DNDAS

Chapter 82: Little Kid

What did it feel like before birth?

Warm? Safe? Disconcerting?

Zhuang Qing couldn't open his eyes. He felt like an unborn fetus, cocooned in warmth. Someone was singing an incomprehensible folk song in the distance, the tune strange yet familiar.

"The universe contains all that is living. The skies are vast, the earth is boundless. Likewise, all that is living is immense. The universe was a formless mass at first; the skies became the skies, the earth became the earth, and everything came to life."

"Heavenly law is ruthless, but also sentimental. All life forms have an opportunity to live; the dead are also alive, and the living are also dead."

"There is no eternal life in the world, but there is eternity..."

Zhuang Qing opened his eyes and found his soul standing on a dark red river. Stunning red flowers bloomed aplenty along both sides of the river. He was standing on a black sailboat. The ferryman was wearing a conical bamboo man and was clothed in a black-azure robe, the empty edges of his robe fluttering in the air.

"Where are you bringing me?" Zhuang Qing lowered his head and saw that he was wearing a brocade gown embroidered with gorgeous dark patterns.

"Naturally, I'm sending you to the place you should be at," The ferryman didn't even turn his head. "Young Master has altered the fiend's fate of turning into the scourge of the world. Young Master possesses countless virtue and will be a monarch in your next life, certain to leave your name in the annals."

Zhuang Qing realized then that he was dreaming.

Cultivators didn't dream easily, but if they did, then it served as an omen.

The ferryman once again launched into song, singing the same strange tune. Zhuang Qing stood at the edge of the boat and watched the scenery on both sides of the river slowly go past. He saw his reflection on the river. This was not his face.

Or rather, this was not how he looked.

The reflection on the river was blurry, and he couldn't make out his appearance very clearly, but Zhuang Qing could tell with one glance that he did not have such a stature, nor would he wear clothes for the dead.

A white jade band with a flying dragon. A black robe with golden patterns. The style of this attire was, however, that of people who had passed on.

"This is the Wangchuan River?"

He felt something itchy on his cheek. He wiped a hand against it, and a dark red bloody blotch appeared on his palm.

"Young Master has extraordinary knowledge..." The ferryman turned to look at him. An odd look took shape on his aged face. Soon after, he stopped rowing. "Young Master has come to the wrong place."

Zhuang Qing looked at him silently.

It was said that the underworld ferrymen were the ones who transported newly deceased ghosts across the Wangchuan River, from the hands of the yinchai to the Eighteenth Yama Palace to have their fates told by the Judges of the underworld.

Zhuang Qing recalled that the underworld had already modernized its management practices for a very long time. A tall bridge had been erected over the Wangchuan River, along with regular bus services. The ferrymen had long lost their jobs; some had started cruise businesses, and he had heard that they were getting by quite well.

"I'll send you back," The ferryman bowed deeply to Zhuang Qing before turning the boat back.

Water gurgled. There was a gentle breeze. If not for the strange color of the riverwater, one would very easily think about the beautiful and peaceful Jiangnan Three Moons. The ferryman once again sang that strange tune. Zhuang Qing closed his eyes, latched onto the peculiarities in the air, and struggled free of the dreamscape.