Immortality: Starting with a grave, I'm invincible when burying corpses.

March 25th, the ninth year of Ningtai.

The fifth day before the end of the betting game.

The heavy rain lasted all night, covering areas from Changjiang in the south to the mountains in the east, including Pingluo County and more than a dozen surrounding counties.

In some low-lying areas, the floodwaters on the streets were even waist-deep, and apart from a few laborers struggling to make a living, few people were out and about.

Such heavy rain can be called a rain disaster. If it weren't for the necessity of working like a slave, no one would want to go out and struggle in this kind of weather.

Oh no!

To be more precise, the oxen are resting in the shed at this time, not to mention the more valuable horses.

Three miles outside Pingluo County, on the banks of the Changjiang River.

The rain had stopped, and the wind wasn't too strong, but it still stirred up waves in the middle of the river.

The river current was swift, and waves, swirling with white foam, crashed against the riverbanks on both sides, making a splashing sound.

It's called a river embankment, but it's actually just a long mound of earth, and in some places it's already mostly collapsed.

The river water, swept up by the sand, rushed up the collapsed area, swirling up the soil from the mound and receding back onto the river surface with the yellowish-brown water.

On the riverbank, Mu Ling'er stood still, gazing at the rushing river, her expression somewhat unpleasant.

"The water level of the Changjiang River is too high and the current is too fast. If there are two more rainstorms like last night, I'm afraid there will be a major flood. Such a situation is really rare during the spring plowing season."

With a furrowed brow, Mu Ling'er looked at the town at the end of her vision, her mood growing increasingly irritable.

Based on what Mu An said, she had deduced the general content of the bet.

"If this gamble on the human heart will be decided in five days, then in the current situation, the most likely way to confront the human heart is through a flood."

only……

Using floods to test people's hearts, the ultimate cost, and the final outcome are all still unknown.

Several thousand people? Tens of thousands? Or hundreds of thousands?

If the floodwaters flowed downstream, the disaster would not be limited to just one or two villages.

Given the size of Changjiang, no one along the river can escape.

Despite having a guess in mind, Mu Ling'er's expression was not very pleasant.

Floods are natural disasters, and their occurrence is understandable.

There's nothing wrong with not trying to stop things you can't see, but if it's happening right in front of you, you should pretend you don't see it...

Right now, a group of literary immortals on land are using this as a wager, with the lives of countless people as the stakes, which is really hard for Mu Ling'er to accept.

Any one of these people could have easily stopped the flood, but they chose to ignore it for the sake of gamble. Is that really the right thing to do?

In Mu Ling'er's view, the so-called literary principles and the literary mind should be for the benefit of the people and the nation.

Since we knew there would be flooding, we should have tried to stop it, instead of ignoring everything because of a bet.

But she also knew that even if the entire Pingluo County were to perish, and tens or hundreds of thousands of people were to die, it would be insignificant to the common people and the nation.

In the eyes of the terrestrial immortals of Wendao, and in the eyes of all the important figures here, the lives of these people are not as important as the future of Wendao.

Even Zhuangzi made the same choice.

How terrible! How awful!

Mu Ling'er let out a long sigh.

She vaguely realized that she couldn't even be sure what Mu An's attitude would be.

When the betting was discussed, Mu An didn't seem to have any complaints; he simply wanted to join in the fun and see how it went.

Clearly, her Da'an wasn't like this before. In Mu Ling'er's memory, Mu An had always been the best person.

However... compared to how Mu Ling'er remembered him, Mu An now looks more and more like a god, and more and more like other terrestrial deities.

Mu Ling'er was certain that if she pleaded for mercy, Mu An would definitely help her, but Mu An might not really care about the ordinary people who lost their lives because of it.

Even if he intervened to stop the flood and forcibly interrupted the bet, it was only to prevent her from being upset.

Lost in thought about all sorts of random things, Mu Ling'er simply sat down.

She didn't know whether Mu An's actions were good or bad, nor did she know where the so-called cultivation would ultimately lead.

She also didn't know whether, for a truly great cultivator, emotions were merely a burden or an invaluable treasure.

All she knew was that, in her current opinion, if one day in the future Mu An forgot all of them and forgot what he used to be like, it would be a terrible thing.

After all, no matter how powerful Mu An was back then, he was still just a deity bearing the name Mu An.

Memories have faded, emotions have faded, everything from the past has faded; only the Great Dao and power remain...

That was a god high above, not the person who grew up with her.

Mu Ling'er didn't want things to turn out this way; she wanted to do her best to change things.

Only in this matter, even though Mu Ling'er didn't know whether her thoughts were right or wrong, she wanted to be a little more willful.

If terrestrial immortals truly possess obsessions, then Mu Ling'er will ensure that Mu An's obsession persists for even longer, repeating itself again and again even after Mu An leaves this world.

She plans to spend decades crafting a gift that will sustain her emotional connection with Mu'an.

As Mu Ling'er was thinking, with a "bang," her body suddenly plummeted and landed heavily on the ground.

No sooner had Mu Ling'er sat down on the embankment than her bottom made intimate contact with the ground.

Sitting on the mud, Mu Ling'er had a blank face as she looked at the mound of earth that she had collapsed. Her mood was terrible.

What a piece of junk! Even a shoddy construction project is better than this garbage!

Ugh--

Looking at her clothes stained with yellow mud, Mu Ling'er sighed again. As soon as she finished sighing, she kicked the pile of dirt next to her hard, knocking down another pile of dirt.

"This junk! It's completely useless! Just flush it all away!"

……

March 26th, the ninth year of Ningtai.

The fourth day before the end of the betting game.

A torrential rain caused considerable damage to the thatched huts in "Sin Village." Most of the houses were damaged to varying degrees, and some even collapsed entirely during the previous night's downpour.

Those who had lost their homes either found a place to sleep on the floor or sought lodging in those wooden houses.

The persistently sunny weather made the villagers give up on the idea of ​​repairing their houses, since no one could say for sure whether another heavy rain would wash away their newly repaired houses again.

Inside a wooden house, Qin Xiucai was bent over, writing down information about the villagers without stopping.

On a nearby stool, Mu Ling'er was engrossed in flipping through the book "The Book of Great Harmony" in her hands.