Chapter 254

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Protagonist:

Jiang Xuan

The morning light sliced away the last wisp of night; a few dewdrops clung to the Old Willow Tree's charred branches, glimmering faintly in the early sun.

Last night's strange phenomenon seemed like nothing but a phantom dream; right now it was as quiet as the oldest watchman at the village entrance.

The scent of green grass steamed over the open ground before the village; twenty-odd children were stretching their bodies facing the morning sun.

From toddlers with soaring topknots to half-grown youths, all were earnestly copying the moves demonstrated by a middle-aged man.

Now they stretched their arms like gibbons, now they folded their wings like flying birds; dew-damp hems fluttered in the morning breeze, startling a few grasshoppers hiding in the grass nests.

"Heaven and earth just waking — prime moment to gather Qi!"

The bronze-skinned instructor shouted in a deep voice, his rough palm propping up a child's crooked elbow: "Shoulders loose, waist straight, like a freshly sprouted willow branch — supple yet resilient."

Words barely fallen, a clear "Got it!" suddenly rang from the tail of the line, the ending still carrying a milky, childish lilt.

Everyone turned to look — only to see a snowball of a child not even waist-high straining his little face with effort.

His lapel bore suspicious milk stains; his chubby little hands traced utterly haphazard arcs in the air.

Discovering everyone staring at him, Boy suddenly lost his balance, plopped onto the dew-wet meadow, but instantly scrambled up on all fours and continued seriously gesturing his self-invented "fist art," making several bigger kids flush red from holding back laughter.

The instructor's mouth twitched; in the end he merely turned away and coughed twice. The morning sun gilded every silhouette with a golden edge; the Old Willow Tree's new buds quietly unfurled on unnoticed twigs.

Every man, woman, and child in the village liked this lively, adorable Boy from the bottom of their hearts.

"Heave-ho, heave-ho, you've worn me out!"

Boy shouted in his childish voice; before long his little arms and legs had no strength left, "Thud!" he slammed onto the ground, still muttering "alien language" only he could understand.

His big, dark, rolling eyes first stared curiously at the big kids practicing, but a child's attention span cannot last that long; before a moment passed, he was drawn away by some other novel plaything.

"Wow!"

Turned out he had spotted a five-colored little bird, like a flying multicolored fuzzball, darting lightly through the sky.

This instantly ignited Boy's curiosity to the fullest; his eyes widened like two black gems flashing with excitement; his short legs toddled unsteadily yet he ran like the wind, single-mindedly wanting to catch that pretty bird.

All the way, he tumbled several times, knees and palms coated in dust, but this absolutely did not dampen his enthusiasm.

Every time he fell he bounced up like a little spring, nimbly clambered up, and kept chasing the bird with giggles; in that joyful state the whole world seemed to contain only him and that Five-Colored Sparrow.

"Aiya, really can't run anymore, huff-puff…"

Boy ran until he was gasping for breath and flopped onto the ground again; his little chest heaved violently, yet his eyes still locked tightly on the bird fluttering to and fro, full of reluctance.

Before long, the village rang with rising and falling calls: "Food's ready!" Only then did Boy snap back to his senses, patted the dirt off himself, tossed the bird-chasing business to the Ninth Heaven beyond the clouds, and bolted home humming an off-key little tune.

"Boy, come eat!" The Old Patriarch's kindly voice arrived; Boy happened to dash through the door.

Before the Old Patriarch sat an ancient earthenware jar, filled with pure white Beast Milk; rich milk fragrance instantly permeated the air, making Boy swallow saliva repeatedly.

Everyone in the village knew this Boy had a bitter fate — his parents had been gone since childhood, and he grew up entirely on Hundred Beast Milk.

Although he could now run all over the place, long past the age of needing milk every day, there was no helping it — he simply had a special fondness for this Beast Milk.

"Haha, Boy wants milk again!"

A gang of mischievous kids jeered from the side, faces beaming with innocent smiles.

Boy wasn't the least bit shy; he grinned, revealing two front teeth not yet fully grown, foolishly laughing along with everyone, yet his eyes never left the earthenware jar in the Old Patriarch's hands, staring expectantly as the Old Patriarch steadily lifted the jar down from the stove and gently set it before him.

Boy impatiently grabbed the wooden spoon, "whoosh" plunged it into the jar, scooped a brimming spoonful of milk, delivered it into his mouth, and his eyes instantly narrowed into a slit of pure satisfaction, his face written all over with contentment — as if savoring the world's most exquisite delicacy.

"One mouthful of milk a day, happy laughter all the way!" Boy still chanted in his milky voice the catchy rhyme he'd made up himself.

After finishing breakfast, the Old Patriarch went out to handle affairs.

Boy's eyeballs rolled slyly, exactly like a cunning little fox; on tiptoe he took a stone bowl, carefully spooned the remaining milk from the jar into the bowl one spoon at a time, then, cradling it like some peerless treasure, sneaked out the door.

Grandpa Patriarch doted on him and didn't object to him drinking milk, but neither would he let him drink endlessly.

He'd stash some first, so when a craving hit later he could satisfy it anytime! Though the truth was, every time he got his hands on milk he couldn't help draining it in one go.

Old Patriarch Shi Yunfeng had actually long since discovered Boy's "little tricks," merely smiling and shaking his head, letting him be.

Boy hugged the stone bowl and trotted all the way, looking just like a happy little deer.

The marvel was, he ran crooked and wobbly, yet the stone bowl in his arms stayed rock-steady — not a single drop of milk spilled.

Finally, Boy ran to that Old Willow Tree in the village; he glanced left and right, like a thieving little mouse.

In truth the village was only this big; his every move here was seen clearly by everyone.

But one look at this endearing Boy, still hugging his beloved Beast Milk, and everyone just smiled knowingly — no one disturbed him.

After all, Boy was the village's "group pet"!

Boy stared at the milk in the bowl; after running such a big loop his stomach started gurgling again.

"Gurgle-gurgle, so want to drink!"

Boy muttered to himself, lifted the stone bowl to bring it to his mouth. Just then, he inadvertently caught sight of something; his hand froze mid-air, eyes widened, a look of delighted surprise appearing on his face.

"Huh? Could someone be sleeping here?" The little guy's face was full of doubt, eyes round; under the willow tree he saw a green-robed figure sitting cross-legged.

The little guy scratched his head, looked up at that lush, leafy willow tree. Though young and muddle-headed, he still knew this willow tree's special status in the village.

He subconsciously hugged the stone bowl in his arms even tighter — that was his precious Beast Milk.

Immediately after, stepping on his short little legs, he hopped toward the person sitting cross-legged under the willow tree.

This was still on village ground, protected by the Sacrificial Spirit; the little guy felt not a shred of fear.

Who could have imagined that just these few simple steps would cause everything afterward to develop in an unexpected direction.

Boy reached the foot of the willow tree; although this willow tree held supremely lofty status in the village, villagers were still allowed to approach.

"Ya!"

After Boy saw clearly the person beneath the willow tree, he cried out.

The little fellow fixed his gaze on the face of the person under the willow tree, his small brows knitted into a tiny knot; he thought left and right, and confirmed he had never seen this person before.

He tilted his head up and looked at the willow tree above his head. In his heart, since the Sacrificial Spirit allowed this person to sit here, there certainly wasn't any problem. And this person looked so good-looking, no matter how he looked, he didn't seem like a bad person.

"But why are his eyes closed? Is he sleeping?"

The little fellow slowly approached the person on the ground; even he himself couldn't explain why, facing this person, his heart had not a shred of wariness.

Of course, at the little fellow's current age, he still couldn't figure out these complicated matters. He only knew that from the bottom of his heart, he was simply willing to get close to this person.

After much effort reaching this person's side, the little fellow discovered he sat there completely motionless, with zero reaction to everything around him.

The little fellow cocked his head, glanced at this "unconscious" person, then glanced at the stone bowl holding beast milk in his own hand.

"Since Willow Deity agreed you can sit, I'll give you a sip of milk, really just a tiny sip." The little fellow muttered softly while reluctantly extending the stone bowl to that person's mouth.

This was milk he had gone to great trouble to secretly ladle out and hide away; he had originally planned to slowly enjoy it himself, but now had to share it with someone else — his heart was tangled beyond words.

Just as the stone bowl touched that person's lips, the little fellow was still pondering whether to pry this person's mouth open and feed him.

But the next second, he was so startled his eyes bulged like copper bells, his mouth gaped wide enough to stuff an egg in.

Before he could even pour the milk, the beast milk in the stone bowl seemed drawn by an invisible force; with a *whoosh*, it all flowed into that person's mouth in an extremely smooth stream, not a single drop spilled.

The little fellow stared stupidly at this scene, as if hit by a body-freezing spell.

After a good long while, he slowly raised the stone bowl, aimed the bowl's opening at his own face, and even shook his little hand, trying to shake out another drop of milk.

But looking at the clean, spotless, empty stone bowl, the little fellow's little mouth instantly drooped, his eye rims reddened slightly, and his small face was written full of grievance.

"Not a single drop left..." he sobbed softly, heart full of grievance; originally it was agreed only a tiny bit, but this person drank it all — too excessive!

In the little fellow's heart, even if Willow Deity acknowledged this person it was no good; he was even slapped with a "bad person" label.

Pretending to be unconscious — definitely wants to steal my beast milk!

At this moment Boy's small face was full of grievance.

"Cough!"

Right then, the person before him suddenly let out a light cough.

This was like a beam of light slicing through darkness, instantly drawing the little fellow's attention over. He stared unblinkingly at this person, mind full of suspicion: Could it be this bowl of milk took effect? He woke up?

"What's your name?"

"I'm called Boy!"

"Hah!"

The green-robed man extended an arm and steadily lifted Boy up.

Then his fingers lightly pinched Boy's chubby cheek, teasing with a smile: "Boy, good name, Boy is good!"

Boy had his face pinched, yet not a trace of resistance; his glossy big eyes didn't blink, staring straight at the person before him, heart full of curiosity.

"Who are you?" A childish young voice rang out, brimming with probing into this person's identity.

In Boy's heart, this person's whole body exuded a different temperament, completely out of place with the people in the village.

He thought this not because the village lacked such a person, but instinctively felt this person at a glance didn't look like someone who would live in a village like theirs. After all, the people in the village didn't have such outstanding appearance.

That person, hearing this, pondered slightly, gazed gently at Boy, and slowly spoke: "I'm called Hongmeng, you can also call me..."

"Jiang Xuan."

That's right, this person is precisely Jiang Xuan who returned to the Chaos Era! No matter from which level one speaks, he is Jiang Xuan.

Jiang Xuan, toward Boy — that is, toward the Chaos Era — revealed his identity, then slowly raised his head and gazed long at the sky.

The sky was a stretch of tranquility; there was neither sudden crashing thunder, nor terrifying heavenly tribulation that chilled the heart, much less any shocking strange spectacle.

Myriad ages cycled, time arrived at the present day.

At the old grounds of the Ancient Heavenly Court, Little Stone's brand abruptly emerged without warning. In his gaze, complex emotions surged turbulently, as if hiding a thousand words, yet with no way to begin.

"Hongmeng Patriarch?" In a split second, like a breached flood, countless memories surged into his mind.

These memories all tightly revolved around one person, a person who, to his father, was important to the point of being irreplaceable.

"How could I have forgotten Hongmeng Patriarch?"

Little Stone knitted his brows tight, heart full of bewilderment, muttering softly nonstop.

This simply made no sense; by rights, no matter what, he should never have forgotten. Even though his father had intentionally or unintentionally blocked him from excessive contact with Hongmeng Patriarch, his impression of Hongmeng Patriarch was originally engraved in his heart, incomparably deep.

Exactly from when did this segment of memory quietly slip away? And he, surprisingly, didn't perceive it at all.

Even stranger: since he had already forgotten, why would he suddenly recall it in this completely unguarded moment?

Little Stone was no isolated case; in the Upper Heavens Myriad Realms, countless cultivators who walked out of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths and the Boundary Sea all simultaneously had the same person's memories surge into their minds.

This person was Hongmeng! In the depths of their memories, Hongmeng — this name — was like a scroll sealed by the years, instantly unfolding before their eyes.

Those forgotten pasts, carrying unique warmth and emotion, rushed at their faces.

The heavy mist shrouding myriad ages, at this very moment, thoroughly dispersed like smoke. People finally picked up once more those pasts — some plain, some grand and magnificent — those people and events buried by the years, returning to their world.

Above the Evil Land, Shi Hao likewise keenly perceived all this. His memories had never suffered any interference.

As an Immortal Emperor, he inherently possessed the supreme qualification to remember everything in the world. Shi Hao's lips curved slightly upward, revealing a gentle shallow smile; his gaze seemed able to penetrate the long river of endless years, clearly reflecting all of past, present, future, and past-again into his eyes.

Scenes of the past, like frames of an old movie, vividly played before his eyes. Those scenes were familiar as if they happened yesterday, yet in reality were already separated from him by eternal time.

He could clearly see every detail of the past, every trace; however, no matter how he strove, he could not reach out and touch those long-gone scenes. The world's rules were like an invisible yet unbreakable great net, firmly binding him.

Even as an Immortal Emperor possessing heaven-destroying earth-annihilating power, he still could not make even the slightest change to this world's past. The past was already a settled fact; any attempt to reverse history was actually already a predetermined arrangement.

The grand narrative of the years allows no one to act willfully; even an Immortal Emperor standing at the cultivation peak can only follow this irresistible rule. Those who think they can toy with time, in the end, without exception, are ruthlessly toyed with by time, reduced to footnotes of history.

"The Great Dao is profound and unfathomable; the mist has existed since remote antiquity." Shi Hao gently shook his head, his smile carrying a few parts sentiment, a few parts release.

At this very moment, far away in the Chaos Era spacetime, Jiang Xuan was completely unaware of these heaven-overturning earth-shaking changes about to occur in the future.

Right now, his complexion alternated between green and white, his expression extremely ill at ease, his whole person shrouded in an indescribable emotion.

"You're saying I should compensate you for your beast milk?" (Chapter End)