Chapter 234. Nüwa Mends the Heavens (7) The Stone of Destiny’s Prophecy: Blood Sacrifice to Mend the Heavens.

     Ye Mo’s current style is quite wild. She first tidied up her appearance.  

     She washed her face with spirit spring water, feeling a refreshing coolness. She trimmed away the tangled, messy hair, smoothed out the remaining strands, and tied it up high. Then she changed into a modified beast-skin outfit that blended primitive and traditional Chinese styles, and as for her snake-like dragon tail, she didn’t need to do anything with it

     Only then did she descend the mountain.  

     There was just one day left until the Spring Sacrifice, and the foot of the mountain was already bustling with activity. The entire tribe placed great importance on the Spring Sacrifice, some had emerged from their cultivation caves, while others had paused their less urgent tasks.  

     The Spring Sacrifice was the Yanzi Tribe’s only gathering of the entire year. It didn’t last just a single fixed day but spanned thirty consecutive days. At this time, the calendar still followed the unique Chinese solar term system, with the beginning of spring marking the start of the year and the transition between solar terms signaling the start of each month.  

     The Spring Sacrifice carried the meaning of praying for favorable weather and bountiful harvests. Its main purposes were to reinforce the chieftain’s prestige, strengthen bonds among tribespeople, and enhance the tribe’s unity.  

     Hawk Eye had been thoroughly stifled these past few days. Though he still hid in Ye Mo’s long sleeves, his mouth hadn’t stopped chattering—rambling about everything from scenic views to beasts to people.  

     Ever since the Demons and Monsters dungeon, Hawk Eye had grown increasingly lively.  

     Amidst the greetings of her fellow tribespeople along the way, Ye Mo arrived before a tranquil, clear freshwater lake. At its center lay a small island—this was where the Wūzhù usually resided.

     At this time, the people of the Nine (Jiǔzhōu) Continent had no concept of boats—mainly because the strong had no need for them, while ordinary people rarely had the chance to leave their tribes. Venturing outside was simply too dangerous for them.  

     Ye Mo cast a wind spell on herself. With a flash of cyan light, her entire body lifted into the air, floating toward the opposite shore of the lake.  

     When she reached the center of the lake, eight blue-scaled fish, each the size of a fully grown humpback whale suddenly burst from the calm water.  

     The blue-scaled fish leaped high, one after another, spewing hundreds of shimmering bubbles from their mouths toward Ye Mo in midair.  

     These bubbles appeared harmless, but in reality, they could evaporate the water inside a target’s body and had a corrosive effect on the skin.  

     Ye Mo dodged the eight blue-scaled fish, and as soon as two bubbles hit her tail, she realized their true nature. She swiftly adjusted her strategy, forming hand seals as a cyan tornado shattered or blew away the bubbles one by one.  

     When the blue-scaled fish jumped out again, she first cast an earth spell on the water surface, and then roasted the fish in groups of three or two with fire.  The fragrant, sizzling blue-scaled fish crashed onto the thin earthen platform on the lake, thudding loudly.  

     Hawk Eye quipped, “Add some salt, ginger, and chili, and they’re ready to eat.”

     “……”  

     Ignoring Hawk Eye’s commentary, Ye Mo used vines as a net to haul the fish along as she landed on the island at the lake’s center.

     The Wūzhù stood among a patch of exotic flowers and plants, observing from beginning to end. Seeing Ye Mo approaching, she laughed heartily, “Child, your progress is indeed remarkable. No wonder you’ve managed to win over Dai Qing and the others, making them wholeheartedly support you. They’ve been explaining things to the other tribe members for you every day during this period.”

     Ye Mo truly didn’t know about these matters. She had stayed on Kunlun Mountain for too long, and she also didn’t know how crude Dai Qing and the others’ explanation methods were.

     This was why even the Wūzhù was alerted.

     After landing, Ye Mo performed a junior’s salute, her attitude respectful: “Wūzhù.”

     The Wūzhù smiled with satisfaction, nodding to indicate for Ye Mo to follow her into the dense forest.

     At the center of the island was an open-air altar, consisting of two concentric circles, one larger and one smaller, with a cylindrical column in the middle. It covered an area of 77 square meters, and the altar was made of light-element spirit jade.

     Looking at it, it was flawlessly white.

     Ye Mo knew that spirit jade resources were abundant during the mythical era, but the altar before her still astonished her. It seemed to be a single, seamless piece of spirit jade.

     No wonder the aura of this lake was so potent, instilling a feeling of heartfelt peace, warmth, and joy. This was why she hadn’t noticed the fish lurking menacingly in the lake earlier.

     This was probably a semi-divine artifact formed in the chaotic period.

     The Wūzhù, barefoot, stepped onto the altar. At that moment, Ye Mo saw the altar transform.

     The snow-white spirit jade altar gradually deepened into an indigo blue, like a scaled-down night sky, with large and small golden stars gradually projected onto it.

     Without saying more, the Ziwei (Polaris) and Zhīnǚ(Vega) stars shone brightly. Looking closer, these stars seemed to orbit Ziwei(Polaris) at a very slow pace.

     Ye Mo asked, “This—”

     “Shh, observe carefully. You see, the Ziwei star has indeed undergone some significant changes in recent years, both in its brightness and position. If this continues, it even has the potential to be replaced. I’ve always been very worried about the Yanzi tribe,” the Wūzhù replied, glancing at Ye Mo, who was intently comparing the stars. “That is, until your arrival. The crisis of the Ziwei star has been temporarily averted.”

     “Arrival” not “taking office”?

     Ye Mo and the Wūzhù exchanged a look. She realized the Wūzhù must have already figured something out. Of course—she hadn’t bothered to conceal much since crossing over, and the Wūzhù was no ordinary person. It was only a matter of time before they pieced it together.  

     Especially now, with her preparing to take drastic action, she needed the Wūzhù’s support.  

     “Do stars represent destiny?” Ye Mo couldn’t help but think of the Stone of Destiny.

     “Destiny, that’s a very precise word. Anyone who can influence the trajectory of stars is certainly not simple.”

     Ye Mo thought for a moment, then took the semi-divine Stone of Destiny from her storage space. She had originally intended to hand it to the Wūzhù to see if she could foresee the future apocalypse.

     However, as soon as the Stone of Destiny appeared in her hand, it changed—it suddenly projected an illusion into the air.

     The first scene in the illusion showed a group of people battling amorphous black mist monsters amid thunderous storms and torrential rain. The blood of the dead stained the floodwaters crimson—a tragedy of human suffering.  

     Ye Mo had encountered these monsters before—in the last dungeon, Noah’s Ark.  

     The second scene depicted Nuwa, with the body of a woman and the tail of dragon, soaring high in the sky as she gazed down at the deluge below. Her expression was resolute. Then, in an instant, she exploded, her blood scattering across the heavens.   

     The third scene showed the rains finally ceasing. The survivors began rebuilding in the aftermath, and the first Nuwa sacrificial rites were born.  

    The Stone of Destiny returned to normal, reverting to nothing more than an ordinary, albeit somewhat pretty, rock.  

     Ye Mo:  ‘…So Nuwa mending the heavens was actually a blood sacrifice? The legendary five-colored stones were her own flesh and blood? No wonder myths about Nuwa abruptly ended after that.’

     It was hard to imagine how that vibrant young woman from her memories had walked the path to becoming a goddess who sacrificed herself to save the world. And what of the future of the Yanzi Tribe?  

     The Wūzhù had also witnessed the prophecy of the Stone of Destiny and, misunderstanding, sighed repeatedly: “So that’s how it is… So that’s how it is. Nuwa, to think you had such an extraordinary encounter, no wonder you’ve changed so profoundly.” 

      “Now it seems you, Nuwa, are indeed the most fitting successor to lead our Yanzi Tribe. Do as you will. May your dreams alter not only your own fate but also the fate of the Yanzi Tribe and the destiny of the Nine Provinces Continent itself.” 

     “……”

     Ye Mo wanted to say something, but she couldn’t bring herself to reveal terms like “Survivor’s App” or “System” to the locals. Though the Wūzhù had misunderstood, the essence of her interpretation ultimately aligned with the truth.  

     The Wūzhù continued with a knowing smile, “No wonder you carry such a strong aura of faith.”

     It was precisely this sacred light energy that, after the Wūzhù understood, prevented her from immediately exposing Ye Mo. Instead, she waited for Ye Mo to come to the altar herself to test her further.

     Ye Mo held the Stone of Destiny, deep in thought. Witnessing Nuwa mending the heavens—or Nuwa’s death—had stirred her heart, but it didn’t plunge her into panic or fear. Because she understood one thing with absolute clarity:  

     Nuwa ≠ Ye Mo.  

     Ye Mo temporarily suppressed the questions brought by the Stone of Destiny and focused on listening the Wūzhù’s recount ancient tales about the Yanzi Tribe, and about Zhīnǚ Yanzi, stories stretching back over 30,000 years.  

     The Wūzhù, having lived for more than 9,000 years, knew far more than Nuwa ever had. She hoped these fragments of history might help “Nuwa” overcome the trials ahead.  

     Ye Mo, too, sought enlightenment from these tales. As she listened, her mind raced with comparisons:  

     ‘Where did she and Nuwa differ? What exactly was “mending the heavens”? Could it be replicated artificially? What was the principle behind Nuwa’s sacrifice? And why did spiritual jade seem irreplaceable?’

     …

     The two conversed for a long time, nearly forgetting about the Spring Sacrifice ceremony scheduled to begin that evening—until someone reminded them that the hour of Zi (midnight) was approaching. Reluctantly, they ended their discussion.  

     The shaman quickly summarized the key points about the Spring Sacrifice in rapid-fire speech.  

     The altar needed to be transported to the open field where the ceremony would be held, a location quite far from the lake’s central island.  

    Ye Mo stored the altar in her storage belt and briefly explained the difference between space storage and space abilities, even gifting the shaman a storage ring.  

     The shaman was visibly delighted—proof that storage spaces were universally appealing no matter the era. If not for the time constraint, she would have undoubtedly stuffed the entire island’s contents into the ring.  

     It was clear that, aside from spirit jade and spirit stones, the shaman had a far more refined taste for life than the Weaver Girl.  

     Then, the shaman transformed into a small, snow-white bird and perched on Ye Mo’s shoulder.  

     She pecked Ye Mo twice, her voice as crisp and melodious as birdsong: “Chirp chirp—let’s go!”

     It was almost too adorable.  

     Ye Mo smiled faintly and cast a wind spell, lifting into the air once more.  

     That single spell alone allowed her to experience the shaman’s combat-support talents firsthand. Merely by perching on her shoulder, the shaman had tripled the wind speed while reducing spiritual energy consumption by threefold.  

     It was like gaining a humanoid cheat code; this bird’s perch was truly worth it.

     When Ye Mo and the Wūzhù appeared over the wilderness, the entire tribe had already gathered below.  

     The crowd was even larger than during the last chieftain succession ceremony, as every year, some would earn their place among the elite through trials, securing higher status and cultivation resources.  

     Upon seeing the new chieftain, Ye Mo, flying in with a white bird perched on her shoulder, the crowd erupted into enthusiastic cheers—not the applause of modern society, but rather wild, beast-like howls.  

     Bold, resonant, and brimming with fervor.  

     Dai Qing and the others roared the loudest, followed closely by the Survivors mixed among them. Standing tall and proud, they gazed at their Chief Survivor with a sense of shared pride—a feeling of “Nuwa and I are both from Earth” that set them apart from the native tribespeople.