Chapter 156

After I shouted angrily, the sounds inside the temple abruptly stopped, and then a child's crying came from within.

I couldn't help but wonder, in the middle of the night, how could there be a child?

Then, I held a flashlight in my left hand and the Huaguang Seal in my right, and stepped lightly into the temple.

As I moved my steps, the child's crying grew louder, and I could clearly tell which direction it was coming from.

Beneath the damaged altar, a dirty little boy curled up in the corner, whimpering softly; when I shone the flashlight on his face, his small body trembled twice uncontrollably.

The little boy lifted his head, revealing a tender yet dirty little face. His eyes looking at me were full of fright, his small body kept shifting backward, clutching a piece of wood tightly to guard himself.

"Don't move, you're bleeding—I'll bandage you!" I grabbed the child's body and pulled him out gently. I tried to keep my tone gentle and my movements as light as possible,

At the first sight of this child, I was absolutely certain he was not a ghost. Beside him lay a small kangaroo toy and an adult's watch.

These signs indicate the boy likely got lost while playing in the mountains with his family, which is why he hid in this ruined temple.

I placed the flashlight on the ground, clamped it between two stones, then took out gauze from my travel bag and began to bandage his wound.

The wound on the boy's leg is about three inches long, likely caused by a nail, stone, or similar object tearing it open.

If it's a stone, that's fine to say, but if it's a nail… then it's troublesome, as a slight mistake could easily cause tetanus. Therefore, before bandaging him, I must draw out the pooled blood on his thigh.

I told him, "Kid, don't be scared; Uncle will now draw out the pooled blood for you—Uncle is not a bad person."

Despite my reassurance, as I lowered my head to draw out the blood, his body still trembled slightly twice.

If only I could have picked some mugwort on the way up the mountain. Looking at the gauze on the boy's leg, I let out a long sigh.

Although the wound is bandaged, no one can be sure it won't become inflamed; if we had mugwort, crushing it and applying it to the wound would at least somewhat reduce inflammation and toxicity,

"Kid, did you get separated from your family when the fog rolled in?" I took a bottle of mineral water from my pack and drank deeply,

The little boy seemed shy; even after I bandaged his wound, he remained with his arms around his knees, crouched on the ground, silent for a long time.

"Sigh… having been apart from his parents for so long, his spirit must be near breaking point." The boy's silence only deepened my pity; I know well the panic and anxiety a ten-year-old feels when lost from his parents—something ordinary people can hardly imagine.

When I took out bread to eat, the boy's stomach growled; he widened his eyes, staring at the bread in my hand and gulped twice.

"Here, have one—this is red bean cake, it's delicious." I pulled a slightly deformed red bean cake from my pack, tore open the wrapper, and shoved it into the boy's hand.

The bread in my hand are all pre-packaged instant loaves; this food is dry, hard to swallow, and full of preservatives. Even adults find it unpleasant, let alone a child.

Fortunately, I had grabbed a few pastries when buying bread; otherwise, tonight would have been rough for this kid.

The boy stared at the red bean cake in his hand, hesitated for a long while, and finally, unable to resist his hunger, opened his mouth and shoved the cake in.

"Wait…" My sudden shout startled him. Snapping back, I waved my hands and, using the gentlest tone I could, said, "Drink some water first before eating, otherwise you might get appendicitis."

The boy seemed not to understand what appendicitis meant; he blinked his cute big eyes, stared at me blankly for a while, and didn't dare take the water I offered.

"Appendicitis… means that if you're hungry too long, your intestines will knot up. If you don't drink water or have some soup before eating, your belly will clog, your intestines will grow spikes, and those spikes will prick your lower belly…"

I tried hard to put on a cute face and explained appendicitis in a flat narration.

In the end, I realized that even after exhausting myself, spitting out a basket of saliva, making the boy understand appendicitis was truly difficult.

"If you eat without drinking water, worms will grow in your belly, get it." I rubbed my temples, wearily slumped.

At that moment, the stunned boy suddenly nodded, took my water, sipped a little, lowered his head, and began biting big mouthfuls of the red bean cake.

I… for a moment, tears streamed down my face, thinking back to how many generations were fooled by the lie that not eating rice would cause worms in the belly. Now that lie resurfaced, albeit in a new version.

Watching the boy stuff his face, crumbs all over his mouth, I couldn't help feeling a warm joy—this scene was utterly adorable, like a chubby little panda.

If I had a child, how wonderful that would be!

Now I finally understand why people say a life without children is incomplete. Sometimes, watching a little tagalong follow you, chattering away, hearing his baby voice as he mischievously messes around—this too is happiness, a kind of warmth.

"Full yet? If you want more, Uncle still has some!" After our earlier interaction, the boy's guard finally lowered considerably; even when I reached to touch his head, he no longer resisted as he did at first.

"You got separated from your mom, right?" I stroked his head again and asked softly.

This time the boy didn't stay silent; he gave a soft "yes."

When I asked his name, the boy thought for a moment, then firmly nodded his cute little head and declared: "My name is Changsheng—Chang as in General Changsheng's Chang, Sheng as in General Changsheng's Sheng,"

I was stunned at first, then after a while I couldn't help laughing and crying. No need to guess—I could tell his father is a serious Three Kingdoms fan. General Changsheng, apparently that's the title of Zhao Zilong of Changshan,

Though they never swore the Peach Garden Oath, in a past life they were fated; loyalty and courage devoted to the Han court, righteousness surpassing the Peach Garden. A lone horse and single spear breaking through encirclement, heroic spirit sharp, making enemies tremble; one battle robe stained with blood, at Dangyang he cherished this loyal heart—who is he? None other than the foremost of the Five Tiger Generals, Zhao Zilong of Changshan.

Because in Romance of the Three Kingdoms Zhao Yun never suffered a defeat, whether at Bowang or at Changbanpo, people call him General Changsheng, the undefeated war god.

Look at this little boy saying his name with that undisguised pride on his face—clearly he's been brainwashed by his father.

I gave a thumbs-up and said, "Changsheng, a fine name, kid, what's your dad's given name?"

I intended to find out Xiao Changsheng's father's name; tomorrow morning I'll bring this boy down the mountain and hand him over to the patrols of Xiao Tan Shan.

Xiao Changsheng didn't even think, nodding vigorously with a tiger-headed, tiger-brained air: "My dad doesn't surname Chang, he surnames Zhao."

I: "... Then what about you?"

The boy stared at me oddly, then said: "My dad surnames Zhao, so I naturally also surname Zhao."

After saying that, he again glanced at me warily and muttered quietly: "Could it be that this uncle's head got knocked? My dad surnames Zhao—could I possibly surname Li?"

I seemed to sense the boy's dismissive glance; for a moment my head filled with black lines, and I really wanted to yell: "Hey kid, your little thoughts are way too loud!"

………

Looking at his endearing, harmless cute face, I forced down the rising gloom, took a deep breath, and smiled at him,

"Alright, you're Zhao, called Zhao Changsheng—then Xiao Changsheng, can you tell Uncle how you ended up in this ruined temple? Were you separated from your mom?"

Xiao Changsheng propped his cheek, thought for a long while, and under my expectant gaze he stared at me, word by word, solemnly correcting: "Uncle, I surname Zhao, not Xiao."

"Clang"

I fell face up, wanting to cry but no tears—was this the crux of the problem? The crux is how you got separated from your mom, okay?

Kids these days really are getting harder and harder to communicate with.

Just as I rubbed my forehead, weakly pushing myself up to prepare another explanation to Xiao Changsheng, the boy suddenly burst into loud sobs, his voice tear‑jerking, catching me off guard.

"Uncle, there's a monster…… a huge monster, he wants to catch me!" The boy wailed in fear, loudly alerting me.

So I hurriedly patted his back, comforting him: "All right, all right, don't cry, don't cry—tell Uncle what kind of monster it is, and Uncle will help you catch it."

I comforted him like that, and I also felt a bit doubtful in my heart. Could it be that there really is a monster on Xiao Tan Shan?

But after I finished listening to Xiao Changsheng's account, I thought, that monster must be something he imagined.

"It's true, that monster looks like a big tree, this tall, this long!" Xiao Changsheng stretched out his two chubby little hands, gesturing up, down, left, and right.

"He's so scary, he even bites people..."

Watching his gestures, I couldn't help but twitch at the corners of my mouth, little kid, that monster is probably just the shadow of a tree you saw at night, which you imagined yourself.

Seeing that I didn't believe him, Xiao Changsheng pointed to his thigh, which had just been bandaged, and said: "It's true, my leg was still scratched by him."

At that moment, I believed it. I truly believed that the monster was just something Xiao Changsheng had made up; the wound on his leg was clearly a scratch. Before, I had worried it was rust, but now it looks like it's just some dry branches from an old tree.

"Xiao Changsheng, don't worry, that's not any kind of monster..." I gave a slight smile, coaxing Xiao Changsheng.

However, suddenly, a sound seemed to come from outside the door, making me stop abruptly.

Upon listening more closely, it sounded like someone or something dragging along the ground, and the sound grew nearer and louder.

Xiao Changsheng's body suddenly began to tremble without rhythm, he hid in my embrace and shouted: "Uncle, the monster is coming, it's here!"

No sooner said than done—I grabbed the small flashlight beside me and shone it toward the source of the sound.

The object illuminated by the flashlight made my pupils contract involuntarily, and I sucked in a breath of cold air.

"What the hell is this thing?"

In an instant, I was drenched in sweat from fright; I swore I had never seen anything like this before.