Creator of Infinite Realms

"Plankton has emerged in the ocean… Hive, activate the genetic lock—limit the spores' maximum size!" Xu Zhi quietly gave the command, frowning slightly.

After all, his orchard was far too small for organisms to evolve into large creatures. The memories inherited from the previous matriarch clearly showed that pursuing gigantic body sizes had always been a fundamental error. There was no reason for the Insect Race to grow excessively large; staying diminutive was their correct evolutionary path. The smaller the organism, the greater its potential to unlock transformative energy.

From this moment onward, all species evolving in the sandbox would remain even smaller than ordinary ants—pure insects, as the race had originally been. Even if they evolved into creatures equivalent to dinosaurs in complexity, the largest among them would never surpass the size of a small housecat. An insect the size of a cat might seem absurd in reality, but within the miniature world of a hundred-acre orchard, an ecosystem of ant-sized lifeforms could thrive like a vast, miniature continent.

On the afternoon of the sixth day, after five days of an ocean inhabited solely by single-celled organisms, a dramatic change suddenly occurred: multicellular life erupted across the sea. Xu Zhi watched, captivated, as his artificial ocean turned into a living documentary—new species of plankton constantly emerging, dying off, and giving birth to newer forms within mere seconds.

Before long, the orchard's pond was filled with a spectacular variety of peculiar aquatic plants. Xu Zhi originally intended to merely test the concept by releasing single-celled spores, never expecting such a rapid explosion of life.

"One day here equals ten thousand years—six days amount to sixty thousand years of evolution. In such a brief time, these spores have managed to replicate something akin to Earth's Cambrian explosion, five hundred million years ago. Their vitality is truly astonishing…"

Xu Zhi had limited knowledge about Earth's evolutionary history. Feeling inadequate, he returned quickly to his room, opened his laptop, and frantically began researching geological eras—Cambrian, Silurian, Devonian… Earth would serve as his reference point.

"But the sun is about to set… What worries me now is that my sandbox world might collapse overnight," he thought anxiously, looking out at the artificial ocean and then up at the fading sky.

With cellular division accelerated ten thousand times, each day equaled ten thousand years: five thousand years of daylight, then five thousand years of darkness. As the last glow of twilight vanished, it signified that five thousand years of endless night was beginning. Without sunlight, the aquatic plants—reliant on photosynthesis—would quickly perish.

As expected, when night fell completely, a profound transformation occurred: the lush, thriving sea plants rapidly withered and sank to the ocean floor, leaving behind a scene reminiscent of a lifeless sea beneath a moonlit sky.

Xu Zhi drew a heavy breath. "This marks the first mass extinction of my sandbox's evolutionary epoch—much earlier than I expected."

He had already read about Earth's evolutionary history. Earth had experienced five great mass extinctions throughout billions of years—most famously, the asteroid impact that eradicated dinosaurs 65 million years ago. The earliest extinction on Earth, occurring 400 million years ago at the end of the Ordovician period, saw a sudden drop in global temperatures and sea levels, destroying 85% of marine life.

But unlike Earth's geological catastrophes, his sandbox world faced an immediate crisis: the sudden disappearance of sunlight for five thousand years, triggering this first mass extinction. While Earth was vast enough to survive mass extinctions, harboring countless species and extensive genetic diversity, Xu Zhi's tiny world was much more fragile. Theoretically, such a small gene pool might never yield survivors able to adapt and evolve.

"But these Insect Race spores are incredibly resilient. If they can survive barren planets, why shouldn't they survive here?" Xu Zhi murmured, filled with anticipation and unease.

Silently, he waited beneath the moonlight, observing the lifeless ocean. For a long, nerve-wracking half-hour, nothing happened—until suddenly, a faint glow of blue surfaced amidst the dead plants.

It was a tiny aquatic plant, no bigger than an ant, its leaves shaped delicately like miniature tree leaves. Deprived of sunlight, this tiny survivor had adapted to absorb faint moonlight, stubbornly clinging to life.

Xu Zhi named it "Blue Moon Grass." In mere seconds, this resilient plant rapidly grew, matured, and died repeatedly, like a film playing on fast-forward, swiftly adapting to survive the darkness. Soon, it evolved broad, disc-like leaves resembling miniature lily pads, maximizing moonlight absorption.

Within an hour—equal to thousands of generations—Blue Moon Grass diversified into myriad forms: some with sharp, serrated edges, others slender and elongated, specialized for different water depths. Eventually, it split into two distinct evolutionary branches. One strain perfected its moonlight absorption, while the other became carnivorous, preying upon fellow Blue Moon Grass specimens, using faint luminescence as a lure.

Xu Zhi marveled at this ruthless yet magnificent evolutionary display: "Surviving the first mass extinction, this solitary aquatic plant has single-handedly given rise to a flourishing ecosystem in the darkness."

Inspired, he took out a black notebook and began recording the evolutionary history unfolding in his sandbox:

"Why not document my miniature world's evolutionary epochs, just as Earth's history is recorded? Earth's Cambrian period sparked an explosion of life, eventually leading to dinosaurs, mammals, and humans… But here, evolution began with five thousand years of endless darkness—I'll call this epoch the 'Dark Cambrian'."

With excitement, he penned the opening entry:

"Dark Cambrian—A cataclysm reshaped heaven and earth. Sunlight vanished; moonlight ruled supreme. For five thousand years, an endless night prevailed, causing a devastating mass extinction that wiped out 99% of marine life. Only the resilient Blue Moon Grass survived, becoming the sole progenitor of the ocean's rebirth."

Gazing at the small ocean he had named the Ocean of Life, Xu Zhi wondered: "If Earth's evolution began with marine plants, then advanced toward animals—what sort of creatures might emerge here?" He stayed awake all night, watching intently.

Yet at dawn of the seventh day, another catastrophe occurred: sunrise brought a second mass extinction.

The moment sunlight returned, the once-thriving Blue Moon Grass—adapted to darkness—rapidly withered under the harsh glare, sinking lifelessly to the ocean bottom. It was annihilated instantly, marking the second great extinction barely hours after the first.

Xu Zhi sighed bitterly: "They had just recovered, only to face another devastating blow."

In Earth's long history, billions of species had risen and fallen, gradually unfolding over millions of years. In Xu Zhi's sandbox, however, evolution played out at dizzying speed, compressing countless millennia into mere moments, making each rise and fall feel incredibly vivid and dramatic.

But by the afternoon, amid the dead remains, life once again stubbornly reemerged—a mutated strain of Blue Moon Grass, star-shaped and resilient, survived this second catastrophe. Under the harsh sun, it adapted further, changing colors from blue to a deep, mysterious purple-black. Its beautiful star-shaped leaves opened fully at night, absorbing moonlight, and closed protectively during daytime, like the leaves of a mimosa plant, avoiding direct sunlight.

From devastation came rebirth. This small survivor rapidly proliferated, evolving into numerous variants and filling the basin with vibrant life.

"After five thousand years of searing sunlight and five thousand years of endless darkness, you alone survived both extremes—you're a true hero. From now on, you'll be known as Purple Star Grass."

Turning a fresh page, Xu Zhi carefully recorded the second extinction:

"Guangwu Epoch—Another upheaval of heaven and earth occurred as night gave way to relentless daylight. For five thousand brutal years, sunlight reigned supreme. Blue Moon Grass, ruler of the Dark Cambrian, met near-total annihilation. From its weakest branch, however, emerged the triumphant Purple Star Grass—the hero of this new age."

Looking upon his miniature Ocean of Life, Xu Zhi mused quietly, filled with anticipation for the unknown:

"Life on Earth advanced from plants to animals… What marvelous creatures will my tiny ocean spawn next?"

He watched silently, fully awake, as the seventh day dawned—marking yet another extraordinary chapter in his own epic of evolution.