Crossing a wide river, I arrived at the neighboring land.
The scenery here was indeed beautiful, with spirit fields everywhere and villages scattered around.
Working in the spirit fields were not only eighth-grade demons who hadn't yet transformed but also transformed demons, though most were mortal farmers.
Yes, Wang Wu wasn't seeing things; he wasn't mistaken, those were indeed humans.
Hardy men in their thirties, shirtless, unnaturally strong, with thick chest and back hair, brimming with power, able to plow the land themselves, followed by a few tender, lovely young women.
There were also elderly men and women in their seventies or eighties, leaning on canes, standing in the village entrance basking in the sun, their murky old eyes seeing perhaps memories of the past or the blurred images of their long-lost parents.
