Chapter 51

"Where are we?"

On a stone platform high up on the side of a mountain deep in a cluster of peaks, Zongshou looked around, his mind filled with confusion and bewilderment.

Then, in the next moment, his gaze was drawn to a figure in front, looking into the distance at the morning mist.

Dressed in simple white, the figure was not very broad but exuded an extremely imposing aura, with an air that was elusive and unpredictable.

Yet, for some reason, when Zongshou looked at the figure, he felt a sense of desolation and sorrow.

"Shou'er, do you miss your mother?"

"Of course I do! But didn't you, Father, say that Mother is no longer in the Cloud Realm and can never return?"

"Indeed, she is not in the Cloud Realm, but that doesn't mean she can't return!"

The figure let out a bitter laugh but did not turn around: "Before, I thought your mother was dead, but lately, I keep thinking about her. Perhaps I should make an effort to bring her back. My Shou'er shouldn't always be without a mother."

"Really? Father, you're not lying to me? Where is Mother? Shou'er wants to see her now."

Zongshou felt increasingly bewildered. Though he didn't want to speak, the words came out uncontrollably, in a very young, childlike voice, as if he were six years old. Especially when he said "Mother," he felt a warm, eager anticipation in his chest.

Frowning and pondering for a moment, he finally realized that this was a fragment of Zongshou's thirteen years of memories.

The figure in front turned around with a laugh, revealing a handsome face full of vigor and a piercing gaze.

"You can come with me to see your mother, but you must not fall behind in your skills. In twenty years, we will go and see the Lu family, who claim to dominate eight hundred small worlds, and see just how powerful they are—"

Zongshou's eyes narrowed slightly. Wasn't this figure the Blood Mad Demon Sage, the Nine-Tailed Heavenly Fox, whom he was familiar with?

Before he could think further, the scene before him shattered. Zongshou's consciousness flowed along the river of memories. Soon, he found himself in another memory.

This time, it was a wide training ground, with many stone locks and a large number of weapons laid out.

His chest and abdomen were heaving with heavy breaths, and his body seemed to be enduring intense training, feeling extremely exhausted.

Yet, inside his chest, a deep sense of frustration and endless resentment filled his heart. He hated the world for being so unfair and his body for being so useless.

It was still that middle-aged man, but now his eyes were devoid of sharpness, filled instead with pain and guilt.

"Shou'er, it's because you have both human and demon veins that your wheel meridians haven't opened. Not being able to practice martial arts is not your fault. Torturing yourself is useless. If you can't follow the path of martial cultivation, can't you still cultivate soul power? In a few days, Father will send you to the Linhai Academy—"

The memory shattered again. When Zongshou's vision gradually pieced together another scene from countless fragments, he found himself in a narrow corridor.

As he walked, he heard countless whispers from both sides.

"Is this person the waste from Class B who, after three years, still can't open his soul sea?"

"That's him. They say he is the heir of Qiantian Mountain, the future Demon King—"

"Tsk! The demon race always respects the strong. How could the people of Qiantian Mountain submit to him? He's already doomed."

"Pathetic. If he has no talent, he should just leave! He's just taking up a spot and a spiritual land for nothing!"

Unlike before, the frustration in Zongshou's heart grew even stronger, and his anger surged. Along with these feelings, a sense of despair filled his heart.

Not only the memories of his thirteen years, but also the injustices and hardships of his past life began to resurface.

The sorrow of losing his father in childhood, the hardship of supporting his sick mother alone, the relentless studying that got him into the highest academy in the Donglin Cloud Realm, only to have his spot taken by someone with power, leaving him unable to complete his studies. His mother passed away, and he was left alone.

After that, he struggled and gradually showed talent in business, but was envied and marginalized, forcing him to work in a library to make ends meet.

Zongshou watched with a smile, as if it had nothing to do with him. Then, with a wave of his hand, the illusions before him dissipated.

When he opened his eyes again, the flute music continued, still melodious and lingering. Zhao Yanran seemed completely immersed in it, her expression focused.

Zongshou laughed and lazily leaned back, lying comfortably under the eaves of the carriage.

Then, as the flute music changed rhythm, he lightly tapped the Pine Pattern Wind Sword, still in its scabbard, beside him.

The sound was not loud, but the metallic and wooden collision made the flute music suddenly pause.

The melancholic atmosphere instantly vanished.

Zhao Yanran looked at him in surprise, seeing that Zongshou was still awake and smiling. She was instinctively shocked.

Frowning, Zhao Yanran was about to change the tune, sending waves of mental energy toward the Cloud-Turning Carriage. But Zongshou tapped the sword again. This time, it was sudden and perfectly timed, causing her flute music to become chaotic, and the remaining nuances to disappear.

Yin Yang and Chuxue, who were immersed in their memories, gradually regained their senses. Seeing the situation, they first felt confused, but soon they were drenched in cold sweat, their eyes filled with fear.

Zhao Yanran's eyes also contained a hint of coldness. One time could be a coincidence, but two times could not be explained as an accident.

The person before her actually had a way to counter her Yellow Spring Netherworld Melody.

Before she could think of how to respond, the third tap sounded.

This time, not only did her flute music become chaotic, but her internal energy also seemed unstable. A breath of air was stuck in her chest, unable to be released.

Zhao Yanran's eyes flickered, and she paused for a moment before continuing to play the remaining notes.

Then, she saw Zongshou's lips curl into a devilish smile as he tapped the sword against the wooden board for the fourth time.

This made her flute music even more difficult to continue, and the blood stain on the left side of her chest expanded by a full circle.

Her face, which had been rosy, now seemed paler.

But when the coldness in her eyes faded, there was no trace of anger, only a more intense fervor.

This young boy, who was not yet of age, could give her such a surprise!

"Zongshou, are you really only thirteen years old? Have you ever studied music? My Yellow Spring Netherworld Melody is something even my several disciples can do nothing about. To be able to break free from my melody is already extraordinary. To be able to counter it is even more beyond the reach of ordinary martial artists. A gem like you, how could I possibly let go now? How about this: if you agree, in addition to the twelve phantom flame lotus seeds, I can give you three fetal transformation pills. If you still refuse, I'm not without ways to force you—"

Zongshou sighed inwardly, rubbing his temples with a bitter smile. This crazy woman really had her eyes on him.

He was racking his brain, trying to think of a way to get rid of her, when he suddenly felt a huge shadow looming over him.

Looking up, he saw a dragon's shadow winding through the clouds, about three hundred feet above.

Zongshou couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. He had waited for ten days, and this person had finally arrived.