Two months passed as he grew accustomed to the environment, the language, and the culture. The language sounded similar to Chinese, yet it was not truly of that world. It came from ancient scriptures, and each region spoke its own tongue. During this time, he learned that they lived in a small village near the bustling city of Liuyin. Their house stood farther from the others, closer to the mountains.
His father was a carpenter. His mother made jewelry as a hobby, though she occasionally sold her work. When he was three months old, a messenger from the noble Xie Clan arrived at their home. Every young man was required to participate as a soldier in the civil war that had erupted between the Shihao Kingdom and the Baixuan Kingdom, a conflict born from the disharmony among Shihao's sects.
After his father left, less than a month passed before the village was raided by bandits. With all the young men gone to war, only the elderly, women, and children remained. The bandits slaughtered the village, killing everyone in sight, even the children.
Qingfeng held Xuan Ling tightly. She was terrified, tears streaming down her face, yet she made no sound. When she heard approaching footsteps, she hid Xuan Ling beneath a cooking pot behind her. She kissed his forehead and whispered, "Please don't cry, my baby. Mother will protect you."
She stood in front of the pot, unmoving.
The bandits entered.
They tortured Qingfeng, violated her, and killed her, all in front of her three-month-old son. Xuan Ling's mind and spirit broke, yet he did not cry. He remained hidden, silent, and still until the bandits finally left after taking anything of value.
When it was over, he crawled out from beneath the pot. He crawled toward his mother, the woman who was meant to love him and grant him a peaceful life. He had known her for only three months, yet he had grown attached to her as his true mother. Even with memories of his past life, he had been nothing more than a late teenager when he died. This was too much for him.
The new life he had been given collapsed before his eyes.
He stared blankly at Qingfeng's severed head, powerless and incapable of doing anything.
**Xuan Ling's POV**
Why is this happening?
Why?
Why?
Why??
Why does it keep happening to me?
What did i do so wrong to deserve this? Gods, heavens above, what is my fault that i must suffer even in this life? She was innocent. She was kind. Why kill her so brutally? Why?
As these emotions overwhelmed him, sounds escaped his throat without his awareness. He began to scream and cry. Fortunately, the bandits were already gone, scattered throughout the village to loot what remained. They would not return to this distant house.
As he cried aloud, one of the patrolling city guards who arrived after the bandits had left heard the sound. The guard followed it and discovered Xuan Ling, then brought him before the head guard, reporting that there was a survivor.
The head guard looked at the child with pity. He then revealed the truth: the men taken from this village had all been assigned to the Sixth Unit, a unit that had been completely wiped out by a first-rate martial artist from Baixuan. Now he knows his father is dead as well.