The little boy in front of didn’t recognize .
My heart involuntarily jumped. It was normal for Changan during elentary school not to recognize , but this little boy should correspond to the real Changan. For a mont, I couldn’t tell if he was still actually Changan, rely entangled in his self-awareness within the dream, or if he was really Ying Lingyun from elentary school.
"I am Zhuang Cheng."
I first introduced myself, then asked again, "You are Zhu Changan, right?"
"Zhuang Cheng... who?"
Even after hearing my na, he still seed fairly unfamiliar. Fortunately, he nodded afterward and said, "Yes, I am Zhu Changan... Are you my grandfather’s guest?"
I breathed a sigh of relief in my heart and then asked with a deliberately testing tone, "What do you think?"
"You must be a guest," Little Changan said. "Our house has a protective barrier; those who enter without permission quickly get lost in the woods. But you made it to the front door, so Grandfather must have let you in."
While analyzing, his gaze on also beca trusting, yet still slightly shy.
Now that I had found Changan in the Spirit World, it was ti to help him confront Yinyue’s spirit. However, he seed to be entirely lost in the dream at the mont, completely seeing himself as his elentary school self. Perhaps I should first help him regain the correct awareness of himself.
But how exactly should I do that? He didn’t even recognize who I was; to rashly reveal his true identity and situation would hardly be convincing, and it might even lose his trust. I didn’t want to resort to cruel and aggressive thods on a friend. Of course, if there was no other way, I could only apologize in my heart and then harden my heart to do it.
As I observed him, he seed to be secretly observing too, his eyes fleetingly glancing towards his villa’s door. Strangely, even though his current setting was just having co ho from school, he had no intention of entering. It didn’t seem like he was taking my presence into consideration, it seed more like he was sowhat unwilling to enter his own ho, a reluctance that was difficult to explain to outsiders.
I realized I had no knowledge at all of this period of Changan. Changan in his elentary school years knew about demon hunters and the strange world, and had also undergone training and education from demon hunters. Perhaps his character was also different from the later Changan. The Changan in my mory was a heartless rich young master, but the Changan in front of seed to have an introverted, self-contained temperant.
Could it be that Changan was like this during this period?
I realized I had never truly delved deep into Changan’s past. Although I knew he was part of a demon hunter family, knew about the dangerous Demon blood in his body, knew he had amnesia as a child... I always dug deep into the "surprising parts" but lacked curiosity about the troubles and routines he faced before we t.
"Aren’t you going inside?" I asked.
He shook his head slightly, first silently looking at the tightly closed door of his house, then said softly, "Not... not going in yet."
"Why?" I was curious.
He stayed silent.
Seeing this, I changed the subject: "I noticed you seed upset when you ca back, did sothing unpleasant happen?"
"No... well, yes, a little..."
He initially seed reluctant to talk to , but perhaps there were many troubles pent up inside him, he couldn’t help but confide in , this "stranger."
"People at school were talking bad about ... they called a liar," he said.
"Liar?" I asked.
"I’ve told people that demons and devils exist in this world, as well as those who hunt them, but no one believes ..." he said blankly, "I also... can’t prove it to them, because I can’t even find those creatures... even I myself don’t know if those things truly exist anymore..."
Hearing this, I found it sowhat strange.
In my mory, Zhu Shi once talked to privately. After Zhu Chang’an’s demonic bloodline was sealed in his childhood, although his mories were also sealed, he still retained so impressions of "common knowledge", like the existence of strange creatures and demon hunters.
The problem is the sealing of his demonic bloodline should have happened right after he graduated from elentary school, which is also when puberty begins and physical developnt is fast. Perhaps the demonic bloodline went berserk due to the rapid developnt of his body.
However, the Chang’an in front of is still in elentary school, wearing the uniform of an elentary school in Saltwater City, which I recognized. The tiline clearly doesn’t match up. He should not have his mory sealed yet, but he is showing a perspective that only appears in the future.
Perhaps this is due to the chaotic setting of dream space-ti, I should for now accept this setting. And since the Chang’an from his elentary school period has mories from his junior high period, maybe I can use this "chaotic ti-space setting" to help him recall more things.
"So... have you ever talked about this with friends?" I asked, "You should have a friend who is very interested in urban legends, right? If it’s him, he might believe what you said."
"Friends... friends?" He seed a bit confused.
"What about it?" I asked.
"...I don’t have any friends." He actually said that.
"Not even one?" I asked further.
He responded despondently, "Not even one."
As he spoke, he started to move around, not entering the mansion but walking around it.
I followed him and asked, "Where are you going?"
"At this ti... Jiuxing should still be training with Grandfather," he said with an inexplicable tone.
"Jiuxing..."
I almost didn’t catch on, then finally rembered to ask, "Are you referring to Zhu Shi?"
"Ah... yes, she is now called ’Zhu Shi’..."
He nodded, and before long, he stopped walking and cast a complex glance towards the side.
He was looking at one of the windows on the first floor of the mansion. Through the window, one could see a quite spacious room akin to a college dance studio. However, instead of anyone dancing, there were two figures wielding swords – one large, the other small. The larger one was giving verbal instructions while the smaller one was repetitively swinging a sword.
That must be Mr. Zhu and the young Zhu Shi. The forr’s face hardly looked any different from Mr. Zhu I know, and the latter, compared to the curvy college girl I rember, was just a little radish head, whose appearance was fully captured by my eyes.
The young Zhu Shi, dressed in a white practice outfit, held the heavy Yama Sword, repeating the movents of lifting and chopping. The youthful face was covered with beads of sweat, and the clothes were soaked inside and out with sweat. Each swing of the heavy tal real sword was accompanied by a tender and loud shout, but it lacked an imposing aura and only conveyed pain and exhaustion.
I was involuntarily drawn by young Zhu Shi’s appearance, while at the sa ti recalling the appearance of Little Bowl that Mazao had printed using the Mind-Written Photos.
The young Zhu Shi, and the Little Bowl from that Mind-Written Photo, surprisingly had not a single slightest difference.
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