The last month had been eventful for Fang Ming.
The fourth junglefowl formation had found a buyer in Lang Ya blessed land. The third formation continued selling through treasure yellow heaven. The first and second formations remained in Eastern Sea, enduring the price war.
As for the fifth formation, it had already begun producing, but Inkman City had not replied yet.
For now, its output had no stable buyer.
Strictly speaking, creating another production line before securing another stable market was not the safest choice. Eastern Sea was suppressing him, treasure yellow heaven could not absorb everything, and Lang Ya land spirit had only agreed to buy one formation's output for now.
But Fang Ming still created it.
Production had to keep growing.
Markets could be found. Buyers could be negotiated with. Prices could be endured. But if production stopped expanding, the foundation stopped growing with it.
Still, the fire fox tribulation had left Fang Ming with a clear warning.
His junglefowl formations were profitable, but fragile.
Inside his immortal aperture, the second formation region had already been repaired. The burned land had been cleared. New buildings had been raised. Damaged mortal Gu had been replaced, and the surviving Green Junglefowl had been separated according to maturity again.
From above, the region looked orderly once more.
But Fang Ming remembered the previous chaos clearly.
The formation had protected the Immortal Gu core.
It had not protected the junglefowl.
It had not protected the outer mortal Gu.
It had not protected the buildings.
It had not protected the mature stock waiting to be sold.
If he had been slower, the losses would have been worse. If the calamity had struck two regions at once, the situation would have been uglier. If it had been a beast group with stronger mobility or concealment, the formation might have lost even more before he arrived.
Fang Ming stood in the air above the restored second region, looking down silently.
He could buy defensive formations.
But the junglefowl regions were large. A formation that could cover the whole production area properly would not be cheap. More importantly, Fang Ming was not a formation path Gu Immortal. He could operate inherited food path formations because the system had already been prepared for him. Designing or modifying protective formations from scratch was another matter entirely.
Hiring someone else to design them would cost immortal essence stones.
Building them would cost more.
Maintaining them would cost even more.
At his current stage, spending heavily on defensive formations for every junglefowl region was not worth it.
Fang Ming needed a cheaper layer of protection.
Not perfect protection.
Delay.
Warning.
Disorder control.
Something that could hold back mortal beast groups long enough for him to act.
After thinking for several days, Fang Ming chose a simple method.
People.
Mortals were not valuable in the Gu world.
Remote villages disappeared often. Some were swallowed by beast tides, some were destroyed by demonic path Gu Masters, some were sacrificed in blood path refinement, and some vanished because of conflicts between forces far above them. Unless a village belonged clearly to an important force, few people truly cared.
Fang Ming did not intend to slaughter them.
He intended to move them.
There was a difference.
Not a moral difference that would comfort the weak, but a practical one.
Dead mortals gave one-time value.
Living mortals could reproduce, farm, build, cultivate, manage beasts, and eventually defend territory.
Fang Ming left his immortal aperture.
Purple smoke gathered around him, and his figure disappeared.
When he appeared again, the air was humid and heavy. Mountain forests stretched beneath him, layered in green mist. Insects cried from the trees, and distant rivers cut through the valleys like silver lines.
Southern Border.
Fang Ming did not go near great forces. He did not approach famous mountains or immortal territories. Instead, he took out an old map.
This map had come from Shang Xin Ci back when he had been in Shang City.
It marked caravan routes, villages, dangerous areas, small mortal settlements, Gu Master clans, and affiliated territories. Back then, it had been useful for mortal travel. Now, in Fang Ming's hands, it had another purpose.
He avoided strong Gu Master clans.
He avoided places connected too directly to large forces.
He avoided settlements near immortal influence.
His targets were scattered mortal villages, small hamlets, weak affiliated settlements, and isolated communities near old caravan routes.
These places had people.
But not enough protection.
Fang Ming moved quickly.
A village near a bamboo valley vanished overnight.
A hamlet beside a muddy river disappeared before dawn.
Several mountain settlements that had survived for generations under the shadow of wild beasts were emptied without bloodshed.
Fang Ming did not kill.
He suppressed.
He sealed.
He gathered entire communities and moved them into his immortal aperture.
Old people, young adults, children, men, women, hunters, farmers, craftsmen, herb gatherers, woodcutters, and even village livestock were taken together.
Taking only strong workers would have been easier.
But Fang Ming did not want scattered laborers.
He wanted functioning villages.
Families kept order better than chains. Existing relationships reduced collapse. Children gave future growth. Old people preserved habits, skills, stories, and village authority. Craftsmen could teach. Hunters could adapt to patrols. Farmers could cultivate land.
A society, even a small one, was more useful than a pile of frightened individuals.
By the time Fang Ming stopped, he had gathered around sixty thousand mortals.
He divided them into twelve settlements.
Each settlement had roughly five thousand people.
This was smaller than Gu Yue village at its peak, but large enough to function. The villages were not placed randomly. Fang Ming arranged ten of them around the five existing junglefowl regions, two villages near each formation.
From the sky, the layout became clear.
Resource point.
Two villages.
Roads.
Storage sheds.
Fields.
Outer watch posts.
Another resource point.
Another two villages.
The villages were not close enough to interfere with the food path formations, but they were near enough to respond to danger. If another mortal-level beast group attacked, the villages would be the first layer of resistance.
They could not stop desolate beasts.
That was not their purpose.
They only needed to slow the smaller threats, maintain order, protect the outer buildings, and send signals quickly.
For that, mortals could be useful.
The first few days were chaos.
To the mortals, everything had changed too quickly. One moment, they had been in Southern Border. The next, they were standing beneath an unfamiliar sky, surrounded by vast empty land and strange birds filled with food path dao marks.
Some cried.
Some cursed.
Some knelt and begged.
Some tried to flee.
There was nowhere to flee to.
Fang Ming did not comfort them. He also did not massacre them to establish fear.
He simply showed them the truth.
He stood above the first gathered crowd and released a trace of immortal aura.
The pressure descended like a mountain.
Sixty thousand mortals fell silent.
Fang Ming's voice spread across the settlement.
"You have entered my immortal aperture. From today onward, this is your world."
No one dared to speak.
"You will build villages. You will farm. You will raise livestock. You will assist in managing the food beast regions. Those with cultivation aptitude will be taught to cultivate. Those without aptitude will work."
His gaze swept across them.
"If you perform well, you will receive food, land, protection, primeval stones, Gu worms, and cultivation methods. If your village protects the resource point well, you will receive rewards."
Some people trembled.
Some looked confused.
A few sharper mortals understood faster.
This was not freedom.
But it was also not death.
Fang Ming continued, "If you rebel, you die. If you destroy the formations, you die. If you disturb production deliberately, you die."
His tone did not rise.
That made the words colder.
"But if you work, live, reproduce, and cultivate, your descendants will become Gu Masters. Your villages will grow. In the future, some of you may become clan elders, caravan leaders, city builders, or even more."
A murmur passed through the crowd.
For most mortals, becoming a Gu Master was a dream beyond reach. In Southern Border, aptitude testing was controlled by clans. Mortal villages might live beside Gu Masters for generations without ever receiving a proper cultivation method.
Now this immortal had taken them away from their homes.
But he was also saying that their children could cultivate.
Fear remained.
But within the fear, something else appeared.
Hope.
Fang Ming did not care whether they loved him.
Hope was more useful than despair.
After the settlements were assigned, Fang Ming bought hundreds of mortal Gu called Stone Eggs Gu.
These Gu were not precious at the immortal level, but buying them in such quantity still cost a noticeable sum. Their purpose was simple: create small primeval stone veins.
Fang Ming buried them beneath the new village regions.
The Gu activated slowly, drawing earth qi and forming the beginnings of primeval stone veins. They were not rich veins, and they would need time to grow, but they were enough to support early cultivation.
Each village received a basic allotment.
The strongest young people and children were tested first.
Those with aptitude were separated, recorded, and assigned cultivation methods. Fang Ming did not give them rare inheritances. He gave them basic methods, simple breathing techniques, and instructions on how to refine and use low-rank Gu.
His immortal aperture had already begun producing mortal Gu naturally.
Because of the accelerated time flow and the dao marks inside, Gu worms had appeared across the land over time. Many were strength path Gu. Around the junglefowl regions, food path Gu were increasingly common. There were also scattered Gu from other paths, random and disorganized.
Selling them would have been troublesome.
Sorting them, pricing them, finding buyers, and transporting them would waste time. Many were low rank. Some had strange uses. Some were not worth selling individually.
Now, Fang Ming had a use for them.
He gathered batches of Rank 1 and Rank 2 Gu first.
Strength Gu for patrols.
Food storage Gu for village granaries.
Simple healing Gu.
Detection Gu.
Signal Gu.
A few fire and water path Gu for basic work.
The villages would learn slowly.
Those who could cultivate would become the first guards. Those who could not would farm, build houses, dig roads, repair sheds, raise ordinary animals, gather eggs, move feed, and assist the junglefowl formations.
The food path formations could incubate and raise junglefowl by themselves.
But mortal labor could still help.
They could collect scattered eggs.
Clean feeding zones.
Separate weak chicks.
Repair simple structures.
Move mature stock.
Monitor disease.
Even if this increased output by only one percent, Fang Ming considered it worthwhile.
The labor cost was almost nothing.
More importantly, the villages made the aperture livelier.
Smoke began rising from cooking fires.
Fields were marked.
Wooden houses were built.
Roads connected villages to the formation edges.
Children ran between half-finished huts.
Hunters were organized into patrol teams.
Old village heads were gathered and given new titles under Fang Ming's system.
They had no true power, but they had enough authority to manage daily life.
In the first month inside the aperture, the villages were still unstable.
By the third month, order appeared.
By the sixth month, the first batch of young cultivators had refined their initial Gu.
By the first year inside the aperture, each village had a small group of Rank 1 Gu Masters.
Outside, less than ten days had passed.
This was the advantage of Fang Ming's immortal aperture time flow.
One outside month was more than three years inside.
Ten inside years were only about three outside months.
These mortals would grow quickly.
Their children would grow even faster.
Fang Ming stood above the central region, watching the twelve villages take shape.
This was not kindness.
He had stolen them from their homes.
He had forced them into his world.
But compared to their previous lives, the path before them was wider.
In Southern Border, they might have lived and died as mortals beneath the shadow of clans and beasts.
Here, they could become Gu Masters.
Here, their villages had primeval stone veins.
Here, food path beasts and Gu worms existed around them.
Here, their labor served an immortal, but that immortal also needed them alive, productive, and growing.
Both exploitation and opportunity existed at the same time.
Fang Ming understood this clearly.
He did not need to lie to himself.
The new villages were arranged around the formations like living walls.
If another calamity came, the villagers would suffer first.
But they would also warn him first.
They would delay destruction.
They would protect outer structures.
They would buy time.
That was their first purpose.
Their second purpose was prosperity.
An empty aperture produced resources, but a populated aperture developed a world.
Mortals farming, cultivating, reproducing, building, and dying would gradually increase activity. Human qi would gather. Civilization, even at a small scale, would create order and movement.
In the long run, this would support the aperture's growth.
Perhaps among these sixty thousand mortals, some had good luck.
Perhaps one child born here would become valuable.
Perhaps one village would rise faster than the rest.
Fang Ming did not know.
But he was willing to give probability room to work.
He issued the first reward rules.
Each village would be judged by production, discipline, cultivation progress, and defense performance.
Villages that performed well would receive primeval stones, useful Gu worms, better land, and shares of food beasts.
Food beasts were not only resources for sale. To mortals and low-rank Gu Masters, they were cultivation support. Their meat, eggs, feathers, and dao mark traces could improve growth, strengthen bodies, and create local specialties.
Competition appeared quickly.
Village heads began organizing labor more carefully.
Young Gu Masters began patrolling more seriously.
Farmers cleared land faster.
Craftsmen began repairing and improving sheds near the junglefowl formations.
No one wanted to fall behind.
Fang Ming watched this with calm satisfaction.
Fear had created obedience.
Rewards created movement.
Together, they created order.
The twelve villages were still crude.
Their houses were simple.
Their Gu Masters were weak.
Their fields were newly opened.
Their people still remembered Southern Border.
But the foundation had been planted.
Fang Ming's short-term goal was simple: twelve Gu Yue village-level settlements guarding his resource points.
His long-term ambition was far larger.
One day, these villages would become towns.
Then cities.
Perhaps, if enough time passed, they could become great cities comparable to Shang City.
That was far away.
But Fang Ming had time.
His aperture had speed.
And now, it had people.
He looked toward the five junglefowl regions, then toward the empty lands beyond them.
There was still vast space waiting to be filled.
The first and second formations continued selling in Eastern Sea, though their profit was falling.
The third formation sold through treasure yellow heaven.
The fourth formation supplied Lang Ya blessed land.
The fifth formation had begun producing, but no buyer had yet appeared.
That was a problem.
But it was not the only problem anymore.
Resource points alone were not enough.
Industry needed workers.
Territory needed defenders.
An immortal aperture needed life.
Fang Ming turned and descended toward the central settlement.
The first step had been food path production.
The second was trade.
The third was population.
From this point onward, his aperture was no longer merely a storage space for resources.
It had begun becoming a world.