One Person: I, the Dragon Tiger Stall King! I Won!

183: There are no gods on the mountain, but there are Taoists at the foot of the mountain.The darkness before dawn is often the deepest, and Zhang Xuanyi was walking step by step toward the edge of the Forbidden Ground on the back mountain of Mount Longhu, which had been sealed by both time and legend.

The night was heavy, like spilled ink, and the mountains were hidden within endless Chaos.

Only in the distance could one faintly see the looming outline of the main peak of Mount Longhu, like an ancient giant god watching over this land in its sleep.

Zhang Xuanyi’s footsteps were soft, each step treading on the thick decaying leaves, making an almost inaudible rustling sound.

He did not light a lamp, yet his eyes shone brightly in the darkness, like two flickering ghost fires, perceiving everything around him.

This Forbidden Ground was once a vital area that the Tianshi Mansion had strictly guarded for generations, because this was where the huge rift, connected to the outside world, had appeared when the Qi tide first arrived and the earth vein Seal loosened.

Countless powerful exotic beasts had once surged out from the rift, and the Tianshi Mansion had paid a heavy price for it.

However, at this moment, when he finally arrived at the depths of the valley where the rift once was, he discovered that the scene before him was vastly different from historical records.

The once hideous and terrifying rift had, who knows when, completely healed.

The earth had gently closed, like a long-dormant wound, now without a trace.

In its place was an endless field of heart-burning stamen flowers.

Those tiny white flowers emitted a faint and gentle light in the extreme darkness, like billions of miniature stars, adorning the entire valley in a dreamlike manner.

They were not dazzling, yet they possessed a warmth that could reach straight to the heart, as if with every breath, one could feel the endless hope within them.

Zhang Xuanyi stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

The air was filled with the fragrance of soil and the unique scent of the heart-burning stamen, carrying an aura of kindness and pure Power Of Will.

Here, there was no longer any sign of the mountain-guarding Disciple.

He knew that as early as several years ago, the upper echelons of the Tianshi Mansion had quietly issued an order: ”No need to guard anymore, Power Of Will balances itself.”

This was exactly the Dao he had hoped for.

He did not continue up the mountain, but chose to stop at the edge of the valley, near a gentle slope close to that sea of heart-burning stamen.

From his worn-out burlap bag, he took out a pebble he had picked up at the foot of the mountain, only half a person’s height, unremarkable in appearance.

He carefully stood it on the ground, then extended his right index finger, his fingernail glowing with a faint cyan light, and with an almost pious demeanor, carved three tiny symbols onto the top of the stone tablet.

The symbols were ancient and obscure, like a long-lost script, or perhaps a most primitive totem.

They were not for proclamation, but for verification.

This was exactly the initial activation code for the myriad laws street vendor system.

Zhang Xuanyi knew that among the billions of living beings in this world, only those who truly understood that ”transaction is offering” could, when catching a glimpse of this stone tablet by chance, feel a connection and thus interpret the true meaning hidden within.

It was not a Spell, nor a curse, but a simple truth about giving and receiving.

Just as he finished carving, a mountain breeze blew by, sweeping up petals and dust.

When the wind ceased, the surface of the wordless stone tablet was quickly covered by a thin layer of moss, lush and green, as if it had stood here since ancient times, blending into everything around it, never having existed, and never having been known by anyone.

That morning, a black off-road vehicle stopped at the intersection of the small town at the foot of Mount Longhu.

The car door opened, and a slender and capable figure stepped out; it was Su Qingzhu, a senior reporter for the Huaxia Metropolis Daily.

She wore a beige trench coat, her long hair tied up, her eyes still as sharp as an eagle’s, but there was a hint of composure and determination between her brows.

In her hand, she held a confidential government proposal document — ”Proposal on Establishing the ’Civilian Fire Starter’ National Honor System”.