"Before the Supreme came Heaven; Gods and Devils stood before immortals and Buddhas.
Could the Six Paths of Reincarnation truly be boundless? Amid all things, a single thread of heaven still remained.
The Ancient Era roiled, ten thousand devils descended,
The God King, in fury, uprooted Buzhou Mountain.
O vast blue heavens, weep for all living beings,
Could the Ancient Era have lasted merely ten million years?"
These children were not very old, around seven or eight. Each held a candied hawthorn skewer as they shouted the song through the streets.
Xu Zimo frowned slightly and called out to several children.
"Kids, let me ask you something."
The children watched Xu Zimo warily. Their sense of caution was not bad.
"What is it?" asked the oldest child.
"What did that ballad you were singing just now mean?" Xu Zimo asked.
"You don't even know that?" the child replied.
"It is the Ballad of the Heavens. Sing this ballad, and you can know ancient and modern times, discern rise and fall, preserve yin and yang—only then can you understand the principles behind the workings of the Great Dao."
As the child spoke, he swayed his head, looking rather like a schoolmaster.
Only, it looked strange, as though he were drawing a tiger after the likeness of a cat.
"Second Baby, what are you doing?" A woman hurried over from nearby, a stick still in her hand.
She shouted, "How many times have I told you not to play with that madman? Why did you run off there again?"
"Teacher isn't a madman. He even bought us candied hawthorn skewers," the child argued.
"You still dare talk back?" The woman bellowed, and the stick in her hand came down.
Xu Zimo reached out and caught the descending stick.
"Who are you?" The