Dai Yuhao and Leng Yaozhu!

Fifty li northwest of Star Luo City, the capital of the Star Luo Empire, stood a magnificent estate spanning more than three thousand mu—the White Tiger Duke Mansion.

From afar, its halls seemed to reach the clouds, imposing beyond measure. Up close, however, it concealed a different arrangement.

At the center of the estate stood towering pavilions adorned with carved beams and painted rafters, luxurious in every detail. Around them lay many plain courtyards where the servants lived.

Yet near the back gate on the mansion's northern side, within an inconspicuous little courtyard, lived a nominal "mistress."

The sun gradually slanted westward, and the Setting Sun's afterglow spread a lonely golden hue across the Small Courtyard.

In the courtyard, a thin little figure less than a meter tall was playing alone.

His name was Dai Yuhao, and he was the White Tiger Duke's son.

But within this Duke Mansion, not even the servants regarded this "Young Master" highly.

Dai Yuhao had only just turned three, an age when he should have been carefree and happy.

Though he had never received even the slightest treatment befitting the White Tiger Duke's son, he did not understand resentment or injustice. He simply remained content within his tiny little world.

The courtyard was small, and there were no toys that children liked, yet simply running back and forth was enough to bring a pure smile to his childish face.

"Eh?"

As he ran, he suddenly stopped.

Under the slanting evening sunlight, a faint glimmer flickered softly amid the sandy soil by the wall.

He crouched down and used his little hands to brush aside the loose soil, only to dig out a dust-covered bronze mirror.

Dai Yuhao carefully wiped the mirror surface with his sleeve. Dirt fell away in soft streams, revealing mottled patterns beneath.

Though several fine cracks ran across the mirror surface, it still clearly reflected a small face, sparse soft hair, bright eyes, and a nose dusted with dirt.

"Mom will definitely like this!"

His eyes lit up. Clutching the mirror handle, he stood and eagerly turned to run back inside.

But the instant he turned around, his entire body suddenly froze.

At some point, the light and shadow at the courtyard entrance had been blocked by several shadows.

At their head was a boy about Dai Yuhao's age, though half a head taller. His brocade clothes made his face appear rosy and plump.

His name was Dai Huabin. Mom had once told him that this was his "Older Brother."

Dai Yuhao still did not understand what "Older Brother" meant, but he did not like this older brother.

Because every time this older brother appeared, he brought unease and pain.

"What are you holding?"

Dai Huabin's voice carried its usual arrogance as he pointed directly at Dai Yuhao's tightly clenched hand.

Dai Yuhao's body trembled. Instinctively, he hid the bronze mirror closer to his chest and turned his back.

"Snatch it from him!"

Before Dai Huabin had even finished speaking, four youths of seven or eight pounced into the courtyard like wolves.

They quickly surrounded Dai Yuhao, several hands roughly reaching for the bronze mirror he was desperately protecting.

"Give it back..."

Like a startled little beast, Dai Yuhao struggled with all his strength. But amid the shoving, he was viciously kicked behind the knee and fell onto the sandy ground.

Dust rose into the air. He ignored everything else, hunching his back tightly and using his thin chest and palms to press down on the mirror.

Fists and kicks rained down, striking his ribs, pounding his shoulders and back, and scraping across his calves with shoe soles...

Their movements were practiced and their expressions numb. Clearly, this was far from the first time they had inflicted such violence.

Dai Yuhao bit down hard on his lip, trapping his whimpers deep in his throat. His fingernails nearly embedded themselves in the cracks of the mirror frame.

But he was only three years old, after all.

A rough hand clamped around his wrist and twisted hard. His knuckles let out a faint crisp crack.

The bronze mirror slipped from his suddenly loosened palm and was easily snatched away by another hand.

Dai Huabin strolled over leisurely, accepted the mirror a servant handed him, and glanced at it under the evening light.

"I thought it was some treasure."

He curled his lip, undisguised mockery appearing on his childish face. "So it's just a broken mirror."

Before his words had faded, he casually hurled the bronze mirror to the ground.

Before leaving, Dai Huabin casually raised his foot again and used the tip of his delicate boot to kick Dai Yuhao's curled-up leg, as though kicking aside a pebble blocking the road.

Only then did he leave the courtyard with the four youths as if nothing had happened.

As the footsteps receded, only slowly settling dust and the motionless, thin figure sprawled in the sandy soil remained in the courtyard.

Only after those footsteps had completely vanished beyond the courtyard did Dai Yuhao let out a suppressed cry of pain through clenched teeth.

He struggled several times before finally propping himself up with his elbows and sitting up from the ground with difficulty.

Sand clung to his hair and clothes. Every movement sent sharp pain through the places that had been kicked and beaten.

He sat there for a long time. Only after his breathing gradually steadied did he slowly move over and pick up the discarded bronze mirror.

The mirror was cold, its cracks stained with dust and his fingerprints.

He gripped the bronze mirror tightly, then limped toward the low Small House nearby.

Enduring the pain that seemed to fill his entire body, he changed out of his dirty, torn clothes and used the little water in a basin to carefully wipe away the blood seeping from the corner of his mouth and fingertips.

He was not naturally fond of cleanliness. He simply remembered that whenever Mom saw him like this, she would always turn away, her shoulders trembling slightly as restrained sobs drifted from her.

He did not want Mom to cry anymore.

After tidying himself up, he hid away the dust-stained clothes before climbing onto the hard wooden bed.

Lying flat and remaining still, the pain in his body seemed to lessen somewhat.

He turned onto his side, hugging the cold bronze mirror tightly to his chest as he stared wide-eyed at the doorway, waiting for Mom to return from work.

The light outside the window gradually dimmed, and twilight flooded into the Small House like a tide.

Pain and exhaustion stretched the wait into something endless. His eyelids grew heavier, and his consciousness slowly blurred.

At last, unable to resist the instinctive drowsiness of a child's body, he hugged the bronze mirror and slowly fell asleep.

Yet at that moment, he did not see the cracked bronze mirror in his arms tremble ever so slightly.

Immediately afterward, a cold radiance emerged, faintly flashing from the deepest crack in the mirror surface.

The moment the light faded, the bronze mirror seemed to melt into the shadows and vanished without warning.

Douluo Continent, Sun Moon Federation, Old Star Luo City.

Ten Thousand Years Ago, the Star Luo Empire was defeated by the Sun Moon Empire. In the end, the entire nation crossed the seas and established a new homeland on a distant New Continent.

The capital of that place, named Star Luo Continent, still bore the name "Star Luo."

Thus, the Original Capital City on Douluo Continent came to be known as "Old Star Luo City."

As time passed, this once incomparably illustrious capital gradually declined into obscurity after losing its status as the political heart of a nation.

Today, it remained an important city within the Sun Moon Federation, but its former brilliance was gone. It had quietly fallen from the ranks of the continent's foremost cities and was now merely a second-tier city.

That day, the Spirit Pagoda High-Level Personnel were conducting a routine inspection. The one visiting the Old Star Luo City Branch Tower was none other than Leng Yaozhu, Vice Tower Master of the headquarters.

After the inspection, accompanied by the local Tower Master and two Vice Tower Masters, she was preparing to leave.

Yet just as she stepped out through the Spirit Pagoda's grand gates, Leng Yaozhu abruptly halted.

On the ground only a few steps ahead of her, a small figure had appeared out of nowhere.

With her cultivation at the Quasi-Demigod level, she had completely failed to notice when or how this figure had appeared.

The three Branch Tower High-Level Personnel accompanying her also noticed the abnormal presence. One of them stiffened and instinctively moved to investigate, only to be silently stopped by Leng Yaozhu's raised hand.

Her gaze fell upon the figure. It was a child of perhaps three or four, dressed in simple black cloth, curled on his side upon the ground as though deeply asleep.

Leng Yaozhu's eyes narrowed slightly. She stepped forward, slowly crouched down, and gently picked up the child.

Her keen senses swept over him in an instant. There was not the slightest trace of Soul Power fluctuations. This appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary child.

Yet the faint bruises visible beneath the black cloth, along with the minor wounds and dried blood at the child's mouth and knuckles, made her gaze suddenly darken.

Who could have laid such cruel hands upon a child so young? A trace of heartache flashed through her eyes.

The child shifted slightly in her arms, as though sensing this unfamiliar warmth. In his sleep, he unconsciously murmured, "...Mom."

That blurred call was extremely soft, yet Leng Yaozhu's body stiffened almost imperceptibly.

An immensely complicated emotion flooded her heart. If she and Yun Ming had been able to end up together back then, perhaps... she, too, would have had such a soft little life nestled in her arms, calling her Mom with such dependence.

She lowered her eyes to gaze at the child's scarred yet peacefully sleeping face, a thoughtful look flashing through her eyes.

She raised her head and said to those behind her, "Prepare a room for me."

The three Branch Tower High-Level Personnel behind her quickly exchanged glances, but none of them asked a single question.

They immediately bowed in acknowledgment, then turned to lead the way, surrounding Leng Yaozhu as she carried the child back through the Spirit Pagoda's gates.

What had made Leng Yaozhu suddenly change her plans was not solely the tenderness stirred by that unconscious cry of "Mom."

A young child with no Soul Power fluctuations, covered in injuries, had somehow broken through her senses in such a bizarre manner and appeared out of thin air before the Spirit Pagoda's gates... This was neither coincidence nor anything ordinary.

The child's very appearance was a mystery that could not be ignored.

She had to find out who this child was, why he had appeared before her in this manner, and whether some intention or scheme lay hidden behind it.