Chapter 125: Past Life Chapter (1): The Ancient Tree Goddess

Tens of thousands of years ago, there was a mountain in this world called Kunlun.

Kunlun Mountain was covered in snow year-round. At its misty peak, by the edge of a cliff, stood the Kunlun Undying Tree.

War raged across the land, and the demon race ran rampant.

Despite the alliance between humans and demons, they were unable to drive the demonic race out.

Countless prodigies and heroes of the human realm were either captured or perished under the demons’ blades.

Just as despair took hold, a woman descended from Kunlun Mountain. Her name was Nian.

With her power alone, she defeated the demon horde, sealed them within the Demon Realm, and established a boundary between the human and demon realms, granting humanity a chance to recover.

People revered her as a deity and called her the Ancient Tree Goddess.

But after that, she was never seen again.

What they didn’t know was that Nian did not die in battle, nor did she retreat from the world—she became what was known as the Heavenly Dao.

—

Nian had been the Heavenly Dao for tens of thousands of years.

The heavens were sparse, with only scattered greenery, artificial mountains, and palace pavilions. Though seemingly monotonous, it carried its own charm.

Time flowed endlessly, and she should have long forgotten mortal emotions. She was meant to be indifferent, devoid of feeling. Yet, Nian found the eternal solitude of the heavens unbearable.

After thousands of years, she grew tired of it. She decided to descend into the mortal world—to play with some children. No, to take in disciples and find successors.

Before leaving, she transformed a portion of her divine power into an avatar to oversee the affairs of the human realm in her stead.

Nian asked, “What name would you like?”

The avatar, both thrilled and overwhelmed, stammered, “I… I can choose for myself?”

Nian smiled gently.

“Of course.”

Grasping the hem of her dress nervously, the avatar hesitated before saying, “I… I want to be called Tang Murou. Is that okay?”

“Alright.”

Nian patted her head with a smile and then descended into the mortal world.

She took on a human name—Jiang Niannian.

But little did she expect that the one time she acted out of compassion, she would bring upon the Three Realms a catastrophe of unprecedented scale.

—

The moment Jiang Niannian descended, she arrived on a battlefield.

The battle had just ended—corpses piled high, rivers of blood flowed, and resentment filled the air. Snow fell in June.

Amidst the entire battlefield, there was no sign of life—except for a single teenage boy.

He wore a tattered, thin garment. His face was pale, his frame emaciated, yet his features were delicate, carrying a hint of eerie beauty.

What caught Jiang Niannian’s attention, however, were his blood-red eyes.

An ominous, deathly presence.

The boy struggled to crawl out of the corpse pile. Gasping for breath, he sat for a moment before dragging a body into a secluded corner, shielding himself from the snow. He curled up on the ground, blowing warm air onto his frostbitten hands.

Jiang Niannian wondered if the corpse was a loved one or a friend. Otherwise, why would someone so weak drag it along?

But in the next instant, the boy lowered his head—and bit into the corpse, tearing off a chunk of flesh.

He chewed dryly and swallowed.

The sound of footsteps approached. The boy stiffened and turned his head abruptly, eyes fierce—only to freeze in shock.

He had never seen such a beautiful person before.

In the dim light, the figure before him was dressed in pure white—even her cloak was white—yet she carried a red oil-paper umbrella.

Just that one glance, and before he even realized it, his heart pounded. His palms grew sweaty, his breathing instinctively softened.

“Are you… an immortal?”

Jiang Niannian paid no mind to his reaction. She simply looked at the blood on his hands and mouth, frowning slightly.

“You little one, why are you eating humans?”

The boy snapped out of his daze. Glancing at his tattered clothes and bloodstained hands, he let out a self-mocking laugh.

“Besides corpses, is there anything else left to eat here?”

Lowering his head, his voice grew even softer.

“If I don’t eat, how will I survive…?”

Jiang Niannian felt a pang of pity. She thought—perhaps she should take this child as a disciple.

He was steeped in resentment, cold-blooded and somber.

If left unchecked, with his nature, he could one day bring disaster upon the mortal realm.

It would be better to keep him by her side and raise him properly—to eliminate a future threat.

With that thought, Jiang Niannian asked, “Would you like to follow me and call me Master? I won’t let you starve again, alright?”

The boy didn’t even lift his head. He tore off another piece of flesh, chewing as he asked, “What do you want from me?”

Jiang Niannian shook the snow off her umbrella, walked over, and held it above his head. Crouching down, she smiled warmly.

“I want to raise you well, make you happy every day. Does that count?”

She was quite good at coaxing children.

The boy stared at her with those red, deathly eyes for a long time.

So long that Jiang Niannian wondered if she’d turn into a mushroom from squatting there.

Finally, he chuckled meaningfully.

“Master, from now on, I’ll be in your care.”

A few drops of blood splattered across his devilishly handsome face, contrasting sharply against his pale skin—a chilling sight.

“Of course,” Jiang Niannian replied with a smile.

“What’s your name?”

The boy hesitated for a moment. A flicker of something unreadable flashed in his eyes, though it carried less of the deathly aura from before.

He answered, “I am Yin Li.”