Intrigued by the fragile, almost imperceptible wail of a baby, the riders, after a silent exchange, decided to investigate the source of the sound.
After what felt like an eternity, yet was likely only a short while in the vastness of the forest, the bone dragon landed gently near the ancient oak.
The riders dismounted, their footsteps barely disturbing the damp earth as they approached the hollow where Xiaosheng lay. secured to the tree trunk, they found a scrap of cloth; the name "Xiaosheng," painstakingly written, was smudged with dried blood, a grim testament to the mother's desperate act of identification. The baby, shivering despite the warmth of the hollow, stopped crying and stared up at them with...
A slight widening of those eyes, a barely perceptible lift of his brow, hinted at a quiet surprise, as his gaze darted between the towering bone dragon and the figures of the riders. His gaze then settled on the intricate details of the dragon's bleached bone frame, seemingly unfazed by its imposing size.
The riders paused beside the hollow, a moment of silent contemplation passing between them before the weight of the situation settled—a tiny, vulnerable human child, discovered in such an unlikely place. A wave of unexpected tenderness washed over them as they looked at the small, frail form.
A shared look passed between them, unspoken questions hanging in the air as they considered their next move.
Finally, a decision was reached. For now, they would take the child back to the sect. Gently, one of the riders scooped up Xiaosheng, surprisingly still and quiet in their arms, a tiny hand instinctively clutching at the rider's cloak.
Together they mounted the bone dragon, beginning the journey back, the vast forest falling away behind them.
The rhythmic beat of the dragon's wings filled the air, a counterpoint to the silence within the riders' hearts. The first light of dawn was painting the eastern sky in pale washes of pink and gold as they neared the familiar landmarks of the forest's edge.
Then, a short distance from where they had found the baby, a sight stopped them short.
In a small clearing, bathed in the early morning light, they saw a woman's body lying still on the ground. Closer inspection revealed deep, ragged cuts across her arms, the flesh torn and bleeding freely. A massive contusion, the size of a fist, discolored her temple, and a gruesome gash ran across her cheek, exposing bone. Her clothes were ripped and stained crimson, and a trail of blood, now darkening in the growing light, snaked away from her body into the undergrowth. The brutality of the scene was shocking, the violence stark and undeniable.
The riders dismounted, approaching the dead body. The proximity to the spot where they'd found Xiaosheng only heightened the grimness of the discovery.
As they drew closer, a grim silence fell between them as they considered the implications. Xiaosheng, nestled in the arms of one of the riders, stirred. His delicate features, the soft curve of his cheek, and the way his tiny hand instinctively clutched at the rider's cloak struck a chord of unsettling familiarity. Xiaosheng, they noted, bore a slight resemblance to the dead body of the girl they were seeing.
A low whimper escaped his lips, quickly escalating into a wail that was less a cry of pain and more a desperate, wordless call for the missing warmth of his mother's embrace.
It was a sound of profound loss, a tiny voice echoing the vast emptiness left by her absence. His small body trembled, his cries punctuated by shuddering breaths, a desperate attempt to fill the void left by the woman now lying still in the clearing.
His tiny fists clenched tight, as if trying to grasp at the fading memory of her touch. The riders exchanged a look, a silent question passing between them.
The riders gently covered the woman's body with a spare cloak.
The mystery of her death, coupled with the presence of the child and the horrifying nature of her injuries, weighed heavily on their hearts. They had found the child, but the discovery cast a long shadow over their return, transforming it into a somber procession, the weight of the unspoken tragedy and unanswered questions heavy upon them. The proximity of the dead body to the place where they found Xiaosheng only amplified the sense of unease and mystery.
The journey back felt longer, the silence more profound, the rhythmic beat of the dragon's wings a mournful dirge.
Xiaosheng cries, though heartbreaking, were a stark reminder of the life that remained, a life they were now bound to protect, and the unanswered questions surrounding the woman's death, and the unspeakable violence inflicted upon her, hung heavy in the air.
Three years since I was reborn into this world—a world I once knew only as fiction, the world of Douluo Dalu, a place teeming with soul power, martial souls, and legendary Soul Beasts.
Before this, I was just a normal eighteen-year-old. One afternoon, leaving school, I saw a child about to be hit by a truck. Without hesitation, I ran to save them. I succeeded, but the truck struck me, and I died.
Then, I awoke to find myself in a hollow tree, the rain falling around me. A girl was there, placing me in my sheltered spot—the very spot where I would later be found by Gu Rong, Grandpa Bone, and Ning Fengzhi.
But it may have been sheer luck, a stroke of fate perhaps, that I was discovered that day. It wasn't just any riders who found me; it was Gu Rong, the formidable Bone Douluo, and Ning Fengzhi.
Their intervention, a twist of fortune in a cruel world, saved me from a fate far worse than the loss of my mother.
Now, I live within the high, protective walls of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan, nestled amongst the meticulously kept gardens and elegant buildings, surrounded by the warmth of a found family who welcomed me into their home.