The concept of a born saint begins with Strange Tales from Liaozhai.

Even so, his body was still over a thousand feet long, enough to cover half the sky.

now.

Looking up at the enormous, winged, and blue-glowing mysterious serpent in the sky, the Mayan people below stared in disbelief, their pupils contracting sharply.

Shock, fear, and awe—a mix of emotions mingled on their faces.

"Is this... a god?!"

"Feathered Serpent?"

next moment.

Thump, someone immediately knelt down on the ground.

Immediately afterwards, one person after another, as if infected, knelt down.

Some people prostrated themselves, while others knelt on both knees with their hands raised high above their heads, palms facing the sky, as if they wanted to receive the blessings of the gods.

"God... save us..."

"Great being...please have mercy on us..."

"Give us a downpour..."

“Give us food…let the children live…”

Praying to block the sun, like a bustling brothel.

Soon, almost everyone in the city-state knelt on the ground, densely packed like a surging tide, all bowing and praying to the being in the sky.

Hearing the pleas coming from below, Qi Duying raised an eyebrow slightly.

For him, providing food and solving droughts were merely matters of a thought.

Looking at their chapped lips, emaciated bodies, and the almost extinguished hope in their eyes, Su Chen shook his head slightly.

Thinking that it wouldn't affect him much anyway, he had a sudden idea and helped these people a little.

In an instant, the world changed color.

Amidst the astonished gazes of the Maya people in the city-state.

A deafening roar!

A sound as if the sky was being torn apart suddenly appeared, followed by a series of deafening thunderclaps.

The rumbling thunder grew louder as it approached, echoing across the sky and making people's eardrums tremble.

The originally hot and dry sky began to change visibly.

Wisps of dark, gray air gathered from all directions.

In the blink of an eye, a thick blanket of dark clouds spread across the sky.

Dark clouds rolled in, like a black ocean, layer upon layer, quickly obscuring the sunlight and shrouding the entire world in a gloomy haze.

Chapter 133 1937 years

A sudden gust of wind arose, howling through the city and stirring up dust and withered leaves, creating a rustling sound.

The Maya people lay prostrate on the ground, their bodies trembling, yet they couldn't help but look up, gazing at everything in awe.

Before they could react, the rain started, starting with just a few drops, but quickly turning into a torrential downpour!

The rain poured down like a celestial river, falling densely and loudly onto the parched earth.

At this moment, the parched earth frantically devoured the moisture.

The cracks were being filled with rainwater at a visible speed.

The original heat in the air was quickly dissipated, replaced by a long-lost humidity and coolness.

"Rain...it's rain!"

It's really raining!

"God!!!"

Countless Mayans raised their heads, letting the rain wash over their faces, their chapped lips becoming wet, and tears welling up in their eyes.

Some people laughed, cried, or frantically caught rainwater in their hands and put it in their mouths.

"We're saved...we're saved..."

Just as they were weeping with joy, thinking this was the limit of miracles...

Another mutation occurs!

A faint green light suddenly appeared on the earth.

The entire land seemed to be awakened by some force.

On the once barren and cracked ground, wisps of tender green shoots emerged from the soil.

Tender shoots broke through the soil, one, two, ten, a hundred...

The plants are growing at a rate that completely defies common sense!

The grass spread out, and the shrubs quickly took shape.

In just a short while, the once barren land was covered with a thick layer of green.

Towering trees stand tall, their branches and leaves intertwined, blocking out the sun, vines entwined, and vegetation flourishes.

A vibrant rainforest appeared out of nowhere right before their eyes!

"How...how is this possible?!"

"A miracle...a miracle!!!"

The Maya people stared wide-eyed, mouths agape, eyes bulging, some even forgetting to breathe.

Hearing the shouts and cries of alarm from below, Su Chen was too lazy to pay them any more attention. With a swift movement, he flew away into the distance.

In the process, considering that he should help as much as possible, he brought about a large-scale rainfall and also promoted the growth of plants.

Soon, the Maya people in all the city-states saw a huge, long-winged serpent flying across the sky, followed by dark clouds and vegetation.

Surprise, prayer, and a variety of other emotions arose in the hearts of the Maya people.

Soon, after bringing rain and stimulating plant growth throughout the Mayan region, Su Chen flapped its wings and left.

However, although he left, the impact he caused did not disappear.

As time goes by.

The scene of that day has been passed down, mythologized, and exaggerated by generations of Mayans.

The Maya regarded him as the feathered serpent god.

They began to worship Him, to carve His image, to engrave His figure on stone walls, and to enshrine His name on altars.

They even built towering pyramids.

Try to get closer to Him.

Try to make Him descend again!

In the hearts of the Maya, He is the creator god, the embodiment of the sun, and the supreme being who controls wind, rain, abundance, life, civilization, wisdom, and so on.

They even created humankind with their own blood.

On the other side.

Su Chen didn't care what the Maya people thought. After bringing rain and ripening the plants, having experienced the power of Yinglong, he flew back towards Wushan.

After returning to Mount Wu, he began to comprehend the Dao Fruits of the past, present, and future, as well as absorb the essence of the sun and moon.

Time passed slowly like this.

In the blink of an eye, more than a thousand years have passed.

The year was 1937, the year the full-scale war between Japan and China broke out.

Above Wushan Mountain, the clouds and mist still swirl around, seemingly no different from a thousand years ago.

At the summit of the mountain, Su Chen slept peacefully, his enormous body coiled deep within the mountain's belly.

With each breath, the essence of the sun and moon slowly gathers, and starlight, like silk threads, disappears among the scales, appearing ancient and serene.

But the world outside the mountains had already undergone a complete transformation.

Not far at the foot of Wushan Mountain, a once prosperous city has now been reduced to a living hell.

The streets were filled with smoke, and the air was thick with the acrid smell of burning and dust. Many of the once neat houses had collapsed and broken, with broken beams and tiles lying all over the ground.

The firelight flickered, and houses were set ablaze, flames licking at the wooden beams and window frames, making crackling sounds.

The streets were littered with corpses, and people scattered and fled.

Some people fell to the ground, struggling to get up; some held their children, looking around in fear; some knelt on the ground, their hands trembling, kowtowing repeatedly and begging for mercy.

In response, they were met with bursts of unrestrained laughter.

Squads of Japanese officers in tan uniforms, carrying rifles, walked through the streets with relaxed and even slightly mocking expressions.

They pointed and chatted casually, as if the tragic scene before them was a comedy for their amusement, and they were quite satisfied with it.

The entire city was plunged into chaos and despair.

Just then.

At a relatively intact street corner, a group of people slowly came to a stop.

The leader was dressed in a tan high-ranking military uniform, the fabric of which was extremely clean, and a military knife was worn at his waist.

Ryosuke Kimura slightly raised his head, squinted his eyes, and gazed across the city into the distance.

There, the shadow of a mountain loomed in and out of sight, shrouded in thick fog, creating a sense of awe and grandeur.

Here, war raged and dust filled the air, making the misty mountains over there seem somewhat out of place.

He looked around for a moment, then suddenly spoke, asking in broken, accented Mandarin, "What...where is that?"

Nearby, a middle-aged man dressed locally trembled upon hearing the question, immediately plastered a fawning smile on his face, and hurriedly bowed his head, saying, "Hi, sir, that's Kiriyama."

He didn't dare to look up as he spoke, his voice carrying obvious tension and a desire to please.

"Kiyama?" Kimura Ryosuke asked, somewhat surprised.

“Yes, sir.” Zou Zhe B nodded repeatedly. “That mountain has always been shrouded in mist, and it has never dissipated from ancient times to the present, so it is called Mist Mountain.”

He hesitated for a moment, then lowered his voice and carefully added, "Sir, legend has it that gods live there!"

"Gods?"

Upon hearing this, Kimura Ryosuke was taken aback at first, then a slight smile appeared on his lips as he chuckled.

Some of the Japanese officers beside him couldn't help but exchange glances, then let out low snickers.

"Could there be gods in a place like this?"

"The gods of the Chinese?"

"It's just stuff they made up to scare themselves."

They spoke in hushed tones in Japanese, their tone clearly dismissive.

Chapter 134 The Invading Japanese Army

Listening to Zou Zhao's words about what kind of god dwells on Mount Wu, and gazing at the misty, shrouded mountain, Kimura Ryosuke felt a surge of interest.

He said in broken Chinese, “Come on, take me there to have a look.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the eyes of the other Japanese soldiers around him lit up slightly, and their faces showed interest.

"Killing these Chinese people all the time is getting tiresome. It's a good opportunity to take a walk in this mountain and relax a bit..."

"Yes, yes..."

They chimed in with their own opinions, and Zou Zhangxun Yuan waved his harp, losing his composure.

"Sir, you mustn't!"