Everything before Wen Qingya was so unexpected that he stood in a daze for a moment before speaking to the old man.
"Senior, I don't think he was cursing at you... I think it was more like..."
Before Wen Qingya could finish, the old man raised his hand to interrupt.
"Don't worry. I won't harm the boy. I'm here to deliver an opportunity to him, not to hurt him. Sigh, what a bitter fate I have—to be this old and still running errands."
He paused, then continued, "This boy has a mortal body, weak and untrained. But the heavenly river flowing through these Hundred-Thousand-Mile Monster Mountains isn't so simple. The spiritual energy of Mount Malin gathers in that river, making its water incredibly potent. Yet, aside from me, no one else could utilize it this way. I'm helping the boy undergo a baptism."
Wen Qingya finally relaxed and apologized slightly. "Forgive me, Senior. For some reason, I feel a strange sense of shared origin with him, so I couldn't help but worry."
The old man waved it off, unconcerned. "It's fine. Your fates are intertwined. Make sure to walk this path with him... in the days to come." He pointed to the sky meaningfully.
Wen Qingya caught his meaning and cautiously asked, "May I know your name, Senior? Can you see through my origins as well?"
The old man chuckled. "Names are just labels. You can call me the White-Bearded Elder. It's unlikely we'll meet again. But how could I not know your roots? I have a descendant—Guiling."
Wen Qingya was struck like thunder from the clear sky. His heart roared with waves of emotion, and he gasped sharply. Just as he was about to kneel and bow, the elder waved his hand, and Wen Qingya found himself unable to move.
The old man released him and spoke solemnly. "Keep today's meeting to yourself. If others find out, it could bring disaster. Our meeting is fate—I'll give you a hint."
Wen Qingya bowed deeply. "I shall remember the teachings of the Great Lord and Supreme One."
The old man nodded and whispered, "In time, a noble will aid you. The chance to free your true self lies in your hands."
Wen Qingya looked in disbelief at the boy in the river—Xin Xiaoqi—his body battered by the turbulent waters of the demon river.
The old man went on, "I'll leave him a sword and a book. Once I'm gone, pass them to him."
As he finished, a brocade pouch floated toward Wen Qingya. He took it and saw it was a Zhenkun Bag, capable of storing all things. Inside were indeed a sword and a book!
Wen Qingya bowed again. "As the Great Lord commands."
The elder nodded in satisfaction, then suddenly turned to the void and shouted, "Insolence!"
Wen Qingya was startled but didn't understand. A moment later, the old man shook his head and smiled, "It's time I left... the world's about to descend into chaos."
He grabbed a roasted giant eagle leg, glanced at Wen Qingya's curious gaze, and chuckled.
"This meat is useless to me, but amusing. Just like how immortals wear robes—not for need, but because it suits their presence."
Before leaving, he added, "There's a wild mosquito-dragon in the water, on the verge of transforming into a dragon. Use its blood to soak the boy's body."
Without waiting for a response, the old man vanished.
Wen Qingya sighed with relief. Looking back at Xin Xiaoqi in the water, he saw the boy unconscious, his body riddled with tiny holes from the rushing current. Within those holes, a faint spiritual glow could be sensed.
Just then, a massive, table-sized mouth emerged from the river—it was the mosquito-dragon the old man mentioned. It had hidden, intimidated by the elder's presence, but now that the elder was gone and a human was floating in its territory, it attacked in fury.
Wen Qingya cried out and used a movement technique to instantly appear beside the creature. With a black thorn in hand, he stabbed at its head.
The creature, enraged, twisted its massive body and smashed its mountain-sized head at Wen Qingya.
Seeing the attack coming, Wen Qingya raised his black thorn to defend himself.
A thunderous boom echoed as the beast struck. Wen Qingya was blasted backward, his internal organs nearly shaken apart by the force.
Grimacing, he muttered, "This isn't my true body, but even so, this won't do."
Unleashing the innate aura of his ancient, primordial heritage, he glared at the mosquito-dragon. The beast was about to press the attack but suddenly froze, overwhelmed by the ancient, desolate force radiating from Wen Qingya.
It felt the presence of mountains of corpses and seas of blood around this man.
Terrified, it turned to flee, but at the last second, it still tried to devour Xin Xiaoqi in a final strike.
Wen Qingya was caught off guard—he hadn't expected the beast to move so fast. It was already close to Xin Xiaoqi.
Just as despair gripped Wen Qingya—
A flash of white light tore through the air.
The mosquito-dragon's eyes shattered like tofu, and its body was torn into pieces. Blood gushed like a geyser, painting the sky.
Wen Qingya stood stunned, silently marveling at the old man's hidden power.
Then he noticed the blood in the air—he quickly recalled the old man's words.
Xin Xiaoqi had a very long dream.
In it, the world was ending. An old immortal built a Noah's Ark and invited him aboard with friends, family, and favorite celebrity crushes. But the ship was full. No more passengers allowed.
Then that traffic cop woman appeared again—more yelling, then a brutal over-the-shoulder throw. The pain was unimaginable.
Xin Xiaoqi awoke screaming.
The first thing he noticed was the overwhelming stench of blood. Rubbing his eyes, he found himself lying in a massive pool of it.
Looking around, he realized he was in a stone cavern.
Behind him, Wen Qingya sat in meditation. Seeing him awake, he said calmly, "Number Seven, you're finally up?"
Xin Xiaoqi rolled his eyes internally. "Number Seven?" But dared not speak back.
Instead, he asked weakly, "What happened to me? What is this? What am I soaking in?"
Wen Qingya smirked, "Pig's blood, of course. You cursed at the old immortal and got stabbed full of holes. I had to fill you back up with something."
Seeing Xin Xiaoqi's disgusted face, Wen Qingya got angry. "Are you mocking me?"
Out of nowhere, he pulled out a whip and lashed it toward Xin Xiaoqi. The boy shrieked and fled, butt-naked and panicked.
Suddenly feeling a chill, Xin Xiaoqi covered himself in embarrassment.
Wen Qingya snorted. "Shy now? I've already seen it all. It's nothing compared to the tail of that whip."
Xin Xiaoqi shouted, "Enough! Kill me if you must, but don't humiliate me!"
Wen Qingya rolled his eyes and threw him a book. "The old immortal left this for you."
Xin Xiaoqi stopped his tantrum and flipped open the book.
He scoffed, "What is this? Calisthenics?"
But as he kept reading, his expression began to change...
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