A land of about two million square kilometers is like a huge cake, exuding an alluring aroma.
Zhang Yang stood under the huge starry sky, looking intoxicated. At the same time, he was struggling with how to make the first cut. After all, this was not a village or a city.
Also, although he certainly wants to develop this fragment of the true world, he is not here to play strategy games.
Because the crisis is never far away, the pressure of survival is always there.
"Comprehensive development is impossible. The story begins here."
Zhang Yang's hand tapped lightly in the void, and water-like ripples spread out, like an ink painting.
At first, it was a stone with sharp edges, and then there was a man carrying a sword on his back. His face could not be seen, but he could vaguely feel the vicissitudes of his body.
A piece of black and white fallen leaves floated down in a circle, and there was a big tree with lush branches on the picture. The colors gradually changed from black and white, including spring green and light yellow, summer emerald green indigo, and some The fiery red color of autumn is mixed with the black and white desolation of winter.
Day after day, year after year.
The sharp-edged stones were gradually covered with moss, and the big trees grew and withered again and again, but the back of the man with the sword never changed.
He was like a statue, watching over something.
Slowly, the earth became green, and the traces that were once riddled with holes disappeared. A well appeared in the picture, ancient, vicissitudes of life, and mysterious.
The picture began to spread around, first a hunter appeared in the corner of the picture, and then a simple thatched hut.
The hostess, the hostess, a small piece of cultivated vegetable land, an old dog, and two children, one large and one small, were chasing the fluttering butterflies.
The number of huts around gradually increased, and a small street began to appear, with more pedestrians coming and going.
Toddlers grow strong, strong men and women grow old, and the old die.
Everything is just the most ordinary picture.
The small village became a prosperous town, and the town became a city.
No one remembers when the first hut was built or when it was demolished.
Just as no one remembers that there is an ancient well in this city, and there is a man with a sword on his back watching beside the well.
"The story begins a long time ago. Once upon a time, there was a powerful monster. It had great magical power and vast supernatural powers. It could fly in the clouds and mist, and travel thousands of miles in a day. It harmed many people. It loved to eat the hearts of children. No one could fight it. Later, there was a wandering swordsman who swore to destroy the monster. They fought from sunrise to sunset, and from sunset to sunrise, for seven hundred miles, and finally seriously injured the monster."
"But the swordsman was dying at this time and was unable to kill the monster, so the swordsman turned him and his sword into an ancient well and sealed the monster. Now, this well is right here. Someone once passed by in the middle of the night. You will even hear strange whining sounds coming from the well.”
A wrinkled, kind-hearted old lady sat in the sun, washing clothes and telling stories to the grandchildren gathered around her.
Not far away, there was a well, and two young women were working together to turn the water puller. At this moment, the sun was shining brightly, and the legendary ghosts were just legends.
At the entrance of a street farther away, Zhang Yang changed into ancient clothes and walked away slowly, like a passerby.
It took him a full 500 units of cosmic law to come up with all the things he saw in front of him.
That's right, it's that simple. No farming can compare to this kind of bombing.
But it's all worth it. He can't take the extremely precious fragments of the real world to farm and build. That would be equivalent to selling sesame cakes in the emperor's palace. Either he is stupid, or the emperor is stupid.
Therefore, it is better to plant a story. He used a core disciple, a city, and 5,000 mortals to plant such a true story that was recognized by the fragments of the true world and could be projected to all the heavens and worlds.
Why couldn't he not do what Nie Xiaoqian, Ning Caichen, Black Mountain Old Demon, and Grandma Mu could do in the past
The conditions he has now are hundreds of times better than those people, not to mention that there are free actors who are truly invested in this story.
This is the most valuable of the one hundred and eight ways to develop true world fragments.
At least that's the case for Zhang Yang.
He left the city like this, as if he had never appeared, but the story had officially begun.
"ah!"
A young woman who was fetching water screamed and squatted down, holding her stomach. Her face was extremely pale, as if she was experiencing terrible pain.
A group of people helped her away and called in a doctor.
Nothing special happened next. The woman recovered at home for a few days.
But for some reason, whenever the woman got close to the ancient well, she would hear some strange whispers, which were extremely terrifying. At first, the woman did not dare to tell others about it, but from that day on, whenever she fell asleep, , she would find herself walking involuntarily in a mist. Deep in the mist, there were strange whispers, and the voice would become clearer and clearer until she was awakened.
The woman became ill again. Snake scales began to grow on her arms. She no longer even liked cooked food and began to long for blood.
She did not dare to describe these abnormalities to anyone, but the situation in her dream became more and more serious. She had already seen a vague outline of a huge, snake-like statue—
That night, the fourteen courtyards around the ancient well were filled with blood. Hundreds of corpses had their throats bitten off and the blood sucked out.
"Are you taking the bait, or are you testing?"
Zhang Yang paid attention to the whole process, just like a chess player playing chess.
A chess piece was played again. A disciple of the fifth generation of Tianjian Sect was ordered by his master to go down the mountain for training. When he passed here, he found that the evil spirit was soaring. He followed the clues to find the mutated woman and locked the ancient well, but His strength was unable to resist the mutated woman. At the critical moment of life and death, a thunderbolt appeared and killed the mutated woman, but it turned out to be a man with a vicissitudes of life on his face and a sense of endless loneliness.
This is of course the one who should be robbed, Wu Jun.
Zhang Yang used his identity as the master of the fragments of the true world. He couldn't move without moving time, but it couldn't be easier to inject some information about the passage of time into a city, thousands of mortals, and his eldest disciple.
Even the snake of plague will be deceived by this.
It doesn't matter if you don't fall for it. Zhang Yang's purpose is very clear. Come on and we'll act.
If you don't come, I will make up a story and continue acting.
Once upon a time Nie Xiaoqian, Ning Caichen and other immortal cultivators were able to make the world of Liaozhai last for so long with the stories of A Chinese Ghost Story.
There is no reason to say that Zhang Yang has taken advantage of the right time, place and people today, but he still can't make a lot of money