Douluo Continent: The Twin Sons of the Styx River, Shaking the World and Destroying the Heavens

Chapter 257 Changyang
Although it appears to be the structure of the underworld, after the establishment of the "Six Paths of Reincarnation," it is more like a "civilized world."

The tunnel has taken shape, but it is currently just a "fetus" that continues to grow stronger over time.

Ah Yin's physical body became the embodiment of the authentic rules, and her soul and consciousness were also "regulated" by the "authentic rules".

To become an "extraordinator" who enforces the "underground rules".

A plague broke out in a village in the Heavenly Soul Empire.

The village seemed to be choked by an invisible hand.

First, Old Wang's grandson at the village entrance developed a high fever, his whole body burning like a hot iron. He complained of a headache and wanted water. The next day, he was delirious with fever and his skin broke out in patches of red rashes.

Next up was Aunt Li from next door. One moment she was washing clothes by the river, and the next she was squatting on the ground coughing violently, her phlegm streaked with blood, her face turning blue and purple.

The wooden door to Wang Erzhu's house was ajar. Through the crack, one could see his wife kneeling by the kang (a heated brick bed), repeatedly wiping the child's burning forehead with a cloth while muttering incoherent prayers. The child's face was flushed red, and his breathing was as weak as a candle flickering in the wind. The charcoal brazier under the kang had long since gone out, and the room was as cold as an icebox.

The news spread like wildfire, covering the entire village in just two days.

But more and more people are falling ill.

Peach branches, meant to ward off evil, began to hang under the eaves, but they couldn't block out the groans coming from behind the doors—the sounds were faint and desperate, like mosquitoes struggling after being soaked by rain. A few could be heard during the day, but they would gradually weaken at night, and by the next morning, perhaps someone's door would be locked forever.

The once bustling threshing ground is now empty, with only a few skinny dogs sniffing around and whimpering.

The well at the east end of the village has been half-filled, supposedly because people who drank the well water fell ill very quickly. Nowadays, every household goes to the stream outside the village to fetch water, but the stream water has a strange green tinge, and if you scoop it up and look closely, you can see tiny white foam floating on the surface.

The rice on the ridges wasn't fully ripe yet, but no one cared anymore. The aunties who used to gather in the threshing ground to chat were gone; only a few men wearing cloth headscarves carried simple wooden planks, hurrying towards the mass grave. An indescribable smell filled the air—the bitterness of burnt herbs, the acrid stench of burning mugwort, mixed with a faint stench of decay, making it hard to breathe.

A strange smell permeated the air—the bitterness of burnt herbs mixed with the acrid smell of burning clothes, and a faint, rotten odor. When the sun came out, the village was shrouded in a layer of gray miasma, and even the sunlight seemed weak and listless, falling listlessly on the walls and the ground, unable to penetrate the tightly closed windows.

The nights were even harder to bear. A child's wailing would shatter the silence, only to abruptly cease, leaving only the howling of the wind through the empty alleyways, like countless people sobbing softly.

The village was like a stagnant pool; even the cicadas had stopped chirping. Only the plague was spreading silently, like vines clinging to a withered tree, tightening little by little, making it hard for people to breathe.

The well at the east end of the village has been half-filled, supposedly because people who drank the well water fell ill very quickly. Nowadays, every household goes to the stream outside the village to fetch water, but the stream water has a strange green tinge, and if you scoop it up and look closely, you can see tiny white foam floating on the surface.

The setting sun bathed the village in an eerie orange-red hue. At a time when smoke should be rising from chimneys, only a few houses emitted thin wisps of smoke, like the breath of a dying person. Occasionally, a dog would bark, but it would quickly cease, as if something had forcibly choked it in its throat.

Under the old locust tree at the village entrance, several new, uncarved wooden plaques have been added. The wind whistles through the bare branches, making a "whooshing" sound, like countless people sobbing softly. At this moment, a young girl, seeing this tragic scene, felt a pang of sorrow.

Her figure was slender like a stream, her skin was a light celadon color with a moist glow, and her long hair was a gradient of indigo and aquamarine. Transparent ribbons with water patterns were wrapped around her hair strands. When she raised her hand, tiny water droplets would drip down from the ends of her hair and turn into fleeting water ripples and halos as they landed.

She often wore loose robes that reached her ankles. The fabric was a semi-transparent material similar to silk gauze, with a light blue base color and silver thread embroidered with a pattern of flowing water veins. When she walked, the hem of her robes undulated like flowing water, with a faint shimmering light flowing under the fabric.

She wore a bracelet made of pearls and lapis lazuli on her wrist, which emitted a cool, watery scent when touched.

The most noticeable feature is a water-ripple-like mark on the collarbone.

And He is the "Envoy of Abundance" Chang Yang, and like the imagination of them, this is the second "stage" of "divine revelation".

Changyang, one of the "Envoys" glimpsed by the God of Abundance, was born on a desert planet that was gradually drying up due to the expansion of its star. When it awoke, it used its power to awaken the underground water veins deep within the planet, connecting oases and living beings with flowing water. However, it also witnessed the tragedy of civilizations "killing each other for water" and gained a clear understanding of "abundance"—"Water is the covenant of life; only by giving and taking in moderation can one survive, while excessive drinking will only lead to drowning in desire."

He travels along the "dry track" in the starry sky year after year, guiding water-scarce civilizations to water sources and healing thirsty lives with "protection of clear waters," while also bringing "punishment of the dry marsh" upon those who monopolize water resources in the name of "abundance" and cause the extinction of other species.

Saving a life is something we often say.

"Water remembers every gift it gives, and it also remembers every act of plunder."

His nature is as gentle as still water, yet he is exceptionally resolute when it comes to the issue of "water resource imbalance." Some call him the "messenger of sweet rain," while others fear him as the "precursor of drought." But he always takes it upon himself to "protect the covenant between water and life," and is the most persistent "flow of balance" in the abundant camp.

She walked over.

The old well at the village entrance was a nauseating dark green, with slippery moss hanging from the well rope, and a layer of oily foam floating on the surface of the water when you got close—this was the source of the plague.

Aunt Wang knelt by the well, holding her burning-hot child in her arms. Her crying had long since stopped, and only her shoulders trembled violently. Behind her, on the dirt road, lay several villagers struggling to crawl towards the well, making hoarse panting sounds like fish out of water.

The wind suddenly stopped.

The stench of decay and the bitterness of medicine that had permeated the village were replaced by a refreshing mist. In a daze, everyone looked up and saw Chang Yang. As she raised her hand, the blue crystal bracelet on her wrist emitted a faint light, and a curtain of water, like a thin veil, spread over the entire village.

When the light brushed across the forehead of Wang Erzhu's child, the child's chapped lips moved slightly, and a hint of color appeared on the child's originally flushed cheeks; when the light brushed across the tightly closed wooden door of the tofu shop, the cough coming from the crack in the door softened, as if the hoarseness had been washed away by water.

Those drawing water from the stream suddenly noticed that the green water in their buckets had become clear, and the white foam floating on the surface had turned into tiny droplets, rising as a mist carrying the fragrance of grass and trees. The putrid stench wafting from the direction of the mass grave was swept away by the curtain of water, replaced by the sweet, earthy smell of rain-soaked soil.

Chang Yang's voice was like a mountain stream flowing over a rocky beach, clear and gentle yet carrying an undeniable weight: "Polluted water can be purified; do not be greedy for it."