A layer of military canvas had been spread across the truck bed. With the female soldier half-supporting, half-carrying her, Tushan Yao was settled into a corner.
The wounded soldier on the stretcher was at the other end, guarded by two soldiers.
Xiaobao climbed into the truck bed on his own. His movements were nimble, and he did not need anyone’s help at all.
As soon as he sat down, he pulled the half of a corn cake wrapped in a handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to his mother.
“Mom, eat a little something to line your stomach.”
Tushan Yao kept her eyes closed and did not take it.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Liar. You haven’t eaten anything since last night.”
“It’s too hard.”
Xiaobao pursed his lips and stuffed the cake back into his pocket.
He leaned close to his mother’s ear and lowered his voice until only the two of them could hear.
“Mom, hang in there. We’re almost there.”
Tushan Yao did not open her eyes. She reached out and touched his head without saying anything.
She could not remember a single thing about what had happened five years ago.
When she became pregnant with this child, she had even thought that the battle with Taotie had injured her internal organs and somehow caused a mistaken diagnosis.
Later, as her belly grew larger day by day, Fengqi and Longzheng, those two idiots, fussed around her for three days before finally reaching a conclusion.
“Yaoyao, you… you’re pregnant.”
“Pregnant with what?”
“With a cub.”
In her more than one thousand years of life, that was the first time she had been rendered speechless on the spot.
The nine-tailed fox clan had long been reduced to just her.
She should not have kept the child.
She herself was nearly dying. Her spiritual power had withered so badly that she could not even condense a single solid tail. What could she possibly use to raise a child?
But she could not bear to give it up.
The Tushan bloodline had to be continued somehow.
Even if no one knew who the father was.
Throughout the ten months of pregnancy, she fed all her remaining spiritual power to the fetus in her womb.
On the day she gave birth, the entire barrier trembled. Fengqi, Longzheng, and all the spirit monsters formed a circle around her, and no one dared even breathe too loudly.
What was born was a tiny fox no bigger than a fist.
It had a single tail covered in snow-white fur, and its eyes had not yet opened.
Tushan Yao had been in so much pain that she had nearly bitten her teeth to pieces. When she saw that soft, fluffy bundle of white, she could not describe what she felt.
In less than three days, the spiritual power inside the barrier had thinned by another layer.
The fur on the little fox began to fall out. Its four short legs turned into the arms and legs of a human infant, and in the end, it completely transformed into a six-pound, two-ounce human baby boy.
His features resembled those of his father, wherever that man might be—thick eyebrows, large eyes, and a straight nose. When he cried, his voice was full of vigor, and he bellowed so loudly that three of Grandpa Ginseng’s tendrils were shaken loose.
“This child has half yao blood and half human blood.” After examining the bloodline, Fengqi wore an extremely complicated expression.
“When his spiritual power is insufficient, he will survive in human form.”
“What about his demon core?” Longzheng asked.
“It hasn’t formed. Right now, he’s no different from an ordinary human infant.”
Tushan Yao held the child in her arms. The soft little thing had cried itself tired and was currently tugging her hair into its mouth.
“His name is Tushan Xiaobao.”
“Isn’t that name… a little too casual?”
“He’s my son. I say what his name is.”
From then on, every spirit monster inside the barrier became Tushan Xiaobao’s nanny.
Grandpa Ginseng was responsible for feeding him medicinal meals, the panda spirit was responsible for playing with him—mainly serving as a mount for him to ride—the Tuzijing was responsible for warming his bed, and Dangguijing was responsible for preparing his bathwater.
Xiaobao grew up among the spirit monsters until he was four, and he was as crafty as a thousand-year-old demon.
And the barrier had only six months left before it could no longer hold.
Tushan Yao’s body had also reached its limit.
Longzheng and Fengqi had spent three years investigating outside. At last, they had identified the “father.”
Huo Yunzheng.
A former special forces soldier, possessed of a pure-yang constitution and bearing great merit.
Tushan Yao made a decision—to leave the mountain and hand Xiaobao over to his father.
On the day they left, the barrier was filled with crying.
Grandpa Ginseng stuffed some of his tendrils into their luggage, the panda spirit stuffed in roasted bamboo shoots, and Dangguijing nearly stuffed himself into the bundle to go with them.
“Old Ancestress… will you come back?”
With the bundle on her back and Xiaobao by the hand, Tushan Yao did not turn around.
“I’ll see how I feel.”
What she did not say was that she might never have the chance to return.
The jeep bounced along the dirt road. The wind of the northern winter slipped through the gaps in the canvas and scraped painfully against their faces.
Wrapped in a padded coat, Tushan Yao huddled in the corner. Xiaobao was curled up in her arms, both hands clutching her clothing tightly, the top of his head pressed beneath her chin.
The female soldier sat across from them. While tending to the wounded soldier, she kept sneaking glances at the mother and son.
The mother was truly beautiful.
Even illness could not suppress her extraordinary bearing. If she recovered properly, she would probably leave every man in the entire military region staring in a daze.
“Comrade, which unit is your husband in? What’s his name? I can help you ask around.”
Tushan Yao did not answer.
It was not that she did not want to. She simply could not say just anything.
She was still not certain that this Huo Yunzheng was Xiaobao’s father.
Although the clues Fengqi and Longzheng had uncovered pointed to him, if they had identified the wrong person, this would not be a family visit but a huge embarrassment.
She had to see the man with her own eyes and smell that pure-yang energy before she could be sure.
Xiaobao answered for her. “Auntie, my mom’s dizzy, so she can’t talk much. Once we get to the military region, we’ll find him ourselves.”
The female soldier gave an “oh” and did not ask any more questions.
The jeep rounded a bend, and a stretch of gray compound walls and guard posts appeared in the distance.
“We’re here, we’re here! The military region’s main gate is up ahead,” the driver shouted.
Xiaobao poked his head out from Tushan Yao’s arms and leaned over the edge of the truck bed to look outside.
A large iron gate, sentries, and red stars.
The soldiers standing guard at the entrance held rifles, their expressions as solemn as iron plates.
The jeep stopped briefly at the gate. The driver exchanged a few words with the sentries. The barrier was raised, and the vehicle drove inside.
Tushan Yao opened her eyes amid the jolting.
A scent rushed toward her.
Intense and scorching, like the noonday sun crashing straight into her face.
Every pore on her body sprang open at once. The sensation was far too familiar—it was exactly the same as what she had smelled in the woods five years ago.
Pure-yang energy.
More than a thousand soldiers were stationed throughout the military region, so the atmosphere was naturally filled with strong masculine energy.
But within that heavy underlying presence, there was one aura that stood out exceptionally, domineering and unusually distinct. It was so concentrated that it seemed almost ready to spill over.
Tushan Yao’s fingertips trembled slightly.
She had found him.
The jeep braked to a stop in front of a bungalow.
The female soldier jumped down and called for people to carry the stretcher. Several medics in white coats ran out to receive the wounded soldier.
Holding on to the edge of the truck bed, Tushan Yao slowly stood up.
Xiaobao had already jumped down first. He turned around and reached up to help her.
The moment her feet touched the ground, a rapid set of footsteps approached from the direction of the training field nearby.
“What’s the wounded soldier’s condition? What happened?”
The voice was low and carried unmistakable anger.
Tushan Yao raised her head.
A man in military uniform was striding over from the direction of the training field.
He was tall and powerfully built, with broad shoulders and long legs. His uniform was stretched tight across his body.
The brim of his cap was pulled low, revealing a sharply defined face—high brow bones, a straight nose, and a jawline sharp enough to cut paper.
The pure-yang energy radiating from him was so dense that even Tushan Yao’s dantian trembled.
It was him.
Tushan Xiaobao also saw the man.
He froze for two seconds.
The eyebrows were the same.
The nose was the same.
And the way he frowned—it was exactly the same.
Xiaobao slowly turned his head and looked up at Tushan Yao.
Tushan Yao lowered her head and looked at him.
Mother and son exchanged a glance.
Huo Yunzheng strode to the entrance of the infirmary. Just as he was about to ask about the wounded soldier’s condition, the corner of his eye caught sight of the two people standing beside the jeep.
One big and one small.
The woman was pitifully thin, her face deathly pale. Standing in the wind, she looked as though she might be blown over at any moment.
The little boy had his head tipped back, staring straight at him.
That face…
Huo Yunzheng paused.
This child looked—
“Reporting, Regimental Commander!” The female soldier ran over and saluted. “This is a military dependent we encountered at the train station. She said she came to visit a family member. The child’s mother isn’t in very good health—”
Before she could finish, Tushan Yao’s vision went black, and her body pitched forward.
“Mom!” Xiaobao screamed.
He reached out to pull her back, but he could not possibly hold her.
An arm reached out from the side and caught Tushan Yao precisely around the waist.
————————————————Those who don’t like the little skit can skip it————————————————
Little Skit:
Xiaobao (staring at Huo Yunzheng): Mom, that uncle looks so fierce.
Huo Yunzheng (cold-faced): Whose child is he?
Xiaobao (pulling out a mirror for comparison): He looks just as fierce as me. I’ve confirmed it with my eyes—there’s no doubt he’s my biological father!
Huo Yunzheng: … (Inner thoughts: Why does this child look more and more pleasing to the eye?)