Dai Mubai raised a hand and gently rubbed the head of the fuming Xiao Wu in his arms. His touch was as tender as if he were petting a puffed-up kitten.
"In a parallel world, there are countless possibilities."
"It is precisely the mediocrities who make the strong seem all the more precious, isn't that right?"
"He can kneel if he wants."
"I only care about conquering this world."
He spoke those words as casually as if they were nothing.
Yet they carried an air of detachment, as though he looked down upon all living beings.
In an instant, the anger in the women's hearts died down.
That was right.
Why get angry over that loser?
Their emperor was destined to surpass even the God King!
Just then.
Golden light surged across the Sky Screen once more.
[The comparison continues!]
[White World: White Emperor of Heaven—Dai Mubai's childhood!]
The scene shifted.
At last, it was the White World's turn.
The first scene was also one of a birth.
The Star Luo Imperial Palace glittered with gold and jade.
The Old Emperor laughed heartily and rewarded his ministers.
This scene was almost identical to the Black World's.
Next came scenes from his early childhood.
He, too, had grown up surrounded by maids and eunuchs, living in silken robes and fine foods amid the height of luxury.
Seeing this.
The people on the Black World's side, who had still been feeling somewhat aggrieved, immediately felt as though they had seized a lifeline.
"Tch!"
Ma Hongjun was the first to jump out. Pointing at the Sky Screen, he called out mockingly:
"I don't see much difference!"
"Wasn't he born with a silver spoon in his mouth too? Didn't he have a whole crowd of people waiting on him?"
"Looks to me like he's just the pot calling the kettle black!"
Tang San's lips curled up as well, and the unease in his heart eased considerably.
It seemed the starting lines in these so-called parallel worlds were all the same.
And if they started from the same line, their paths to developing their personalities shouldn't be all that different either.
"Just watch."
"I bet next he'll be playing in the mud and skipping classes."
"He might even be more mischievous than our version."
The people of the Black World all waited for a laugh.
They were eager to see that "White Emperor" make a fool of himself and restore some of their own peace of mind.
However.
When the Star Luo powerhouses from the White World heard their mockery, strange smiles appeared on their faces.
No difference?
What a bunch of frogs in a well!
Once you see what comes next, I hope your jaws don't hit the floor!
As everyone waited in anticipation.
The timeline on the Sky Screen sped forward.
Soon.
It stopped at the year Dai Mubai turned three.
[White World, Dai Mubai at three years old.]
In the scene.
There was no game of hide-and-seek in the Imperial Garden.
Nor was there a scene of him bullying a maid.
Instead, there stood a solemn, stately hall—the Political Affairs Hall of the Star Luo Empire!
Dai Mubai was only three years old.
He was still very small, with chubby cheeks that made him look rather adorable.
But he wasn't wearing some gaudy brocade robe.
Instead, he wore a neat white training outfit.
He didn't ask to be carried or to ride on someone's back.
Step by step, he walked into the hall on his short, steady legs.
In those distinctive Evil Eyes of his.
There was none of a child's innocence or naivety.
Instead...
They held a maturity that had no place in a three-year-old child!
In the hall.
The Star Luo Emperor watched his youngest son walk in, looking somewhat surprised. He asked with a smile:
"Mubai?"
"Why aren't you out playing? What are you doing here?"
"Do you want a new toy?"
At his father's question.
Little Dai Mubai stopped.
He lifted his head and looked straight at the man who held the empire's power in his hands.
He neither bowed nor acted coy.
He simply raised one finger, his voice childish yet perfectly clear:
"Father."
"I want to enter the Imperial Armory."
The Star Luo Emperor froze. "The armory? It's full of military texts and cultivation manuals. It's dull and boring. What do you want to go in there for?"
Little Dai Mubai clasped his hands behind his back.
At that moment.
An invisible aura seemed to emanate from his tiny body.
"I want to read."
"Learn the Killing Technique."
"Master the Imperial Art."
Those few short words.
Struck like thunder!
The Sky Screen froze on the child's face, small yet full of authority.
The Black World.
Inside the Heaven Dou Camp, countless pairs of eyes widened like copper bells. The gloomy atmosphere left by the earlier incident of "licking shoes" was instantly shattered by this startling scene.
"Three years old?"
"Are you kidding me?"
A Soul Elder in charge of logistics nearly dropped his eyes out of their sockets. The spatula in his hand clattered to the ground:
"He wants to enter the armory at three? And learn the Killing Technique?"
"My kid was still wetting the bed at three!"
"Exactly! What three-year-old talks like that? Is he some kind of monster in disguise?"
The soldiers chattered among themselves, their voices full of disbelief.
In their understanding, Martial Soul Awakening happened at six.
Before the age of six, children were meant to enjoy their childhood—to play and grow strong.
Starting to learn about fighting and killing at three was simply unthinkable!
In the middle of the crowd.
Dai Mubai had still been trying to justify his own "kneeling" just moments earlier. Now, after seeing this scene, his expression turned even stranger.
"Impossible."
Dai Mubai shook his head without thinking, suspicion filling his Evil Eyes:
"Absolutely impossible."
"The Star Luo Imperial Family's armory holds profound texts and blueprints."
"A three-year-old can barely recognize all the characters. What could he possibly understand in there?"
"He's just putting on an act!"
He knew exactly what he himself had been like at that age.
Forget entering the armory—so long as no one forced him to memorize books, he'd have done anything else.
Tang San stood nearby, his brows slightly furrowed.
Though he possessed the memories of his previous life in the Tang Sect and was a bona fide Transmigrator.
When he thought back to when he was three.
He had already started cultivating the Mysterious Heaven Skill, but all he did was climb to the mountain peak each morning to absorb that faint wisp of purple energy.
The rest of the time, he still had to eat and sleep obediently and help his father with odd jobs.
For the White Emperor in the scene to ask to learn the "Imperial Art" and the "Killing Technique" at three.
That was far too abnormal.
"This temperament is indeed a little too precocious."
Tang San gave his quiet assessment, his tone carrying a hint of disdain.
Too much cleverness leads to an early grave.
That was an old saying.
Yu Xiaogang, who had kept his hands clasped behind his back, finally found a chance to speak.
A look that said he had long since seen through everything appeared on his stiff face. His gaze swept over the shocked people around him as he spoke in a low voice:
"Everyone, there's no need to panic, and no need to envy him."
"This may not be a good thing."
Grandmaster's voice was not loud, but carried an air of "authority" that made people trust him.
Everyone turned to look at him.
Yu Xiaogang thoroughly enjoyed being the center of attention. He cleared his throat and continued:
"Soul Master cultivation requires gradual progress."
"A three-year-old child's meridians have yet to fully develop, and his bones are extremely fragile."
"At that age, the most important things are nourishing the body and preserving an innocent heart, laying the foundation for Martial Soul Awakening in the future."
At this, Yu Xiaogang pointed at the white-clad child on the Sky Screen and shook his head:
"To expose himself to the arts of killing so early, and to exhaust his mind studying imperial power and intrigue at such a young age..."
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