Children born in small mountain villages like this usually did not have proper names.
Most were given cheap, contemptible names for convenience, and boys were no exception. His parents usually called him A Gou.
He was the village chief's son and had learned some rudimentary cultivation techniques from a young age.
With a foundation in the Martial Dao, his temperament was much more resilient than that of the other children.
After finishing his cultivation today, he had finally indulged in a little playfulness and arranged to play hide-and-seek with some of his friends in the village.
Relying on instinct, he hid inside this large vat, but because he was overly exhausted from cultivation, he soon fell into a deep sleep.
He had never expected to wake up and personally witness Chang Er Ding Guang Xian's atrocities against the village.
Having cultivated under his father since childhood, he could naturally tell that Chang Er Ding Guang Xian's strength was beyond anything they could contend with.
If he went outside, he would almost certainly be throwing his life away. Thus, despite his resilient nature,
he could only bite his lip tightly and watch Chang Er Ding Guang Xian's atrocities while desperately restraining his own aura.
Blood trickled from the corners of his mouth, yet he did not dare make the slightest sound.
The pair of eyes that had once been clear now held nothing but bone-deep hatred and towering rage.
Ding Guang Huan Xi Buddha... Western Teachings... he murmured inwardly, branding those words deep into his soul.
Only long after Chang Er Ding Guang Xian had left did A Gou tremble out of the vat.
Looking at the corpses and devastation covering the ground, he helplessly fell to his knees and let out wave after wave of grief-stricken cries.
"Father, Mother, fellow