Ancient trees tower in the dense forest, paths twisting, home to colossal beasts. Fuxi leads, dodging giants, and they bag an ancient deer and odd wolf-sheep hybrids—ferocious, unlike future tigers.
The tribe's strength shines—Fuxi and his kin down prey with single blows. Their methods, though, are brute force. Zhou Yan eyes Fuxi. "There's smarter ways to hunt—faster, cleaner."
"How so?" Fuxi leans in.
"Traps, ambushes, encirclements," Zhou Yan explains. In this era, such tactics are revolutionary.
Fuxi's eyes gleam. "The tribe calls me wise, but you're sharper. Back home, I'll push for priest."
"No thanks," Zhou Yan deflects, smiling. Priesthood's not his trial's aim—he'll leave once done.
At Fuxi's urging, he details the traps. Fuxi tests them, snaring a leopard without lifting a spear. Clansmen cheer, slaying it unharmed. Leopards dwarf deer in ferocity—yet they triumphed. Zhou Yan nods, impressed.
The tribe warms to him, grins replacing doubts. Laden with game, they return—no injuries, a first. Past hunts claimed lives; Zhou Yan's common-sense ploys saved them. Admiration spreads—he's no burden now.
He knows it's just basic logic, but here, knowledge is power. Culture's roots matter.
He shifts closer to Fuxi's circle. Nuwa's sister, Nvdi, joins them—another snake-bodied beauty, rivaling her kin. Curious, she probes his wit, matching Fuxi's. "What's your name?" Zhou Yan asks.
"Nvdi, Yao clan," she says, voice bright. "Nuwa and Fuxi saved me after a monster razed my people."
One night, the tribe dances around flames. Zhou Yan assumes festivity, but Nvdi explains it honors fire—light's gift, raw meat's end. A milestone worth marking.
Days pass. Clueless on the trial's win, Zhou Yan guides Fuxi, sharing insights. Fuxi's questions—cosmic, deep—stump him often. He offers what he knows: stars, basics. Limited, but enough to spark Fuxi's mind.
"Talent," Zhou Yan sighs. Fuxi's destined for greatness—his nudges just speed it up.
A river runs near. Tribes hug water, yet none fish. "Why not nets?" Zhou Yan suggests. He shows Fuxi rope-weaving, crafting nets for fish and birds, even a bamboo raft.
By the river, they debate existence. Fuxi absorbs Zhou Yan's hints, outpacing him. Zhou Yan learns too—Fuxi's mind cuts deep.
A tortoise ambles from the water, eyeing Fuxi, then suns itself. "Odd beast," Fuxi muses, lifting it.
"That shell's unique," Zhou Yan notes.
Fuxi freezes, staring at the patterns. Epiphany grips him. Days vanish—he meditates, tortoise in hand. Zhou Yan stays, fed by Nvdi.
Yin and yang swirl, forming a Taiji array. Cosmic hums fill the air. Zhou Yan shuts his eyes—chaos surrounds, like his lord heart's birth. A glow ahead: his colored lord space, wrapped in yin-yang, pulsing Taiji.
Gossip forms; light flares. An ancient scroll drops, radiant. Zhou Yan grabs it—blank.
"Empty?" he gasps. "What's this mean?"