Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Desolate Village, Chenxing Takes a Disciple

At a glance, the child running out from the village was about two or three years old, with a tender, fair face and large, sparkling eyes—truly a beautiful sight. Still too young, his steps were unsteady as he ran, but his eyes were fixed intently on the bowl of milky liquid atop the stone platform, filled with the fierce determination of someone who would not be denied.

Chasing after him was another child, only slightly older, dark-skinned and skinny, striding after the little one with loud shouts ringing out.

The younger child paid no heed to his companion’s calls, his gaze locked solely on the small bowl atop the stone, so intent that drool trickled from the corner of his mouth.

A few days earlier, the little one had stumbled upon the bowl on the stone platform by chance, discovering it contained some unknown beast’s milk. Raised in the village on the milk of all manner of beasts, the boy naturally could not let such a delicacy go to waste. Every time, he would sneak over and drink it all. That milk brimmed with unimaginable vitality, gradually healing his frail body—made weak by certain special circumstances—and slowly strengthening his flesh.

Yet, at such a tender age, he cared little for these effects. What mattered was that the milk tasted better than anything he’d ever had, delighting him beyond words.

Today, while playing with his friends, he had carelessly let slip the secret. The others were instantly envious and clamored to try this mysterious milk as well. Fortunately, he had not revealed the exact time the milk appeared.

A group of children ran to the stone platform, only to find no sign of the small bowl he had described, thinking he had tricked them. Disappointed, they scattered.

He waited until the time he knew the bowl would appear and crept toward the stone alone, only to be discovered and followed by Pi Hou, the mischievous one of the group.

With no other choice, the little one ran toward the stone platform with all the speed his short legs could muster. Sure enough, the small bowl had already appeared, exuding a faint, enticing fragrance.

Reaching the platform, he immediately grabbed the bowl, ignoring Pi Hou’s hurried approach, and poured the contents into his mouth. Though Pi Hou was a bit older, he arrived just a moment too late; the little one had finished the milk.

Pi Hou snatched the bowl from his hands, only to find it empty—just a few drops of milk clinging to the bottom—leaving him on the verge of tears.

Turning to the innocent, wide-eyed boy at his side, whose lips still bore traces of milk, Pi Hou grumbled, “You could have saved me a little! Why’d you drink it all?”

“Ah! Didn’t you say you don’t drink milk anymore? Why are you trying to take my beast milk?” The little one asked with a look of pure innocence.

Pi Hou’s face flushed red. “It’s only because you said it was so delicious—I just wanted to try it, that’s all!”

The little one replied guilelessly, “Ah! This milk must be a gift from the Willow God. Next time, I’ll ask for more, and I’ll save you a sip. Ah!”

Yet, in his young heart, he was scheming: if there were an extra bowl, he could drink more himself, and as for Pi Hou, he’d leave him just a smidgen—yes, just a little! How clever of me!

While the little one was distracted, Pi Hou stealthily scraped a bit of milk from the bottom of the bowl with his finger and put it in his mouth. His eyes widened in astonishment—no wonder the little one was so reluctant to share; it was simply too… too delicious!

As Pi Hou marveled at the taste, he failed to notice a tiny, almost imperceptible warm current spreading through his body, subtly increasing his strength.

While the two plotted over the bowl of beast milk, high above them, a figure watched with a smile: it was Chen Xing.

After arriving in this world via the Boundary-Piercing Shuttle, Chen Xing had originally intended to enter the Sea of Realms directly, to do battle with the greatest powers here using his quasi-saint cultivation, to eradicate the source of the dark turmoil, perfect his own Dao Heart, and perhaps investigate the so-called “Above the Heavens” to see what had gone awry with the Dao of this world.

Yet, in the end, he chose not to. He understood that tempering the Dao Heart was not achieved solely through the struggle of life and death in battle, but through experiencing the myriad hardships and separations of the human world.

Of all the chosen ones fated across the worlds, none had a more tragic destiny than the little one before him. At birth, his supreme bone was taken by his own kin; his parents, seeking justice, broke with their clan, but failed and were humiliated. With no other recourse, they fled with their son into the great wilderness, hoping to save his life, but to no avail.

By chance, they discovered the lost ancestral land and, with no other choice, entrusted the little one to the old clan chief before venturing to the Immortal Mountain in search of spiritual medicine—never to return.

Enduring countless tribulations, the boy eventually stood atop the world, but lost so much: parents, kin, lovers, his own child, friends, comrades… In the end, he was left only with the Dao itself. To end the turmoil, he severed the ages with a single sword, cleaving through all of time and space, entering the heavens alone to fight ceaselessly, leaving behind only a solitary figure—never to be seen in the world again.

To Chen Xing, the protagonist of this world was dearest of all. When he first read this story—written by a certain “Pit God” on Earth—his favorite was the young little one.

He most admired the indomitable Shi Hao.

He most grieved for the solitary Emperor of the Wasteland.

He most pitied that tearful, tragic romance…

Thus, Chen Xing finally arrived at this remote mountain village: Stone Village.

He refused to personally extinguish the world’s turmoil, for that was the little one’s burden to bear. It was his to end, not something that should be erased by Chen Xing’s intervention and thus lost among the masses.

He should fight bloodily across the world, yet he should not endure tribulations that were never his to suffer.

He could face the darkness, but he should not go alone into the night.

He would save all life, but he should not lose those dearest to him.

And so Chen Xing came, wishing to witness the child’s growth—both to perfect his own nature and to temper his Dao Heart. He also hoped the boy’s journey might be less lonely, that he would no longer fight alone. He should have kin, lovers, brothers, and friends by his side.

He sighed deeply, gazing down at the little one below with infinite pity, murmuring, “I am here. I will not let you suffer such a tragic fate again, for I… forbid it!” In those last words was a majesty so vast that even the heavens seemed to tremble.

“Ah! Willow God, I hope there will be two bowls of beast milk next time, so I can share some with Pi Hou.” With his bright, lively eyes, the little one stood before the willow tree—now only a single branch remaining—bowing in a show of exaggerated respect.

Watching the boy feign pitifulness for the sake of another bowl of milk, Chen Xing nearly burst out laughing. He lowered his head thoughtfully, then took out a Yellow Plum and shot it toward the willow, where it instantly melded into the tree.

The Willow God was slowly healing her wounds, but the injuries from that ancient battle were so severe that her consciousness had never fully recovered. In her haze, a surge of immense vitality suddenly poured into her, instantly restoring much of her strength.

The Willow God was shocked beyond measure. To recover from her wounds should have taken countless millennia—she might well have perished entirely. She could not fathom what had happened today to allow such rapid healing, even with her vast experience as an ancient ancestral spirit.

She had once cut down gods and demons in foreign realms, entering and leaving their lands countless times, making even the demon gods tremble at her name. In that epic battle, she nearly perished, her very soul nearly dissipating!

Yet even when she was reduced to a single remnant soul, serving as a village guardian in this lower world, her spirit had never wavered.

But this day’s strange events left her deeply shaken. Not even the world’s greatest elixirs could have healed her so quickly. What had happened today?

Just then, as the little one was pleading with the Willow God for more milk, he suddenly saw a tall figure emerge from the tree—peerless in beauty, commanding all beneath heaven.

The true form of the Willow God was not bound to the tree: she stood tall and proud, clad in immaculate white, radiant as the moon, veiled in streams of white mist. Behind her hovered three thousand orbs of light—each a world unto itself.

Within every sphere was a universe, filled with ancient kingdoms and countless gods and demons who worshipped her, their chants echoing endlessly. Multitudes of worlds, with infinite beings, prayed and revered. The radiance was dazzling, the light hazy, making her seem the sole, eternal existence in all of creation, her vision enveloping the entire village.

The sight left the little one dumbfounded, and Pi Hou beside him stood frozen, as if his soul had left his body.

Since the Willow God had become Stone Village’s guardian spirit, no one had ever seen her true form. Now, as this vision shook the village, everyone rushed out to kneel in worship before her.

The old chief spoke with reverent deference, “Our guardian has protected us for many years. Now that you reveal yourself, do you have any commands?”

The Willow God ignored the old chief, Stone Yunfeng, and looked around, seeing only ordinary villagers—none who could have healed her.

She was about to speak when a childish voice piped up beside her: “Are you the Willow God? Next time, could you give me two bowls of beast milk? I’ll share with Pi Hou.” It was the little one.

The Willow God was momentarily stunned. For some time she had been in a daze, with no idea what “beast milk” the child was talking about.

As she hesitated, a voice came from above: “If you want more beast milk, why not take me as your master?”