Chapter 87 Zhaoheng and Chunsheng
As the sound spread, the surrounding scenery blurred like an ink painting soaked in water.
Wheat seedlings stubbornly broke through the soil beneath the barren land.
The thin boy ran barefoot along the ridges between the fields, his trousers rolled up to his knees revealing his thin calves scratched by thorns.
The boy held a large handful of wildflowers in his hand, the pale yellow dandelion stems still covered in mud.
He was rushing to see someone, running breathlessly but refusing to stop. He crossed withered wheat fields, traversed cracked riverbeds, and finally disappeared into the dark, deep forests of Luoyun Mountain.
"Zhao Heng!"
A boy sat on the lowest branch of a ginkgo tree in the deep forest, his silver hair hanging down like a curtain woven from moonlight.
The mountain breeze brushed through his hair, carrying tiny specks of light, like morning dewdrops floating gently with each breath.
When he saw the thin boy running towards him, he lowered his head slightly, his silver hair falling over his shoulders, and his emerald green eyes gleaming with a faint smile.
"Spring is born."
The little boy, Chunsheng, scratched the back of his head shyly, revealing a smile with a missing front tooth, and handed him the flowers in his hand. "Don't listen to what others are saying. You're not a monster. They won't be your friend, but I will."
Xiao Chunsheng plucked a leaf, wiped the dirt off his hands, and carefully took out a shriveled cornbread from his pocket. "Here, have this."
Zhao Heng shook her head, "I am the divine beast Dang Kang, I don't need to eat."
"Are mythical beasts really that powerful?" Xiao Chunsheng tilted his head. "Why didn't you beat them up when they were talking bad about you? Just take it as a gift."
Zhao Heng shook her head. "I don't care what they say. They're not my friends."
Xiao Chunsheng's bright eyes sparkled. "So, does that mean we're friends?"
Zhao Heng nodded, took the dirty cornbread, thought for a moment, took off the red string from his wrist and put it on the bewildered Xiao Chunsheng's hand.
"Thank you for your gift. This is for you; if you ever need me, you can use it to summon me."
Xiao Chunsheng's eyes sparkled, and he nodded solemnly, "Don't worry, I will definitely cherish it."
Time flew by like sand in Huali's eyes.
The skinny little boy who used to run barefoot on the ridges of the fields has grown into a young man with a slightly hunched back. His palms are chapped and his fingertips are deformed from years of hard work.
In his youth, he always loved to run into the deep mountains, but at some point, he started going into the mountains less and less often.
At first it was the busy farming season, then it was family matters, and the young man found someone he wanted to protect.
Years later, the youth grew old.
The demon king plundered and slaughtered indiscriminately, taxes increased exponentially, the land cracked, and people starved to death everywhere.
The old man looked at his silent son and his toddler grandson who had just learned to walk, and suddenly remembered the promise he made when he was a child.
*
It's time to apply the Golden Eyes technique.
Recalling the past consumed a huge amount of her life points, and Huali couldn't help but spit out a mouthful of blood. She looked at the old village chief's eyes, which were so different from when she was young, and asked, "Where did your blood come from?"
The old village chief's eyes darted around as he was about to speak, but Hua Li rudely interrupted him, enunciating each word clearly, "I'll ask you one last time, where does your blood come from?"
The old village chief slowly calmed down, shook his head and sighed, "I don't know what you're talking about."
The golden card glowed, and thin golden lines slowly stretched out, extending all the way to the barn behind the village.
Huali glanced deeply at the village chief's hunched and silent appearance, then ran in the direction of the golden thread.
Tang Wanwan immediately followed, "Hey, Huali, wait for me! You can take care of Senior Brother Ziyan here, I'm going to help her!"
Seeing Tang Wanwan run away, Mo Ziyan frowned and was about to chase after her, but his arm was grabbed by the villagers.
"Grandpa, please get up. Auntie, please don't kneel..."
*
Following the golden thread, Huali arrived at the barn.
The moment she pushed open the door, she found her hands trembling. The Cursed Heart Butterfly fluttered its wings and circled around her, silently landing on her shoulder.
Tang Wanwan followed closely behind, and without understanding why, she flung open the door, and the stench of decay and mold mingled with the smell of blood.
The mountain of wheat ears in the corner was blackened and smelly, and even the wealthy Tang Wanwan subconsciously exclaimed, "So much grain..."
Yes, so much grain...
Huali walked around the pile of grain and looked at the hidden door behind it. The door had been torn apart by the tower spirit, leaving only a dark hole, like the gaping mouth of a monster.
The two descended the steps, the dark dungeon filled with the stench of blood mixed with the earthy scent of spring.
Like the moment you open a window after the rain.
The first thing she saw was the long, silvery-white hair on the ground, which looked like a woven brocade under the moonlight shining through the skylight.
Zhao Heng's appearance was different from when she was a child; she now looked like a young man.
The marks left by the binding rope were so deep that the bone was visible. The red rope tightened more and more with his struggles, and with each tightening, new drops of blood would drip down the rope's lines, all flowing into the transparent glass bottle.
The tower spirit, covered in blood, knelt beside him, its small hands pressed tightly against his blood-stained chest. Spiritual energy flowed into it like a trickle, but it was insufficient, and its life force continued to ebb away.
Tang Wanwan, who was following behind Huali, saw Huali suddenly stop and asked curiously, "What's wrong? Is it..." Her voice trailed off.
Tears welled in the tower spirit's eyes, but he stubbornly refused to let them fall. His youthful face was contorted with rage. He had almost exhausted all his spiritual power, and his body was gradually becoming transparent.
Hatred burned fiercely in his eyes, "You...you all want him dead!"
Huali stood frozen in place, her heart feeling as if it had been clenched tightly.
She looked at the dying Zhao Heng, then at the tower spirit's eyes, which were red with hatred, and all the truths connected in an instant.
The blood in the well wasn't the villagers' blood at all. That's why, when they discovered it on the first day, so much blood was missing from the glass bottle the next day...
There has never been a god, when Kang brought abundance...
It was a lie fabricated by the entire village; everyone conspired to imprison Zhaoheng.
Huali met Zhaoheng's dim green eyes, which were like dull emeralds reflecting the shadows of countless scarecrows.
Those people cut off his flesh and blood and put it into the scarecrow, drained his blood and poured it into the well to irrigate the fields, in exchange for three harvests a season and piles of moldy, rotting wheat ears...
Tang Wanwan stammered, "I...I can help him..."
"You think I'd believe you?!" the tower spirit roared furiously. "You're all the same! Humans are the most greedy and shameless of all. They used the Immortal-Binding Ropes stained with their own blood to bind Zhao Heng, and they even dared to try to strengthen the restraints with your cultivators' blood. It's impossible to untie it... Waaah, it's impossible! I've already tried... What am I going to do? I'll kill you all... I'll kill you all!!!"
Large tears fell from the towering figure, landing on Zhao Heng's face.
Huali stood there, her throat tight.
She watched as the tower spirit crumbled and Zhao Heng lay dying in a pitiful state—
What has she been doing these past few days?
The moment tears welled up in her eyes, the Wood-type Card was born in response to the call.
"The origin of all things, life!!!"
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