Chapter 8: Connecting Heaven and Earth

Originally, Quanxian had seemed rather listless, but suddenly he sat up straight, his tail fin raised high, joy spreading across his brow, the delight visible to the naked eye.

"Quanhui has given birth?!"

Quanxian couldn't help but repeat the news, and Quanke, who had been nestled in his arms, was shaken off. Seeing this, the smile on Quanke's face gradually faded, replaced by a cold glint in his eyes.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The blue-tailed merman nodded, making no attempt to conceal the truth. "It's a boy."

"Wonderful, wonderful!"

Quanxian rose from the throne, swimming excitedly across the high platform, unable to contain the surge of emotion within him.

Quanhui was one of his favored merfolk. Several years ago, during the campaign against the Blackfin tribe, Quanxian had taken a liking to this female merman and had, against custom, bestowed upon her the royal surname "Quan."

Ordinary merfolk also had names. For instance, the blue-tailed merman who brought the news was named Haikuang.

Common merfolk naturally did not possess the royal surname; it was rare and reserved for the royal bloodline. Throughout the merfolk court, fewer than thirty bore the royal surname.

Merfolk births rarely gave warning—usually, within three or four days, a young merman was born. Thus, the birth rate among merfolk was rather low; a merman could expect to have only one or two children in a lifetime, most often during the prime of life, just over two hundred years old. The longer the lifespan, the harder it was to bear offspring.

In the depths of the sea, so long as they did not venture into the abyss, merfolk were virtually without natural enemies.

Though Quanxian had fought countless battles, the power of the giant shark granted by the First God made him invincible.

Yet, in the matter of fatherhood, he was still an inexperienced newcomer. Now, he had his first child.

Originally, Quanxian saw procreation as a duty—to ensure the continuation of his race, to fulfill the task entrusted to him by the First God.

But after decades in the royal court, his perspective had changed. To create a civilization was not only the task given by the First God, but also something he himself wished to accomplish.

The birth of a child was not merely an outlet for his desires; it stirred his very soul with excitement.

This feeling was difficult to put into words; Quanxian only wished to rush to the harem and meet his child.

The other merfolk present had never seen Quanxian in such a state—so animated, so exuberant.

In their memories, the king was a figure of majesty. Seated upon the steps, his words could seal the fate of an entire tribe. Whenever disaster struck, the king always led the charge, his indomitable strength cutting down all threats.

Watching the hurried departure of Quanxian, the expression of Quanke, the sole remaining occupant of the throne, was far from pleasant.

The king had seven mermaid consorts, but Quanke was undoubtedly the merfolk queen.

For one simple reason: Quanke was the second, after Quanxian, to possess a clear mind, and one of only two merfolk to have seen the First God.

When the merfolk king traveled with the First God across lakes and seas, it was Quanke who gathered a tribe, focusing on teaching and guidance, the king's earliest aid.

At this moment, a mermaid attendant at the queen's side suddenly bent low and whispered respectfully, "Your Majesty, if you wish it, while the king is away, I can kill Quanhui and her child, then hurl myself into the abyss and die, so as not to trouble you further."

"There is no need," Queen Quanke sighed, touching her own abdomen. "Let him be. Once he has a child, he will settle down—he will shift from an ambitious king to one who cherishes his people."

As the actual ruler of internal affairs, Quanke understood all too well what a child meant to a merfolk.

After giving birth, even the weakest mother would erupt with strength comparable to a shark.

Quanke stroked her abdomen; she could feel that her own time was near.

There was jealousy, yes, but Quanke did not dwell on it.

In her eyes, her own child would be born a king. The son born to Quanhui, a mere captive, could never rival hers.

She was the queen—the one and only queen of the merfolk!

...

The great bird, brimming with the essence of life, soared higher and farther until it vanished from Liang Yuan's sight.

This primordial bird would bring new changes to the world, creating a race destined for the sky.

"Will that bird also possess wisdom?" Jianmu asked curiously. "Will it return someday?"

"Perhaps," Liang Yuan shook his head. He was the creator of all things, the master who could perceive the past.

But the future held too much uncertainty.

If Liang Yuan so wished, all would unfold according to his desire.

Yet, if he were to decide every detail, it would be far too troublesome, far too dull.

Liang Yuan only wished to act at the pivotal moments, to do what was necessary.

With this thought, he looked at Jianmu. Unbeknownst to him, Jianmu had grown rapidly, constantly stretching upward.

Since receiving new powers from Liang Yuan, Jianmu had entered a second spring, growing wildly, nearly connecting heaven and earth.

Suddenly, Liang Yuan had an idea.

After a moment's contemplation, he spoke: "Jianmu, you must guard this place well. Do not let anyone climb to your treetop. Can you do this?"

"I can, First God, rest assured," came Jianmu's crisp reply, which made Liang Yuan smile.

After the smile faded, Liang Yuan said solemnly,

"Good. You shall be the divine tree, enduring alongside this continent."

Upon hearing this command, Jianmu felt inexplicable joy rise within him.

Then, Liang Yuan followed the trunk upward, gradually disappearing at the edge of the land.

With Liang Yuan's departure, Jianmu began to feel bored—a feeling hard to describe filled his heart.

That feeling was loneliness.

Though Jianmu had endured it for millennia, now the emptiness struck harder than ever, more intense and unsettling.

I can endure darkness, so long as I have never tasted the light.

Now that I have known light, darkness becomes almost unbearable.

He wished to converse with the surrounding trees, but they could not speak.

He wished to talk to the squirrels, but they too were silent.

Thirty years passed thus, and Jianmu finally understood.

He realized why the First God created other races, and he understood what he must do to ease his own boredom and restlessness.

He would bring wisdom to the creatures around him, so they might converse with him.