Peng Mingyi no longer knew what was happening back in the Jade Capital. And he didn’t care anymore. He wandered past green mountains and flowing rivers. When hungry, he picked wild fruit. When thirsty, he drank from cold mountain springs. And at last, he climbed to the highest cliff. Dıscover more novels at 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭•𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮•𝘯𝘦𝘵 The summit was blanketed in lush greenery. Before him, waves of clouds surged like a tide. Far below, the roar of rushing water echoed faintly from the depths. He stretched out his arms and tilted his head back, letting the sunlight warm his face. And in that golden light, fragmented memories flickered through his mind. But every one of them was filled with crying. It was as if his birth had cursed his mother to die. As if his arrival shattered the home he was born into. His family, every last one of them, slaughtered. All of it, just so he could become a jade husk. If he’d been a failed jade husk, only he and his mother would’ve died. But because he was a success…everyone except him died. Like the wolf mother staring at the sunset in her final moments, Peng Mingyi now stood at the peak, his memories stirred by the collapse of the Exotic Beast Park. So here he was. At the highest point he could find. Standing still, bathed in light, face aglow with quiet contentment. He whispered, “So this is what it looks like…when a lotus blooms. In the end… it’s just blood. What’s so beautiful about that? Heh.” With that, he opened his arms wide and leaned forward. And fell. The wind screamed past his ears. His silver hair streamed behind him like a banner, revealing a face more delicate, more heartbreakingly beautiful than any woman’s. As death closed in, Peng Mingyi smiled. He was truly, deeply happy. In a secluded mountain village hidden from the world, blooming flowers and lush greenery formed a natural wall that shielded it from prying eyes. The only way in was by following a narrow river upstream, unless one could fly. Tap! Tap! Tap! By the riverbank, a village girl in a blue headscarf was rhythmically pounding clothes against a stone. Her face was plain, her figure slender, and she didn’t look particularly strong, just an ordinary country girl going about her chores. As she scrubbed and rinsed, she suddenly froze, sensing something. She lifted her head toward the flowing water, and saw a young man drifting downstream, soaked in blood. There was no time to think. She threw down the washing paddle and dove in, swimming as hard as she could. With great effort, she grabbed hold of him and dragged him to shore. Struggling, panting, she flipped him over— The boy’s hair was a striking silver, soft and dreamlike. His skin was smooth and fair, far too delicate for someone who did manual labor. A boy had to be handsome, someone from a world completely different from hers. But his face…it was ruined. Likely smashed against rocks in the river, his features were torn and swollen, twisted into something barely human. A pang of inexplicable sorrow rose in her chest. Still, she didn’t hesitate. He was breathing faintly, so she pressed on his belly to help him cough up the water. Then, hesitating only a moment, she leaned down to breathe air into his lungs. Again and again, she repeated the cycle. Eventually, the boy showed signs of life. Without waiting, she hoisted him onto her back and carried him all the way home, shouting, “Dad! Dad! I saved someone!” A voice from inside replied, “Where’d you find him?” She explained, and the two voices soon broke into a loud argument. But in the end, the boy was allowed to stay. And then, one morning, the boy slowly opened his eyes. Above him was a cracked wooden ceiling, its beams warped with age. He turned his head and saw the village girl tending to a pot of porridge over a clay stove. Hearing him stir, she turned around with surprise and delight. “You’re awake? Ah! Don’t move, your injuries aren’t healed yet!” She rushed over and gently pressed him back down. A few moments later, she brought the bowl over with a smile. “Our food here’s not as fancy as what you’re probably used to, but you need to eat something.” The boy stared at her blankly, then reached out to take the bowl, only for his arms to seize up, his muscles trembling uncontrollably. She giggled. “You really should rest. Here, let me feed you.” She picked up a rough wooden spoon, scooped a small mouthful of porridge, blew on it gently, and brought it to his lips. He hesitated for a moment, then opened his mouth. The porridge was thin, the rice sparse. But it was delicious. He finished the first bite, then another. “Slow down!” she urged, “You’ll choke!” Soon enough, the bowl was empty. The girl stood to wash the dishes. But behind her, the boy’s eyes suddenly turned red. Tears streamed down his ruined face. His voice rasped, “Who are you?” The girl turned around. “Zhou Sanniang. And you?” “I...” The boy paused, then said hoarsely, “I don’t remember.” The village girl gasped. “Then what should we do?” The boy replied softly, “Why don’t you give me a name?” “Ah??” she blinked, flustered. But she hesitated, stammering. “I...I don’t know much. I’m not good at naming things.” The boy gave her a faint smile. “Then I’ll just be called Zhou Na.” “Huh??” she stared at him, mouth agape. Beneath the surface, unseen undercurrents swelled, like dark clouds gathering before a thunderstorm. Not yet striking, but thickening…waiting. Time passed in a blink, and deep winter arrived. The Lotus Cult still hunkered down in the Jade Capital. With the White Lotus and Red Lotus Cults actively moving, they had subdued many of the surrounding minor factions. They searched for Peng Mingyi. But the former cult leader of the Black Lotus Cult, now simply Zhou Na, had vanished. He had fallen in love with the village girl who saved him. They held a simple wedding, and he changed roles completely, from cult leader to fisherman. Elsewhere, the Revival Tree God had arrived in Cloudpeak Province. He moved slowly, stopping often, trying to trace the faint thread of blood connection he’d been following. He had considered turning back. There was one possibility that gave him pause, one that made him hesitate. And yet…the things he saw along the way stirred a different emotion. Curiosity. Something was happening in the frozen lands of the Evernight. Something he hadn’t foreseen. Maybe, just maybe, it was worth taking a look. Meanwhile, Li Yuan hadn’t been idle either. Once he confirmed that the main forces of the Lotus Cult were entrenched in the Jade Capital, he began devouring their holdings in the south, methodically, relentlessly. After all, Yan Yu could now produce more human-skin manacles. The Court of Judges was growing stronger. The Lotus Cult was being silently infiltrated. Any attempt to investigate the black market ghost domain was met with endless resistance. Bit by bit, the black market ghost domain began to change, taking on a new name—Ghost Prison. And it was all thanks to that towering iron cage at its center. Now deep into winter, snow howled like beasts, galloping across barren plains, villages, and battlefields. In the heart of Ocean Province, a newborn’s cry pierced the cold air. It was that of a boy. “It’s the Dragon Son! The Dragon Son! ” the midwife shouted with wild excitement. Outside, cheers erupted even louder. Gao Kaiping stood silent beside the house, clad in silver armor, a long spear in hand. He remained still as a statue, standing guard with unwavering focus. Suddenly, from afar, a new wave of voices surged. “The Emperor has arrived!” And there he was, Li Yuan. Of course he came. How could he miss a moment ? He strode through the gates, and everyone bowed in greeting. But among the crowd, some raised their eyebrows in doubt. The Emperor had been missing for quite some time, why show up now? And wasn’t the herald who announced him just a Xie Clan servant, not a palace eunuch? But those doubts quickly faded. Because Li Yuan walked straight into the Xie Clan’s inner quarters, unhindered. If he were an impostor, how could the Xie Clan possibly allow him near the newborn Dragon Son? This was, naturally, all arranged by Xie Wei. She had instructed everyone in advance, “The Emperor will come on the day I give birth. That was our promise.” In truth, there was no such promise. She had simply guessed. And she had guessed right. “You’re here.” Xie Wei smiled. She looked down, gently cradling the baby boy in her arms. Weary but glowing, she lifted her eyes to meet his. “Come look at our son,” she whispered. “See? He looks just like you.”