Li Qingshan clutched his head with his eyebrows firmly locked. His body arched up with his back raised high in the air, like an ox putting up a powerful struggle. However, his lips curled up into an eerie smile.
The demonic transformations all began to regress.
The Ox Demon, with its Great Strength, Sinks in the Mud!
If none of the mud existed anymore, why did it persist? If it could enjoy happiness, who would be willing to go through pain!
This was “paradise”, a “pure land” devoid of pain.
He let out a furious roar, and the sky surged. He bared his teeth in utter fury.
However, his mind immediately calmed down. He had already made his decision—Phoenix’s Nirvā?a!
Bright-red flames spread and swallowed him, but just that was not enough. As long as those happy and touching memories still existed, he would not be able to resist this “paradise”.
But it was impossible for him to part with them, nor was he willing to part with them. Memories had always been one entity—happy and ugly, touching and painful. How could he distinguish between them clearly?
How could he be unaware that Xiao An had killed countless and committed heinous crimes? Yet in his eyes, great beauty and white bone possessed no difference. That was all his Xiao An!
How was he supposed to part with this memory?
He let out a great sigh, powering the Spirit Turtle Transformation to suppress it all!
His eyes suddenly became blank as if he had cleared away all of his memories. They reflected the clear sky before burning to nothing in the fire as well, falling out of the sky.
Boom! A streak of light flashed by, landing in a field.
An old couple rushed over. Smoke and flames were ablaze as sparks filled their faces. They were unable to approach it for the time being.
However, they did not seem to know fear. The old man picked up a pitchfork and paved a path.
At this moment, they suddenly heard the crying of an infant from up ahead. The circumstances itself were rather strange.
The old couple shared a glance. They became even more frantic, moving faster.
They passed through the sorghum stalks in a hurry. The old man’s step fell through, and the old woman grabbed his arm in response, saving him from falling into the charred pit.
The flames in the pit had not yet completely extinguished. In the centre was half of a broken eggshell with a child laying inside. His skin was pink and wrinkly. He was clutching his fists and kicking his little legs, like he was fighting against some invisible monster. He cried away energetically.
The old man slid down into the pit slowly and put out the flames, approaching the baby.
The baby suddenly opened his eyes and stopped crying. His large, scarlet irises clearly reflected everything in the surroundings.
The old man stopped, afraid to approach him.
However, the old woman directly made her way around him and picked up the child. She was touched. “Look, old man! It’s a child! The buddha has bestowed us with a child!”
Before they came to Sukhāvatī, they spent their entire life as vegetarians and practising buddhists, doing good and accumulating good karma, yet they did not have a child. They were the classic example of good people going unrewarded in the local region. However, they did not bear any grudges, as pious as before, doing good like before. After death, they were brought to Sukhāvatī, but they had never given up on this thought. Now, their dream finally came true.
When the old man heard that, he stopped hesitating, immediately dropping to his knees and uttering the buddha’s name incessantly.
They brought the child back to their house, feeding him rice porridge. The child happily accepted it all, eating and drinking away with an appetite even larger than an adult’s.
The old woman smiled happily. “Oh my, fortunately, we’re in the buddha’s land, or we’ll go broke just from trying to feed him.”
The old man slapped his knee. “Yep, I’ll go plant some more pumpkins. They’ll be ready for harvest in a few days. We’ll make pumpkin soup for this kid.”
Sukhāvatī was a land where flowers bloomed all year round, in a state of eternal spring. The climate was warm and highly suitable for habitation. There were no harsh winters and summers, and the ground was exceptionally fertile. They did not have to do any additional farmwork at all—just casually sprinkling some seeds could lead to a bountiful harvest. There was nothing like taxes and levies either.
Farmwork was no longer a strenuous job where they had their heads lowered and backs bent, facing the ground all day long. Instead, it had become a joy of life. They could plant whatever they wanted to eat, and it would sprout the next day. The plants grew rapidly, blooming and fruiting very soon. Just the sight of it was an indescribable joy. The fragrance of flowers forever permeated the fields.
They watched the child grow with each passing day—indeed, the child grew with each day and each moment. By the next day, he could already run around, and his appetite only grew larger. After just a few days, the pumpkins they had planted could no longer satiate him completely.
The old couple were not surprised. In Sukhāvatī, children probably grew like the plants too!
On this day, the child was chomping away on a melon wedge when a thought suddenly crossed his mind. He raised his head from the melon peel. “Who am I?”
That left the old couple frantic. Over the past few days, they had spent plenty of time discussing the matter of a name. As a child bestowed to them by the buddha, they had to be careful with the name. It had to possess meaning. They could not just casually name him “second dog” or “big fella”.
However, they did not possess much of an education. All the children in their village from their past life possessed names like that. The old man took three hurried puffs of his pipe, but he still had no idea. He exhaled, “Sigh, old woman, why didn’t the buddha give him a name as well?”
The old woman prodded the old man’s head, saying in exasperation, “You old thing, you sure know how to find flaws in your blessings. I can’t rely on you, can I? I’ll go visit the temple and ask for one in a few days.”
However, before those few days had arrived, the child had asked the question himself. The old couple stared at one another speechlessly.
“Who am I?” the child tossed the melon peel aside and said even louder.
“I got it!” The old man slapped his knee. “You’re born from an egg, so you can be Eggborn!”
The old woman glared at the old man furiously, but the old man was completely unfazed. He said complacently, “My surname is Ruan, so you can be Ruan Eggborn.”
The old woman snatched the pipe over and smacked him over the head. “You’re a coward! You’re a coward!”
TL: Ruǎndàn, or soft egg, means coward in Chinese. Egg in Chinese is dàn, so the first part of the name sounds like coward.
The old man fought her off, even arguing back, “I’m not a coward. Why’re you hitting me?”
The child muttered, “Eggborn? I’m called Eggborn.” He automatically dropped the “Ruan”.
Suddenly, he smiled happily and bounded up. “I’m Eggborn! I want to eat more melons!”
“He’s eaten all the watermelons. What are you waiting for? Go plant some more!”
The old man picked up the melon seeds from the ground and left through the door dejectedly with a plough on his shoulders. “Eggborn” followed right behind him, ready to feast on some melons.
The old man smiled. “Don’t be in such a hurry, Eggborn. You’ll need at least ten days before they grow.”
However, “Eggborn” refused to give up, following along anyway. The old man patted him on the head and began moving between the fields to plant the seeds.
Search Hosted Novel for the original.
“Eggborn” crouched on the slope and waited, staring straight at the melon field.
“What a foolish child!” The old man shook his head with a smile, but he suddenly heard “Eggborn” mutter away.
“Grow! Grow! Grow!”
His scarlet eyes gradually turned jade-green, clear like water, verdant like leaves.
Melon sprouts burst through the earth, growing at a visible rate. They bloomed with yellow flowers and round fruit developed beneath the petals, inflating like balloons. In the next moment, the melons ripened and fell from the vines!
“Eggborn” rushed into the melon fields and grabbed a watermelon even larger than his head, throwing his head into it suddenly. He began to feast again.
The old man fell back on his bottom. “Oh my gosh! Old woman, come here and take a look at this!”
