Chapter Fourteen: Memories of Two Lifetimes

The dense, impenetrable night was like the work of a master painter, cloaking everything in an aura of mystery. Thus, the weighty darkness gave birth to a stirring and enchanting allure.

Leaning against Max’s golden body, Leng Tian gazed up at the night sky, his eyes lost among the twinkling stars as his thoughts drifted away. The six sworn brothers, following their ages, had chosen Leng Tian as their elder; next were Yanlong, Xiao Han, Huo Wu, Zhi Xuan, and little Ke.

It was late. They had all drunk heavily. Leng Tian sent the others to rest while he took the first watch. They lay around the campfire, dry grass spread beneath them, the ground warm enough to keep the chill at bay. Max curled his massive body into a half circle, sheltering the group from the biting night wind. Leng Tian leaned against the dragon, guarding the dreams of his companions.

Staring at the brilliant stars, Leng Tian slipped into remembrance, the events of his past two lives surging over him like a tide.

“You filthy thing, get out of here! If you come back, I’ll break your legs!” An angry shout burst from a tavern. A waiter dragged a filthy little beggar out the door, tossing him onto the ground. Spitting at the child, he cursed, “You worthless wretch, do you know where you are? Begging here—you must have a death wish. Listen, from now on you’re not allowed to set foot in this place again.” With that, he kicked the beggar, sending him flying more than two meters away, then turned and stormed back inside.

A long time passed before the little beggar managed to crawl up, struggling to sit on the ground. His greasy, dirt-stained face was streaked with tears of humiliation. He looked up at the restaurant before him, sniffing the tantalizing aroma of food. His small stomach rumbled in protest. Swallowing hard, he wiped his tears with his tattered sleeve, rose shakily, and limped to a corner where a cracked, oil-stained porcelain bowl waited.

Passersby sneered at the sight of him. One said in disgust, “How is this brat still alive? He’s got a stubborn life.” Another replied, “Heh… looking at him, he won’t last much longer. Let’s go before we catch his bad luck.” They hurried away, leaving the beggar to hide his head in his knees, sobbing quietly.

“Leng Tian, you damned brat! Get up at once!” Inside a cowshed, a fat man in a thick cotton coat and sheepskin hat kicked a sleeping youth curled in a pile of hay. The boy jerked awake, tightened his threadbare coat, and asked, “Master, what do you need?”

The fat man snorted. At the sound, the boy shivered. “Get up and sweep the snow outside. Then feed the livestock.” The boy pleaded, “Can I eat first? I haven’t had anything since last night.” The fat man ignored his look, his face twisted in anger. “You ungrateful cur! If not for your grandfather’s decades of service to my father, do you think I’d keep you?” He spat as he berated the boy, who blinked back tears. “Do your chores first, then you can eat,” the man snapped, turning away.

As he left, the boy stood motionless, tears streaming down his face as he looked at his pitiful state: a pair of shoes with toes poking through, a hollow stomach cramping from hunger—so long starved that his insides felt empty. He glanced at the snow still falling outside the cowshed, his sallow face twisted with anger and despair, a flicker of hopelessness in his eyes.

Leng Tian exhaled deeply. “It really was torment. I doubt anyone has been more burdened than me; the memories of several lives just won’t fade.” What he didn’t realize was that the trials of his past lives would one day become the key to breaking into the realm of the Celestial.

“Master, I never imagined you endured such things,” Max’s voice echoed in his mind.

“Heh… You old fellow, keep watch for us. I need to cultivate.” With that, Leng Tian sat cross-legged and began his practice, gradually entering a state of tranquil clarity. His inner power flowed, drawing in the energy of heaven and earth.

Max blinked his dragon eyes and settled into his guardian role. In this desolate wilderness, with a dragon as their protector, no spirit beast would dare approach. Even ordinary warriors wouldn’t risk provoking a dragon—such folly never ended well.

Dawn arrived, the thin morning mist lingering, soft sunlight dappling the forest, painting the lush foliage with shifting shades of green. On the hillside, the grass was thick and verdant. Leng Tian opened his eyes, exhaled deeply, stood, and stretched his arms.

“Brother, you’re awake! Here’s some fruit for you.” Huo Wu approached and offered a wild berry. Leng Tian smiled as he took it. “Everyone’s up, I see!”

“Mm-hmm, we didn’t wake you since you were cultivating,” Huo Wu replied sweetly.

“Tian, brother!” Yanlong and the others returned, each carrying fruit. Leng Tian nodded, took several pieces, and said, “Let’s set out while the morning is still fresh.”

Everyone agreed, leaping onto Max’s back. Little Ke ran to the dragon’s head, tossed a handful of fruit into Max’s gaping mouth, then skipped back and nestled in Huo Wu’s arms.

Max unfurled his mighty wings and soared into the sky. The group ate fruit, admired the morning beauty, and watched as a crimson sun rose in the east.

A resounding dragon’s call echoed as Max’s colossal golden body swept swiftly across the sky, leaving a trail of gold that vanished at the horizon in moments.

Transformed and reborn by the Spirit Milk, Max had truly evolved his bloodline into that of a golden dragon. Though he had yet to break through to the ninth rank of Sacred Beast, his strength was already on par with a low-tier Sacred Beast.

By now, the sun was high. On the western fringe of the Lianyun Mountains, there nestled a small village of fewer than two hundred people—this was the place where Huo Wu and the others lived: Kaoshan Village.