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"However, you are particularly unique. After Pei Niannu's Divine Descent, she shares a body with you, and you simultaneously wield martial arts and Magic... unheard of. So, how the path will unfold, even I cannot determine." Xu Zhenguan sighed softly, his gaze sowhat resentful.

As Empress, Zhenbao is reluctant to admit that she feels a hint of jealousy towards a female sorcerer who died six hundred years ago...

Zhao Douan looked aggrieved: "I also didn't expect it to turn out like this..."

He temporarily wasn't worried about his own cultivation; the further he progressed, the harder it beca to advance. He had no idea how long it would take to reach Heavenly Human.

He could slowly explore...

"Very well, try visualization, your first attempt won't last long, I will protect you." Xu Zhenguan turned away, his white robes fluttering as he sat alone on a ditation mat, ignoring him.

In his heart, he thought: Xu Zhenguan, Xu Zhenguan, you, a mighty Emperor, what kind of person are you, how can you act like a mortal woman who doesn't understand the big picture?

Shouldn't be, shouldn't be.

Zhao Douan hesitated for a mont but obediently sat cross-legged on another ditation mat, attempting to visualize the "Big Dream Scroll".

Candlelight flickered, the night was tranquil.

In a daze, the familiar feeling of entering a dream enveloped him, Zhao Douan's eyelids slowly closed, feeling his body sinking.

His consciousness gradually detached from the current world, he heard the sound of wind, as if falling from the sky.

...

Zhao Douan heard a woman's "harrowing" scream, accompanied by others urging "harder", he felt himself sink into water, with the sound muffled.

Warm and humid forces around him constantly pressed, causing him to continue sinking... He wanted to open his eyes but couldn't.

He didn't know how long it had been until he felt a strong hand grasp his ankle and pull him hard.

"Wah!"

Like soone drowning, being pulled out of the water, he took large breaths, accompanied by uncontrollable crying.

Beside him, the voice of the midwife filled with joy: "Born! Born!"

Days later, when Zhao Douan finally opened his eyes, he saw the faces of a young couple filled with smiles.

And the sowhat shabby house, with a roof and beams filled with straw, belonging to the lower-class common people.

He had returned six hundred years back, to the end of the previous dynasty, Qi Country, in the first year of Heavenly Hunting.

Born in a village sowhere in the Central Plains, with parents who were simple farrs.

"Is this the 'Big Dream Scroll'? Experiencing another life?" Zhao Douan lay in his swaddle, amazed, observing this world.

He found his thoughts were still clear, but all power had vanished, as if he had traversed again.

Whether it was due to the Big Dream Scroll or the inadequate brain capacity of an infant requiring much sleep, the subsequent ti was fragnted.

In the blink of an eye, many days passed, and mories were intermittent.

He witnessed his own "Full Moon", the first ti he called "Mom", the first ti he stood up and learned to walk... the first ti he ate...

Such an experience was extrely fascinating, making everything feel new, and when bored he would think that if his situation were in a novel, he should write a book called "Becoming a Martial God from Infancy"...

In what felt like a blink, six years had passed, he had grown from an infant to a child.

Perhaps because of the dream, his na still remained "Zhao Douan" here.

And as Zhao Douan grew older, his wisdom and maturity far exceeding those of his peers gradually beca apparent to the adults.

With one instance where he casually wrote a poem, and the old scholar at the town's school "astonished" with him, young Zhao Douan earned the title "child prodigy".

The schoolmaster showed up with gifts, enticing him with promises, successfully taking Zhao Douan around the nearby towns, showcasing talents beyond his age for profit...

Upon receiving the script reminiscent of Jiang Yu, Zhao Douan lost interest, returning ho to explain the situation to his parents. When the schoolmaster visited again, he was directly chased by the father in this life, wielding an iron pickaxe across half the village.

"Ah, truly lonely, bored and cold... No, using a poetic description, it should be..."

Young Zhao Douan propped his chin, sitting by the window, watching the scene of "father" fighting the old scholar outside the village, his youthful face exhibiting maturity beyond his years.

He picked up a brush, and in the latest title of his novel written on the most inferior yellowed paper, penned a flamboyant chapter title:

[A Loneliness Like Fireworks]

Then he laid down the brush, glancing at the pile of novel manuscripts he crafted to pass the boring tis, his small face sighed gently: "This Big Dream Scroll can't truly make live as a mortal all my life, can it? However I try, I can't sense Heaven and Earth Primordial Qi, not even able to enter mortal..."

"Xu wouldn't have made such a mundane scroll of worldly transformation, so... according to conventions, I should have so changes already at six or seven years old..."

Just as he thought, Zhao Douan suddenly saw swaying threads of rain outside the window.

Beyond the village, a mysterious woman clad in red beneath, wearing a "silver" face armor, with a balance bar inserted at her waist, approached wearing a raincoat and a conical bamboo hat.

She broke the peace of the small mountain village.

Pei Niannu floated straight into the courtyard, her gaze swept past the window, surveying the bewildered child inside.

Beneath the mask, thin eyebrows like willow leaves arched: "Are you the rumored child prodigy? Are you willing to follow on a cultivation journey?"

Zhao Douan stared dumbfounded, instinctively turning to look at the thick pile of novel manuscripts on the table beside him, as if seeing two blood-red characters:

Update!

Suddenly, with a strong sense of vertigo, the dream quickly collapsed.

...

In the old building's third floor, on the ditation mat before the stone wall.

Zhao Douan suddenly opened his eyes, gasping for breath, sweat slowly trickling down his forehead.

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