Chapter 66
Just as Xia Yi was about to make a break for it, a large, warm robe draped over his shoulders, wrapping him up tightly.
Turning around, he saw Gu Wenzhu standing there, face dark with displeasure, wearing only a white undergarment.
“Uh, I—” Xia Yi began to explain, but before he could say another word, the world spun again, and Gu Wenzhu had already scooped him up into his arms.
Well, Xia Yi had no choice but to close his mouth.
As they headed toward the Bamboo Courtyard, Xia Yi curled up in Gu Wenzhu’s arms, only his two pale legs, not covered by the robe, swinging rhythmically in the air with each step.
“Wenzhu, how did you manage to come with me this time?” Xia Yi asked, poking at one of the buttons on Gu Wenzhu’s chest with two fingers.
“I saw you suddenly rush out without saying a word, just reaching out your hand, with a spinning vortex appearing beside you. I figured out what was happening.”
As Gu Wenzhu spoke, he looked down at Xia Yi. When he saw that Xia Yi’s arm had slipped out from under the robe, revealing smooth skin, he quickly grabbed the misbehaving hand and tucked it back inside.
“So you followed me into the vortex?”
“Mm.” Gu Wenzhu’s low voice resonated from his chest, causing Xia Yi, who was pressed against it, to feel a slight tremble in his ears.
On the way, they passed a few disciples from the Qishan Sect. The moment they saw Gu Wenzhu, they all had a look of surprise, followed by a complex and unreadable expression.
Xia Yi didn’t need to ask to know why. After they had returned to the farming world, the entire sect had learned that Gu Wenzhu was the son of Xie Shang, the Demon Realm’s young lord, Ze Yuan.
Back then, only a few disciples had been part of the ambush on Yulu Mountain, so most of the sect had only heard of Ze Yuan and had never seen him in person.
When they found out Gu Wenzhu was Ze Yuan, there hadn’t been much fear, only a lot of curiosity.
Not to mention that Cang Yi Immortal had later revealed that he was also Gu Wenzhu’s father.
Normally, the disciples would gossip for nights about how their senior brother had glanced twice at Fairy Yunxia, analyzing the meaning of his gaze down to the tiniest flick of his finger.
But after hearing about Cang Yi, the sect’s disciples had been left so stunned that they hadn’t dared discuss it.
It was too overwhelming to process.
They needed at least six months to digest it internally.
When they finally arrived back at the Bamboo Courtyard, it was already quite late. The two of them took a bath together before settling down for the night.
Xia Yi buried himself deep into Gu Wenzhu’s solid chest, feeling his broad hand gently stroking his belly. He yawned as a wave of drowsiness washed over him.
Half-asleep, he heard Gu Wenzhu sigh softly, “I wonder what Fathers will think when they realize we’re gone.”
“Don’t worry, they know we’ve traveled back,” Xia Yi mumbled before drifting into sleep.
—
“Junior Brother Xia, Junior Brother Xia.” Xia Yi was woken up by someone calling his name.
He groggily turned over, burying himself deeper into the blanket, but the persistent voice continued to echo in the courtyard.
It sounded like Qingxiu.
“Knock, knock, knock.” Hearing no response, Qingxiu started knocking on the door.
Xia Yi had no choice but to open his eyes and respond, “Just a moment.”
He struggled to turn over, using both hands to push his heavy body off the bed. He grabbed the robe draped over the chair and put it on, his face expressionless as he sat at the bedside.
The sky was already bright, and the spot next to him was empty; Gu Wenzhu must have gotten up some time ago.
“What is it?” Xia Yi’s voice still held a bit of irritation from being woken up. “Come in.”
Hearing Xia Yi’s permission, Qingxiu pushed open the door. “Junior Brother Xia, I heard you arrived. Elder Tianji sent me to fetch you.”
Liu Sixian? What does he want with me?
“Where does Elder Tianji want to take me?” Xia Yi asked while pushing himself off the bed, supporting his waist.
Then he noticed Qingxiu’s gaze land on his large, round belly. Qingxiu’s eyes widened slowly, his mouth forming an “O.”
“179, do you think they’d believe me if I said this was a beer belly? Oh wait, there’s no beer here. Maybe I could say it’s middle-aged weight gain?”
“Haha. You’d be better off saying you’re terminally ill with ascites.”
“Junior Brother Xia, is this… middle-aged weight gain? Or, or… some kind of illness?”
See? My Senior Brother Qingxiu is so thoughtful, handing me an explanation right on a silver platter.
“It’s neither. I’m pregnant,” Xia Yi said casually, taking a sip of the tea on the table.
The tea was still warm, clearly poured by Gu Wenzhu before he left, waiting for Xia Yi to drink it when he woke up.
Qingxiu burst into laughter. “Junior Brother Xia, you’re really funny.”
But as he laughed, he realized Xia Yi was staring at him, dead serious. His laughter slowly froze on his face.
“I’m telling the truth. I’m pregnant,” Xia Yi reaffirmed.
After months of carrying his belly, Xia Yi had gone from initially resisting and feeling embarrassed to nonchalantly announcing it to the world.
He even felt a slight sense of pride.
Qingxiu, on the other hand, stood there in shock, his expression undergoing a dramatic series of changes as his worldview seemed to crumble.
“Are you really not Junior Sister Xia?” he asked softly after a while.
“Nope,” Xia Yi replied in the roughest voice he could muster. “Do you know where Wenzhu went?”
“I ran into him on my way here. He went to the kitchen to grab a chicken for you, said he was going to make soup.”
“Hmm.” Xia Yi nodded. “So what does Elder Tianji need me for?”
“Elder Tianji has planted a new batch of Muge plants and wants you to check if the method is correct.” Qingxiu, still somewhat dazed from the earlier shock, finally remembered the reason for his visit.
Xia Yi thought for a moment. Going to check on the plants wouldn’t take long, and by the time he returned, Gu Wenzhu’s soup would probably be ready.
“Alright, let’s go take a look,” Xia Yi said, heading outside.
Even as they left the courtyard, Qingxiu still seemed dazed, his gaze occasionally drifting to Xia Yi’s belly. When Xia Yi caught him looking, Qingxiu quickly averted his eyes.
Heh, cultivators really are so sheltered, easily shocked by anything.
It wasn’t until Qingxiu summoned his magical artifact that Xia Yi remembered the Qilin hadn’t followed him this time. How am I supposed to get to the herb fields?
Looking at Qingxiu’s artifact, Xia Yi felt relieved. It was a large, smooth folding fan, wide and flat, without any suspicious spoon-like spirits attached to it.
I’m an expecting father now, no more bouncing around at high altitudes.
They boarded the fan, and Qingxiu cautiously flew it towards the mountain gate.
It must have been Qingxiu’s first time transporting a pregnant person, as he flew very low and slow, making the widest possible turns.
They were gliding towards the mountain gate at a snail’s pace, around 20 kilometers per hour.
Along the way, they encountered several disciples, many of whom had received radishes and onions as gifts from Xia Yi. Seeing him, they greeted him enthusiastically, but their eyes always widened as soon as they noticed his swollen belly.
Though they didn’t know exactly what was going on, Junior Brother Xia’s proud demeanor and the way he supported his back made it hard not to imagine things.
“179, when we get back, give everyone in the sect a radish and an onion. After all, they are my mother-in-law’s disciples. Technically, we’re all family.”
“No problem, Host. Your mother-in-law is my mother-in-law too.”
With Qingxiu nervously piloting, the fan eventually flew out of the mountain gate, skimming along the stone path toward the herb field at the foot of the mountain.
The distance between the gate and the herb field was just a few kilometers, normally only a few minutes’ flight. But at Qingxiu’s pace, it would take at least ten to twenty minutes.
The fan passed over a few rocky outcroppings, and since it was flying so close to the ground, the fan gently bobbed with the contours of the rocks. Qingxiu quickly turned around to check if Xia Yi was okay.
Seeing that Xia Yi was fine, Qingxiu relaxed and prepared to continue.
But just as he turned back, without any warning, the sky suddenly darkened.
Xia Yi instinctively looked up, only to see a large fishing net descending from the sky, directly covering the two of them on the fan.
At the same time, a strange fragrance filled the air.
Just as Xia Yi thought, this isn’t good, his head suddenly felt heavy, his eyelids grew heavier, and the scene before him started to blur into double images.
Before losing consciousness, he instinctively placed a hand over his belly.
He could faintly hear 179 screaming in panic in his mind before everything went dark.
In his hazy state, Xia Yi once again saw that emerald-green pond. The water rippled softly, and a gentle, deep voice echoed in his ear, “Xiao Lan, Xiao Lan.”
The scene shifted, and he seemed to have become a boy of about ten years old, pushing open a wooden door and rushing out with a bundle of fragrant bird-of-paradise flowers in his hands.
“Xiao Lan, where are you going?” A voice called out from behind him, and Xia Yi turned to see his mother.
“I’m going to find Zeyuan. He promised to take me to see the ocean today,” Xia Yi heard his younger self answer in a slightly childish voice.
“Wang Lan, Zeyuan also needs to train. You can’t keep pestering him all the time.”
The voice from behind faded as the boy named Xiao Lan ran further away.
“I know!” Xia Yi saw himself cup his hands around his mouth and shout toward a figure standing in front of a cabin nestled in the distant hills.
“Zeyuan doesn’t mind! He wants me to bother him every day.”
Wang Lan… so that’s this boy’s name, Xia Yi thought in his dazed state.
Wang Lan happily weaved through the forest, sunlight dancing on his body like a fawn leaping through the trees, humming a little tune Zeyuan often sang to him:
“Little orchid, white and pure,
Clean as snow, bright as the moon.
Little orchid, slender and tall,
Graceful like jade, carved so small.”
Soon, he arrived at a pond and looked around, as if searching for someone. When he saw no one nearby, he began to shout, “Zeyuan, Zeyuan! Brother, I’m here!”
His voice echoed through the mountains, startling a flock of birds into the clear blue sky.
Receiving no reply, Wang Lan pouted and sat on a rock by the pond, holding the bird-of-paradise flowers in his hands.
Swinging his legs over the rock, he waited, bored. Seeing the water so clear, he couldn’t resist taking off his shoes and socks, dipping his snow-white, round feet into the pond.
Suddenly, the world spun, and he was lifted into the air from behind. Just as Wang Lan was about to scream in fright, he caught the familiar scent of grass and wood from the person behind him.
Instantly, his fear dissolved, replaced by surprise and joy.
A warm breath brushed against his neck as his earlobe was gently nibbled, and a deep, familiar voice whispered, “How long have you been waiting for me?”
Hearing that voice, Xia Yi, still half-conscious, instinctively moved his lips and softly murmured two words.
At the same time, Wang Lan’s excited voice echoed in his mind:
“Brother Zhu.”
“Brother.”
Fragmented memories began to sharpen in Xia Yi’s mind, as if he were reliving the story of Wang Lan and Zeyuan firsthand.
When they were children, the two had met in a forest. Zeyuan, who had secretly snuck out of the demon realm, encountered the lost and crying Wang Lan there.
Zeyuan had coldly watched the little boy, who looked like a porcelain doll, sobbing uncontrollably and clutching his hand, sniffling as he called out for his brother.
“Brother, I can’t find my mom. She brought me to see the flowers, but I chased a butterfly and lost her.”
Zeyuan, his face stern, pried open each of Wang Lan’s small fingers, one by one.
Just as he was about to leave, his waist was grabbed tightly again.
The little porcelain boy sobbed so hard he couldn’t open his eyes. “Brother, don’t leave! Brother, don’t leave!”
Zeyuan struggled to free himself, but the child only clung tighter, wailing louder and more pitifully. With a long sigh, Zeyuan finally relented, “Do you know how loud you are? Your crying is giving me a headache.”
“If you keep crying, I’ll leave you here.”
Upon hearing this, the little boy instantly went silent, as if a switch had been flipped.
He held his breath so hard that his tear-streaked face turned red, hiccupping from trying not to cry.
Zeyuan looked around, furrowing his brow like a grown-up. “What’s your name? Where do you live? I’ll take you home.”
“My name is Wang Lan. I live at home,” the little boy answered in a childish voice.
His round almond eyes, still wet with tears, blinked as his long lashes clumped together.
“If you can’t tell me where your home is, you’ll just have to wait here for your mother to find you,” Zeyuan said, clearly wanting to ditch the boy and quickly run off to find some monkeys to play with in the woods.
“No! I want to go with you, Brother,” Wang Lan, now like a lost baby bird, clung to the first person he encountered.
Realizing he’d been out long enough and would get into trouble with the demon guards for sneaking out if he didn’t return soon, Zeyuan reluctantly grabbed Wang Lan’s little hand, speaking gruffly, “Fine, but no more crying. No noise. Walk on your own.”
Wang Lan, unafraid of Zeyuan’s rough tone, smiled so widely that his eyes squinted. Covering his mouth with one hand, he whispered, “Brother, I won’t make a sound.”
The two played in the forest all afternoon.
While Zeyuan chased the monkeys, Wang Lan sat on a nearby rock, giggling as he watched. When Zeyuan was sweating profusely from running around, Wang Lan pulled out his tiny handkerchief, tiptoeing to wipe Zeyuan’s face, saying repeatedly, “Brother, bend down. Brother, bend down.”
Zeyuan paused, watching him for a moment, then finally bent over.
Wang Lan clumsily wiped his face, just like his mother did for him, and muttered, “Don’t run so fast. You’ll fall.”
Barely noticeable, the corners of Zeyuan’s mouth lifted into a fleeting smile.
They played until a distant voice called for Wang Lan—his mother had come to find him.
As the day drew to an end, Zeyuan prepared to return to the demon realm. Just as he was about to leave, his sleeve was tugged again.
Wang Lan blinked pitifully, asking in a small voice, “Brother, will you come again tomorrow?”
Ze Yuan was about to refuse, but looking at the hopeful gaze of the little person in front of him, the words got stuck in his throat and he couldn’t say them.
As if guided by some mysterious force, he nodded. “I’ll come back.”
Wang Lan immediately beamed with joy. “Then I’ll wait for you at the same spot tomorrow.”
From then on, whenever the demon guards weren’t paying attention, Ze Yuan would slip away from the demon realm and head straight for Xiyue Valley, where Wang Lan was.
And, from a distance, he would always see a small figure sitting quietly on a rock, waiting for him.
Whenever Wang Lan saw Ze Yuan, his round eyes would light up like two little stars, sparkling with joy. He’d shout “Brother!” and rush over to him.
Ze Yuan would catch the small figure in his arms, and though he said nothing, a soft smile would appear on his lips.
As Wang Lan grew older and became more fluent in speaking, Ze Yuan gradually learned everything about him.
Wang Lan’s parents were flower spirits, born from bird of paradise flowers, and they had lived in the spiritual energy-filled Xiyue Valley for over 200 years.
The couple only wanted to cultivate in peace in this secluded place, but unexpectedly, they conceived a spiritual child—Wang Lan.
After that, the two flower spirits lost all focus on cultivation, spending all their time caring for their son, their hearts completely devoted to him.
When they realized that Wang Lan had befriended an outsider from the demon realm and was spending his days running wild with this boy, they were filled with worry.
They knew that spiritual beings like Wang Lan were highly sought after in both the celestial and demon realms, as their flesh and blood could greatly enhance one’s cultivation.
But no matter how they tried to stop him, Wang Lan would sneak out. They couldn’t bear to hit him—he was so soft and delicate. And scolding him was futile, as he’d just look at them with his big, tearful eyes.
As time passed and nothing happened to Wang Lan, the couple could only sigh in resignation and stop preventing him from meeting Ze Yuan each day.
As Ze Yuan grew older, his power increased, and the name “Ze Yuan, the demon prince” began to be known.
One day, Wang Lan was sitting on his usual rock, idly twirling a piece of grass, his eyes fixed longingly on the path where Ze Yuan usually appeared.
The time they usually met had long passed, and the sun was about to set, yet Ze Yuan was nowhere to be seen.
“Is brother not coming today? Or did something hold him up?” Wang Lan’s lips pouted in disappointment, his eyes welling up with tears.
The sun had dipped below the mountain peaks, and the forest was now shrouded in mist. Even though Wang Lan lowered his head, he remained sitting there, unmoving.
Just as a tear was about to fall from his eyelashes, a voice called out from the side. “Wang Lan.”
Ze Yuan stood there, drenched, his chest heaving as he panted for breath.
His face, now showing the contours of a young man, still had water dripping down his strong, handsome chin.
At the sound of his voice, Wang Lan’s head snapped up, and like a little bird, he immediately rushed over, throwing himself into Ze Yuan’s arms and burying his head in his chest.
“Why were you so late today? Where did you go?”
The muffled voice came from his chest, tinged with a hint of grievance.
Ze Yuan stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do, looking down at the soft black hair in his arms.
Water dripped from the young man’s body, and while Ze Yuan wanted to gently push him away, he couldn’t bring himself to part from the warm figure. His raised hands hovered in the air.
“Tell me, where did you go? You made me wait so long.”
Now that the feeling of grievance had passed, Wang Lan started to pout, demanding answers.
He was no longer the soft, gentle child in front of Ze Yuan—sometimes he even acted a bit fierce.
“The demon guards said that recently the twin dragons in the Twin Dragon Pool had been wreaking havoc, so today I went and killed those two dragons. I brought the dragon skins back for my father to make boots, and I brought the dragon pearls for you.”
“These dragon pearls, also known as dragon beads, glow in the dark. You can use them at night instead of a candle.”
Despite his exhaustion, Ze Yuan was visibly proud as he spoke. After finishing, he fished around in his robes and pulled out two glowing pearls.
Gently, he took Wang Lan’s hand and placed them in his palm. “For you.”
Wang Lan looked at the dragon pearls in his hand, then at Ze Yuan.
He saw Ze Yuan’s clothes were torn in several places, revealing bloodstains underneath. On his back was a deep, long wound, with the skin and flesh curling at the edges.
Tears welled up in Wang Lan’s eyes again, his lips trembling. “Who cares about your pearls? I don’t want them.”
Ze Yuan, panicked by his reaction, quickly said, “If you don’t want them, you don’t have to take them. We can throw the dragon pearls away. My family’s black Qilin egg is about to hatch, and when it does, I’ll bring you a baby Qilin to play with.”
“I don’t want it. I don’t want anything.” Wang Lan’s tears began to flow. “Look at you, disappearing for a day and coming back like this.”
Ze Yuan clumsily tried to wipe his tears away, but his efforts only left a red mark on Wang Lan’s pale skin. This made him panic even more.
As Wang Lan cried, he moved behind Ze Yuan to check his wound, his voice choked with sobs as he asked, “Does it hurt?”
“No, it doesn’t hurt at all. Not one bit, really,” Ze Yuan hurriedly assured him.
Seeing that Wang Lan was still crying, Ze Yuan’s mind was racing—he just wanted to stop the tears.
Then, gently, he lifted Wang Lan’s face.
His small, fair face, washed by tears, looked like a piece of glistening jade, with crystal-clear drops still clinging to it.
Before he knew what he was doing, Ze Yuan bent down and kissed one of the teardrops.
Wang Lan obediently closed his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering as more tears spilled out.
Ze Yuan kissed away the tears, eventually brushing against Wang Lan’s soft, pink lips.
…
When Ze Yuan finally lifted his head, Wang Lan still had his eyes closed.
At some point, his tears had stopped. His lips were slightly swollen, glistening with moisture, and his face had taken on a rosy, intoxicating hue. Slowly, his thin eyelids lifted, revealing eyes that sparkled like the morning stars.
Flustered, Ze Yuan quickly stepped back, stammering, “It’s getting late… I—I should head back.”
“Mm.” Wang Lan, unusually, didn’t cling to him and act spoiled, simply lowering his head and letting out a barely audible hum.
From Ze Yuan’s angle, he could see the fair, slender neck of Wang Lan, which had turned slightly pink.
After running two steps away, Ze Yuan suddenly stopped, turned around, and shouted, “Wait for me tomorrow, I’ll be on time!”
With that, he ran off, pulling out his long spear, tossing it into the low air, and leaping onto it with one agile move.
As he took off, he heard Wang Lan’s voice call out from behind, “I know. Don’t forget to apply some medicine when you get back.”
Riding the long spear toward the demon realm, Ze Yuan subconsciously touched his lips, a faint smile appearing on his face.
Not long after, Ze Yuan brought him a recently weaned baby Qilin.
Its body was pitch black, with two amber-like yellow eyes. Wang Lan fell in love with it at first sight.
“Da Hei (Big Black) is quite fierce. I secretly brought Xiao Hei (Little Black) out to play with you, but I have to return it when night falls.” Ze Yuan said while playing with the Qilin’s tiny horns, watching Wang Lan cuddle Xiao Hei tightly.
“I know, I’ll just play with Xiao Hei from time to time.” Wang Lan kissed Xiao Hei’s forehead, and Xiao Hei contentedly closed its eyes, nuzzling against his chest affectionately.
Ze Yuan visited Xiyue Valley every day, bringing Xiao Hei along. They didn’t just play within the valley but began exploring further regions.
One day, Ze Yuan and Wang Lan, who was holding Xiao Hei, were flying low across the Yinhai (Hidden Sea), riding the long spear.
The sea beneath them was calm and as blue as the sky. Occasionally, dolphins would gracefully leap from the water, splashing up small waves, causing Xiao Hei to growl softly in surprise.
At the far end of the Hidden Sea were towering mountains, with jagged peaks piercing the clouds, and in the distant horizon, some floating islands could be seen suspended in midair.
“Wow, what’s that? Islands floating in the sky!” Wang Lan excitedly tugged on Ze Yuan’s sleeve, pointing ahead. “Brother, let’s go play there and check out those islands.”
But, unusually, there was no response from behind him.
Curious, Wang Lan turned around to see Ze Yuan looking down, deep in thought, not even glancing at the floating islands.
“Brother, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you happy?” Wang Lan lowered his voice, cautiously asking when he saw Ze Yuan’s unusual demeanor.
After a moment of silence, Ze Yuan finally lifted his head and gazed at the floating islands in the distance.
“Xiao Lan, have I ever told you that a close relative of mine lives on those floating islands?”
Wang Lan, hearing this for the first time, shook his head eagerly.
“Though I know they live there, I’ve never once visited. I only know because my father mentioned it once, when he accidentally let it slip while drunk.” Ze Yuan’s mood was visibly heavy.
“My father never talks about this person, but I know he misses them. Many nights, I’ve seen him standing alone on the palace roof, drinking while looking in this direction.”
“On clear nights, the floating islands would faintly appear on the horizon.”
“What’s their relation to you?” Wang Lan asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
Just as Wang Lan thought he wouldn’t get an answer, Ze Yuan quietly responded, his voice low and filled with sorrow, “It’s my mother.”
After saying that, Ze Yuan glanced at Wang Lan, trying to gauge his reaction.
But Wang Lan’s expression didn’t change. It was as if he’d only heard some unimportant news about a neighbor.
“Let’s go, Brother. Let’s get closer and have a look.” Wang Lan looked up at him, speaking softly.
Ze Yuan’s heart stirred.
Out of pride or perhaps for other reasons, he had never approached the floating islands or asked his father about his mother. But with Wang Lan’s simple suggestion, a powerful emotion suddenly rose in his chest.
He silently told himself, “Just one look, just one look. It’s not because I want to—it’s because Wang Lan wants to go.”
The spear flew towards the floating islands, skimming over lakes and mystical mountains.
Ze Yuan’s gaze fixed on the distant Qishan Gate, half-hidden in drifting clouds, his heart pounding.
That person, she lived there.
They landed in a field of herbs, the purple stalks swaying gently in the breeze, their vibrant color stretching to the horizon like waves of wheat.
Wang Lan ran through the field, laughing and shouting in excitement. “Brother, it’s so beautiful here. Let’s not go back. Let’s live here!”
Ze Yuan looked at his bright eyes, his porcelain-white skin tinged with a rosy glow, and smiled, nodding. “Then, one day, we’ll live here.”
“Mm, we’ll build a wooden house and live here.” Wang Lan nodded enthusiastically, as if afraid of not expressing enough certainty.
As the sky gradually darkened, the two had no choice but to prepare to leave.
Just as they mounted the magic weapon, a group of people flew toward them from the distance. Upon seeing them, the group slowed down and stopped in front of them.
“Are you both fellow cultivators of Qishan? I am Chen Qian of Yulu Mountain. We are here at the invitation of Elder Tianxuan of Qishan, accompanying our Master, Wu.” One of the figures dressed in a cultivator’s robes stepped forward and greeted them with a slight bow.
Wang Lan and Ze Yuan exchanged glances and giggled, “We’re not from Qishan, we just came to play.”
The group examined them briefly. The one who had spoken turned back to the others and said, “Master, shall we go?”
The elder behind him nodded slightly, but as he passed Wang Lan, his eyes narrowed, and a meaningful smile appeared on his lips.
“A spirit fetus! It will take a few more years to fully mature.”
That smile was as chilling as a venomous snake flicking its tongue, radiating a sinister, cold malice.
Xia Yi suddenly felt a surge of fear and pain welling up from his heart, and the scene before him plunged into darkness.
He heard his own rapid breathing, the triumphant laughter of a group of people echoing around him, and it felt as if his body was bound to a cold stone slab, racked with excruciating pain.
Panic overwhelmed him. He wanted to scream, to call out for his brother, his parents, but when he opened his mouth, all that came out was a hoarse, guttural noise.”
“Pain, my whole body hurts, I feel so wronged. Where’s my brother? Where are my parents? It hurts so much…
Xia Yi felt like his throat was being choked by overwhelming fear, and he started to struggle violently, gasping for air.
‘Junior Brother Xia, Junior Brother Xia, wake up!’ An urgent voice echoed in his ears, pulling him out of the abyss-like darkness.
‘Junior Brother Xia, what happened to you?’ Qing Xiu asked nervously, watching Xia Yi, who had been trembling in pain while unconscious, suddenly open his eyes and stare upward, still breathing heavily.
Gasping for breath, Xia Yi slowly turned his gaze. He saw a massive stone dome above him and several unfamiliar faces looking anxiously at him, including Qing Xiu, whom he recognized.
