Then, it woke up.

A pearly luster flows beneath the pale white skin, like an embryo condensed from distilled starlight.

He had never seen such creatures before—not the obsidian people forged from magma, not the red creatures molded from scorched earth, but something softer and more fragile.

Every breath it took produced a fine mist in the scorching air, as if the land was being rejected by it bit by bit.

It grows slowly, yet incredibly fast.

What is slow is its form, which has been unable to shed its youthful outline;

What is faster is its intelligence, and it can whisper with Him in just a few days and nights.

It came from below, it said—from the crevices that were licked by flames but never devoured, from the dark folds at the bottom of the world.

So it called itself "Little Land", a name so simple that it was almost ridiculous, but it made it feel the weight of naming for the first time in its long loneliness.

Xiaodi didn't say much, but every word he said carried a distant chill.

It tells of the "below" that He has never reached - there is no boiling magma, no piercing starry sky, only endless silence and slowly moving shadows.

And the almost sticky fog that permeated the forest and seemed never to be blown away by the wind, and a coffin firmly locked with black chains.

There is also a living creature sitting on the coffin for a long time.

The creature seemed unconscious and just sat there quietly. Sometimes it would jump down from the coffin, pull it out of the soil, and then wander around with it in this dark, inescapable forest and fog.

He listened in silence, unsure how to respond.

His dreams were filled with nothing but burning and falling, while Xiaodi's memories were filled with diffused fog and the living creatures on the black coffins.

Sometimes, He would gaze at the translucent fingertips of the earth and see the light blue veins winding underneath.

What flowed in there was not flame, but something closer to water.

This made him feel a strange pain - as if an untamed snowfield had quietly grown in the territory he ruled.

Until one day, Xiaodi woke up and suddenly looked at Him.

"Huh? I suddenly remembered your name. It seems like you never told me."

There was a hint of curiosity and doubt in Xiaodi's voice.

When He heard this question, He was suddenly stunned, as if He was stumped by this simple question.

He tried hard to search his memory for information about his own name, but found his mind was blank.

"I don't know either."

After some "difficult" thinking, He finally decided to answer truthfully.

After all, no one had ever asked Him such a question, and He Himself had never thought about it.

"So do you want it, big guy? I can't keep calling you that. It doesn't feel good."

There was a hint of concern in Xiaodi's voice, and its leaves turned softly towards Him, as if expecting His answer.

"Then you take it."

His tone was calm, and he didn't seem to care much about the issue.

However, in reality, even He Himself could not explain it. Deep in His heart, at this moment, a subtle emotion was surging.

"Me?" The little earth seemed a little surprised. It looked at Him, and the leaves stopped shaking in thought.

At this moment, all the "eyes" on his body that could see were squeezed together, staring intently at the little creature in front of him who was thinking about what name to give him.

Seeing Xiaodi so serious, he couldn't help but feel an indescribable feeling in his heart.

It is a kind of hidden happiness, a joy of being noticed and valued.

However, He did not realize at this time that this feeling was actually because He liked Xiaodi to focus all his thoughts on Him, and He did not want Xiaodi's attention to be distracted by the creatures in the outside world.

Especially the strange creature sitting on the coffin that Xiaodi often mentioned, the image of this creature was extremely clear in his mind.

Whenever the novel talks about this creature, He can't help but think of His own early experiences.

At that time, He seemed to be just like that strange creature, without a clear sense of self, just spending every day in a daze.

However, unlike that creature, there is no special existence like Xiaodi by his side.

He couldn't help but wonder why Xiaodi was with that strange creature, and why Xiaodi only came to him now?

This question troubled Him and made Him fall into constant contemplation.

He had darkly imagined countless possibilities deep in his heart, but in the end he did not have the courage to ask Xiaodi.

Because He knew that only when Xiaodi completely trusted Him would she take the initiative to tell him this secret.

His life is long and endless, and time is not a scarce thing for Him.

Similarly, Xiaodi's life is also long, so He is not in a hurry to know the answer.

He has enough time and patience to wait for the day when Xiaodi is willing to share this secret with Him.

So, starting from this day.

He began to learn what to expect during the long wakefulness.

But in his hazy memory, he remembered that when Xiaodi curled up between his fingers—that pearly creature could now stretch its body freely, like a piece of breathing moonlight—he would pull out a human-shaped clone from the depths of the magma.

These incarnations made of obsidian and liquid gold always drop tiny sparks when they walk, and Xiaodi sits on his shoulders, catching those fleeting spots of light with his misty fingertips.

This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading!