"Your Excellency Sique, could you please co over for a mont?"
At this mont, a man wearing a verdant green traditional Chinese buckled shirt approached, looking proper and kind.
Su Ming’an disregarded the angry Nora and followed the man away.
"What’s the matter?"
The man whispered, lowering his voice: "...Your sister wants to see you."
Su Ming’an was shocked.
... Sique has a sister?
Leaving the banquet hall, the shadows of the trees grew dense, and clusters of serene wooden cottages were set up, with a white figure standing silently among the flowers.
The person had white hair and green eyes, dressed in a verdant green traditional Chinese buckled shirt, with golden plum blossoms adorning the collar and cuffs, their figure tall and slender, and the lines of their finger joints clearly visible.
With just one glance, Su Ming’an felt a sense of familiarity, his heart tightening instantly — was this person Sique’s sister?
The gender doesn’t seem to match, though.
The guiding man beside him saluted: "Greetings, young master."
"Mm." The white-haired youth responded, holding a black and white panda in the arms, and looked at Su Ming’an:
"...Long ti no see, Sique."
At this mont, Su Ming’an’s [Heart’s Blood (Red Level)] was triggered.
...
[Heart’s Blood (Red Level · Evolvable): "The return journey of fifty Fire Transmitters has finally arrived — Mr. Su Ming’an, you are our endpoint and miracle."
Durability: MAX
Physical Defense Value: 5 points
ntality Defense Value: 5 points
Type: Special part ear equipnt.
Passive Skill (The Republic): From now on, you can retrieve history through personal experience (thods to retrieve history are not limited to: touching antiques, researching ancient paintings, interacting with old folk songs, consulting the few whose mories weren’t erased about the past, exploring relics, etc.), and store the history in your mind. This storage is permanent.]
...
Since entering the Eleventh World, this equipnt was triggered for the first ti. Su Ming’an had sowhat understood the triggering chanism — perhaps it only triggered when it involved very important characters or crucial history.
At the mont of being triggered, he saw a scene.
...
This seed to be a scene from many years ago.
Sique, draped in asymtrical brownish-yellow burlap, with a white cross collar exposing half of his chest, appeared in a minstrel’s attire.
As he passed by a hillside, he saw soone lying on the slope.
"...Stranger, why are you lying here?" Sique asked.
The white-haired youth lay in ruin, his hair disheveled, scars covering his body, coughing blood incessantly. Yet his gaze held a serene calmness akin to an open field, as if the wind would blow and the vicissitudes of life would shift with it.
"...Because I’m dying." The white-haired youth placed his hands on his chest, answering dully: "I’m gravely ill, no one will save ."
He was quite composed, as if he had already accepted death.
"How do you know there isn’t anyone?" Sique squatted down.
"...Do you want to save ?" The white-haired youth’s eyes lifted slightly. Could a passing stranger be so kind-hearted?
"I won’t save you." Sique laughed, plucking wildflowers from the surrounding hillside and placing them on the white-haired youth’s chest. This flower, nad ’Bamboo Leaf Flower’, with petals like bamboo leaves, could be seen everywhere in Luowasha, the most ordinary yet tenacious flower species.
The white-haired youth couldn’t understand his intention.
"Your pose is quite standard, just add these flowers and you’ll be a very handso corpse." Sique said, "Just maintain this posture."
Saying so, he waved, walking downhill.
"...Wait a minute." The white-haired youth sat up, scattering wildflowers to the ground. The apathy of impending death suddenly disappeared from his eyes as an inexplicable sense of reluctance welled up within him. Sique’s seemingly jesting action inexplicably aroused his hidden desire to survive.
If he died in such a posture, even his enemies would point fingers at his corpse like this.
He was unwilling.
Calmly waiting for death was a lie; living on was aningful. Even if humiliated, even if begging for help...
"...Help ." The white-haired youth stumbled downhill, his steps unsteady, bumping into Sique’s shoulder, yet he continued to weakly repeat, "...Please help ."
Sique didn’t turn back: "I’m not a Great Kind Person, nor anyone’s Savior. If I save you, what can you offer ?"
The white-haired youth seriously pondered:
"I am the young master of the Qing Zhu Clan, Lu Shen. I was exiled from the family. Once I return, I will be your ally... no matter who you are, I will follow you."
Sique shrugged: "A re Qing Zhu Clan is not worth my attention."
Lu Shen seriously pondered again: "As a mber of the Qing Zhu Clan, I will keep shedding my skin. If you save , you can eat it."
He evaluated his flesh in transactional terms, grinding his dignity into the dirt.
Upon hearing, Sique remained unmoved: "I’m not interested in eating you, though the reverse might be true."
Lu Shen blinked, almost thinking he misheard.
Sique shifted the topic: "...How about this, make a ’lifelong follow’ contract. You must promise not to defy , not to betray , not to harm , and not to leave ."
Lu Shen made the contract as instructed, and Sique fulfilled the promise — Sique took out a feather pen and wrote a few strokes on Lu Shen’s body, and suddenly Lu Shen’s illness was cured.
"...Are you a god?" Lu Shen’s eyes widened; such marvelous acts he believed only a deity could achieve.
The minstrel laughed, his golden eyes bright and scorching, like the eyes of a deity, yet lacking the deity’s coldness, the deity’s composure, the deity’s indifference. The smile in his eyes made people feel...
He is in the mortal world.
With arms wide open, as if embracing the boundless flowers, bits of bamboo leaves fluttering. The minstrel’s eyes contrasted with the sunlight as he casually spoke wild and reckless words that shook Lu Shen’s heart and mind:
...
"—A god is nothing more than ink in my pen."
...
And the world was in his grasp.
At this mont, Lu Shen seed to be hit by a powerful current, an unprecedented sense of disarray arose, he felt like a beast confined for too long, suddenly glimpsing a bird soaring high above the cage, its tiny claws resting on the iron bars, laughing mockingly at the sky, its laugh bright like fire.
—Hence, the world was filled with the poet’s laughter.
"Huff... huff..."
Bamboo Leaf Flowers and wild grasses danced in the air, that laughter like fallen flowers scattered all over, resting on petals, landing on shoulders, and rged with the moisture of the spring wind, vastly penetrating the ears of everything, resonating with the throat and chest of the earth and green hills.
Freedom.
The purple-haired poet was this free.
As if the world’s everything was in the wind, and he was the wind.
"... I seem to be ant to follow him." Lv Shen had this thought.
Like a faint echo from a distant destiny, intangible and elusive.
At this mont, the future suddenly held a glimr of hope.
...
Su Ming’an touched his earlobe, unexpectedly finding the Heart’s Blood so useful; he witnessed the scene where Que t Lv Shen just on sight.
Lv Shen was the young master of the Qing Zhu Clan from the Second Epoch. By this account, in the Fourth Epoch, the wandering young master Xiao Lv that Lv Shu encountered would be a direct descendant of Lv Shen.
Plus, with the 2021 version of Supervisor Lv Shu, it’s a gathering of four Lv’s under one roof.
Su Ming’an recalled that in the Fourth Epoch, Lv Shen had once faked his death on the world chessboard, trying to get closer to him. He even pompously wrote down the words "Death of Butterfly". Yet, in the early Second Epoch, Lv Shen was extraordinary for his purity of character.
Ti shows no rcy. It can turn a silent, gentle young man into soone who’s cunningly theatrical.
"Grandma, are you there?" Lv Shen walked to the wooden cabin and knocked on the door.
With a creak, an elderly woman leaning on a cane appeared, trembling: "You’ve co again."
Lv Shen responded affirmatively.
This is his grandma, the only relative who loves him.
"Thank you, Que." Lv Shen looked towards Su Ming’an.
... Thank ? What am I supposed to do?
Su Ming’an’s expression flickered.
"Cough... cough cough..." The white-haired elder shook her head: "You don’t need to, Lord Que is occupied daily, why spend your energy on ? Even if my virus is dispelled ti and again, my body is still failing."
Su Ming’an understood—so Que was helping Lv Shen’s grandma dispel the virus and prolong her life.
"Let try." Su Ming’an took out Que’s purple-gold feather pen, pointing the tip at the old lady.
Instantly, several lines of words appeared:
...
[Na: Lv Wenmo]
[Age: 87]
[Identity: Qing Zhu Clan Elder (now estranged), Lv Shen’s grandma]
[Character: Gentle and kind]
[Experience: In her youth, she was a renowned War God of Qing Zhu Clan, later retired to seek thods to heal Lv Shen’s illness, but due to old injuries, beca trapped in sickness, with little ti left.]
[Estimated Remaining Life: 1 day]
...
... Only one day left?
Su Ming’an picked up the feather pen and crossed out the words "trapped in sickness." By rely crossing out four words, he could feel his physical strength wane.
This was genuinely "one stroke to life, one stroke to death."
It was unlike the ti he rewrote Daylight Floating City’s Siyi; Siyi was conjured by Que, making the rewrites effortless. But Lv Wenmo was native to Luowasha, not part of Que’s pen.
"Slash—"
The elderly lady before him, under one stroke, suddenly looked refreshed. Though still aged, she could live a little longer.
"Thank you..." Lv Wenmo expressed her gratitude, full of remorse. She had been dazzling in her youth, yet now required others to prolong her life. She would rather embrace death, but seeing her grandson Lv Shen’s delighted expression, she couldn’t bear it.
If she dies, Lv Shen would be utterly alone, with nobody left to add an extra layer to his clothes.
"... No matter how many tis I witness scenes like this, I am endlessly fascinated by the wonder of Genesis Power." Guide Lv Chenghe praised: "As the first bearer of Genesis Power, you spread its influence across Luowasha, giving everyone the chance to wield a pen."
Initially, when Genesis Power first erged, it was fiercely rejected, deed as ’demonic power,’ thought to undermine the well-ordered edifice of modern science.
The obstinate, conservative ranks were terrified, fearing this power would dismantle the deeply entrenched aristocratic hierarchy.
Eventually, Que, bearing Genesis Power, stood on Luowasha’s high platform amidst scientific suppression, placed the pen in everyone’s hands, encouraging stories and paths unique to each person—from that mont, people were no longer minor specks beneath societal gears, nor ’cannon fodder’ or ’supporting roles’ under nobility, but individuals who could rewrite their narratives. Despite humble beginnings, adequate Spiritual Energy could alter destiny.
Hence, Que was revered.
A magpie, once dood as re sustenance, now stood at Luowasha’s peak, precisely what Genesis Power brought about.
Having changed Luowasha’s landscape, it was fair to call him Luowasha’s ’Yasa Acto.’ Though many mixed sentints linger about him destroying science, most recognized his role.
One could imagine how remarkable those years were.
It was then Su Ming’an noticed, even though the grandma’s health was greatly improved, her displayed [Estimated Remaining Life] still read only one day.
"—Brother!"
At that mont, the cabin door opened and a white figure sprinted over, crashing into Su Ming’an’s embrace. Instinctively, Su Ming’an retreated half a step, and the girl plopped onto the ground.
With white hair flowing, she lay flat like a pancake on the floor.
... Is she Que’s sister?
Su Ming’an stared at the girl’s face, shuddering to realize—this was Xi Li?
"Xi Li?" Su Ming’an cautiously asked.
"Hmm? Brother, why are you suddenly calling my na," Xi Li got up and rubbed her waist.
A purple-gold hexagram mark adorned her forehead—this was the mark of Rin Clan.
Su Ming’an rembered Xi Li was from the previous Rin Clan, which ans, in the Second Epoch, Xi Li was part of the current Rin Clan, and Que was her elder brother.
Rin Clan consisted of three siblings; Que was the elder brother, Xi Li was the sister, then there should be a youngest—the newborn Rin Clan mber abducted by the Black Robed Man, the youngest brother.
"... When will you take out to play?" Xi Li whispered.
Her eyes glistened like a pale puppy, her expression seed calm on the surface, as if being refused wouldn’t matter, but the anticipation in her gaze couldn’t be ignored.
"Another day." Su Ming’an replied.
"Oh," Xi Li’s eyes still shone brightly: "What day is another day?"
Su Ming’an coughed lightly.
The Second Epoch’s Xi Li was so clingy, whereas in the Fourth Epoch she turned into a reserved little shadow, it’s unclear what she had gone through.
"Where do you want to take you?" Xi Li persisted in asking.
"Anywhere." Su Ming’an responded.
Xi Li brushed Su Ming’an’s shoulder, dropping so wildflowers to the ground, she pondered: "Recently, the Tasang flowers in Gluir Plains are blooming well, will you take to see them?"
"Alright... wait." Su Ming’an scented the Mobius Ring’s trap, such petty tricks couldn’t stall him anymore, he promptly declined: "No."
Fortunately, his swift reaction prevented it, otherwise linked to the Fourth Epoch, Xi Li’s phrase "You promised to take to see the flower fields" would echo incessantly. He couldn’t afford to dig a ditch for himself.
Small Ouroboros, laughable indeed.
At this point, beside him, Lv Chenghe received a communication: "Lord Que, the Queqiu Research Institute is seeking you."
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