The Origin of Mankind

Qin Yue surveyed the surroundings for a moment before withdrawing her gaze and saying to Luo Yu, “This valley isn’t as large as I imagined. It’s just a small basin nestled among the mountains. The spiritual ginseng outside the formation hasn’t been taken—perhaps this place has no master. Shall we go in and take a look?”

At her words, a mischievous thought immediately arose in Luo Yu’s mind. “No master means it could have one, right? The Land Registry wouldn’t even know about this place. Can we just claim it for ourselves?”

Qin Yue replied coldly, “Do you have the strength to keep it?”

Luo Yu retorted fiercely, “Not now, but in the future, I’ll gladly take it for myself!”

Qin Yue couldn’t help but curl her lips in amusement and tapped him on the head. “Let’s see if anyone’s here first before making plans.”

With that, the two began to climb down the cliff.

Luo Yu leapt from a boulder several meters high, shaking his head in mock pride, and, imitating Gong Jin Qian, declared, “I wonder how my skills compare to Dugu Qiubai or the Sweeper Monk from Shaolin? Perhaps I could even last a hundred moves against them.”

Qin Yue considered this and replied, “You could learn some martial arts techniques.”

Luo Yu nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly, with such a good foundation, it’d be a shame not to learn some moves. This task is yours. I’ll handle alchemy and formations, and you’ll cover me. Good friends work together, after all.”

Qin Yue’s expression darkened. “We’re not ‘good friends’ in that sense.”

Luo Yu said, “You’re behind the times. Brothers-in-arms are called ‘good friends’ now. Come on, say it for me?”

Qin Yue ignored him, face stern, and walked on.

Luo Yu found a familiar joy in teasing her, reminiscent of a past thrill—something like ‘an encounter wipes away all grudges.’ He found it highly amusing and trotted after her, continuing, “Even the local spirit said we’re Dao companions. Clearly, I’m worthy of you. Why so annoyed?”

Qin Yue, now truly exasperated, snapped, “Shut up!”

Luo Yu burst into laughter. “Haha—blushing, are you?”

As they walked, they felt the dense spiritual energy and spring-like warmth. They saw many strange flowers, rare herbs, and unknown animals—creatures that seemed unfamiliar with humans and didn’t flee. Some birds paused mid-hunt, cocking their heads to study them; bolder little animals crept along, curious and trailing behind.

Luo Yu remarked, “It feels like we’re being observed.”

Qin Yue replied calmly, “Probably because no one’s entered here for many years. These creatures have no sense of danger.”

“How many years? Could there be dinosaurs?” Luo Yu joked.

“Even if there were, they’d have evolved beyond recognition by now,” Qin Yue answered.

Luo Yu stared, incredulous. “Could it really be so long?”

Qin Yue replied, “The ancient era of cultivation predates human history. Formations like this may be older than the mountains themselves. Perhaps when it was built, these hills hadn’t even risen.”

Luo Yu was skeptical. “But if there were no mountains, why did the outside look mountainous?”

Qin Yue explained, “Formations are ever-changing, but the ancient ones are especially profound. Even if their main purpose was to block ordinary creatures, they were made to blend seamlessly with the terrain. That’s called ‘specialization,’ understand?”

Luo Yu nodded. “Got it. These formations are like code—you can write variables into them.”

After a moment’s thought, Luo Yu asked, “If civilization existed before humans, does that mean the legend of Nuwa creating mankind is true?”

Qin Yue replied, “Who can say? In the West, they claim God created man; in the East, Nuwa did. Maybe each made a part? Perhaps ‘creating man’ doesn’t mean crafting a person in one go, but simply marks the origin of humanity. To truly create a complete human, one would need to master all the laws of existence—a feat perhaps only the ancient divine clans could accomplish. Their lives spanned eons, accumulating knowledge and mastering laws, so originating a species in their own image would be easy. Such a spark could ignite a prairie fire, giving rise to all life. Humans might just be the branch that most closely resembles their blueprint, a result of pronounced atavism. Was it that ‘severe atavism led them to seek their ideal environment,’ or did ‘the environment shape humans into what they are’? Who can say? Our ability to use magic is likely a random inheritance of ancient divine traits—another form of atavism.”

Luo Yu was stunned. “Why has no cultivator ever told humanity this?”

Qin Yue replied, “‘God created man’—who doesn’t know that? Few believe it now. Humanity has developed its own science and only trusts itself. Unless cultivators appear on TV and explain it, few would believe. Besides, those old relics would never do such a thing, and their rigid thinking means they couldn’t explain it well. They don’t even grasp ‘atavism’ or ‘evolution,’ and look down on scientific research. If not for their mindset, the cultivation world wouldn’t have fallen so far. My father always said, with such a long life, if you don’t engage with the world, you’ll be left behind—even as a cultivator.”

Luo Yu reflected silently before saying, “If I didn’t know some science, I wouldn’t have made it this far.”

Qin Yue smiled kindly. “If I hadn’t heard your views on programming, I wouldn’t believe you could grasp formations. As you said, the laws within each field are interconnected. If you master the rules of programming, you can create World of Warcraft or Windows; if you master the rules of alchemy, you can make countless elixirs. All living things touch on the laws of the world—humans are no exception, and will inevitably understand things cultivators haven’t. Science studies those laws. With so many people researching the laws of heaven and earth for us, our path should be smoother.”

Luo Yu’s blood was boiling with excitement. He clenched his fist. “I’ll study hard and improve every day! I want to have ambitions like Orochimaru! You know Orochimaru? He once said, ‘Life has no meaning, but by living, you will find all sorts of interesting things.’ No wonder he researched Reanimation Jutsu—a human life is just too short! I understand and sympathize with him. If only he had spiritual roots, all his problems would be solved! I need more time, too. Let’s see if there are any rare herbs inside—improving our alchemy means longer life!”

With his speech concluded, Luo Yu dashed forward, then stopped and patted Qin Yue on the shoulder. “You really are my mentor and friend.” With that, he ran on ahead.

Qin Yue stood still for a moment, her heart suddenly warmed, and then strode after him.

Strolling through this paradise, they were surrounded by strange and wondrous plants. Even though Luo Yu had read about many species, he couldn’t name most of them now—only guess their family. If a botanist were here, he’d probably be so excited he’d have an aneurysm.

They marveled at everything as they walked, and after a few steps, Qin Yue suddenly looked ahead. “There are some spiritual herbs over there.”

Luo Yu extended his spiritual sense and found them too.

They walked over and on a rock beside a small waterfall found several clumps of herbs resembling fiery red coral, faint golden threads visible on the branches. Luo Yu saw their form and knew at once these were ancient—so primitive they hadn’t even developed leaves. They leapt onto the rock, and Luo Yu asked, “Do you recognize this?”

Qin Yue frowned, thinking for a while. “No. I don’t practice alchemy, so I never paid attention to this sort of thing.”

Just as Luo Yu was about to reach out, Qin Yue caught his hand. “Careful, it could be poisonous.”

Luo Yu nodded, found a stone shard, scraped a bit of the plant, and sniffed it. No pungent smell—just a rich aroma, mellow and wonderful like wine, yet not quite the same. “Seems safe,” he said, then dabbed some on his skin. It felt warm and soothing, and spiritual energy seeped in. After ten minutes with no reaction, he concluded, “Most likely non-toxic. Bring a box!”

They selected the largest specimens, leaving the smallest to grow, then moved on.

As they walked, they collected every rare flower and spiritual herb they found, planning to study their uses later.

They moved slowly for half a day, and as dusk fell, decided to make camp.

While pitching the tent, Luo Yu mused, “There don’t seem to be any predators here?”

“Perhaps when the ancient formation was built, the fierce beasts were all driven out. The ones here now might have crawled out of the water later,” Qin Yue replied.

“So there might be monsters in the water!” Luo Yu exclaimed.

Qin Yue nodded.

Night slowly descended, and the ancient stars shone bright in the sky.

Luo Yu lay outside the tent, chewing a blade of grass, reluctant to sleep. The night was so beautiful: a gentle breeze, the quiet chirring of insects. It’s said that a bright moon dims the stars, but here moon and stars shone together, dazzling across the sky.

He had never seen such a clear night—so beautiful it left him dazed, thinking of family, of life, and feeling a strange sadness.

Cultivation… what then? After mastering everything, what would be left? Would he become like the ancient cultivators, out of touch with the world, unable to relate, unable to use technology, finding fault with everything…? Would he, too, end up a relic, hiding from people?

Lost in such thoughts, he didn’t notice Qin Yue come to sit beside him.

“What are you doing lying here?” she asked.

Luo Yu murmured, “Once you’ve cultivated, avenged your family, what’s left?”

Qin Yue paused, glancing at him. “Why are you thinking about such pointless things?”

Luo Yu said, “A thousand years from now, will I have to hide away like those old relics?”

She studied him quietly for a while. “You’re not them.”

Luo Yu was silent.

Qin Yue looked away. “You once said that in programming, you have to keep up with the times to stay at the top. Isn’t life the same? Even in another world, if you work to fit in, that world will be yours.”

“So you’re a philosopher, too,” Luo Yu teased.

She answered gently, “That’s something you, your uncle, and your grandfather once taught me.”

Now Luo Yu perked up. “Ha, you do like us!”

Qin Yue seemed a little embarrassed but nodded.

Luo Yu, delighted, leaned against her. “From now on, we’ll always be together, no matter how many years pass!”

Qin Yue said, “Alright.”

With that, Luo Yu’s gloom vanished, and he shouted, “I just remembered Orochimaru once said: ‘Life has no meaning, but living on, you’ll find all kinds of interesting things’—truly wise! From today on, I declare Orochimaru my idol! I want to become the ultimate being in the world!”

Qin Yue gave him a light smack on the head. “You have too many ambitions for a mere Qi-refiner.”

“Don’t hit my head—I’ll get stupider!” Luo Yu protested.

Qin Yue retorted, “You’re quite foolish already.”

Luo Yu fumed, rolling over to tackle her. “How dare you call me stupid!”

Qin Yue lay there calmly. “That’s called being flustered.” Before he could react, she reversed their positions, pinning him down. “See? Still reckless.”

Luo Yu struggled with all his might, but his small frame was no match—he was held fast. He shouted, “I’ll accuse you of molestation!”

Qin Yue said, “Scream all you want; no one will come.”

They wrestled on the grass until Luo Yu was too exhausted to move. He let his arms fall and lay spread-eagled.

Qin Yue, still pinning him, smiled with her eyes. “Giving up?”

Luo Yu just panted, glaring without replying.

Finally, Qin Yue released him and lay beside him.

Seeing his chance, Luo Yu pounced again, pinning her down. This time, Qin Yue didn’t resist, remaining passive.

Emboldened, Luo Yu began to joke, “Little beauty, just surrender and follow me. I’ll treat you well.”

But Qin Yue simply lay there, quiet, lost in thought, neither angry nor retorting.

Luo Yu, seeing her nonchalance, suddenly felt awkward—this really did make him seem like a pervert.

That thought flashed through his mind, and he looked into her eyes.

Qin Yue was gazing quietly back, their eyes meeting.

After a few seconds, Luo Yu’s face began to burn. He quickly withdrew his hand and slid off.

They lay side by side in silence for a long time.

Eventually, Luo Yu blurted out, “When you get married, you have to still visit me often… In fact, you might as well just live at my place, bring your wife too. Don’t leave me alone… If one day my dad and grandpa are gone… you’ll be the only one I have.”

Qin Yue said, “What are you afraid of? Didn’t we just make a promise?”

Luo Yu replied, “I forgot you might get married.”

Qin Yue responded coldly, “And you won’t?”

“I’m not at that stage yet, but you are,” Luo Yu said.

Qin Yue snorted, “For cultivators, marrying a thousand years later is hardly late.”

Luo Yu imitated her snort and fell silent.

End of chapter.