At the edge of the Eastern Wasteland, the black clouds were lower than the hibiscus trees on Qishan Mountain. Fifteen-year-old Jiang Yang dragged his injured left leg and ran through the mud. A heart-wrenching hissing sound came from behind, and the six eyes of the three Chinese people glowed green in the mist.
"The Tao rushes, but if you use it, it may not be enough..." He panted and chanted silently, and the newly refined innate energy in the sea of qi circulated rapidly. Five days ago, he was still an apprentice polishing sacrificial vessels in the tribe, but now he has become the target of the Three Shou people.
The swamp suddenly surged, and a red-scaled snake emerged from the swamp. Jiang Yang instinctively rolled to avoid it, and a corner of the animal skin scroll in his arms spread out - it was the "Five Thousand Words of Morality" that the patriarch thrust into him before he died. It is said to be the original copy left by Lao Tzu before he left Hangu Pass in the west.
"The abyss is like the ancestor of all things..." He bit his fingertips and used the blood as a guide to draw a pattern on his palm. The moment the snake pounced, unexpected green light erupted from the young man's palm, and the snake's body exploded.
