Chapter 590: Xumi Valley

Those cultivators who had been sent back earlier, without farming rights, realized that this meant they would no longer be able to go out to absorb spiritual energy and cultivate.

They secretly hoped that the headquarters would quickly send someone to wipe out this place. A small portion of the eye cultivators without farming rights thought this to themselves.

In addition to this, Yuan Jinsheng also revealed another piece of news to them.

If the quality and quantity of the spiritual grains they harvested each quarter were satisfactory, merchants would be allowed in so they could shop.

These eye cultivators didn’t show much reaction to this news, but they were pleased. They didn’t expect anything of great value from the mortal realm, but it would be nice if some pills were available for purchase.

However, some began to think differently.

With outsiders coming in, wouldn’t that mean they had a chance to make contact with them? Perhaps they could find a way to send messages back to the cultivation world through these merchants…

Several eye cultivators quietly began plotting.

What they didn’t know was that this had long been discussed by the City Lord’s Mansion, and strict precautions would be in place when the time came.

Xiushui City continued to rapidly develop and improve in every way. It shone like a rising star in the mortal realm.

At the center of the mortal realm was a vast, unclaimed region, belonging to no country. Surrounding this area was a sprawling forest filled with poisonous miasma. In the heart of this forest lay a massive valley, shrouded in thick white fog, obscuring everything within.

This should have been a desolate place, but surprisingly, the edges of the valley were dotted with simple straw huts and earthen houses.

These huts encircled the valley, with a single, tall stone structure standing out in the middle.

As the sunlight gradually illuminated the valley, people could be seen moving between the huts, carrying stacks of bamboo slips toward the stone building.

Many others sat quietly in the huts, using carving knives to work meticulously on the documents laid before them.

As the sun fully rose above the horizon, a sharp whistle pierced the air, and a flock of birds appeared from afar.

Upon closer inspection, the birds were of various species—crows, swallows, sparrows, pigeons, geese—all common, everyday birds.

Yet, seeing them flying together in such a large group was an unusual sight.

The flock circled above the valley before gathering at the top of the stone building.

From afar, the top of the building appeared to be a flat roof. However, upon closer inspection, it was clear that it had small compartments, each one holding a bird.

The birds landed neatly in their assigned spots and then bent down, opening their beaks over the small holes beneath them.

Each bird spat out a glowing orb, which fell through the holes and disappeared.

With another sharp whistle, the birds suddenly took flight again, heading toward a nearby hut.

Outside the hut, a man dressed in a long white robe and wearing a hood came out carrying a large basket. He reached into the basket, grabbed a handful of something, and scattered it around.

The birds landed in an orderly manner and eagerly pecked at the ground, feeding.

“Father, Father!”

A young boy, also dressed in white, came running from a distance, calling out to the man feeding the birds.

The man turned at the sound, frowning slightly when he saw that the boy's hood had fallen back during his run. When the boy finally reached him, panting, the man reprimanded him gently, "Adjust your attire."

The boy immediately stood still and quickly pulled his hood back into place. His eyes brightened as he looked at the man and exclaimed, “Father, Xiushui City is so fascinating!”

The man continued feeding the birds, speaking calmly, “That is not an excuse for recording exaggerated statements, Wuguang. If you continue to record history with such exaggeration, you will be expelled from the clan and never allowed to return to Xumi Valley.”

The boy, Wuguang, hung his head in apology. "I understand, Father. I won’t do it again."

Wuguang crouched down and gently stroked one of the nearby crows as it ate, his spirits quickly lifting again. He soon looked up excitedly and asked, “Father, can I join the next mission into the world?”

The man finished scattering the bird feed and glanced down at Wuguang. His tone was still calm as he spoke, “Those who venture into the world must have a clear mind, free of emotions, to observe and record history with clarity.” He shook his head gently. “You are not yet capable of that. You cannot go.”

Wuguang’s enthusiasm deflated instantly. "But I really want to see Xiushui City, to visit Lingxian Sect," he murmured.

The man ignored him, turning to place the empty basket inside the hut.

When he came out again, Wuguang was still crouched on the ground, silently petting the crow beside him. The man said nothing more and walked toward the stone building.

Upon entering the building, one would find the interior far larger than it appeared from the outside. Rows upon rows of bamboo slips filled the space, each one meticulously recorded with information.

In one corner, ten desks were neatly arranged, with nine individuals sitting at them, busily reviewing the contents of the bamboo slips.

The man approached the only unoccupied desk, knelt down, and sat with perfect posture.

To his left was a basket filled with discarded bamboo slips, most of them broken into pieces. On top, however, was an intact scroll of bamboo slips, half unrolled.

Faint words were visible on the scroll, such as "Xiushui City rises to prominence," "Lingxian Sect leads the charge in capturing spies," and "Xiushui City ushers in a new era for the mortal realm."

The man glanced at it briefly, sighed softly, and turned the scroll over in the basket, hiding it from view.

Then, he took out a new scroll of bamboo slips and, with a carving knife in hand, began to carefully record the latest information, crafting his words with precision.

Recently, Wuguang had been officially assigned to the clan’s task of recording history. However, his performance had been subpar. His records were filled with too much subjective emotion, too many personal biases and judgments. As Wuguang’s father, the man couldn’t help but feel a sense of regret.

Their clan, the Xumi Clan, had lived in Xumi Valley for generations, with the sole purpose of recording the history of the world.

For generations, the clan had demanded that its members be impartial and emotionless.

This "emotionlessness" didn’t refer to the absence of personal feelings but rather required that they remain detached from the events they observed, so as not to let personal emotions cloud their judgment while recording history. Personal joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness were of no concern.

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