Night was as usual. Xiao Fan paced back and forth alone in his room, looking rather anxious.
"Could it be... that I'm a fucking prince too? Emperor Hongwu's illegitimate son among the common folk?"
The thought was not entirely unreasonable. After all, countless street-stall novels had similar twists... it was nothing unusual.
"Let me sort this out... according to the original owner's memories, I'd been in the Xiao Family from birth. There was no possibility of being switched midway... besides, the Xiao Family had never had any dealings with the Ji Clan imperial family."
No... it should not be like this... the original owner's childhood memories were complete. His entire childhood had lacked all those hardships and wanderings suffered by imperial bastards in street-stall novels...
Xiao Fan immediately remembered something even more important: the golden scales on his body were different from the black scales on Ji Xuanyuan's body.
According to Ji Xuanyuan, the scales of every prince who cultivated the Sovereign True Dragon Heart Seal were black. Judging from Ji Xuanyuan's reaction, the Ji Clan imperial family's dragon scales had likely always been black.
From this alone, it seemed highly likely that Xiao Fan had no blood relation to the Ji Clan imperial family...
Could it be that, aside from the Ji Clan imperial family, other lineages possessed dragon blood as well? Like his old Xiao Family?
For now, he could not confirm this question, because he had never seen golden scales appear on either his father or his elder sister.
"Wait!"
Xiao Fan suddenly froze as a memory of the original owner spread through his mind!
"Our old Xiao Family's bloodline is special. Our blood contains the power of pure yang; it can neutralize all poisons and ignite Blood-Burning Flame!"
The original owner had heard his father say those words during childhood.
After that, the original owner began poison-resistance training, using his special bloodline to neutralize all kinds of toxins... until he eventually became nearly immune to poison.
Igniting Blood-Burning Flame was something the original owner only began cultivating at the age of twelve. Apart from consuming blood, the skill was not difficult to cultivate, and the original owner mastered it quickly.
But then came the problem. Xiao Fan racked his brains to recall the original owner's life, only to discover a glaring yet easily overlooked issue.
His father, Xiao Wu, had never once demonstrated the "old Xiao Family bloodline" he spoke of using his own blood!
Not only Xiao Wu—Xiao Fan had never seen his elder sister, Xiao Jinlan, use the secret art of "igniting Blood-Burning Flame" either.
This was an important memory that was all too easy to overlook!
At that moment, a bold conjecture was on the verge of bursting forth. Xiao Fan murmured, "Could it be... that only my blood can ignite flames... and neutralize poison?"
Confirming that would actually be very simple... he only needed to give his old man or elder sister a small dose of laxative...
It was a little underhanded, sure, but for martial artists of their rank, laxatives had limited effects. At most, they would make a few extra trips to the latrine and would not harm their bodies.
If they could be completely immune to the laxative just like him, that would prove the old Xiao Family's special bloodline was real.
Conversely, if they could not quickly neutralize even a mere laxative, it would mean their bloodline had no ability to dispel toxins at all!
Xiao Fan felt incomparably weary. Lying on the bed, he sighed helplessly. "Dad... just how many things have you been hiding from me?"
Tonight was originally Mid-Autumn Festival, a grand festival recorded in ancient texts for worshipping the moon.
As everyone knew, this world had no moon...
No one knew when people had stopped worshipping something that had long ceased to exist... and the so-called Mid-Autumn Festival had gradually been forgotten by history...
Yet there remained a small handful of people who still remembered this festival... a festival of utmost importance to them!
The night sky was still shrouded by thick, heavy clouds, as gloomy and eerie as ever, no different from ordinary days at first glance.
Yet some people refused to believe in evil omens, always feeling that the moon, long absent from the world, would appear on this day and bring salvation to mankind...
Fifty li outside the capital, at a desolate ruin, black clouds slowly circled above the wreckage.
Within the broken walls and crumbling remnants, shadowy figures gathered.
They stood barefoot, dressed in black homespun garments patterned with moons. Their hoods hung low, their faces buried deep beneath ominous shadows.
At the center of the crowd stood a one-eyed statue carved from strange stone, radiating a sinister and uncanny aura...
The single eye was jade yet not jade, its surface covered in fine natural patterns like blood vessels. At its center lay a deep, bottomless hollow, as though it led to the abyssal ruins beneath the Nine Netherworlds, emanating a malice that chilled one to the marrow.
Pale blue candle flames swayed restlessly around the stone eye. Though they gave off light, they did not lead toward brightness; instead, they resembled wisps of imprisoned remnant souls struggling and wailing.
Before the gathered shadows, a hunched old man slowly rose...
In his claw-like, withered hand, he gripped a gloomy wooden staff covered in vertical-eye totems. Within the hollow depths of the black stone bead set into its head, a trace of inhuman light faintly gleamed.
The old man raised his staff high. His throat rumbled as he released an excited shriek like grinding sand and stones, like wind blowing back through a dry well:
"Lord of Night! Moon of Worldly Oblivion! Immortal true source that stands above this tiny universe, Eye of Enlightenment that pierces false shells and reveals the true form of the Great Void!"
"We lowly ants offer these mortal shells as cauldrons, burn our souls as sacrificial incense, and humbly beseech a thread of our lord's divine thought to look upon us with mercy!"
"We pray for that supreme will to descend upon this filthy world, and return all heavens and all existence to the truth of the Great Void!"
The prayers poured into their ears like demonic music, and the believers behind him rose in response...
They were no longer human, but became a mass of twisted, writhing shadow-wraiths, beginning an uncanny and inexplicable Nuo dance.
Those indescribable movements were sometimes as swift as sudden rain and startled wind, shattering the sky and rending shadows! At other times, they were as slow as undercurrents in a deep pool, sluggish and heavy...
With every lift of a hand and shift of a foot, their sinews and bones bent backward, their postures inhuman, as though silently tracing some ancient incantation beyond comprehension and leading straight into madness.
The surrounding air suddenly grew thick as glue. A heavy stench of blood intertwined with an indescribable odor of decay, kneading ultimate ecstasy and deepest terror together until they fermented!
Deep within the stone eye's abyssal hollow, something seemed to be stirred by this foul piety. A will as heavy as the deep sea began to awaken.
As everything reached the peak of madness, all the believers abruptly halted their inhuman dance in perfect unison.
Their throats silently split open, yet no blood sprayed forth. Instead, strange cinnabar-red sigils appeared, winding around their necks!
Then, strands of dark-red vital blood, thick as liquid mercury, seeped from the sigils. They did not disperse, instead floating in the air as though drawn by an invisible hand.
The hunched old man let out a piercing shriek and viciously drove the vertical-eye staff into the ground!
In an instant, the vital blood suspended in the air seemed to be endowed with the will and form of living creatures. It suddenly began to boil and slither!
Countless blood threads darted about like living snakes, weaving across the ground into a glaring scarlet formation that pulsed and twisted without end!
Layer upon layer, whispers that seemed both distant and near arose from nowhere...
The sound was turbid and unbearable, echoing and resonating through every inch of the ruins... this was Its acknowledgment and response to the foul blood sacrifice.
The believers had lost all their vital blood and collapsed to the ground like shriveled empty husks. Yet beneath every hood, the corners of their mouths were stretched into smiles of ultimate fanaticism.
They firmly believed that after this night, the boundary between their mortal shells and that great existence had already blurred. Their souls had merged into eternal chaos... into "reality"...
They only needed to await the final obliteration descending upon the world, and they could become motes of dust embodying their lord's will in this filthy world, existing alongside their lord!
...Eastern district of the capital, Starwatch Platform of the Bureau of Celestial Observation.
An astrologer wearing an enormous hood that concealed his face was keeping watch through the night...
He gazed up at the sky, then suddenly opened his eyes wide as bronze bells. Deep within his bloodshot eyes was nothing but madness!
Those fanatical eyes seemed able to pierce through the lingering radiance of the Sacred Flame and enter the thick clouds, resonating with some indescribable thing.
He slowly opened his mouth and uttered words that sounded human, yet not human, in a dry and hoarse voice...
"Lord... one more month... Nine Provinces... martial contest..."
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