Especially those eyes—bright and spirited, filled with fervor and light, remarkably infectious.
Sometimes, even Chen Xun could not help stealing a few extra glances, a faintly gratified smile quietly appearing at the corner of his lips.
Little Wuhen had been born with an indifferent nature. Chen Xun had raised him from infancy, and no one understood Little Wuhen better than he did. Of course he knew.
But so what? It had never affected their father-son bond, nor had it affected anything else.
As long as he lived easily and happily, that was enough. The light in his eyes had not faded with the passing years. Instead, it had only grown ever richer.
Suffering had never been worth glorifying, nor had it ever been worth experiencing.
He was the Five-Elements Dao Ancestor of the Three Thousand Great Worlds. By now, he no longer needed to watch his words and tread carefully. Naturally, he could say such things—and he was even more qualified to change them. Whoever dared loudly object, he would pay them a visit and let them experience what true suffering meant!
There was even less reason to reenact his own experiences upon Little Wuhen. Let him be free and unrestrained; let him be safe and sound.
If Little Wuhen truly wished to cultivate immortality, Chen Xun would not forcibly stop him either. Once one had lived to a certain age, one would always have to do things fitting for that stage of life. Everyone had always been this way; even he himself could not escape the common lot.
Today, the sun shone brilliantly beside a mountain spring.
Little Wuhen held a tiny fishing rod, dazzling light bursting from his eyes as he silently fished there.
The wooden cart now bore mottled traces of time. Its body was covered in