Volume One, Chapter 11: The Pond Is Too Small—Let's Switch to a Fishery

The old servant picked up his dustpan, walked to an inconspicuous pile of refuse in the corner of the manor, and tipped it over.

It was completely empty. There was nothing there at all.

It was as if what had just been swept inside was truly nothing more than insignificant dust. Having finished, the old servant returned to the gate and resumed his rhythmic, methodical sweeping.

"Swish... swish..."

The sound was faint, yet it became the only noise in this entire realm.

Inside the courtyard, Ye Qingxian watched this silently. Her heart was as calm as a mirror. From gaining enlightenment through the "trash" her young master casually discarded, to witnessing the Heavenly Dao being driven away by a single command, to now seeing a powerful family branch "swept away" as if they were mere refuse, she had gained a new understanding of the "rules" of this place.

Here, the peace and quiet of the young master stood above all else. Any existence that dared to disturb him, no matter how powerful, would ultimately find its final resting place as the trash at the gate.

Beside her, Ji Ruxue felt her body trembling uncontrollably. It was not fear, but a shudder originating from the deepest depths of her soul. She had once thought that being captured, stripped of her imperial status, and reduced to a mere maid-tutor was the greatest humiliation of her life. But now, compared to the fate of those outside the gate, she realized she was incredibly lucky.

At the very least, she still "existed." At the very least, she could still stand here and breathe the air of this courtyard, which was imbued with supreme Dao essence. At the very least, she still possessed the "qualification" to trim the young master’s nails.

The so-called dignity of an emperor seemed so laughable and insignificant in the face of the ultimate punishment of being "completely erased." A sense of absurd relief rose from her now-numb Dao heart. Perhaps... being a maid-tutor wasn't so bad after all.

Inside the bedroom, Gu Changsheng rolled over. The annoying buzzing of the flies outside had finally stopped; the world was peaceful at last. He thought groggily that Uncle Fu was quite efficient. He pulled the quilt up over his head, preparing to continue the nap that had been interrupted.

Uncle Fu returned to the courtyard silently after disposing of the trouble outside. He glanced at the young master, who had drifted back into slumber, and an "as expected" expression appeared on his face.

The young master appeared to be merely brushing away a group of ants in annoyance. In reality, he was using the most direct and brutal method to establish rules for the two new maids, Ye Qingxian and Ji Ruxue, killing the chicken to scare the monkeys. Every word and action carried profound meaning.

However, dealing with such a trivial matter seemed to have exhausted a sliver of the young master’s energy. Uncle Fu thought to himself that since the young master spent his days in the manor either sleeping or daydreaming, he was perhaps a bit bored. It was time to find some entertainment for him to add a little spice to this dull life of "lying flat."

Thousands of top-tier forms of entertainment from across the heavens and myriad realms flashed through Uncle Fu’s mind.

But he quickly dismissed them one by one. Given the young master’s state of mind—returning to simplicity and truth—those flashy things would only strike him as noisy. He needed something quiet, plain, and in line with the amusements of a "mortal."

Uncle Fu’s gaze fell upon the small pond in the corner of the courtyard. He had an idea.

After his nap, Gu Changsheng finally felt his energy restored. The annoying noises outside had completely vanished, putting him in a good mood. He shuffled in his slippers, wandering lazily into the courtyard.

The sunlight spilled down lazily. Ye Qingxian and Ji Ruxue stood quietly to his left and right, one trimming flower branches, the other wiping the stone table. The overwhelming auras they once possessed were completely retracted, and they looked no different from ordinary maids.

Gu Changsheng was very satisfied with this. He liked quiet.

After strolling around the yard, he eventually stopped by the small pond. The pond was not large, and the water was clear, with a few red koi swimming slowly within. Gu Changsheng squatted down and stared blankly at the water’s surface. After a while, he felt bored.

The pond was too small, and the fish were too dull. He curled his lip and muttered a complaint.

"This pond is too small; you can't even keep the fish lively in here. It’s boring."

The voice was not loud, but it was just enough for Uncle Fu, who was not far away, to hear.

Uncle Fu’s figure paused slightly. A myriad of thoughts surged across his serene face. The young master said the pond was too small. This was definitely not a literal statement. The pond symbolized a realm, a world. The fish symbolized the living beings within that world.

The young master meant that this mortal realm was too small, too barren, and the beings within were too weak to hold even the slightest bit of his interest. Yes, that was it. How could an existence like the Progenitor be content to stay in this shallow puddle forever?

The young master was guiding him. He was bored. He needed a broader, more interesting "pond."

Uncle Fu suddenly felt enlightened, his reverence for the young master deepening. As expected, the young master still cared for the family; it was just that his way of expressing it was so simple and unadorned that ordinary people could hardly grasp it. He was urging him not to let the family slack off just because the young master was sleeping.

Uncle Fu bowed respectfully toward Gu Changsheng’s back.

"This old servant understands."

Gu Changsheng didn't hear a word he said. Having grown tired of watching the fish, he yawned and wandered back to his lounge chair, preparing to doze off again.

That night, under a moonless, windy sky, Uncle Fu went to the pond alone. He didn't use any earth-shattering divine powers; he simply extended a withered finger and lightly traced a circle on the ground beside the pond. Then, he joined his fingers into a sword-shape and made a downward stroke toward the center of the water.

The entire process was silent, without even a single ripple.

However, in the depths of a dimension invisible to all, a cataclysmic change was occurring. A dimensional channel at the base of the Gu manor—a singularity that existed outside of all time and space—was quietly opened. The other end of this channel connected to an infinite, primordial ocean churning with chaotic energy: the Sea of Chaos.

It was the source of all heavens and myriad realms, and the end of all order. Countless taboo existences slept within it; it was a forbidden zone that even Dao Ancestors dared not easily tread.

And now, it had become the... water source for the Gu family’s backyard pond.

The water in the pond was replaced in an instant. It still looked clear, but beneath that clarity lay terrifying Dao laws capable of melting even an Immortal Emperor in an instant. The few ordinary koi that had been swimming leisurely within didn't even have time to make a sound before they were reduced to the most primitive particles the moment they touched the new "water."

Having done all this, Uncle Fu acted as if he had merely watered the garden; he dusted off his hands and vanished from the spot.

The next day, Gu Changsheng woke up again. He felt the weather was nice and thought he might find something to do. Sleeping too much had made his bones stiff. He thought of the small pond from yesterday. Back home in his childhood, he had learned to fish from his grandfather. Although his technique was terrible, it was at least a good way to pass the time.

He decided to act immediately. In the corner of the courtyard wall, he found a green bamboo pole that had been discarded long ago and looked entirely unremarkable. The pole still had a few tender leaves attached, emitting a fresh scent. It was a branch he had casually snapped off the World Tree when he first established the manor, originally intended for firewood, but he had found it too much trouble and left it there.

He then tore a thread from an old, tattered robe. The thread was incredibly supple and looked ordinary, but it had actually been spun from the Laws of Causality by a certain ancestor in the past to mend a broken Heavenly Dao; a leftover piece had simply been tossed aside.

With the rod and line ready, he still needed bait. Gu Changsheng dug around in the damp soil by the pond.