After that familiar sensation of death.
Yin Chao's five senses gradually returned.
"When the hymn of Ancient High Heaven rings out, people will seek a new Priest..."
The old man's voice was distant and lingering. A group of children, seven or eight years old, sat around him, listening to his story.
"Bearded Grandpa, why are Priests always girls?"
One of the children asked.
The old man smiled. "Some say that the Priest is also the bride of the gods..."
No sooner had he spoken than the hymn of Ancient High Heaven rang out, the same song Yin Chao heard before every death.
Only now, there were no screams mingled with it.
Yin Chao saw a group of guards approaching from the end of the street, with the five missionaries at their head.
The old man and the children bowed, watching them enter a small house.
A woman who had just given birth lived inside.
"Oh, heavens! This is the Priest chosen by the gods!"
A nun's voice came from the low, dilapidated house.
Yin Chao's field of vision followed them inside, and he saw the nun snatch a swaddled infant from the arms of a thin, dark-skinned woman.
"Oh, my beloved Priest."
The nun gazed lovingly at the round-eyed infant.
But the woman seemed mentally unstable. She shrieked and lunged at the nun, nearly scratching the baby.
The guards behind her hurried to restrain her.
The nun left the house and stepped into the sunlight, unfolding the infant's worn but clean swaddling cloth.
A snow-white rose fell from the folds.
The nun exclaimed, "Heavens! My god! The Priest is a boy!"
Everyone present was thrown into confusion.
The infant was still taken to the Central Hall to be raised. Time here seemed to have been put on fast-forward.
Yin Chao