Zhang Shuguang watched the wound on his hand bleed steadily; it had been a long while, yet there was not the slightest sign of it healing.

Ying Cao had already been summoned by the beastmen from a nearby cave. Holding a small bamboo tube filled with hemostatic ointment, he rushed over in a panic.

“What’s going on? What’s going on? I heard them screaming so pitifully, saying something about you losing your divine power?” As soon as he ran over and saw the gushing wound on the back of Zhang Shuguang’s hand, he let out a cry: “How could this happen!”

Zhang Shuguang thought to himself, You’re screaming even louder than they were. Anyone who didn’t know better would think I’m mortally wounded and about to die.

“Ying Cao, medicine.” Mang Jiu stood nearby, his face grim, his tone icy.

Clearly, he too had been startled by Zhang Shuguang’s wound, though his mind was still fixated on the meaning behind the question he’d asked moments ago. Ying Cao quickly handed him the small bamboo tube.

Mang Jiu scooped out a dollop of pale blue ointment and gently applied it to the wound on the back of Zhang Shuguang’s hand.

Zhang Shuguang felt only a faint chill on the back of his hand, and then it seemed as though a transparent film had sealed over the bleeding wound, stopping the flow of blood.

He puffed out his cheeks and blew on it twice, then shook his hand, finding the ointment quite effective. He thought to himself, I should ask him for the recipe.

“What’s going on? Aren’t you supposed to be able to heal yourself?” Ying Cao asked, frowning.

Xiong Kui, who had come over upon hearing the commotion, also looked grave as he asked, “Have you exhausted your divine power?” Zhang Shuguang thought to himself, I don’t know if that’s the case, but at least I’m no longer a target now, so I’m actually quite safe.

He nodded in agreement with their thoughts and smiled faintly. “It’s fine. If it’s depleted, it’s depleted. I’m still me.” The crowd looked deeply moved, and their admiration for Zhang Shuguang grew even stronger.

The Divine Son didn’t even seem distressed that his divine power had been exhausted for their sake—what a truly magnanimous spirit!

Mang Jiu said nothing. He took his bone knife and cut two pieces of meat from the two halves of the insect, then said to Zhang Shuguang, “You don’t have to do it yourself. Just tell me what to do.”

Zhang Shuguang nodded with a smile. “Sure,” he said, then turned to reassure the others, “I’m really fine. It’s not a life-threatening injury, and there’s nothing wrong with my divine power being depleted—at least I saved all of them.”

He actually had a hunch, but this hunch was something he could only share with Mang Jiu.

“That’s not how it is, you…” Ying Cao was about to say more, but when he saw Mang Jiu glaring at him with a cold expression, he trailed off. 

Mang Jiu said coldly, “Everyone, disperse. Don’t disturb me while I’m cooking.”

Seeing the look on his face, everyone hurried away.

Originally, there had been other people living in this cave, but now, they had all fled.

With no outsiders around, Zhang Shuguang gently nudged Mang Jiu’s arm with his shoulder twice and burst out laughing. “Don’t be so serious. It probably isn’t some kind of divine power depletion—where would I even get divine power from?”

Mang Jiu rinsed the insect meat in the clear water from the stone bucket beside him, then turned to look at him. “Do you know what’s going on?”

“I have a hunch,” Zhang Shuguang said, taking out the potatoes and placing them in the stone basin, scooping some clean water into it. “It’d be best to mince that meat—like the ground meat we used for meatballs last time.”

Mang Jiu nodded, placing the meat directly into the empty stone basin beside him. Without even using a knife, he clenched his fist and pounded it down. Zhang Shuguang winced at the sight. “Doesn’t that hurt your hand?”

“It’s fine. This is faster.” Mang Jiu asked him, “What are your theories?”

“My flesh healed so quickly back then—I suspect it had something to do with my mind being completely focused on saving people. You know those two scars I used to have? If it really were some kind of divine power healing the wounds, those scars shouldn’t feel raised to the touch; they’d be like this,” He held out his arm. The area where the flesh had been cut was smooth and intact, though the color differed slightly from the rest of his skin—it was lighter than it had been right after healing. “Now that those two scars are gone, doesn’t that prove my theory is correct?”

Mang Jiu nodded slightly. “Your wounds haven’t healed yet because you aren’t desperate to recover?”

“No,” Zhang Shuguang shook his head, glancing at the red wound. “It’s probably just that I don’t have such a strong obsession with keeping others alive or with surviving myself. We can talk about the specifics later. Right now, since they all think I’ve lost my divine power, they’re even less likely to spread the word about this.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m safer now.”

Mang Jiu was silent for a moment before saying, “Hmm. Whether this happens again in the future or not, you mustn’t let them find out.” 

“Got it. I’ll be careful,” Zhang Shuguang replied.

Following his instructions, Mang Jiu simmered a stone pot full of worm meat and potato porridge. It was sticky, slimy, yellowish, and powdery—it looked absolutely unappetizing, but the taste was surprisingly good.

The earthworm meat had no strange smell or fishy odor, and paired with the potatoes, it was surprisingly smooth and tender. A single spoonful warmed his whole body.

“Perfect for this kind of weather,” Zhang Shuguang said, holding the stone bowl and blowing on the steaming, sticky soup. “Look,” He raised his left hand to show Mang Jiu the wound on the back of his hand. Perhaps due to his constitution, after drinking two bowls of the porridge, the wound was visibly beginning to close. “Although this worm is no good in any other way, its meat is truly effective. Let’s take these two back to raise. If we slice off a bit of meat every day to simmer into soup, even healthy people can build up their strength by eating it.”

Mang Jiu nodded. “Dig a stone cave to keep them in. They burrow into the ground; if you put them on the ground, they’ll escape.”

“Do you think all earthworms work like this?” Zhang Shuguang wiped his mouth after drinking three bowls of the paste; he was full. “If people from other tribes knew earthworms had such healing properties, they’d have been hunted to extinction long ago.” Especially during the winter when game is scarce, these worms would surely be dug up from the ground and stockpiled as food.

“It must be a coincidence.” Mang Jiu was level-headed and had his own theory about why earthworm meat could heal wounds. “These worms have, to varying degrees, consumed the blood and flesh of the beastmen.”

Zhang Shuguang propped his chin in his hand, tilted his head to look at him, and gave a soft “Hmm.” 

“I agree with you, especially about your own flesh and blood. You bled so much when you were in beast form that this land was soaked and muddy with your blood.”

The earthworms had consumed flesh and blood containing large amounts of the Giant Beast Clan’s blood, as well as flesh and blood from Mang Jiu himself—who possessed natural healing abilities—so it was likely that they had mutated as a result. In other words, it wasn’t the earthworm meat that healed the wounds; it was Mang Jiu’s own flesh and blood that had produced the effect.

“You’re even more mysterious than I am.” Zhang Shuguang sighed. Seeing that he had finished the porridge in his bowl, he served him another bowl. “My homeland—my former homeland,” he said with a bitter smile, “the Huaguo on Earth. From ancient times to the present, the dragon has been revered there. A legendary divine beast, the dragon has nine offspring, each with a different form. There is the water python that, after enduring a thousand tribulations, transforms into a dragon; dragon meat is considered a powerful tonic.”

He traced the image of a dragon from his memory on the ground with his finger: a majestic body covered in hard scales, sharp claws, a long, slender scaly tail, round, bulging eyes, twin horns on its head, long whiskers fluttering in the wind, and a mouth full of sharp teeth.

“Its form bears nine resemblances: its head resembles a camel, its horns a deer, its eyes a rabbit, its ears an ox, its neck a snake, its belly a sea-snail, its scales a carp, its claws an eagle, and its paws a tiger.”

After finishing his drawing, Zhang Shuguang raised his hand to wipe the dirt from between his fingers, then pursed his lips to signal him to look: “I suspect you’re evolving into this legendary divine beast.”

Mang Jiu tilted his head and looked at it for a moment before commenting, “It looks good.”

“Of course it’s beautiful—how majestic! This is a divine beast! It can even breathe fire, water, and lightning!” Zhang Shuguang felt inexplicably excited. “If you could turn into something like this, you’d be a god yourself—who’d need some so-called Beast God?”

Mang Jiu looked at him as if he were a fool, his eyes brimming with exasperation. Zhang Shuguang rubbed his nose and chuckled. “I was just daydreaming a little.”

“Eat all of this,” he said, standing up and glancing at the sticky residue left in the stone pot. “It’s like eating your own blood and replenishing it back to you.”

Mang Jiu’s mouth twitched; his appetite had been completely ruined.

Zhang Shuguang grinned mischievously, sitting down beside him. “You just eat. I was just messing with you.” 

Mang Jiu sighed and asked, “You seem to have suddenly cheered up?”

Although Zhang Shuguang had been smiling all along, it had always felt forced, and he’d seemed tense. Now, he looked much more relaxed.

Zhang Shuguang nodded, leaned close to his ear, and whispered, “I’m actually pretty worried.” He tapped the pink patch of skin on his arm. “What if someone gets seriously injured in the future and comes to me asking for a piece of my flesh to help them? You know I’m such a kind-hearted person—I wouldn’t really be able to say no. By then, I’d just be a walking, breathing tonic.”

Mang Jiu gave a low snort.

Zhang Shuguang leaned against him. “Don’t mock me.” 

“Mm.” Mang Jiu lowered his head to slurp his porridge.

“I’m not afraid anymore, so of course it’s a lot easier,” Zhang Shuguang said, cupping his face and smiling. “If they know the worm meat can heal them, they’ll come here to trade things for it whenever they get hurt. Isn’t that great?”

Mang Jiu nodded. It was a good idea, but there was one problem. “What if they catch another earthworm, eat its meat, and don’t notice any changes?”

“What’s that got to do with me? Even among you beastmen, there are big ones and small ones. Who’s to say that the bugs over here can cure diseases and save lives, while the ones over there are just rotten and inedible?” Zhang Shuguang raised an eyebrow and said with a roguish grin, “It wasn’t me who said that earthworm meat could save lives—they discovered that themselves after eating it. If anyone’s to blame, it won’t be me.”

Mang Jiu chuckled softly. “You’re right. Are you tired? Want to take a nap?”

“I’m going to chat with Xiao Cai for a bit. Once you’re done eating, wash the bowls and the pot.” Zhang Shuguang shifted his body back a bit and leaned against the mountain wall. “No need to carry me over to that cave—it’s pretty comfortable sleeping right here.”

Mang Jiu gave a brief reply.

Zhang Shuguang stretched out his long legs, settled into a comfortable position on the animal hide, and closed his eyes.

“Once the rain stops, I’ll go out and pick some mushrooms, then find some vines to weave a few baskets.”

“Alright, you go ahead and sleep.” Mang Jiu set down the bowl and took a piece of hide to cover himself. Zhang Shuguang rested his head on his arm and let out a big yawn.

“Xiao Cai.”

Xiao Cai: “Master, I’m here.”

Zhang Shuguang: “Did you hear what I was saying to the Master System?”

Xiao Cai: “No, Master. The main system blocked me. What did you talk about with it? It seemed really irritable.”

Zhang Shuguang: “Irritable? Why would it be irritable?”

Xiao Cai: “I’ve been force-shut down several times! I asked it what was wrong, but it wouldn’t answer.” Zhang Shuguang thought to himself, What else could be wrong? It’s probably upset because I exposed its secrets.

He was growing increasingly suspicious of the Master System’s identity. It was likely something with a very close connection to him. He didn’t know exactly what it was, but it probably wouldn’t harm him.

After reaching this conclusion, Zhang Shuguang asked Xiao Cai, “Have you ever seen the main system’s original form?”

 Xiao Cai: “No, but I’ve always communicated directly with the main system.”

Zhang Shuguang: “Then have you seen other sub-systems like yourself?” 

Xiao Cai: “I’ve heard there are many, but I haven’t seen any.”

Zhang Shuguang: “I ask, you answer.”

Xiao Cai: “…Master, I’m restricted from answering many of your questions.” 

Zhang Shuguang: “I haven’t even asked yet. How do you know you’re restricted?”

Xiao Cai: “In the program, the Main System set for me, I’m not allowed to answer anything that isn’t related to gardening.” 

Zhang Shuguang gritted his teeth.

Mang Jiu turned to look at him. Seeing him with his eyes closed and looking huffily annoyed, he reached out and pinched his cheek. Zhang Shuguang opened his eyes and snorted, “What are you doing?!”

Mang Jiu: “What are you so mad about?”

“I’m going to settle the score with it!” Zhang Shuguang closed his eyes again. “Xiao Cai, summon the Main System. I have something to say to it.”

Xiao Cai: “Master, the main system has gone into hibernation. It said not to bother it with anything for a while—it needs some time to cool off.” 

Zhang Shuguang: “……” He wanted to curse!

Zhang Shuguang: “Fine, you go into hibernation too. Remember to keep the navigation on.”

Xiao Cai: “Okay, Master.”

Zhang Shuguang sighed, opened his eyes to look at Mang Jiu, and pursed his lips. “I didn’t get anything out of it. It’s avoiding me.”

“The fact that it’s avoiding you means you’re either completely right or at least mostly right,” Mang Jiu lay down beside him, helped him wrap the animal hide around himself, then pulled him directly into his embrace, offering his arm as a pillow. “Don’t dwell on it. Didn’t you say we’ll find out eventually?”

“Let things take their course,” Zhang Shuguang shifted his head slightly. “I was overthinking it.”

Mang Jiu kissed his forehead. “Go to sleep. We’ll go mushroom picking once the rain stops.”

“Mm.” Zhang Shuguang replied with a smile and closed his eyes.

The rain grew heavier, and the clear rainwater washed over the blood-stained earth. The blood seeped into the soil, and the grass and trees that had been destroyed began to sprout and grow visibly, nourished by the blood-stained water.

Beastmen on patrol witnessed this wondrous sight and gaped in astonishment.

“Chieftain! Chieftain!”

Xiong Kui heard the commotion and emerged from the cave; he too was stunned by the scene before him.

One beastman after another emerged from the cave. They paid no heed to the heavy rain soaking their bodies, their eyes fixed intently on the greenery thriving in the downpour.

“How is this possible?”

“The Beast God! It must be a blessing from the Beast God!”

“It’s the Divine Son! It’s the new life brought by the Divine Son!”

The beastmen seemed to be under a spell; one after another, they knelt on the ground, cupping their hands to catch the rain, their faces beaming with joy.

Xiong Kui watched the green grass quickly spreading across the ground and the sapling rising from the earth, a hint of confusion in his eyes. He remembered that this was where Mang Jiu and Shuguang had been—the very spot where Shuguang had cut his flesh and let his blood flow.

“Chieftain, we must not let outsiders know about this place.” Ying Cao, like Xiong Kui, had considered a certain possibility.

Xiong Kui nodded. “I’ll notify the other tribes that our tribe will take over this hunting ground from now on. No one from other tribes is allowed to hunt here.” Thinking of the issue with the underground coal fire, he decided to expand the boundaries of the hunting ground.

“Will they agree?” Ying Cao frowned deeply.

Xiong Kui’s face darkened as he said coldly, “They have no choice but to agree!”

Their Cliffside Tribe had always stayed out of conflicts. Even though the Eastern Continent appeared peaceful, it actually harbored many restless tribes, yet they had never gotten involved.

This time was different. Xiong Kui took a deep breath. “Whoever opposes us, we’ll beat them into submission.” 

Ying Cao froze. “Won’t that… cause resentment?”

Xiong Kui sneered. “Resentment? Our tribe has long been a source of their resentment. Around here, the strongest call the shots. If they can’t beat us, they’ll have to swallow their resentment.”

Ying Cao nodded in agreement.

“Remember this,” Xiong Kui turned to face the others, his voice carrying an air of authority and coldness. “Whatever has happened recently—no one is allowed to say anything—”

“Let it be known: if anyone betrays the tribe or betrays the Divine Son, I will not let them off the hook!”

“Yes! We swear to remain forever loyal to the tribe and to the Divine Son!”

It rained all night, gradually letting up only as the first light of dawn broke.

Zhang Shuguang slept with a faint blush on his cheeks, nestled comfortably in Mang Jiu’s arms, snoring softly.

Mang Jiu was already aware of the changes outside and had agreed to Xiong Kui’s proposal to take over the hunting grounds. Now, gazing at the sleeping Zhang Shuguang in his arms, he gently kissed the other’s slightly parted lips.

Zhang Shuguang felt a tickling sensation and licked his lips with the tip of his tongue. Mang Jiu froze, “……”

“Mmm…” Zhang Shuguang’s body stiffened, and he opened his eyes. Had he just… seemed to…

Mang Jiu’s expression remained completely unchanged. Seeing that he had opened his eyes, he withdrew his arm, sat up, and pulled him up as well. “Go take a look outside—there’s a surprise.”

Zhang Shuguang’s question was cut short. He scratched his head, wondering if he’d misinterpreted what had just happened.

“What’s going on outside?” He turned his head to look out of the cave and was drawn to a vast expanse of green in the distance. “That tree—the red tree? I don’t remember there being a tree there, do I?”

Mang Jiu gave a soft “Mm-hmm.” 

“You’ll see when you go out.”

Zhang Shuguang reached out, and he pulled him to his feet. Wrapped in animal skins, they walked outside.

Standing outside the cave, surrounded by a sea of green and breathing in the scent of fresh grass, he was dumbfounded.

Mang Jiu said, “The Chief said that when it rained last night, the grass and trees began to grow. That red tree wasn’t there before. He suspects that it grew because your blood fell there.”

Zhang Shuguang stared at the tree, which was entirely blood-red, his eyes filled with shock and bewilderment.

He grabbed Mang Jiu’s arm tightly with one hand and shook him vigorously, pointing at the tree with the other. “What… what on earth is that?” Mang Jiu’s body swayed slightly as he was shaken. He shook his head. “I don’t know. Want to go take a look?”

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go take a look.” It wasn’t just the two of them; the others were equally curious about that strange tree.

It wasn’t far—just a hundred or so paces away. Zhang Shuguang stood beneath the tree, his hand tracing the smooth bark as he looked up at the clusters of bright red leaves. His mouth, which had fallen open in shock, hadn’t closed since.

“I…” He wanted to say, “Am I dreaming?” but the sensation in his hand told him that the tree before him was very likely there because of him.

“Xiao Cai, Xiao Cai!”

Xiao Cai: “Master, I’m here.”

Zhang Shuguang: “Summon the main system. Hurry!” 

Xiao Cai: “The main system is currently…”

Zhang Shuguang: “Tell it I’m about to die!” 

Xiao Cai: “……”

Zhang Shuguang stared at the tree trunk before him and walked around it once—it was about as thick as two people could wrap their arms around. 

Main System: “Host, what do you need?”

Zhang Shuguang: “What is this thing?”

The Main System saw the blood-red tree through Zhang Shuguang’s eyes and froze. The sound of crackling electricity filled the air, and Zhang Shuguang’s mouth twitched.

“Are you going to die again?”

“How did it end up here!” The Main System let out a shriek; the sound had shed its usual electronic quality and carried a hint of liveliness.

Zhang Shuguang urgently pressed, “Do you know what it is? Is it really a tree?”

The tree trunk against his palm felt cool to the touch. Not only that, but this blood-red trunk wasn’t covered in bark at all—it was just a smooth, bare, slimy shaft that felt warm to the touch.

Mang Jiu, standing nearby, noticed the strange look on his face. He reached out to touch it as well, then froze for a moment, furrowing his brow slightly.

Xiong Kui walked over and reached out to touch the trunk as well, but his hand stopped just short of it. His eyes widened in surprise. “Why can’t I touch it?”

Zhang Shuguang turned to look at him upon hearing this. He saw that both Xiong Kui and Mang Jiu’s hands had stopped just one centimeter away from the trunk—so close, yet they simply couldn’t touch it.

“Main System!”

Main System: “It’s a Divine Blood Tree—a sapling.”

Zhang Shuguang waited for it to continue, but the thing fell silent.

“Go on!”

Main System: “What am I supposed to say? I’m all mixed up right now! Wait for me to sort things out before I speak!” 

Then it went into hibernation, and Xiao Cai didn’t appear again either.

Zhang Shuguang gritted his teeth, thinking viciously, “Just wait until I get my hands on you—I’m going to teach you a lesson!”

He lowered his hand, exhaled, and turned around. “No outsiders can know about this place,” he said, pointing to the Divine Blood Tree behind him. “It’s called the Divine Blood Tree—and it’s still just a sapling.” After saying this, he twitched the corner of his mouth, thinking to himself: If the sapling is already three or four meters tall, won’t the mature tree tear the sky apart?

Xiong Kui and Mang Jiu looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

Zhang Shuguang spread his hands. “That’s it. I don’t know anything else…” Before he could finish, an image flashed through his mind.

A towering, blood-red tree, lush with foliage and a massive trunk, stood in the courtyard, its branches so vast they blocked out the sky. The courtyard itself was quite elegant, with a small bridge and flowing water.

A chubby little boy, wearing a red bib and sporting a topknot, was perched on the tree trunk, gazing up at the red fruits hanging from the branches, drooling with envy.

The little boy looked to be about two or three years old, with snow-white skin and bright black eyes, his long eyelashes curled and fluttering. He was clearly well-pampered, with chubby plump.

“Da, da, give me some.”

Zhang Shuguang felt a sudden tightness in his chest; his body swayed, and his eyes rolled back as he fainted.

“Shuguang!” Mang Jiu hurriedly reached out and caught him in his arms.

“What’s going on? Why did he faint? Quick, quick, quick—carry him back!” Xiong Kui paced frantically, completely forgetting about that strange tree. The group scrambled back in a rush. Mang Jiu looked down with concern at Zhang Shuguang, whose furrowed brow had smoothed out and whose eyes were tightly closed.

Zhang Shuguang “looked” at the grayish-bright orb before him and reached out to grab it. The moment his hand touched it, the light scattered like dandelion seeds blown by the wind.

The surrounding darkness gradually turned gray; he felt as if he were in an old movie, surrounded by a sea of gray and white.

“D-dad, give the baby a fruit!” The chubby little boy was perched on the tree trunk, raising his stubby, plump little hand and pointing at the red fruit in the distance.

“You little glutton, that fruit isn’t ripe yet. You can’t eat it.” A crisp, masculine voice rang out. Zhang Shuguang froze, his heart suddenly clenching. He widened his eyes and strained to see, but all he could make out was a hazy gray blur; no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make out the man’s features.

“Daddy, Baby’s hungry.” The chubby little boy was picked up by the man and wrapped his arms around his neck, whining, “Tummy’s hungry.”

Zhang Shuguang heard the man’s deep chuckle, and his eyes instantly welled up with tears. The man said, “Shall I catch a fish for the baby to eat?”

The chubby little boy shook his head vigorously. “Daddy can’t catch any fish. There aren’t any.”

“I can, I can. I won’t let you go hungry this time…”

The father and son walked farther and farther away. Zhang Shuguang watched them disappear into the gray haze, tears already streaming down his cheeks.

“Main System!” Zhang Shuguang shouted. “Get out of here! I know you’re behind this!”

He wiped his face and called out several times, but the grayish-white haze turned back into darkness. The grayish-white orb floated before his eyes, bobbing up and down.

Zhang Shuguang snapped, “What the hell are you?”

The orb looked aggrieved. “Little Master, you’ve forgotten so many, many things.”

Zhang Shuguang pressed his lips together, saying nothing. He knew he had forgotten—he didn’t need to be reminded!

The orb continued, “My divine power is insufficient; I cannot maintain my original form. The images you see, young master, are all real—they exist within your memories. I am merely helping to bring them to light.”

Zhang Shuguang sniffed. “Who am I, exactly? And what’s the story with that tree?”

When he touched the sapling of the Divine Blood Tree just now, besides feeling its warmth, he could also sense something surging within the trunk, as if it were a bloodline connected to his own.

The light orb said, “That sapling was formed from your blood. As for how it came to be there… did you do something?” It had merely sensed that the established order of this world had been altered, and it understood that the young master had done something to change the fate of others. Yet it had never imagined that he would actually defy heaven and rewrite destiny!

Zhang Shuguang thought of how he’d cut his own flesh and bled to save someone, grimaced, and recounted what he’d done.

Light Orb: “…You really are… Never mind. Since it has already sprouted, it means it has taken root in this land. You needn’t concern yourself with it; it will grow on its own.”

Zhang Shuguang thought of the great tree he had just seen and asked, “Can it grow very, very large?”

“It can, but it will take a very long time. The Divine Blood Tree needs to be nourished with divine blood, but you likely have very little divine power left now, let alone divine blood.

You’re as ordinary as can be. It’s already remarkable that you were able to awaken your divine power through sheer determination and save someone.” The light sphere paused for a moment after speaking, as if deep in thought, before continuing after a brief interval: “You’ve been reincarnated many times; your bloodline has been somewhat affected.”

His initial guesses and deductions had been confirmed. Zhang Shuguang realized it was preparing to answer some of his questions, so he didn’t hold back and asked directly.

“Is your lack of divine power because you protected me through my reincarnations?”

The light sphere bobbed up and down. “Yes.”

Zhang Shuguang asked again, “In my first life, who killed me?”

The light sphere replied, “I don’t know. By the time I found you, you had already fallen to your death.”

Zhang Shuguang frowned and pressed his finger to his lips. “Those two books—did you write them?”

The light orb replied, “No. After I discovered you had reincarnated on Earth, I could only expend my divine power to search for you. You had completely forgotten the memories of your first three lives. My divine power was insufficient to manifest a physical form, so I could only suggest a few scenes to the book’s author. She then took creative liberties and wrote the book herself. I originally thought that seeing the content would help you recall some things, but I didn’t expect you to have even read the book.”

There was a note of frustration in its voice. It hadn’t anticipated that the author would take such liberties—turning its young master from the protagonist into the most disposable of cannon fodder, doomed from the very start.

Zhang Shuguang’s lips twitched slightly. He thought to himself, You really did choose the wrong person to entrust this to.

“What’s the deal with the Veggie Seed app?”

Light Orb: “When you were little, you used to say you wanted to find all kinds of edible things to plant in the yard, so you could eat lots of delicious food, and even the gods teased you for being a glutton. After I found out you’d gone to another dimension, I thought I could help you fulfill that wish, so I brought all the seeds you’d bought over with me.”

Zhang Shuguang silently covered his face. How embarrassing!

So the chubby little boy’s wish was to be a farmer who tilled the fields and grew crops.

Light Orb: “Little Master, the vegetable seeds are the way I can communicate with you, and…”

Zhang Shuguang watched the light sphere as its glow grew dimmer and dimmer. He stared at it with wide eyes and asked urgently, “And what?” 

“Your… divine power… return…” The light sphere vanished.

Zhang Shuguang snapped his eyes open, meeting Mang Jiu’s worried gaze. He was dazed for a moment before realizing where he was.

“He’s awake! He’s awake! Shuguang is awake!” someone nearby exclaimed with delight. Zhang Shuguang closed his eyes briefly; when he opened them again, his eyes held a glimmer of life.

“I…” He opened his mouth to speak, only to find his voice hoarse and his throat parched.

Mang Jiu took the stone bowl handed to him by Xiong Kui, helped Zhang Shuguang sit up by supporting his back, and fed him water. After drinking the bowl of water, his mouth felt much better, and his parched throat was soothed.

“Did I just… pass out?” he asked.

Mang Jiu nodded and exhaled. “You were unconscious for three days.”

“Three days?” Zhang Shuguang was taken aback. “I’ve actually been unconscious for three days?”

“Yeah. Do you feel unwell anywhere?” Mang Jiu asked. “You fainted suddenly, but there weren’t any unusual symptoms. Ying Cao said you must have just fallen asleep from exhaustion.”

Zhang Shuguang gave a soft “Oh,” sat up straight, and leaned against his chest. “I’m fine now. Can you take me to see that tree again?”

Mang Jiu was about to refuse, but seeing the strange look on his face—and remembering that he’d been touching that tree right before he fainted—he swallowed his refusal.

“Alright, I’ll carry you there.”

Zhang Shuguang wanted to say he could walk, but Mang Jiu had already scooped him up in a horizontal carry.

Thank goodness it was a princess carry—if he’d just grabbed his legs and dragged him along, he’d have looked like a chubby little kid! Xiong Kui told everyone that Shuguang had woken up, and the beastmen, who’d been worried for three days, finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Meanwhile, the beasts recuperating in the cave were filled with nothing but heartache. It must have been their fault that Shuguang had become so weak!

Is the Divine Son’s flesh so easy to devour? They really shouldn’t have done that!

Zhang Shuguang had no idea what the beastmen were thinking; if he did, he’d probably be speechless. They were truly simple-hearted, taking everything upon themself.

Mang Jiu carried Zhang Shuguang to the foot of the Divine Blood Tree. A gentle breeze blew past, causing the blood-red leaves to rustle and tremble, as if they were waving to them.

Zhang Shuguang set his feet down, walked over, and ran his hand along the smooth trunk, closing his eyes to take it all in.

“I just saw my father,” he said, tilting his face upward to look at the canopy. Compared to the giant tree in his memory, this one was nothing more than a sapling.

Mang Jiu stood quietly by, listening. He knew Zhang Shuguang didn’t need him to ask any questions right now. Sure enough, with a hint of bitterness in his voice, Zhang Shuguang told him what he had seen after fainting. When he finished, Mang Jiu spoke at just the right moment: “You want to recover those memories.”

“Mm-hmm,” Zhang Shuguang nodded, turned, and took his hand, placing it on the tree trunk. “It’s alive.”

This time, Mang Jiu’s hand could feel the smooth tree trunk. Because of his connection with Zhang Shuguang, he could also clearly sense the faint flow within the trunk.

“What’s inside?” he asked curiously.

Zhang Shuguang shook his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

He crouched down and sat against the tree trunk, patting the ground beside him to signal Mang Jiu to sit as well.

Then he tilted his head and rested it on the man’s shoulder. “The main system vanished very suddenly. It must have been due to a lack of divine power. My mission-completion system was created by it. If that’s the case, perhaps completing missions helps it restore its divine power, or maybe building this continent better is a way for it to gain more energy? I don’t know—it vanished before I could ask.”

He thought of how he’d turned down so many missions just to save himself the trouble. He thought of his own background and the Main System’s depleted divine power.

Although what it said might not be entirely true, it was still the only way for it to come back to life. Zhang Shuguang felt a tightness in his chest, an uncomfortable heaviness.

Mang Jiu sensed this. He raised his hand to wrap it around Zhang Shuguang’s shoulder and patted him gently. “Can someone help you complete a mission?”

“Yes,” Zhang Shuguang nodded. “The first time you took me to the beach, I received a system quest to catch fish. You actually caught a lot of them, but I secretly used them to complete the mission.” After saying this, he smiled sheepishly, “Thanks to you. Otherwise, I would’ve been panicking that day.”

Mang Jiu nodded, showing no sign of surprise.

Zhang Shuguang blinked. Thinking about how smart this man was, and recalling the things he’d done quietly in the past, it dawned on him. He raised his hand and slapped his thigh hard, making a loud smacking sound: “You knew I was lying back then!”

“I know exactly how many fish I caught.” Mang Jiu chuckled softly and took his hand. “You’re so funny when you’re sneaking around like that.” As he bobbed up and down in the seawater, he clearly saw Zhang Shuguang touch a fish on the shore, only for it to vanish instantly. Zhang Shuguang gritted his teeth, unable to hold back any longer, and bit down on his shoulder with a growl. “You rascal!”

Mang Jiu raised his hand and ruffled his hair. “You’re the only one who’s a rascal.”

“Hmph!” He let go, saw the drool on his shoulder, and wiped it away. “Let’s go pick some mushrooms.”

“Let’s go to the other side. There are more trees there, and if we’re lucky, we might run into a herd of Meimei beasts.” Mang Jiu stood up, pulled him to his feet, and bent down. “Hop on.”

Zhang Shuguang grinned and pounced, wrapping his arms around his neck before turning his head to look at the Blood Tree, its leaves swaying in a blood-red hue. He could not care about his second or third lives, but he could not help but care about his first.

That man whose face he couldn’t make out was important to him—especially important. Just thinking about him made his heart ache.

“Do you think he’s my father? What about my mother?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll find out eventually.” Mang Jiu tilted his head and nuzzled Zhang Shuguang’s cheek. “Right now, you should be thinking about catching a few Meimei Beasts to eat. You haven’t eaten in three days—aren’t you hungry?”

“I’m starving! Just hearing you mention it makes me hungry. Come on, let’s go. If I see any fruit, I’m picking two to eat right away.” Zhang Shuguang nuzzled him back a couple of times, then patted his shoulder. “Let’s go!”

No matter how long it takes, the answer isn’t going anywhere. He’s bound to find out what he wants to know!