Gui Zihan walked over to the water's edge and said to Chen Chuan, "I'll go in first."
Chen Chuan nodded in agreement. Though he knew the First People likely harbored no ill intent, they were operating as a team, and proper procedures had to be maintained under certain circumstances.
Gui Zihan switched his boundary credential to high-signal mode, which would accurately reflect his physical condition within a short range. Once set, he leaped straight into the lake, followed closely by two team members assigned to support him.
Yet as soon as they plunged in, their previously sharp field signals dropped to a faint murmur.
Chen Chuan had anticipated this, guessing it was the dampening effect of some esoteric ritual. Even so, relying on his spiritual perception, he could sense that the signals coming from the other side were perfectly steady, which meant nothing had gone wrong.
After a considerable wait, Gui Zihan re-emerged from the water and nodded to the gathered crowd.
"Move in," Chen Chuan ordered.
At his command, the team proceeded inside in orderly succession. They did not neglect precautions either, dispersing specially modified bio-insects along the way that would react if anyone followed them inside. They had been setting these traps along their entire route.
Of course, anyone capable of tailing them would be no ordinary foe, so these measures served only as an early warning to ensure they would not be caught entirely off guard by a sudden ambush.
More and more people waded into the lake. Everyone had braced themselves to hold their breath, but the expected suffocation never came. Instead, it felt as though they were passing through a layer of intangible mist, sinking downward uncontrollably. Finally, as if crossing some threshold, their bodies grew heavy, and their feet met solid ground.
Spread before their eyes was a space even vaster and grander than the Lake of Gems. Two rows of spiraled stone pillars, nearly a hundred meters tall, towered into the air and stretched all the way to the edge of sight. Each pillar was carved with exquisite, intricate, and non-repeating reliefs. Straight ahead lay a broad, straight avenue, easily wide enough to accommodate ten carriages running side by side.
Flanking the outer reaches of the thoroughfare was an endless expanse of golden wheat fields. The crop appeared freshly ripened, its plump ears emitting a soft, faint luminescence. A breeze stirred from nowhere, setting the sea of wheat into rhythmic, undulating waves, sending ripples of golden light cascading across the plain.
The First People who had entered ahead of the rest were already kneeling on the ground in tears, weeping as they gazed upon the scene. "The Golden Wheat Field... it really is the Golden Wheat Field—"
Bringing up the rear of the procession, Chen Chuan arrived and beheld this wondrous vista. The Golden Wheat Field had been an enduring legend among the First People of the Ying Continent for generations.
Lore had it that the Golden Wheat Field left behind by their ancestors could yield a harvest once every thirty days. Word of it had reached even as far as Great Shun. In the old era, emperors had dispatched envoys and Xuanists to seek it out, though none had ever succeeded.
Seeing it now, even if the stories were embellished, the truth could not be far off.
Food was the foundation of all things. With this as a cornerstone, rebuilding Kawatua was no mere fantasy; it was genuinely attainable.
A technical specialist in the expedition widened his eyes and stared at the sight with palpable excitement. "This must be the luminescent wheat that can grow underground. Every country is currently researching this technology."
He gasped in awe. "To think the First People were already cultivating it in antiquity!"
Someone asked in confusion, "If they were using it in ancient times, does that mean their technology was more advanced than ours?"
The technician shook his head. "Not necessarily. A lot of technology comes from the cultivation and modification of wild parent strains. The problem is that nations across the world have never found the right primordial seed stock, leaving them to select and optimize generation after generation on their own. If you have the proper strain from the start, you bypass countless detours. These First People must have discovered the ideal parent stock long ago."
He glanced around and added, "Look at the irrigation system they're using. It's still a relatively prim—traditional method."
The expedition's esoteric ritual experts did not entirely agree with that assessment. In their view, evaluating it strictly from a technological perspective might lead to such a conclusion, but sophisticated, high-level esoteric rituals were clearly at work here.
Even with primitive irrigation, the First People achieved remarkable results. Since rituals could accomplish the same end, introducing advanced technology would be redundant—demanding more resources, requiring expensive maintenance, and yielding little reward for tremendous effort. What stood before them was already perfection.
After a long while, Elder Gale rose to his feet. He glanced to both sides and noticed a series of fluorite statues flanking the entrance to the grand avenue. The carvings were lifelike, depicting bizarre, serpent-like creatures whose open mouths hung directly over eggplant-shaped chalices of luminous stone, each brimming with a milky white liquid.
Delight washed over his face. He hurried over, lifted one of the vessels, and rushed back to Chen Chuan, presenting it with both hands. "Honored guest, please drink."
Chen Chuan accepted the chalice without asking what it was and took a sip. It tasted like a blend of honey and milk, remarkably smooth on the palate.
Moreover, he discovered that it supplied an abundance of energy on par with delicacies from the Melded Lands, and after swallowing it, his sense of environmental repulsion diminished slightly.
A fine draught.
The other First People also brought chalices before the rest of the party. Seeing Chen Chuan drink, the others followed suit. The vessels held a generous amount.
Some had intended to take merely a polite sip or two, but once they tasted how exquisite it was, they could not resist drinking more, and then more still, until they had drained every drop without realizing it.
The martial artists in the group were unaffected beyond feeling a gentle warmth spread through their bodies. The ordinary folk, however, turned flushed, their heads growing light and giddy even as an energetic euphoria took hold—not unlike a state of drunkenness.
The liquid was packed with so much concentrated nutrition that their bodies simply could not absorb it all at once.
At that moment, Chen Chuan noticed with surprise that several individuals were developing trace amounts of mutated tissue inside them. His interest piqued, he asked, "Elder Gale, this drink must be exceptionally precious, isn't it?"
Elder Gale replied, "It was in the past. This is the honeydew used to nurture Sacred Land Warriors. Every ten years, the tribes would send carefully chosen champions to drink it. If they were favored by the gods, they stood a chance of undergoing a transformation. After being nurtured by the Sacred Land, the most outstanding among them would become Sacred Land Warriors."
With that, he cupped the empty chalice and traced a line near the bottom. "It takes an entire decade of condensation to accumulate just a shallow mouthful."
Chen Chuan glanced at the mark the elder had indicated. If that was the case, no one had tasted this liquid for at least a century or more.
Abundant as it appeared, it was hard to say how much of its original potency had degraded over such an immense span of time. Even so, anything capable of inducing mutated tissue in ordinary people qualified as a strategic asset. Still, it likely had its limitations.
Those chosen for this expedition had already undergone rigorous screening and were predisposed to developing mutated tissue in the first place; the dew merely provided the catalyst. Furthermore, the supply was far too scarce to be used on anything beyond a limited scale.
Though a few members of the team had sprouted mutated tissue, those able to join the expedition were already elites to begin with; moreover, they were already adults, so even with mutated tissue, their future potential was negligible.
After pondering briefly, Chen Chuan said, "Elder Gale, from what I've observed of this entrance, it doesn't appear to screen entrants. Since we were able to enter, could others find their way in as well if they tracked us here?"
The one-eyed elder replied, "Yes, but..." He raised the obsidian spearhead. "Once the key we carry moves far from the threshold, unless someone knows the exact coordinates, plunging into the lake will only deposit them elsewhere. There is no need to worry overly much.
"We can make our way to the Ancestor Altar now. Once we complete the rites and receive the approval of the Ancestor Gods, we will be able to control every gateway of the Throat of the Spirit through the Ancestor Corridor."
He paused and looked down the road ahead. "The Ancestor Gods have not answered us in a very long time, but now that we are here, we can hear their call once more."
Chen Chuan gazed down the avenue. Upon stepping into this realm, he had sensed no transcendent spiritual presence—only the force field produced by the esoteric rituals. What Elder Gale felt was likely just that.
Yet even if the Ancestor Gods of the Isutar people could not be found, it mattered little. Even if intruders managed to follow them inside, he was fully capable of handling them.
Just then, he felt the map he carried warm slightly. Sensing something amiss, he withdrew it from beneath his coat and unfurled it. Whether due to their arrival in this realm or not, the illustrations on the surface had shifted.
The first thing to catch his eye was a long, straight line flanked by sprawling depictions of golden wheat ears, unmistakably depicting their current surroundings.
The avenue on the map was exceptionally long, and written upon the roadway was an inscription in the script of the First People, shaped like a wheeled carriage carrying passengers.
Elder Gale leaned over to look. The moment he recognized the glyph, an idea struck him. He immediately rallied the other First People to follow, and after searching along the roadside terrace for a short while, they made a discovery.
Suspended from the terrace's edge were strange land vehicles, which they hauled up with hearty shouts. The Great Shun personnel moved forward to assist, eventually pulling up twenty-one vehicles in total.
These crafts resembled sailboats equipped with a large sail above and wheels below, each spacious enough to accommodate three to five people.
Elder Gale and the First People hopped aboard in high spirits, waving to the others to take their seats.
Chen Chuan raised an eyebrow at the sight and signaled the expedition to board.
Once everyone had found their footing, Elder Gale raised the obsidian spearhead and pointed it forward. A sudden, powerful gale swept in, filling the sails above and propelling the wheeled craft forward. Like arrows loosed from a bow, they shot down the far end of the grand avenue.
Chapter 1082