Golden sunlight spilled across the peaceful hills and grasslands of Fengxuan Kingdom.
At the edge of Fengxuan Kingdom, nestled in the shadow of Mount Yunxu, the land lay quiet and serene. The morning air was crisp, laced with the scent of wildflowers and soil still damp from the night's dew. Wandering silver streams reflected the golden light as birds called out in song.
"Mo'er!" a voice called out from the distance—calm but firm. It was Meng Qingshan, his father.
But Sheng Mo wasn't in the fields.
He was asleep, high up in the branches of an old plum tree that stood near the edge of the farmland. One leg dangling, arms folded behind his head, he rested with the kind of ease that made the world around him feel quieter. The chirping of birds echoed around him, blending with the breeze. Sunlight flickered between the swaying leaves, casting dappled shadows across his face.
Though only fifteen, Sheng Mo was tall and lean, his posture marked by quiet discipline.
His features held a striking handsomeness—clear brows, a well-defined jaw, and an aura that seemed beyond his years. His face carried a noble calm, often drawing second glances from passersby.
His eyes were deep and captivating, unlike anything the villagers had ever seen. A swirling blend of golden white and void black, they shimmered softly with each shift of light.
Their beauty was so mesmerizing that not only young maidens, but even mature women found themselves drawn to his gaze—unable to look away. Anyone who met his eyes felt as if they stood at the edge of a vast, unseen world, both beautiful and unknowable.
His dark hair, tousled slightly by the wind, framed his face naturally.
His hair drifted with the morning breeze as he lay quietly in the plum tree, strands brushing softly against his face. The sunlight touched his skin, casting a warm glow that spoke of countless mornings spent under the sky. Even in sleep, his expression stayed calm—like the stillness before rain.
"Coming…" he mumbled, voice thick with sleep, as he lazily opened one eye toward the sound.
That evening, as the sun dipped low behind the hills, Sheng Mo's mother, Li Mei, prepared dinner while his father tended to the animals. Sheng Mo was chopping firewood in the yard.
The next morning, Sheng Mo approached his mother and asked her to let him go to the old shrine temple in the jungle. But she refused.
He asked her again, but she still refused.
He begged once more. Looking at his calm face, she wanted to say no again—but seeing that expression, she couldn't bring herself to deny him. She hesitated.
At that moment, Sheng Mo gave a small, charming smile, grabbed his stick, and ran toward the forest.
"I'll be careful, and I won't go too far!" he shouted back.
Li Mei stood in silence, watching the forest swallow her son.
While walking deep into the woods, Sheng Mo hummed softly, hands behind his head, the stick resting comfortably along his shoulders. The forest air was cool and quiet, filled only with the sound of leaves rustling and distant birds.
After walking for a while, he spotted the temple in the clearing and paused.
The old temple stood worn and quiet, its wooden gate half-covered in moss, with faded prayer ribbons fluttering faintly in the breeze. Stone lanterns lined the broken path, and wild vines curled along the base of its walls. Sheng Mo looked around, watching the shadows shift through the trees. He sat down for a moment on one of the mossy stones near the temple's steps, letting the breeze pass over him.
Then, as he looked up, he noticed something on top of a nearby small mount—an empty clearing with a single, massive tree standing at the edge of it.
Curious, he climbed up.
But as he reached a narrow ledge, the rock beneath him gave way. Sheng Mo lost his footing and tumbled downward—straight into a hidden cavern below.
The fall was short, and he landed on soft moss. Though the cave was dim, faintly glowing stones along the walls cast enough light for him to see. The tunnel sloped gently upward, winding into darkness.
He walked, step by step, deeper into the mountain.
Eventually, he saw a faint light ahead. As he neared, he stepped into a vast chamber. There, coiled silently, was a massive serpent—white as moonlight and as long as a river.
Its body stretched across the far end of the cave, and above it, a great opening let in a shaft of sunlight. The moment Sheng Mo arrived, the serpent stirred.
Its eyes opened—not with menace, but with a deep, ancient calm.
Sheng Mo froze.
Then the serpent slowly opened its mouth and spoke, its voice echoing through the chamber. "Do not be afraid. I mean no harm... nor can I give it, in this form."
It blinked slowly. "How did you find this place?"
Sheng Mo took a cautious breath. "I… I was at the temple. Then I saw this ridge. I climbed, but the path gave way… and I fell into this cave."
"I didn't mean to disturb you," he added. "I didn't even know anyone was here."
The serpent's gaze lingered. "Then who are you?"
Sheng Mo quickly said, "My name is Sheng Mo. I live in the nearby village with my parents."
Xuanshi narrowed his gaze. "I can sense the presence of cultivators around you."
Sheng Mo nodded. "They are my parents. They used to be outer disciples of a sect. But they left and chose a peaceful life in the village."
The serpent's gaze deepened. "Then why have you not begun cultivating?"
Sheng Mo replied, "My parents said… when I turn eighteen, they'll begin to teach me."
The serpent gave a long sigh. "That age may suit ordinary cultivators. But from what I see, your potential is far from ordinary. With your talent, you should have started long ago."
"I say this because of what I sense in you," it said slowly. "Because of that same talent, others will either be jealous of you… or seek to use you. Strength is not just a path—it is your shield. Only with strength, and a mind clear like still water, can you survive in a world as cruel as this."
The serpent closed its eyes for a moment, then opened them again—this time, a faint green glow shimmering in its pupils. A small light flickered toward Sheng Mo.
Instinctively, Sheng Mo raised his hands to shield himself—but the light faded harmlessly against him.
The serpent let out a low hum. "You… I see."
"I also realized," the creature said softly, "I haven't introduced myself."
"My name is Xuanshi," it continued. "Once the clan head of the Primordial Void Serpent Clan."
Sheng Mo asked softly, "Once?"
The serpent's voice grew lower, slower. "Destroyed by humans… with help from demons."
He looked at the great serpent. "Then… why? Why did they destroy your clan?"
"Because of our bloodline."
"For humans, bloodline isn't everything. They care more about spiritual roots, or special constitutions."
"But for us—magical beasts, especially those descended from ancient lineages—bloodline is everything."
"To us, it defines our strength, our status, and our growth. But others… others see our blood as a treasure."
"Human cultivators, demons—even some beasts—they can absorb bloodlines. Not always, but if they succeed, it enhances their spiritual roots or constitution."
"And that's why… we were hunted. Betrayed. Erased."
The serpent fell silent, breath slow.
Sheng Mo stood quietly. The silence between them wasn't empty—it was heavy, like a stone waiting to break.
"…Then why didn't you kill me?" he asked. "Didn't you hate the humans?"
Xuanshi slowly exhaled. "Just as I said before—I cannot do anything right now. My cultivation is nearly gone. My body is buried deep in this mountain, and the energy here is thin. I can barely move."
"As for why I didn't kill you…"
A pause.
"I sensed no greed in you. No hunger, no malice. Even though I am a magical beast, we too have our own pride. I will not harm an innocent child—one who might one day walk a greater path."
Sheng Mo stared in silence.
Xuanshi's eyes shimmered with distant light. "And there is another reason."
He raised his gaze toward the shaft of light above. "Before our destruction, I sealed one thing away. Our last legacy—one that could not fall into the hands of the greedy."
Sheng Mo's brows furrowed. "What legacy?"
Xuanshi's voice deepened.
"My child. It holds the last royal bloodline of my clan."
A hum rose from deep within the cavern. Slowly, from the far end of the chamber, the stones parted.
Floating in the air, cradled by glowing runes, was a pale egg the size of a boulder. Its surface shimmered between silver and void black, runes moving like rivers beneath its shell.
Sheng Mo took a step back.
"What is that?" he whispered.
Xuanshi spoke softly. "It is not a beast. Not yet. It is a soul waiting to awaken. If you choose to bond with it, it will grow with you—share your life, your strength… and your dangers."
"But once awakened," he warned, "there is no going back. If people see it, eyes will turn—and your peaceful life will end."
Sheng Mo's heart pounded.
He looked at the egg, then at Xuanshi. "And if I don't?"
"Even if he awakens—or even if I try to keep him here forever—he may still be discovered. I don't have much time left. At most, I can guard him for two or three years. After that… if fate turns cruel, he could be captured by human cultivators or slain by wandering beasts. I won't be able to protect him once he leaves this place."
Sheng Mo fell silent, eyes fixed on the glowing egg.
Then, slowly, he walked forward—until the runes around it began to pulse.
He reached out a hand.
Xuanshi did not stop him and said, "Drop your blood onto it."
Sheng Mo bit his finger and dropped two or three drops of his blood onto it.
Suddenly, the egg started glowing.
After a few minutes of glowing, it began to hatch.
Crack. Crack.
The cracking sounds echoed in the chamber.
From a crack, a small tail—beautiful and slender—emerged.
As the shell slowly broke away, the delicate face of a small snake appeared. So adorable… even Xuanshi himself couldn't look away from its appearance.
Then, the little snake slowly opened its eyes—soft, glowing with a silvery sheen. First, it looked at Sheng Mo. Then it turned its gaze toward Xuanshi.
But instead of crawling, it suddenly flew toward Sheng Mo.
With a soft flick of its tongue, it curled up into Sheng Mo's hands, nuzzling against his fingers, then gently brushing its face against his cheek.
Sheng Mo froze, confused. "W–What is happening?"
Xuanshi's deep voice echoed gently, filled with a faint sorrow and warmth.
"Because you dropped your own blood onto the egg… he now sees you as one of his own."
"You are no longer a stranger. He recognizes you… as his father."
Sheng Mo stared at the little serpent, still nestled against him. Then he whispered, "Then… what about you?"
Xuanshi gazed at the small creature, eyes full of silence.
"As long as he survives… as long as he lives," he said quietly, "that is everything to me."
"Now… since he recognizes you, you should give him a name."
Sheng Mo looked down again and said softly, "Since he's going to live with me… I'll give him my name."
Xuanshi nodded, voice calm and resolute.
Sheng Mo looked into the serpent's innocent silver eyes and whispered his name:
"Sheng-Dao."
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*Leave a comment if you enjoyed reading this chapter! 🌟 Your thoughts, theories, or just a few kind words mean a lot. Let me know what you think about Sheng Mo, Xuanshi, and little Sheng-Dao!