[Primordial Continent · By the Wei River · First Night] Nuwa attained sainthood and departed on a cloud.
Leaving behind was the lingering golden light of her merit, and a group of newborns shivering in this vast天地 (heaven and earth).
Night came mercilessly.
The night in the primordial world was different from later generations. It was like a thick, cold, black animal hide, pressing down heavily, even the wind carrying the panting of ancient beasts. The temperature plummeted; the valley, which had just been warm as spring, was instantly covered with a thin layer of white frost.
"Woo...woo…" Thousands of newborn humans, though possessing adult bodies, had minds like infants. They huddled together naked, instinctively seeking warmth from their companions. Fear spread like a plague; their once pure eyes were now filled with terror of the darkness.
Shen Qingqiu stood on a towering rock, the night wind ruffling her long purple dress.
Looking down at the fragile lives called "Ancestors," a heaviness she had never felt before welled up in her heart.
"Seventeen," she called softly.
"Here." Seventeen emerged from the darkness. His jet-black silk robe blended almost seamlessly into the night, only his purple eyes and the faint starlight on his right arm serving as the sole beacon in the darkness.
"They're cold," Shen Qingqiu said, pointing below.
"And they're afraid of the dark." Seventeen looked down.
In his **[Thermal Imaging Vision]**, the body temperature of these humans was rapidly dropping. Without intervention, at least a third of them would die of hypothermia tonight.
"I'll go chop down some trees." Seventeen turned, without using any high-tech heaters or casting any magical barriers.
Because Shen Qingqiu had said: Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.
What they needed to do was not to raise pets, but… to enlighten the world.
...
[Civilization Reconstruction - Step Three: Flint]
At the foot of Mount Buzhou, countless ancient, withered trees lay scattered.
Seventeen's figure moved like a ghost through the forest, his once invincible **[Slaying Evil]** blade now transformed into the most efficient logging axe.
In a short while, a small mountain of firewood had been piled up on the riverbank.
Seventeen crouched down.
He picked up a dry hardwood and spun it rapidly on a piece of rotten wood.
He wasn't using magic, but purely relying on physical friction to start a fire.
Sizzle— His hand speed was so fast that the air itself seemed to explode.
A wisp of green smoke rose.
Then, a tiny orange-red spark, like a golden butterfly just emerging from its cocoon, trembled and shone brightly amidst the wood shavings.
"What...is that?" In the crowd, the little girl who was born first and had grabbed Shen Qingqiu's skirt (called 'Chu' by Shen Qingqiu) stared wide-eyed.
Seventeen carefully cradled the tiny spark, as if holding a star.
He placed it in the pile of firewood and gently blew on it.
Whoosh— The wind fanned the flames.
Boom!
A vibrant orange flame instantly erupted, dispelling the darkness and cold within a hundred meters.
"Wow!" The humans cried out and retreated, fearing the red tongue that might bite.
But soon, the overwhelming warmth overcame their fear.
They tentatively approached, stretching out their frozen hands to warm them in the leaping light.
Seventeen stood by the campfire, the firelight illuminating his cold profile, giving him a soft golden edge.
He was no longer the cold demon god.
He was the Firebringer.
Shen Qingqiu walked over and stood beside him.
She looked at the humans gathered around the fire, their faces beaming with foolish smiles, and a slight smile also appeared on her lips.
"This is the first lesson of civilization," Shen Qingqiu said softly.
"Having learned to use fire, we… drew a clear line between ourselves and wild beasts."
…[Civilization Reconstruction · Step Four: Writing] The firelight flickered, and people's hearts gradually calmed.
But they could still only utter meaningless "ah ah" sounds, unable to communicate, unable to pass on their knowledge.
Shen Qingqiu found a branch.
She swept a flat area on the damp sand of the riverbank.
"Chu, come here."
Shen Qingqiu beckoned.
The little girl named "Chu" bravely walked over. She wore the animal skin that Seventeen had just wrapped her in, her eyes bright and curious.
Shen Qingqiu gripped the branch and forcefully drew a stroke on the ground.
丿
"This is… support."
Then, she drew a stroke, firmly supporting the first stroke.
乀
"This is… support." The two strokes combined.
Human.
"This word is pronounced…Ren." Shen Qingqiu's voice was soft yet firm, echoing in the night.
She pointed to Chu, then to everyone around her.
"You are human."
"Not mud, not wild beasts, but upright beings, supporting one another…humans."
"Human…" Chu opened her mouth, clumsily imitating the pronunciation.
Her tongue was still a little stiff, but a light suddenly shone in her eyes.
It was the budding of wisdom.
"Human! Human! Human!" The people around her began to imitate her.
This simple syllable, like some kind of incantation, granted them the power of self-awareness.
Shen Qingqiu didn't stop.
She pointed to the flickering flame.
Wrote—fire.
She pointed to the starry sky above.
Wrote—sky.
She pointed to the earth beneath her feet.
Wrote—earth.
Like a patient mother, she opened the first lesson in human history on this desolate riverbank.
Without paper or pen, she used the earth as her scroll and withered branches as her pen.
Each stroke, each line, wrote not just words, but... the universe itself.
Seventeen stood quietly behind her.
He watched the woman in the red dress teaching by the firelight.
At this moment, she possessed no trace of murderous intent, only an almost sacred maternal radiance.
He suddenly felt...
Compared to shattering stars and tearing apart gods and demons,
protecting this scene... seemed more meaningful.
...At midnight, crisis descended.
Because the newborn human blood was too pure and concentrated, its alluring fragrance drifted far on the night wind.
Deep in the dark forest, countless pairs of green eyes lit up.
A howl— A wolf's howl shattered the sound of reading.
A pack of primordial wolves, the size of oxen, with bared fangs and drooling, surrounded them from all sides.
They feared the campfire, but driven by hunger, greed overcame fear.
"Ah!!" Chaos erupted.
The humans, who had just learned the word "human," were once again dominated by primal fear, screaming and trying to escape.
"Don't move! Stay inside the fire circle!" Shen Qingqiu threw down the branch and stood up instantly.
The gentleness in her golden eyes vanished, replaced by a chilling light.
But before she could act,
a black figure had already crossed the fire circle.
It was Seventeen.
He didn't draw his sword.
Using a sword against these beasts that hadn't yet become demons would be an insult to them.
He simply stood at the boundary between firelight and darkness.
His right arm, adorned with stars, slowly rose, its five fingers spread.
The dark red demonic patterns on it glowed in the night, like flowing lava.
[Bio-Pressure Released.] There was no earth-shattering explosion.
Only an invisible killing intent, imbued with the aura of a superior predator, swept through the jungle from his center.
It was the murderous aura he had accumulated from slaughtering the Hydra in the Sea of Blood and severing the Golden Crow's chariot in Qingqiu…
The lead wolf, charging at the forefront, froze abruptly.
It stared at the not-so-tall two-legged beast before it.
In its perception, it wasn't a human.
It was an… ancient ferocious beast draped in human skin.
"Get lost." Seventeen's thin lips parted slightly.
Woo… The lead wolf tucked its tail between its legs, letting out a whimper like a puppy.
It didn't even dare to meet its gaze, immediately turning tail and leading the pack in a frantic escape.
As ferocious as it had come, so pathetic in its retreat.
The crisis was over.
Seventeen turned around.
The killing intent on his body instantly vanished, and he reverted to the taciturn night watchman. He looked at the still-shaken humans, offering neither praise nor reprimand.
He simply walked to the campfire and added some firewood.
Making the flames burn brighter.
"Sleep."
His voice was low, yet it traveled through the earth, soothing everyone's heartbeats.
"Even if the sky falls..."
He pointed to his broad back.
"Someone tall will hold it up."
...Dawn was breaking.
The humans finally fell into a deep sleep by the campfire.
Chu curled up like a kitten beside Shen Qingqiu's skirt.
Shen Qingqiu leaned on Seventeen's shoulder, watching the first light of dawn break in the east.
The outline of Buzhou Mountain appeared and disappeared in the morning light.
"Seventeen."
"Mm."
"We have a home now."
Shen Qingqiu said softly.
No longer a drifting spaceship, no longer Qingqiu where they were staying.
This simple riverbank, these children who hadn't yet grown up, was their home.
"Mmm." Seventeen grasped her hand, their fingers intertwined.
"As long as you're here, anywhere is home."
He looked at the sleeping humans, a tenderness he'd never shown before flickering in his eyes.
As a weapon, he had no past.
But as a guardian, he seemed… to have a future.
"Qingqiu."
"What is it?"
"That character…" Seventeen stretched out his finger, tracing a stroke and a dot in the air.
"Human."
"It's two strokes."
"You are the stroke."
"I am the dot."
"Only by leaning on each other…"
He turned his head and kissed her temple.
"Only then can we stand firm."
Shen Qingqiu smiled.
The morning light shone on her face, and also on the land behind them where civilization had just begun.
The primordial fire ignited, the strokes joined together.
In this chaotic, primordial world where gods and demons danced.
They were not alone.
Because they were, with their own hands… planting a future.