"Coward? Why don't you surrender? You're pathetic, Jin Shao. You can't escape, you're finished," Zao Feng said, pointing a phoenix fire sword at Jin Shao's heart. "Your parents are dead, you have no choice but to submit to me. You will live as a slave for the rest of your life."
"No... I won't accept it," Jin Shao said, his voice trembling, glaring at Zao Feng with hatred. His honey-colored eyes looked as if they could spit fire at any moment. He used the last of his strength to pull the sword away from his chest. Although he wasn't going to die, the pain was unbearable.
Zao Feng, surprised by the boy's brute strength despite his chest wound, did not hide his fear. Instead, he tried to thrust his blood-red sword even further.
"Jin Shao, I don't think you understand. You're just a slave of the Zao family. Your mother was a worthless servant... She died so pathetically trying to protect you, hahaha!"
"Don't talk about my mother like that!" Jin Shao roared, managing to deflect the phoenix fire sword and lunging at Zao Feng. But he was easily knocked down. Zao Feng pointed his sword at him again.
Jin Shao, I am a level two spiritual warrior. You are nothing more than an ordinary child without spiritual essence. I had to test my new powers on someone, and, well… your mother was nearby. She should be grateful: she had the honor of dying at the hands of her young master.
Jin Shao lowered his gaze, resigned. Zao Feng was right. He was only five years old and possessed no spiritual essence. He couldn't fight him… but at least he could die and go to be with his mother.
As if Zao Feng could read his thoughts, he lowered his weapon and smiled.
"I changed my mind. You deserve to see your mother die with your own eyes, powerless to do anything. Hahaha!"
Having said this, he left him lying on the floor, wounded. His laughter echoed through the halls of the residence. Jin Shao's mother's lifeless body wasn't far away, so the boy approached cautiously. The floor and walls were covered in blood, creating a horrific and terrifying scene.
"Mom... Mom, please hold on. I'll take you to a doctor," Jin Shao said, lifting his mother with difficulty. His body was too small to fully support her, so he dragged her slowly, leaving a trail of blood behind him.
They lived in an area far removed from the residence and the village, but Jin Shao knew that taking her back to the mansion would be pointless. He walked for seven hours until he reached the village, leaving a trail stained with red that horrified anyone who passed by.
Despite the people who saw him, no one stopped to help. They just covered their mouths and continued on their way, without giving a second glance to the exhausted and dying child.
Upon arriving in the village, Jin Shao rushed to the nearest hospital.
"Please help me! My mother is hurt, she needs help, please!"
The first to emerge was a doctor named Feng Liu, who was tending to wounded soldiers from the war near the southern border. Seeing the child with his mother's body, he sighed in frustration.
"That woman is already dead. Leave the body there with the others. Someone help the child."
Two soldiers carried his mother's body. Jin Shao stared at them, stunned, unable to react.
Then, Jin Shao opened his eyes.
"Did I dream all of this...? On the last day, huh? How ironic..."
A slender, beautiful hand gently caressed his chest.
"My lord, it's very early. Stay a little longer with Xia Wu," whispered a sweet, feminine voice.
Another hand encircled his waist.
"My lord, are you leaving already? Stay a little longer..." said another beautiful woman.
Jin Shao smiled wryly as he stared at the ceiling. He was reclining on a luxurious bed, accompanied by two beautiful women. He was the Supreme Emperor of the Ninth Heaven, and he felt pleased.
He got up, leaving the beauties in bed, and dressed in an exquisite black suit, adorned with gold thread. His figure radiated power. He walked to the basement, where an old man with long white hair tied back in a ponytail awaited him.
"Your Majesty, you have finally arrived," said the old man, bowing. Before him stood a gleaming crystal sphere.
Jin Shao spoke in a melancholic voice.
"Old Wan, you have served at my side for many years."
"Serving Your Majesty is an honor. But… is it truly necessary to do this? To go back, after all…"
"That doesn't matter, old Wan. No one in the Nine Heavens can defeat me. Perhaps my life has grown dull. Last night I dreamt of my childhood… and of my mother. It was utter misery. But I won't leave forever. I'll return."
"Your Majesty, if you leave, the whole world will be shaken."
"Heh. I already told you, I won't leave forever. I buried the Seed of the Moon and the Eternal Night somewhere in the world. There are only two of those seeds. To my surprise, someone has already taken the first one. Although it bothers me when they touch what is mine, no one knew I was looking for it."
"Your Majesty..."
"Did you understand my order, old Wan?" Jin Shao said with a threatening look.
The old man swallowed hard. "Y-yes, Your Majesty."
"Very well. Let's begin then. If you hold any grudge against me, now's the time to get your revenge," Jin Shao said with a brazen grin.
"Don't say that, Your Majesty..."
"Enough talk. Let's begin."
Jin Shao opened his arms, exposing his chest, and smiled as if nothing mattered. Old Wan drew a soul-cultivation dagger and, with guilt and resignation, plunged it into his heart. Jin Shao spat blood and fell to the ground.
His vision blurred. The regenerative power he possessed was useless: the dagger drained his energy, turning him into a mere mortal.
As he slowly died, memories flooded back: his master's abuse, his classmates' humiliations, the nights he spent sleeping in the woodshed, the laughter, his concubines, the glory, and the emptiness.
When Emperor Tao—better known as Jin Shao—died, he did so with a smile. Life had been too absurd, too cruel, too human.
Hurried footsteps echoed through the palace. Old Wan had fled. When the concubines arrived, they screamed and called for help. Soon the news spread: Emperor Tao was dead.
"Emperor Tao is dead? Who killed him?"
"They say it was his right-hand man, Wan Yuan… that old fox."
In a bustling restaurant, the talk was on everyone's lips: the emperor had died, leaving countless beautiful women alone.
"Jin Shao is dead?" a man in his thirties said through gritted teeth. "Heh, I don't believe it. I never will."
Then, elsewhere, a child opened his eyes.
He had a small nose, pink lips, and was covered in dirt. He couldn't move. He struggled to move one finger, then another, until he began to cry desperately. His crying lasted for hours, until some teenagers in green robes with swords at their belts approached.
"What was that?" one asked.
"It must be a magical creature," said another, approaching cautiously.
One of them, without looking, stepped on the earth where the child was buried. He wept even louder.
"Hey! What are you doing? There's a child in there!" his companion shouted. "Feng Wu, get him out!"
"Me? Why is it always me?" Feng Wu grumbled, but finally obeyed and dug him up. "He's naked!"
"Huh?" Linyuan said, surprised. He looked at the trembling boy. "Damn, he really is."
They found a bag nearby and decided to check its contents. Feng Wu, who was quite fussy, wrinkled his nose at the smell.
"Come on, there's a waterfall nearby. We'll clean him up there," Linyuan said, taking the child.
They didn't walk far. When they arrived, Feng Wu checked the water and, without thinking twice, threw the child in like a stone.
"What the hell are you doing, you idiot?!" Linyuan shouted furiously. "It's a child, not a rock!"
Pleach-faced Feng Wu dove into the water to pull him out… but the child had vanished.
"Where is he?" he said, panicking.
"There!" Linyuan shouted.
A gigantic chimpanzee, the size of two grown men, was holding the child in its arms as if it were its own.
"Damn it…!" Feng Wu whispered, his heart pounding.