Chapter 13: Catalyst
Exhaling deeply, Jiang Ping rose to his feet, feeling the stickiness of his sweat-soaked garments. Realizing the dire need for a shower, he disrobed and stepped into the cascading warmth of the water. The sensation that enveloped him was nothing short of exquisite, as it cleansed not only his physical grime but also the weariness that had accumulated within his very being. Emerging from the shower, he beheld his reflection in the mirror—a countenance devoid of wrinkles, replaced by the supple visage of youth.
"My youth has returned," Jiang Ping mused, a smile adorning his lips.
Transmuted into the embodiment of a sixteen-year-old by the elixir of immortality, he marveled at the extraordinary effects it had unleashed upon his body. The true potency of the elixir lay in its remarkable ability to activate and invigorate the very core of his cells, engendering a complete metamorphosis. Jiang Ping could keenly sense the heightened vitality coursing through his being, a symphony of life within his very essence.
Curiosity ignited within him, and he sought enlightenment from Genesis, "Tell me, how much has my life been extended?"
"Considering your present physical state, and unless unforeseen circumstances befall you, you should be capable of living up to two centuries," came the reply, laced with wisdom.
A laughter of unadulterated elation escaped Jiang Ping's lips. Two hundred years of existence lay before him—an existence that would surpass the fleeting lives of countless emperors who succumbed to the ravages of senility in their twilight years. Such was the allure of an elongated lifespan, an insatiable desire that had haunted monarchs throughout the annals of history.
In essence, Jiang Ping now possessed a treasure of incomparable worth—the elixir of immortality—an artifact that, if offered at auction, would command a price in the billions. The world's wealthiest individuals would fervently vie for the opportunity to possess it, captivated by the tantalizing prospect of an extended existence. After all, the transitory nature of human life had long tormented emperors and rulers alike, leaving them yearning for a remedy.
However, in this very moment, Jiang Ping found the allure of monetary wealth to be inconsequential. The act of auctioning such an invaluable artifact was but a distant dream, for he lacked the means to safeguard it adequately. The value he ascribed to material riches had been eclipsed by the profound transformation he had undergone—the metamorphosis of his very being.
Savoring the euphoria of his remarkable evolution, Jiang Ping cast his gaze upon the vast expanse of the Primordial World. Would Lian shan's, with this second Life, continue to astound him?
In this sentence chance, Lian shan had dedicated the majority of his energy to deciphering the Stone of Truth. Although the stone itself had been forcibly taken away, its surface bore a wealth of inscriptions, including the famed "99 Song" passed down by the God—an incantation recited by all denizens of the Primordial World.
The haunting echoes of this celestial melody reverberated ceaselessly throughout the realm, captivating countless beings who delved deep into its mysteries. The multiplication tables inscriptioned on the tablet, once relegated to mere numerical patterns, now became the subject of fervent exploration. Many, including Lian shan himself, adamantly refused to believe that they were nothing more than mundane sums; instead, they intuited the presence of profound significances concealed within.
Amidst the worldwide pursuit of understanding the enigmatic "99 Song," an epochal event unfolded—a discovery made by Lian shan himself. To his dismay, he found that the revered Stone of Truth had vanished, as if swallowed by the abyss.
News of this cataclysmic loss struck Lian shan like a bolt of lightning, causing his blood to surge through his veins, culminating in a resounding collapse. Overwhelmed by an indomitable amalgamation of anger and grief, tears streamed ceaselessly down his visage, an outward manifestation of the turmoil within.
Lian shan, the embodiment of the indomitable King of Humanity, had endured countless trials and tribulations, never surrendering to the clutches of despair. He had even transgressed the boundaries of life and death itself, transcending the limitations of mortality.
In a single night, Lian shan's once raven-black mane transformed into a shock of ethereal white, resembling the purity of freshly fallen snow. With eyes bloodshot from unwavering determination, he issued a proclamation that resounded across the globe, reverberating in the very souls of its inhabitants: "Let it be known that any species that recovers the vanished Truth Stone shall find shelter under the benevolent wing of the Human Race—free from the perils of annihilation."
Pausing momentarily, he clenched his teeth, his voice resolute and unwavering, as an ironclad determination consumed him, "Yet, let it also be known that any individuals found clandestinely harboring this treasure shall be branded as enemies of the entire Human Race! Our tribe shall pursue their capture with relentless fervor!"
With this resounding decree from the King of Humanity, the fate of the Primordial World hung precariously in the balance. Countless tribes and formidable factions were thrust into action, their hearts ablaze with the fervor of surpassing the Human Race and seizing dominion over the realm.
Conflict and bloodshed unfurled across the Primordial World, shattering its once tranquil tapestry. The powerhouses of the Human Race stood poised on the precipice of insanity, driven by an insatiable thirst for the recovered Stone of Truth. Little did they suspect that this coveted relic lay concealed deep beneath the earth's surface, buried beneath thousands of meters of impenetrable soil.
Deep within an expansive labyrinth of intricate ant tunnels, the Ant Queen, her compound eyes rotating with intensity, devoted months to the relentless study of the profound Stone of Truth.
"One times one is one, one times two is two..." Were these intricate, tadpole-like characters mere tools for counting? Or did they conceal deeper truths, waiting to be unearthed?
Even the typically sagacious Ant Queen found herself confounded. Generations of Human Race scholars had dedicated their lives to unraveling the profound mysteries contained within the stone, yet none had achieved a comprehensive understanding. Alone in her contemplation, she cherished the stone, occasionally withdrawing it from its sacred sanctuary to study and reflect, hopeful that its secrets would be unlocked.
The divine slade of gid, fixated solely upon the material realm, stood impervious to the relentless assault of the unwavering soldier ants, commanded by their resolute queen. Their ceaseless endeavor to etch even the faintest mark upon it and attempts to understand it proved utterly futile. The loss of this divine artifact plunged humanity into a maddening frenzy, an insatiable quest to veil the truth, compelling the ant queen to take swift and decisive action. She issued a command, ordering her colony dwelling on the surface to retreat, relinquishing their long-established stronghold, and seeking refuge in the subterranean depths below.
The formidable individuals of humankind unleashed a cataclysmic bloodbath that stained the entire world, even the unfathomable abyss of the ocean, with a crimson hue. It was as if the very fountains of life had been replenished by this calamity, breathing new vitality into the essence used to fashion materials that bestow longevity. Astonishingly, the fortuitous creation of a mere stone slab had ignited a catastrophe, rivaling the devastating trials of eras long past.
Alas, the elusive stone of truth evaded the grasp of all who pursued it. Lian shan, burdened by the weight of advancing age, could no longer defy the inexorable passage of time. His mortal vessel defied the potency of elixirs, rendering the once-potent longevity potion utterly ineffectual, for it could be consumed but once.
In his final moments, he entrusted the noble task of reclaiming the treasure to the heir of the next generation, King Cangnan. The third heir to ascend the throne, Cangnan, possessed a remarkable intellect, akin to that of his esteemed predecessor Lian shan. Like Lianshan, he devoted years of his life to unraveling the cryptic script inscribed upon the Stone of Truth.
His profound comprehension of Jiujiuge, derived from the collective wisdom passed down by countless predecessors, proved instrumental in overcoming numerous adversaries, securing his rightful place as the ruler. As King Cangnan assumed his reign, he actively worked to mend diplomatic ties with allies. In his later years, burdened by the weight of Lian shan's conflicts with numerous influential clans throughout the land, which had greatly eroded the power of the human race, Cangnan embarked on a path of restoration. He recognized that the true essence lay not within the slate itself, but within the boundless knowledge it contained.
With unwavering dedication, he immersed himself in the profound study of Jiujiuge, melding its teachings with the insights handed down by his predecessors. Gradually, a glimmer of truth stirred within the depths of his being. However, such profound understanding did not come swiftly, for it demanded decades of tireless pursuit, traversing the vast expanse of youth to the withered realms of old age. His once lustrous mane, now replaced by scarce, wispy strands of white, bore testament to the toll exacted by the ceaseless passage of time. Despite his consumption of precious medicinal concoctions year-round, his baldness remained an unwavering reminder of his futility, unable to restore his vigor.
One day, while immersed in contemplation on the banks of the Huang River, he cast his gaze upon the ceaseless current, his thoughts adrift in profound introspection. Suddenly, he beheld an elderly man seated upon a nearby rock, wholly engrossed in observing the rushing waters.
Cangnan, seized by a deep curiosity, inquired, "Old man, what captures your unwavering gaze upon the seemingly unremarkable surface of the Huang River?"
"Contours of the low-lying expanses," came the old man's enigmatic reply.
Cangnan chuckled heartily. "Surely, it is the most rudimentary truth that water seeks the path of least resistance. How can one not comprehend such elementary knowledge?"
The old man joined in his laughter. "Ah, I speak not of the river, but of you, dear young one. Despite the advance of years, your spirit remains ever youthful. Just as the course of water is not solely governed by the natural inclination to flow downhill, there exists an underlying mystery yet to be unraveled."
Cangnan was momentarily taken aback, a profound realization permeating his very being. He swiftly responded, "I beseech you, wise one, enlighten me."
The old man spoke leisurely, his words floating gently on the air. "What wisdom can I bestow upon you? Consider this: the sun's celestial journey, the rhythmic dance of the seasons—none are mere happenstance. They embody multifarious truths, concealed beneath their intricate tapestry. And so, when I contemplate the Jiujiuge song you recited earlier, I perceive the world as a mesmerizing tapestry interwoven with numbers—a realm molded by their very essence."
Cangnan's mind reverberated with a resounding revelation, an epiphany that enveloped his entire being. "The most fundamental facets of existence follow diverse trajectories, all resolvable through the divine language of numbers. Jiujiuge, at its core, unveils the formula for unraveling the deepest truths!"
With this newfound understanding, Cangnan beheld the world through a renewed lens, recognizing profound wisdom nestled within the subtlest of transformations. Grateful for the old man's sage guidance, he raised his gaze, only to find the rock vacated. He pondered for a moment if the encounter had been naught but a figment of his vivid imagination, born from the relentless musings of his mind.
Overwhelmed with gratitude, he prostrated himself before the heavens and the earth, paying homage to the river that nourished his land. Unbeknownst to him, Jiang Ping stood in the shadows nearby, silently observing Cangnan's actions, a serene smile gracing his lips. "The seed has been sown," he murmured, "and it is for you to determine its harvest." Jiujiuge, a timeless art dating back to the era of Fuxi, encompasses the very essence of the world's transformations. From these seemingly innocuous numerical elements, the grand design underlying the decline of all things can ultimately be deduced.
With his gaze now fixated upon the enigmatic depths below, Jiang Ping murmured, "These restless creatures are no longer at peace. It appears that the two races are fated to engage in a cataclysmic struggle, a battle to determine dominion over the primordial world."