Brother Niu, You're Actually the Demon King?!

"Mother, I'm not hungry."

"You're such a big lad, and you're not hungry?"

"I'm really not."

Su Zhaowan looked at him, her gaze gentle.

"Then tell me, what happened?"

Su Mo began to recount.

He spoke of the awakening ceremony, the Confucius Martial Soul, the infusion of holy light, and the sudden growth.

He tried to keep his tone light, even gesturing when he mentioned "two point two meters," his arms stretching out until they nearly brushed the walls on either side.

Su Zhaowan listened, occasionally asking a question or offering a smile.

When Su Mo finished, she fell silent for a moment.

Then she asked, "Did it hurt?"

Su Mo was taken aback.

"Just now, when you grew," Su Zhaowan said, looking at him. "Did it hurt?"

Su Mo opened his mouth.

He wanted to say it didn't.

But he remembered the moment his bones cracked and popped, the agony of his muscles tearing and knitting back together, and the muffled groan that had escaped his lips.

"A little," he said.

Su Zhaowan nodded.

She didn't say anything like "my heart aches for you, my son."

She simply reached out and gently patted his knee; it was all she could reach now.

"Don't force yourself in the future," she said. "If it hurts, tell me. Mother is listening."

Su Mo felt a sting in his nose.

He lowered his head, burying his face in the shadows, and gave a muffled, "Mm."

The room was quiet for a while.

Outside the window, the Big Black Ox let out a "moo," likely hungry.

Su Zhaowan smiled. "Little Black hasn't eaten yet, go feed him."

Su Mo stood up and walked toward the door.

"Oh, right," Su Zhaowan's voice came from behind him. "Little Mo."

"Yes?"

"No matter what you become, you are still Mother's son."

Su Mo paused.

He didn't turn around.

"Mm."

Then, stooping low, he went outside.

In the courtyard, the Big Black Ox was watching him with eager eyes.

Su Mo walked over and grabbed a bundle of hay from the stack.

He used too much force, and the hay scattered.

He crouched down to pick it up.

His hands were too big, and the hay was too small.

After a long while, he had only managed to pick up three stalks.

The Big Black Ox looked at him, its expression complex.

"Moo." (Are you even capable of this?)

Su Mo glared at it.

Then, he simply pushed the entire haystack into the feeding trough.

The Big Black Ox looked at the mountain of hay, then back at him, and silently took a step back.

"Moo." (Heh heh, I was only joking.)

Su Mo clapped his hands together and stood up.

The evening breeze blew past, carrying the scent of the fields.

He stood in the courtyard, watching the dim, yellow light spilling from the house.

Su Zhaowan cleared the table under the lamplight, her movements slow; because of her crippled legs, she had to brace herself against the wheelchair to reach. Yet, she hummed an unknown tune, her voice soft and gentle.

Su Mo watched that back.

He remembered his past life.

The cold, hard bed in the orphanage, the food in the cafeteria that was never enough, and the nights when no one waited for him to come home.

He remembered Lin Xiaowu.

If she were still alive, someone would probably be waiting for her to come home, too.

He remembered the last thought that crossed his mind as he fell from the third floor—

At least, she can keep on living.

Now.

He had a home.

There was someone waiting for him to eat.

No matter what he turned into, she still said, "You are Mother's son."

Su Mo sniffled.

Big Black Ox nudged closer, rubbing its head against him.

Su Mo looked down at it.

Big Black Ox blinked.

"Moo." (It's alright, I'm your brother too.)

Su Mo smiled.

He patted the ox's head.

"If you've cooled off enough, go back to my room and sleep."

He then turned and walked into the house.

"Mother, I'm going to town tomorrow to rent out books and earn some more money."

"Alright."

"I'll get your medicine."

"I know."

"Once I get stronger, I'll find a great doctor to heal your legs."

Su Zhaowan paused.

Then, she said softly:

"Alright."

Her voice carried a smile.

And also a hint of bitterness, difficult to detect.

The night deepened.

Su Mo lay on the bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

His two-meter-twenty frame took up far too much space; he had tried every position.

Curled up, his legs wouldn't straighten; lying on his side, his arm hung off the bed; lying flat, his feet were pressed directly against the wall.

After struggling for a long time, he finally figured out the trick.

Contract.

With a thought, that massive, muscular body deflated like a punctured ball, shrinking at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Two meters twenty, two meters, one meter eighty, one meter fifty...

In the end, a normal six-year-old child appeared on the bed—fair, clean, thin, and small—a completely different person from the mountain of muscle he had been during the day.

Su Mo let out a long breath and stretched his limbs.

This body was much more comfortable.

He sat up, ready to sleep, when he suddenly remembered something.

The "Dao" character that had burned hot on the back of his right hand when he tested his soul power during the day.

He raised his hand, examining it carefully under the moonlight streaming through the window.

The back of his hand was smooth and clear; there was nothing there.

But when he closed his eyes and reached out with his mind to touch that spot—

Hum.

The world changed.

Su Mo opened his eyes to find himself standing before a massive building.

The familiar silhouette, the familiar main entrance, the familiar steps.

This was the library from his past life.

He pushed the doors open and stepped inside.

The first-floor lobby was empty, with bookshelves arranged neatly, filled with every book he had written over the past two years—from Battle Through the Heavens to Romance of the Three Kingdoms, from Journey to the West to Armor Hero, a complete collection, perfectly ordered.

"So..." Su Mo murmured, "this is my second martial soul?"

He walked to the front desk, the place where the librarian should have been, but instead, a thick ledger lay there.

Two large characters were written on the cover:

Book of Dao

Su Mo flipped to the first page.

Characters appeared automatically, dense and packed, all of them reading records from the past two years—

[Shallow Reading Records]

Zhang San read Martial Universe, gained Happiness +1, feedback to host: Happiness +1.

Li Si read Battle Through the Heavens, gained Satisfaction +1, feedback to host: Satisfaction +1.

Wang Gougou Bing read The Deer and the Cauldron, gained Desire +1, feedback to host: Desire +1.

As Su Mo read on, his expression grew subtle.

No wonder he had felt inexplicably happy while writing these past two years; it wasn't a sense of accomplishment after all, but these readers "tipping" him with emotions.

He continued to flip through, the corners of his mouth curling upward.

This function was excellent.

The readers enjoyed the books, and he enjoyed the benefits right along with them.

His motivation to write had just doubled.

Past the shallow reading records, a second category appeared:

[Deep Reading Records]

The content in this section was significantly less, but every entry was exceptionally striking.

The first entry—

Big Black Ox read your work Analects, gained Confucian enlightenment, cultivation +1 year, feedback to host: Soul Power +1.

Su Mo was stunned.

Big Black Ox?

He rubbed his eyes, confirming he hadn't misread it.

He continued flipping down—

Big Black Ox read your work Tao Te Ching, gained Daoist enlightenment, cultivation +1 year, feedback to host: Soul Power +1.

Big Black Ox read your work Journey to the West, gained Demonic enlightenment, cultivation +1 year, feedback to host: Soul Power +1.

Big Black Ox read your work Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio, gained Ghostly enlightenment, cultivation +1 year, feedback to host: Soul Power +1.

Su Mo's pupils dilated in shock.

He frantically flipped through the pages, entry after entry, dense and packed, all bearing the same name—

Big Black Ox.

Big Black Ox!

Still Big Black Ox!!!

He did a rough count: six hundred and thirty-seven entries!

Brother Ox, you're actually a six-hundred-year-old Great Demon King!