise, they would've been stuck in a bottleneck.

...

Otherworld.

Chronicles of Time.

The flames burned fiercely in the blacksmith shop.

Daojiu had always been steady, but now a thousand years later, his eyes bore a kind of vicissitudes and sophistication that only comes from the accumulation of time, exuding an aura akin to Xinyi Baisan.

With a clatter.

He put down the forging hammer, wiped the sweat with a handkerchief, moved to the side, and opened the just-delivered letter.

After glancing through, he pressed his forehead:

"Interesting, only a short while has passed there, and they're taking on new client orders, still from Jiu Shui, asking for our help."

"Orders for weapons from Jiu Shui? Feels like ages ago," Mudworker, resembling an old farmer with rough, dark skin, embodied the typical essence of Nine-State Shennong, "But just right, crafting designs for such weapons can hone our skills."

Over here, a few real big shots were getting ready to start working.

They began studying the information from the other side, designing weapon blueprints, communicating incessantly, while Soul Divine Doctor Medical Fairy, and Immortal Aunt also joined in.

While researching, suddenly the Medical Fairy said, "Over these hundreds of years, what's the plan for the Night Emperor outside?"

"The order he placed, the things I've crafted for him have long been ready, and he still hasn't come to pick them up?"

"Haha, he's ready to stage a grand show."

...

...

Ye Wumian, had a lovely childhood sweetheart, an idyllic childhood, but everything changed dramatically when he turned eighteen.

His parents died on his birthday, he himself fell severely ill, infinite suffering entangled him.

Moreover, varied misfortunes afflicted him, people around him started to incur bad luck, even his beloved childhood friend Ye Tian'ai was implicated, suddenly falling gravely ill, her cultivation turned Fire and Demonic.

Ye Tian'ai was taken away by her parents to become an apprentice, left to the sect for cultivation, escaping calamity.

"What... what's with this person, how can someone be so unlucky?"

"In my opinion, this Ye Wumian is a Lone Star of Heaven, curses close relatives, and friends, we should stay away from him."

"Truly a strange person."

As Heaven and Earth opened up, it was the Hongmeng Era, they had seen all bizarre and curious primitive beings, but this being was nevertheless too bizarre.

Even some kind physicians who researched his body concluded, "This severe illness and Fire and Demonic, he might not survive another year, better prepare for funerals."

However, a year later, Ye Wumian hadn't died, instead, the compassionate physician who treated him stumbled and died walking on a night road.

The notorious title of Plague God thus came to deserved recognition.

"Quickly, expel him, with him in our tribe, we're doomed!"

"Expel him! Expel him!"

"Why not simply beat him to death?"

"No, this Plague God, approaching him is courting disaster. If beaten to death, who knows what misfortune awaits us."

Ye Wumian was expelled from the tribe, wandering in the wilderness.

In this newly opened world, the ignorant natives had no superstition.

After Ye Wumian appeared, the entire world gradually started embracing feudal superstitions.

And this superstition spread far and wide as Ye Wumian, supported by a crutch, wandered everywhere.

People began to believe in the predestined sayings of this world, the destiny numbers.

But it was indeed peculiar.

This Ye Wumian stumbled while walking, suddenly falling ill, various unlucky events happened around and on him, yet he was always hanging by a thread, neither dead nor alive.

"Is there truly no place for me in this world?"

Ye Wumian, at the entrance of a tribe, was madly pelted with stones, bleeding all over, and stumbled away with a crutch.

He had borne the cruelest insults in the world, the greatest malice from people, and trudged forward carrying a body full of scars, lonely and desolate in his wandering.

His stories made some young martial artists curious, they attempted to kill him, approached him, toyed with him, and afterward all faced misfortune, some even dying bizarrely on the spot, terrifyingly odd.

Immediately, no one dared to come close.

Of course, some compassionate cultivators handed him some food from afar: "Is there still any meaning in living this way?"

Ye Wumian replied, "I don't believe in fate, if there's a destiny, it should be broken."

He firmly believed all sufferings were stepping stones.

The emergence of a hero is full of tempering, spiritually resilient, he's now like a Divine Weapon in the furnace, being forged through a thousand temperings.

This belief supported him to move forward, step by step.

Meanwhile, his childhood sweetheart Ye Tian'ai, however, had consecutive adventures, like Heaven's favored one. After joining a sect for a few years, she rapidly advanced her cultivation, becoming a renowned prodigy.

Ye Tian'ai wasn't heartless. Thinking of Ye Wumian, with whom she had vowed to spend a lifetime, she beseeched sect elders to save him, but alas was confined by the sect elders, forbidden to approach him.

The sect elders feared the misfortune would befall their beloved disciple.

Ye Tian'ai was prohibited from going out, silently worked hard on her cultivation, hoping to seize control of her own destiny.

Day by day, time passed.

In the blink of an eye, fifty years went by.

Ye Wumian dragged his disabled body, traveling through different tribes, traversing various sea domains, trying to find a solution to his strange illness.

He had seen the vast glaciers of the Land of the North.

He had viewed the southern forest's golden pine needle sea.

He had sailed the eastern Endless Golden Magma Ocean.

He had been a guest at the magnificent landscapes of the western Illusionary Land.

But accompanying these beautiful sceneries, was boundless misfortune, vegetation withered, birds and beasts fled.

"My whole life, perfection before eighteen, calamity thereafter, now at seventy... I'm already at the end of my journey."

Ultimately, the seventy-year-old Ye Wumian, aged and withered, feeling his body reaching its limits, couldn't hold on anymore.

No miracle happened to him.

His life was sorrowful, stricken with illness, forcibly survived for so many years due to Ye Tian'ai's continuous secret sending of Pill Medicine.

That winter day was very cold.

Ye Wumian lay motionless in the straw of a shabby hut, gazing at the sky in a trance, his face despairing.

His life, full of strife, could be called a legend but a tragic one.

He thought that he could always endure hardship, would eventually see sweetness from bitterness, never expecting life to end with unsolved bitterness.

He had intended to shout angrily at the sect elders of Ye Tian'ai, do not insult the young for being poor, but it came to be do not insult the old for being poor, and prepared to take it to the grave, the dead are great.

After death, there's no more hope...

"There is no miracle in life," he sighed deeply, his consciousness gradually blurred, unwillingness surging strong as his heart stopped beating, collapsing completely in the worn temple.

This bitter life ended completely, and the confined Ye Tianai ultimately never got to see him again. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

——Death presented no miracles before happening, reality isn't a drama.

In his last moments of blurred consciousness, he seemed to return to that day.

In a run-down little room,

a boy with a straw in his mouth looked at the sky.

Beyond the tribe, a cute little girl called out, "Why did you wake up so late today? The chief has summoned us for cultivation."

"Coming."

The Night Emperor rose.

Yet a miracle did occur, a semi-transparent Embers figure from the body silently stood up and continued the past journey.