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PREQUEL 2 ; Chapter 3 – SHA LUO´S CHAPTER

  Dear Weizhi,

  If you ever learn that your mother was once a yaokai who could coldly watch others die—and even bring about death herself—please don't be shocked, and don't be afraid. Because at the beginning of every life, there is usually no clear direction. Before we grow, we don't understand right from wrong. We cling desperately to love and hate, sometimes even hurting others or ourselves in the process, all for the sake of something called obsession.

  Maybe one day, you will meet someone who leaves you torn between love and hate.

  Maybe you will be covered in wounds. Maybe you will feel as if the whole world has abandoned you.

  If that day ever comes, sit down, read your mother's story carefully, and tell yourself this—pain is the path to growth. What matters most is how you stand up from it and keep moving forward.

  Everything is just like your mother's Floating Life Tea—without bitterness, how can there be sweetness?

  Hmm… this story might be a little long. You are not allowed to just skim through it! You must read it word by word! Otherwise, I'll have to spank you!

  -----

  “Grandma, why hasn't Father woken up yet?”

  “He’s sick.”

  “But he already took his medicine!”

  “That medicine… can't save his life.”

  “Then what can save him?”

  “'m afraid… only a god can bring him back.”

  “Where is the god?”

  “High up on the distant Fulong Mountain.”

  “Then let’s go to Fulong Mountain!”

  In the pitch-dark vilge, a limping old woman was supported by her young grandson as they took slow, deliberate steps toward the horizon. In the woven bamboo basket the old woman held, a bundle of five-colored silk thread y quietly.

  They walked slowly, but each step was firm, filled with hope.

  It was said that the god of Fulong Mountain glowed with seven-colored divine light, illuminating half the mountain even in the dead of night. And as long as one tied the silk thread to the god's body, any wish would be granted.

  In this chaotic world, they had no one to rely on, no path of retreat. Their only hope was the mercy of the god.

  One day.

  Two days.

  One month.

  Two months.

  A year passed, yet the grandmother and grandson never returned to the vilge.

  Ten years passed, and still, there was no sign of them.

  No one knew where they had gone.

  Who would care about two people who lived so humbly, so insignificantly?

  Not even a god would…

  But in this vast universe, do gods truly exist?

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