The young man looked to be in his forties a stark contrast to his handsome face, which currently wore an expression of sheer panic. His eyes, too pure and clear, held a naive, unworldly quality, much like that of a child.
“Don’t… don’t chase me…”
He mumbled in terror, glancing back at his pursuers. Tripping over a small mound of dirt, his sturdy frame fell with a heavy thud.
“It hurts… Momo hurts…”
His palm was cut by a jagged stone, and the simple-minded young man couldn’t help it; tears fell from his eyes like broken pearls. He wailed, completely forgetting the fact that he was being chased.
Soon, a dozen youths at the Foundation Establishment stage caught up and immediately began kicking and punching him.
“Stupid idiot! How dare you kick me? Beat him to death! If he dies, it’s on me!”
The leading youth was incredibly arrogant, landing the most vicious blows. The others, filled with excitement, pummeled the simpleton like a sandbag.
It hurts… It hurts so much…
The simpleton kept wailing and whimpering, curled into a ball, his clenched fists digging deep into the dirt. As he gripped the ground, something small and colder than the soil fell into his hand.
It was too painful; he bit his lip until it bled, clutching the object so tightly that it pierced his skin and sank into his palm. His blood stained the thin scale, and as if sensing something, the scale began to emit a faint glow.
As the simpleton’s breath grew weaker and weaker, the light suddenly intensified.
“What is that?!” the youths exclaimed, shielding their faces as they were blinded by the glare.
After a few seconds, the light vanished. They looked nervously at the simpleton curled in the dirt.
“Hey, is he dead?” The leading youth instinctively raised his foot to kick him again.
But the simpleton previously sturdy but sluggish seemed like a different person. With lightning speed, he grabbed the youth’s slender ankle.
Crack!
The ankle was snapped clean by the simpleton’s grip!
Impossible! He was a genius at the Foundation Establishment stage! This simpleton didn’t even know how to draw qi into his body!
The youth’s eyes widened in shock before he let out a delayed scream: “It hurts! Damn it, let go! What are you all standing there for? Hit him! Beat him to death!”
“Stupid idiot, you’re courting death!” The others rolled up their sleeves, ready to strike again.
But the “simpleton” suddenly lifted his head. His dirty face obscured his true features, but his eyes were cold, wise, and profound. The crowd was shocked to find that the aura emanating from him had changed. A single glance was enough to make one’s heart run cold!
Wh-what is going on?! The youths retreated in fear, looking at each other in confusion.
“What are you doing? Hurry up and do it! My foot… it hurts so much!” the youth whose ankle was grabbed screamed in anger. He was the favored youngest son of Elder Hong; if he complained to his father, they would all be in deep trouble. He’s just an idiot who can’t even speak properly—why are we afraid of him?
Summoning their courage, they shouted and charged at the “simpleton.” But they had no idea that the “simpleton” had upgraded. They were facing Su Mo, the man who, a thousand years ago, had been invincible, with hands stained by the blood of countless enemies!
“Oww…” “So… so painful! Is this idiot crazy?!” “Let go, let go… I was wrong, I was wrong, Grandfather!”
Half a quarter of an hour later, the forest echoed with wails of agony. Su Mo stood with his hands behind his back, looking like a veteran cadre, observing the group of rascals kneeling before him, their hands raised.
“Answer my questions obediently. If I am satisfied, I will let you go,” he said, his brow slightly furrowed.
“And if you aren’t satisfied?” one youth asked timidly.
Su Mo paused for a second and slowly raised his fist. Seeing the size of his iron-like palm, the youths shivered and nodded frantically: “Ask! We will answer everything! We’ll make sure you’re satisfied!”
“How is the war against the spirit beasts in Feng Capital? Are there many civilian casualties? Did the Emperor and Concubine Xian get hurt?” Su Mo asked, his face full of anxiety.
“Huh?”
The youths looked utterly bewildered, as if they were hearing a fantasy tale. Seeing him lift his fist, they hurriedly covered their heads. “Don’t hit us, don’t hit us… No… are you doing this on purpose, idiot? We understand the words you’re saying separately, but we have no idea what they mean together! What Feng Capital? What Emperor or Concubine Xian? Are you talking about storybooks?”
They don’t know?! Su Mo’s eyes widened. Have I entered a different world?
As he stood there confused, one youth seemed to remember something and asked timidly: “Uh… the Emperor and the spirit beast war in Feng Capital… that wouldn’t happen to be from a thousand years ago, would it?”
A… a thousand years?! Su Mo almost choked on his own saliva.
“So, there is an Emperor Wen Muli, a Concubine Xian Yan Yichen, and a place called Feng Capital, right?”
“They existed, sure, but that Mad Emperor only exists in legends… no one has ever seen him…” a youth muttered, pouting.
Mad Emperor?! Su Mo was stunned, his mind filled with a hundred question marks. If he was still in the cultivation world, why did this plot completely contradict the one the “Eighth Master” had given him?
No, that’s not right. The plot had started to deviate even before he died!
Su Mo shuddered, suddenly recalling his final moments. According to the plot, although Wen Muli killed the level-28 earth beast, he was severely wounded and fell into a coma, thereby missing the great war of Feng Capital. After Su Mo died in a suicide attack to take down Zhou Jian, the mantis-stalks-the-cicada-the-oriole-is-behind, the demon army would strike. Yan Yichen, who had been collaborating with the demons, would see the displaced people and eventually have a change of heart, betraying the demons at the critical moment to repair the city-protecting formation at the cost of his own energy.
His own death would expose the plot, and afterwards, Yan Yichen and Wen Muli would embark on a tortured romance, (mutual torment), playing the “you-run-I-chase” game. The little girl he had let go, Xiao Xiao, would become the greatest villain in the book, turning against the human realm to avenge him. After becoming the Demon Empress, she would set trap after trap to kill Wen Muli. Yet, through twists of fate, this would become the catalyst for the deepening of Wen Muli and Yan Yichen’s relationship. After a century of loving and killing, they would finally put down their hatred and join forces to repel the enemy.
The Demon Empress would be defeated, and Wen Muli would make Yan Yichen his Empress, writing a legendary romance!
The problem is: Wen Muli shouldn’t have appeared when he died!
Why did things deviate? Could it be that the plot has been completely twisted ever since then?
Su Mo shivered deeply, his doubts growing. If the plot was truly destroyed, why hadn’t the Eighth Master erased him, but instead allowed him to be reborn?
Don’t tell me he still expects me to set things right… That would be better off just erasing me quickly!