Chapter 3: Races

The four hundred and eighty-sixth awakening.

This time, Liang Yuan had only slept for eighty million years.

Yet when he opened his eyes, he noticed many differences.

The universe now teemed with new planets, each formed from a mixture of impurities, but none possessed the conditions for life to arise.

On the land of Jiuzhou, however, the forests were lush and thriving, and some animals had already entered Liang Yuan's sight.

There were bears, deer, tigers... and many strange creatures he did not recognize, beings that did not exist in his former knowledge.

But insects still vastly outnumbered all others.

Even though he tried his best to shape this world after Earth, it was inevitably different.

At this thought, Liang Yuan couldn't help but smile at his own folly, chuckling softly to himself, “This place is its own, after all. It is not Earth.”

He gazed once more at the vast mountains and rivers, pondered for a moment, and said with a smile, “Planet Two is now the moon. Planet One can’t be called One forever. The continent has split into nine parts; I’ll call it Jiuzhou—the Nine Provinces.”

As for the specific names of places, he would leave them for the beings of this world to decide.

Shaking his head, Liang Yuan sent out a thought that swept across the oceans.

With such diversity of life, could the merfolk he anticipated have finally emerged?

With this hope, Liang Yuan descended into the shallows.

Sunlight streamed through the tranquil waters, refracted and scattered like a spectrum, casting iridescent hues over the rocks, plants, shells, and corals on the seabed.

In the shallow sea, a figure with a human torso and a fish’s tail caught all of Liang Yuan’s attention.

Scales covered its body, the powerful muscles spoke of strength, yet what disappointed Liang Yuan was that this being was locked in a bare-handed struggle with a sea turtle, its eyes clouded and lifeless, hair wild, teeth sharp and lips thin.

It was far removed from the graceful and beautiful image of merfolk he’d once imagined.

“Roar—!!”

The moment Liang Yuan appeared, the merman became alert, letting out a guttural howl in his direction.

Within the sounds were hints of a primitive language; from the cadence, Liang Yuan could discern meanings like “threat” and “warning.”

He could see that the being’s mind was shrouded in chaos and emptiness.

It was indeed an intelligent lifeform—given a few dozen million more years of evolution.

But...

Liang Yuan shook his head and took a step forward. In the next instant, he was beside the merman.

“Yake?!”

At the sight, the merman panicked, his voice trembling with terror as he gazed at Liang Yuan, eyes full of dread.

“Do not fear.”

Liang Yuan extended his hand and touched the merman’s brow.

Where he made contact, ripples spread out as if on water.

A cool sensation flowed from his fingertip into the merman’s mind.

In a flash, the coolness parted the fog within, clearing away the confusion, and a sudden clarity awakened his consciousness.

The merman’s expression grew animated; he quickly bowed to Liang Yuan, respect etched upon his face.

“You... You...”

With great effort, the merman managed to utter a few broken words: “God... Origin God... I...”

Seeing this, Liang Yuan was greatly satisfied.

For the first time in hundreds of millions of years, he had heard another intelligent being speak.

Though the merman’s words were not in Chinese, Liang Yuan understood their meaning.

“Why do you call me Origin God?” Liang Yuan asked with a smile.

The merman hesitated, puzzled himself.

The name seemed to come from somewhere deep within his blood and bones, a call from the very depths of his soul.

No reason at all.

Observing this, Liang Yuan found it rather interesting and said, “For now, follow me.”

Though the merman now possessed wit, his mind was still a blank slate. He was the first among his kind to awaken full intelligence, and Liang Yuan hoped he would lead the merfolk to greater prosperity.

Their numbers were neither too few nor too many.

For a Creator God still learning his own ways, such a race was just right to observe.

Seeing the merman’s bewildered look, Liang Yuan flicked his sleeve and strolled along the ocean floor. The merman, seeing this, hurried after him.

Liang Yuan was full of curiosity about the seabed.

Though he was the oldest being in this universe, he had spent far more time asleep than awake, and his feelings toward this world of his own making were complex.

Now, he felt like a parent, separated from a child for decades, both estranged and familiar, newly awakened and eager to understand the world he had shaped.

The merman followed behind Liang Yuan. With reason now awakened, everything in this new world filled him with wonder.

Before, when passing through, his face would betray no ripple of emotion. Now, with consciousness, he explored everywhere—darting through coral reefs, weaving among schools of fish.

“Your kindred.”

Suddenly, Liang Yuan’s voice came to his ear. The merman turned and saw a savage fellow merman, arms thick with mud, catching fish with bare hands, sharp teeth bared, features ugly and brutish.

“No... That is not... my kind...”

His words were halting and anxious; he seemed to loathe being associated with such a state.

“I...”

He looked at Liang Yuan, and though he didn’t finish his sentence, Liang Yuan understood: he wished to say he was now like Liang Yuan.

“You are not like me,” Liang Yuan replied. “You have no legs; I have no tail. You are a merman, a race of the vast ocean.”

“The gift of reason should not lead you to shame in your kind, nor to indifference. You should work to change your people. Your wisdom is meant to help them escape ignorance, not simply to separate yourself from them.”

Liang Yuan’s words were calm, but they filled the merman with a sense of shame.

“Origin God, I beg you, grant...”

The merman half-opened his mouth, as if pleading with Liang Yuan, who only shook his head.

“To grant him reason, or others, what then? What of your descendants? Must they all wait for my gift?”

Why not?

The merman was puzzled.

To him, the Origin God was the god of the merfolk; it was only natural that he remain with them.

Seeing his confusion, Liang Yuan shook his head.

He could not remain with the merfolk forever, even if such an idea occurred to him. A merman’s lifespan was four or five centuries at most, while Liang Yuan was eternal, unending.

“I cannot always be with you. You are the first merfolk with reason. You have a responsibility to bear.”

Liang Yuan’s words left the merman bewildered once more. After a pause, Liang Yuan continued, “Let us start with the first step.”

“You need a name.”

“A name?”