Chapter 937: Chapter 1: Auspicious Omen in the Western Regions, the Legend Begins

“I’m a little scared.”

Only when saying these words did the girl’s serene voice like flowing water carry a hint of tremor.

Li Guanyi grasped Shaking Light’s palm as the two of them fell from the sky.

The young man pulled hard, drawing the girl who was falling with him into his embrace. Li Guanyi held Shaking Light with one arm and gripped the Fierce Tiger Sky Shouting Halberd with the other. Calling upon the Qilin now was too late, and the Qilin had a satisfied expression on its face.

Li Guanyi’s Inner Qi surrounded his body as he exhaled.

Already fallen.

……

Saatanati and her tribe halted at a corner of the lake. The night around Kanas Pearl Lake was crystal clear and tranquil, lacking the daytime gemstone-like serenity, replaced with a somber, life-devouring sensation.

Saatanati pressed her lips together and looked at her grandmother holding her, feeling uncomfortable. Their tribe was small, only about eighteen hundred people, living with some cattle and sheep, striving to survive on this vast land. When arriving at Kanas Pearl Lake, according to tradition,

elders over fifty-five were left there.

It’s said the spirit of the lake is a compassionate and merciful mother who protects the children walking such a long path, when Flying Eagles circle the sky fifty-five times, the children traveling the earthly realm should return to the mother’s embrace.

There, they can enjoy eternal warmth, have abundant food always, and need not labor arduously, nor survive on the earth.

Saatanati gripped the dagger at her waist, watching the elders take off their clothes to leave them for the tribe, kissing the children, prepared to stay there, faces marked with gentleness, fear, and numbness.

The girl pressed her lips together.

She understood that these were words meant to deceive children.

Leaving the elders here was because they couldn’t endure the impending trek, the summer desert dryness, lacking water and food; in this age, they would become burdens slowing the tribe’s progress.

The tribe must reserve food for the young and children, abandoning elders who couldn’t hunt or protect the tribe at the lake’s edge, leaving some food, letting these elders fend for themselves.

When she was young, she asked her grandmother, who said she had to stay here, unable to walk together.

When young, she asked her grandmother if she would be like this too?

Her grandmother kindly patted her head and replied, “Yes.”

“Every family, every person, goes through this.”

“Grandmother also once left grandmother’s mother, grandmother’s Ah Mu, here.”

“Led the calves and foals away, listening to their jingles and cries fade, step by step, not looking back.”

“So, you must, in a while, also not look back, not regret, not cry, do you understand?”

Now the majestic Flying Eagles had circled the sky for five years, once more time to place the elders in the goddess’s arms at the lake. Saatanati clutching the dagger was heartbroken, looking to the skies, recalling the legends her grandmother told in youth:

“Long ago, it was told there was such a legend.”

“That the sacred mountain where spirits dwell was occupied by demons, who burned the grasslands, froze the glaciers, stopped the rivers from flowing, and even the lake goddess’s embrace lost its light, the earth filled with conflict and disaster.”

“At that time, a brave youth climbed the mountain, beseeching the spirits for grace, the spirits commiserated with his plight, admired his courage, thus bestowing this proclamation.”

“Saying, Tian Ge’er, Tian Ge’er.”

“A hero would descend to the mortal realm, breaking calamity, eliminating conflict; this was before the Hun King of the Western Regions, the first great hero exchanged only in oral tradition.”

“Saying, Tian Ge’er.”

Saatanati was in tears, saying, “Tian Ge’er, Tian Ge’er…”

Her soft murmuring left the elders dazed; even the adults conducting the ceremony felt sorrowful, eyes teary, someone spoke, “In this season, why not wait until next year?”

Yet, a man with a bristly beard, daggers at his waist, shouted with red eyes, tears streaming, “No way, no way, traditions are traditions.”

He reacted seeing his father and mother among those elders, his heart writhing in pain.

Food was insufficient, the elders ailing and sick; the summer desert would blaze with heat, triggering plague, endangering children. Clutching his knives, he shouted, “Returning to the lake Goddess is far better than climbing the mountain ’til the Longevity Heaven envoy Flying Eagles carve innards into the earth.”

“What else can be dissatisfying?”

“Unless there is truly Tian Ge’er…”

Boom!!!!

A gust of wind exploded forth, its wailing swept across, Saatanati’s eyes widened, the tribe peered through the night and torchlight toward there, a silhouette fell from the sky, entangled in fiery gold flames and nine-colored brilliance, landing heavily.

Boom!!!!

A faint illusion of a red Divine Dragon was present; someone, just like in legends, crushed the ceremonial weapon of the tribe, fire dispersing, black hair slightly lifted, cradling a silver-haired beautiful girl.

Like a hero from myths, heeding the call, he descended onto the earth.

A silence, solemnness ensued.

Li Guanyi slowly lifted his head, staring at the pulverized ancient artifact he had shattered, gaze solidifying, surveying around, lighting up the surroundings, seeing men standing densely, torch in one hand, curved blade in another, the young man was silent, lifted his head looking far away, eyes vacant.

Distant, in Jiangnan’s auntie, Grandpa.

I am Guan Yi.

Reaching the Western Regions on the first day did not go smoothly.

It seems I kind of toppled something like their Ancestor Artifact.