311: Chapter 311 At the time, it seemed like nothing special.

The old man wore a grey jacket in the style of the 70s or 80s, his face covered in deep gullies carved by time.

His back was hunched.

Beside a crater blasted out by artillery fire,

He had set up a crooked tea stall.

A few broken wooden sticks supported a patch-filled canvas, barely shielding him from the foul-smelling black rain pelting down from the sky.

On a worn-out, small red clay stove, a kettle of water was bubbling and boiling.

The aroma of tea seemed so out of place amidst the smell of gunpowder on the battlefield.

Zhuge Jinyu led the group, protecting the mentally vacant Su Chen.

They descended slowly in front of the tea stall.

Seeing these women with their ethereal aura, as if they were immortals, descend, the old man showed no sign of panic or fear.

He simply picked up a few chipped, coarse porcelain bowls at a slow, leisurely pace.

He wiped them with the rag draped over his shoulder.

Then, without a word, he poured a bowl of steaming, coarse tea for each of the six women, including Zhuge Jinyu, and for Su Chen, who had hollow eyes and white hair.

The six women hesitated for a moment, but eventually took the bowls and took a small sip.

The taste of the tea was far from good.

It wasn't any famous tea, either.

It was just the taste of tea sold at the most ordinary stalls in the alleys of the old city.

There was nothing special about it.

"Old man, in a place like this, you could be crushed to pieces at any moment."

"As an ordinary person, why would you risk your life to set up a tea stall here?"

Cang Mingyue lifted the tea bowl, drank the tea in one gulp, and feeling that long-lost warmth, couldn't help but ask softly.

The old man wiped his face with his withered hands.

He parted his lips slightly and smiled, revealing a few yellowed teeth.

"There's no great reasoning behind it..."

"It's mainly because those boys of mine are still up there fighting."

"These little brats have loved drinking the tea I brew since they were small."

"I figured if I set up the stall a bit closer, I hope that when they get tired and thirsty from fighting, they can slip down anytime and have a cup of hot tea."

Hearing this, the six women, including Zhuge Jinyu, understood.

It seemed this was a great father who, even in the face of life and death, refused to leave and was stubbornly waiting for his sons to return from battle.

Zhuge Jinyu nodded, her gaze sweeping over the countless young faces in the sky, locked in a desperate struggle against the strange demons.

She was about to ask the old man which one in the sky was his son.

If they encountered them, they could look after them a little.

After all, meeting like this and drinking his tea meant they owed a bit of karma.

If they encountered any difficulties, with their strength, taking care of them would just be a simple effort.

But before she could speak, the old man seemed to see through her thoughts and shook his head with a smile.

"Little girl, no need to guess."

The old man said slowly as he added firewood to the stove.

"I've sold tea my whole life, dirt poor, never met anyone willing to be with me, and never married, so where would I have any flesh and blood of my own?"

Upon hearing this, Zhuge Jinyu, Ye Jingjun, and the others were all startled, a look of bewilderment flashing in their eyes.

No wife? No son? Then who were the "boys of mine" he mentioned earlier?

The old man stopped what he was doing, slowly straightened his hunched back, and looked up at the sky, which was pressed extremely low by black clouds.

Above, the roar of clashing weapons, the shrill screams of the strange demons, and the tragic roars of martial artists self-destructing all intertwined.

But in the old man's eyes, this sky full of blood and slaughter seemed to gradually fade away.

His gaze pierced through time and space, returning to the peaceful, quiet past, filled with the warmth of everyday life.

"I've been selling tea in this city for forty years."

"Back then, the world was at peace."

"My tea stall was set up right at the gate of the Third Municipal High School."

"Every day at 5:30 PM, when the shrill school bell rang."

"Heh, that was truly lively..."

"Ding-a-ling—!"

That was over twenty years ago, on a sunny summer afternoon.

The old iron gate of the Third Municipal High School was pushed open, and the shrill bell pierced the quiet street.

A few young boys in oversized school uniforms and heavy backpacks, like wild horses let loose, rushed to his tea stall, running wildly, covered in sweat and full of endless energy.

"Had P.E. class again?"

When the old man saw the boys emerging from the school gate against the wind, he had already skillfully pulled out a few tea bowls from under the stall, preparing cold tea in advance.

"Yeah, Grandpa."

"Thirsty to death, cold tea, quick!"

They skillfully picked up the coarse porcelain bowls and drank them down in one go.

Then they pulled out a few coins soaked in sweat from their pockets and slapped them onto the table with a clatter.

Back then, entertainment resources were scarce, and there wasn't much for people to watch.

It just so happened that the TV was playing shows about martial arts heroes and superheroes.

These boys loved to sneak out the red and blue face towels that cost fifty cents each from home and tie them around their necks like capes.

"Watch my sword! I'm a hero saving the world!"

The leading boy held up a chipped plastic sword, standing majestically on a bench.

"I am! I'm going to beat up all the monsters!"

Another child wearing a blue towel refused to be outdone.

The setting sun stretched their small shadows very long.

The plastic swords swung through the air, and their innocent laughter echoed through the peaceful street.

That was the purest, most innocent childhood hero dream that everyone once had.

"BOOM!!!"

A deafening roar violently tore through the old man's memories.

Above the sky, blood rain poured down.

An Abyss Demon General a hundred feet tall, wielding a giant axe made of white bones, forcibly cleaved a huge opening in the left flank of the human defense line.

The terrifying energy instantly shredded hundreds of low-stage martial artists who were blocking with their swords.

Severed limbs and broken bodies fell from the sky like tattered sacks, smashing onto the breakwater and in front of the old man's tea stall.

The front line was on the verge of collapse.

"This guy... has the strength of even a random small team leader-level strange demon already reached the Twelfth Stage?"

Ye Jingjun's beautiful eyes widened, and Zhuge Jinyu tightened her grip on her feather fan.

Ye Jingjun drew her damaged sword and swung it casually.

The Abyss Demon General instantly exploded into blood and gore.

But this was not the end.

Because, in Ye Jingjun's horrified gaze, the creature that had just exploded into a blood mist had actually, within a few seconds, reassembled into a brand new Abyss Demon General, identical to the original, and even stronger in aura.

"This... what is this?"

However, at the same time this shocking scene unfolded, the old man's gaze remained as calm as a stagnant pool of water.

He seemed not to see the death that was inches away at all, and just continued to mutter to himself.