Reader's Prologue — The Child Heaven Forgot
He was not born of love.
He was born of sacrifice.
Not chosen. Not blessed. Not meant to survive.
But still… he came.
Before the first breath, there was Chaos.
Not void.
Not silence.
But a screaming storm of hunger and gods.
From within it, the Great Dao awakened—not to rule, but to divide. It carved law from madness. Gave shape to the unshaped. And from its sorrow was born Pangu, the axe-bearer, the breaker of sky.
With one strike, he sundered everything.
From his bones, mountains.
From his breath, the wind.
From his blood, rivers.
And from his corpse—
Heaven.
But Heaven was not grateful.
Heaven did not mourn its maker.
It became cold.
Rigid.
It chose the blessed, the destined, the root-born.
And damned the rest.
In silence, the world forgot the cost of creation.
But deep within the stars, something stirred.
A memory.
A wound.
A child.
He had no fate.
He bore no heavenly seal.
Only a name etched into the marrow of the cosmos.
Ziwei.
He is not a hero.
He is the silence between heartbeats.
The ache in a forgotten grave.
The fury that softens into resolve.
He will not beg the heavens for justice.
He will climb them.
If Heaven locks its gates,
he will break them with bleeding fists.
If saints hoard destiny,
he will forge a path from pain.
This is a story of rebellion, not salvation.
Of love found not in blood, but in loss.
Of a child who calls a corpse Father.
And a world that will one day kneel before the boy it once ignored.
This is Honghuang: Ziwei, Supreme Emperor of Heaven and Earth
The tale of a forgotten son…
…and the mountain that remembers him.