After meeting with the magistrate of Xiangyang County, Pei Xiu spent some additional time personally inspecting the local government’s reserves of money, grain, weapons, and armor. Only once the accompanying chief secretary verified everything to be in order did he return to the Prefectural Office.

In the garden beside the office, Pei Xiu asked:

«What’s your take on all this?»

The chief secretary cupped his hands and replied:

«Is my lord referring to that immortal?»

Pei Xiu nodded, a trace of doubt in his eyes.

«Immortal… I still can’t tell if he’s truly an immortal, or just an enlightened master.»

But thinking further, he gave a quiet, self-deprecating laugh.

Immortal or master—does it really make a difference to us mere mortals?

The chief secretary pondered for a moment, then offered:

«In this subordinate’s opinion, this earth dragon uprising—you could call it a major issue, but also a minor one. If not you, even the Xiangyang County Magistrate could handle it capably, if he has any competence.»

After all, Xuan Yuan had only mentioned Li Family Village, which implied that the earth tremor and flood would affect only that one village and its several hundred residents.

Such a local disaster could reasonably be managed by a county-level official. And yet, Xuan Yuan had come to Pei Xiu specifically—and even saved his life in the process.

Pei Xiu was a man of sharp insight, someone who could grasp meaning from the subtlest hint.

«You mean, this is a trial set by the immortal for me? If I handle this well, he may bless me with further divine favor?»

The chief secretary smiled and bowed again:

«Congratulations, my lord! Whether he’s an immortal or a cultivated master, once this matter is settled, my lord can have a temple built and a statue erected in his honor, granting him incense and offerings. Since you were the one to initiate it, my lord, you’ll naturally have the merit and connection to secure further blessings.»

Pei Xiu found this reasoning quite sound, though a concern still lingered in his heart.

He didn’t even know the celestial ’s name or title. If a temple were built, what would they even write above the altar? He couldn’t very well make one up on the spot…

After a moment’s thought, he instructed:

«Have people go out and ask around—find out what celestials the people of Xiangzhou worship, especially any deities connected to Mount Zi.»

«Understood!» the chief secretary responded, rising and taking his leave.

That evening, Pei Xiu attended a welcome banquet hosted by the Xiangyang magistrate and various local officials. The next morning, he rose early, had a quick breakfast, and set out for Li Family Village.

Civil officials of the Great Zhou—like those of the Tang Dynasty—tended to have a strong martial streak. Though Pei Xiu had traveled in a carriage during his appointment journey because of his wife and children, this time he went on horseback, sword at his side, blade at his hip.

Back in Chang’an, the divine capital, he had even played polo in the palace with the Emperor himself. While he couldn’t compare to battlefield-hardened generals, he was far from the frail scholar stereotype of the later Song era.

Thanks to their fast pace, the journey that was supposed to take half a day was shortened. When they arrived, Pei Xiu saw Registrar Li, whom he’d dispatched the day before, patrolling the river embankment with a group of locals.

«My lord Prefect, what brings you here!?»

Seeing Pei Xiu arrive, Registrar Li hurried over with his men.

Dismounting, Pei Xiu asked:

«How’s the investigation going?»

Registrar Li quickly replied:

«After arriving yesterday, this subordinate gathered the village head and elders. We’ve been inspecting the entire embankment. Though a small section remains unchecked, we’ve already identified thirteen risk points.»

Truth be told, these «hazards» wouldn’t normally qualify as such. Even during flood season, they wouldn’t cause much trouble. But if the earth dragon really stirred, as Pei Xiu had warned, then those weak points could turn disastrous.

Pei Xiu looked past Registrar Li to the group of men behind him. Judging by their respectful demeanor, these were all villagers.

His gaze shifted toward the river beside the village. His brows furrowed.

«Why is this river flowing so violently?»

An elderly village elder with a cane stepped forward, bowed, and explained:

«Honored Prefect, we also find it strange. In previous years, once winter came, the water would recede below the feet of the River celestial’s statue. It would only rise again around summer to about the statue’s waist. But in recent years, even in winter, the water no longer recedes.»

The river next to Li Family Village had a simple name—Li Family River. On its banks stood a statue of the River Celestial, believed to pacify the waters and also serve as a rough gauge of seasonal water levels.

Something was wrong.

Pei Xiu wasn’t an expert in waterworks, but common sense told him rivers should drop in winter. Yet this one didn’t fall in winter, nor did it rise in summer—it just hovered there, unnaturally constant.

«Of course something’s wrong.»

Back in Mount Zi, Xuan Yuan  , who was currently observing Pei Xiu through a drone, listened as Nüwa explained:

«The global glacial period is coming to an end. The climate is transitioning back into a warm period, but these kinds of large-scale shifts come with chaotic weather patterns. Weird stuff happens all the time—like warm winters, and snow that should stay frozen on mountains melting into rivers and raising water levels.»

«Then summer comes, but the expected rains don’t fall, so instead of rising, water levels stagnate.»

«Based on calculations, it’ll take over four hundred years before the climate stabilizes again.»

Xuan Yuan frowned slightly.

«So we’re looking at centuries of natural disasters?»

«Even after that, it’s not guaranteed,» Nüwa said, eyes flashing with lines of data.
«Once the warm period truly begins, global temperatures will rise further. The polar ice caps will completely melt. You know what counts as a glacial period? As long as there’s still ice at the poles. But once that’s gone… heh, ever seen a tropical rainforest in Antarctica?»

«You mean like the trilobite era, when Antarctica was all forests?» Xuan Yuan asked, recalling,
«Humanity evolved in the glacial period. Our biology is adapted to cooler climates. If we enter a true warm period with this level of tech… they’re in big trouble.»

Nüwa gave him a »you science flunkie» kind of look.

«Trilobites went extinct at the end of the Paleozoic Era. The era you’re thinking of—where both poles had tropical rainforests—that was the Paleocene and Eocene epochs. About a hundred million years later!»

Xuan Yuan opened his mouth, then chose defiance:

«What, the Paleozoic didn’t have warm periods?»

«Sure it did,» Nüwa nodded cheerfully.
«But the continental plates back then weren’t the same. There wasn’t even land at the poles, so how could you have rainforests there?»

Fair point. He wasn’t a geologist or paleontologist—he couldn’t out-argue an AI on this.

Suddenly, Nüwa leaned in with a sly grin.

«Wanna hear something fun? You’re about to become Taiyi!»

«Huh?» Xuan Yuan blinked.»Say what now?»

Nüwa pointed to the projection of Pei Xiu on the screen.

«That guy’s been sending people to investigate what deities the locals worship. So I did some digging too. Turns out, in the area around Mount Zi, Han Chinese and mountain tribes live intermixed. Their beliefs blend together and still carry traces of ancient Chu state religion.»

«The celestials they worship include Taiyi, Great Siming, and Lesser Siming. Some of the migrants from Bashu even worship the celestial Mount Wu.»

«But there’s only one celestial  associated with Mount Zi…»

«And that’s the Eastern Emperor Taiyi.»

She broke into a fit of laughter.

«Congratulations, Master! You’re about to become the Supreme celestial  of the ancient Chu pantheon—creator celestial, sun celestial, the one and only—Donghuang Taiyi!»