Spacetime Turbulence

Time raced like a fine steed urged on by the whip; the sun and moon slipped away like fallen blossoms on flowing water. In the blink of an eye, June was drawing to a close, and Tang Wulin's birth was near.

Who could have imagined that, during this time, a upheaval would strike the Divine Realm that none of the gods had foreseen—the God of Destruction launched a rebellion with the speed of thunder before anyone could cover their ears. He ordered the seven Gods of Original Sin under his command to deal with the other members of the Shrek Seven Devils who had ascended alongside Tang San, as well as Tang San's daughter Tang Wutong and son-in-law Huo Yuhao, while he personally faced Tang San.

Though Tang San had only recently become a God King, they were both of that rank, and defeating him easily was no simple matter for the God of Destruction. Just as the battle reached a stalemate, the God of Destruction used Tang San's wife, Xiao Wu—and the child in her womb—as leverage, forcing Tang San to surrender the key to the Divine Realm's central hub.

In the end, for the safety of his wife and child, Tang San could only compromise, and he was placed under house arrest alongside his wife.

Ultimately, only Huo Yuhao and Tang Wutong managed to escape. Following Tang San's instructions, Huo Yuhao sought help from Rong Nianbing, the former God of Emotion, who immediately gathered his friends, the seven Elemental Gods. Huo Yuhao and Tang Wutong then hurried to the Forest of Life to plead with the Goddess of Life to intervene and stop the conflict. Though the Goddess of Life agreed to their request, the God of Destruction was her husband, and in the end she could only choose to help neither side.

Left with no other choice, they launched a rescue mission for Tang San in full force. Yet the battle soon reached a stalemate—between First-Level Gods and God Kings lay a chasm that was all but impossible to cross. Even when Huo Yuhao unleashed his ultimate strike, he still could not defeat the God of Destruction.

Just as everything seemed to have settled like dust after a storm, three piercing cries suddenly rang out.

"Waaah, waaah, waaah!"

Those cries were like morning bells and evening drums, shaking the hearts of every god present. All of them clearly sensed a special fluctuation within them—the pulse of a life being born. A brand-new life had entered the world.

That little life was Tang Wulin, and he slowly opened his eyes. He had not actually wanted to cry, but his body was entirely beyond his control. Even as he cried, however, he could not help quietly studying the two figures before him: the woman lying on the bed beside him was gentle and lovely, a faint smile resting on her lips; the young man holding him had long, silky, sea-blue hair, and his eyes, like exquisitely clear sapphires, gazed at him tenderly.

A gentle voice sounded softly. "The child... let me have a good look at him."

Tang San carefully cradled the little one in his arms and slowly laid him beside Xiao Wu on the bed. Xiao Wu turned slightly onto her side, her gaze settling on that chubby little face—the baby's whole body had a soft, rosy sheen, and a faint milky scent drifted from him.

Xiao Wu quietly studied her child, while Tang Wulin gazed at her curiously. The woman before him was gentle and lovely, like a fairy who had wandered into the mortal world, pure and tender. What made his heart tremble even more was the deep sense of closeness flowing through his blood, telling him unmistakably: this was his mother.

Xiao Wu gently reached out from beneath the covers, drew the child close, and lowered her head to kiss Tang Wulin's forehead softly with her rosy lips. In that instant, Tang Wulin felt a warm current sweep through his entire body. Enveloped in boundless tenderness and affection, all his earlier confusion and unease seemed to dissolve in that kiss.

That kiss seemed to hold a wondrous magic, for Tang Wulin's crying abruptly stopped. Delight shone in Xiao Wu's eyes, and she said with a soft laugh, "It's a boy."

Tang San nodded and said gently, "Just as we agreed before, we'll call him Tang Wulin—our little qilin." He softly stroked the baby's fine hair, his touch as tender as though he were handling a priceless treasure.

Tang Wulin felt his eyelids growing heavier and heavier. Though he wanted to take a good look at the parents who had given him this new life, his tiny body could not withstand its exhaustion. Their conversation sounded indistinct to him, as though it came through a thin veil of mist, yet it carried an indescribable warmth. His spiritual power gradually drew inward, and at last, unable to resist his drowsiness, he sank into a deep sleep.

In the final second before his consciousness slipped into darkness, only one thought remained in Tang Wulin's mind: So this is what it feels like to have a mom and dad.

The warm touch still lingered on his forehead—his mother's kiss, as light and soft as a feather. His father's low voice seemed to linger in his ears; though he could not make out the words, it carried a reassuring strength. His tiny body curled up, a faint milky fragrance and a warm scent lingering around his nose. It was the scent of "home."

The days of his previous life in the orphanage were like faded old photographs, blurred and distant. He could not remember how many times he had lain awake late at night, listening to the steady breathing of the other children, his heart hollow, as though a piece of its puzzle were missing. Now that piece seemed finally to have found its place, fitting perfectly, with a comforting rightness that made his heart soften.

He did not know this was the Douluo Continent, did not know who the gentle couple before him were, and knew even less of the storms the future would bring. At this moment, he was only a newborn baby, wrapped in love, closing his eyes peacefully beneath his parents' gaze.

His eyelashes trembled. Before the last trace of consciousness faded, he seemed to feel his father's fingers gently brush his cheek once more, carrying unmistakable affection.

This is so wonderful, he thought.

This time, he was no longer alone.

Tang San gazed at the child's peaceful sleeping face, his fingertips still brushing softly over his forehead, and murmured to himself, a trace of barely perceptible resolve in his voice, "It's time to set certain things in motion."