234: Han Li reincarnation

The time in Xishi Village flowed peacefully and slowly, much like the clear stream beside the village.

A Xue (Ink Snow) had gradually grown accustomed to this rhythm of working at sunrise and resting at sunset. She took care of the adopted child, Shitou, and integrated herself into this small world.

She deliberately restrained all her extraordinary perceptions, allowing herself to truly immerse in the role of this "Mortal life," like a pebble washed by running water, becoming increasingly smooth and hiding all her sharp edges.

One day, the sky was clear and the breeze was gentle.

A Xue was drying washed clothes in the courtyard, while Shitou was clumsily yet earnestly feeding a few newly hatched, fluffy chicks, his small face filled with an unprecedented focus and brilliance.

Far outside the village, on the rolling hills, the grass was lush and dotted with wildflowers.

A seven or eight-year-old cowherd boy was lying lazily on a lush meadow, a sweet blade of grass in his mouth, legs crossed, staring blankly at the blue sky and white clouds.

His name was Han Erniu, the only child of the Han Laoshuan family at the end of the village.

The name was crude, but he was handsome and delicate, unlike the tough and rough children of ordinary farming families; instead, he had a scholarly air about him. His temperament was also somewhat sullen; he didn't like to talk and preferred to be alone or stay with the family's gentle old ox.

The old ox was slowly grazing nearby, its tail occasionally flicking to drive away flies, letting out a satisfied snort.

With the ox's movements, the cowbell made a crisp, monotonous clanging sound, making the wilderness on the hillside seem even more tranquil.

Han Erniu stared at the sky, his eyes somewhat vacant.

He didn't like playing with the wild children in the village who ran around the mountains, dug up bird nests, and had mud fights; he always felt they were too noisy.

He enjoyed this solitude more. Although his mind was empty and he didn't have any specific thoughts, this state of zoning out made him feel very comfortable.

The sunlight shone warmly on him, and the fresh scent of grass mixed with the earthy smell of soil drifted into his nose.

Unknowingly, he closed his eyes, almost drifting off to sleep.

Just then—

His right hand, which was resting casually in the grass beside him, suddenly felt an extremely faint but unmistakable warmth in his palm.

The sensation was very strange; it wasn't the warmth of sunlight, but a subtle, almost living pulse coming from beneath his skin.

Han Erniu jolted, his drowsiness instantly dispelled.

He sat up abruptly, staring in surprise at his right palm.

Near his wrist, that dark red birthmark shaped like an oval leaf, which he had had since he could remember, was now emitting a very faint, almost imperceptible, lustrous glow!

The glow was not continuous; it flickered extremely weakly, like breathing, matching that warm, pulsing sensation.

"Huh?" Han Erniu widened his eyes, his dark, bright pupils filled with surprise and confusion.

He rubbed his eyes vigorously, brought his palm to his face, and looked carefully.

It was true! The birthmark was really glowing!

Although it was faint, in the sunlight, he could clearly see the glimmer beneath that small patch of skin, and the subtle, leaf-vein-like patterns seemed to have become clearer.

What was going on?

He had never seen such a scene before.

This birthmark was usually painless and itchy, and its color was ordinary. The elders in the village had even said it was a "leaf mark," a symbol of being grounded and easy to raise.

But he had never heard of anyone's birthmark glowing and heating up on its own.

Curiously, he carefully touched the glowing birthmark with his left index finger.

Hum—

At the moment of contact, an extremely weak but incomparably cool and refreshing flow of Qi seemed to emerge from the center of the birthmark, instantly spreading up his arm and rushing straight to the top of his head!

Han Erniu shuddered, not from cold, but from an indescribable, whole-body comfort, as if drinking a mouthful of iced well water on a dog day, refreshing his entire being.

The world before his eyes seemed to become exceptionally clear and bright at that moment; the grass was greener, the sky was bluer, and even the sound of the old ox chewing grass in the distance could be heard clearly.

But this strange feeling only lasted for an instant before receding like a tide.

The birthmark on his palm quickly returned to its original state, and the faint glow and warmth disappeared, as if everything just now was just his hallucination.

The little cowherd sat blankly on the grass, spreading his palm, looking at it again and again, his small face full of confusion and bewilderment.

Was his eyesight failing?

Or was he confused from the sun?

He shook his right hand and rubbed the birthmark hard against his clothes until the skin turned red, but the birthmark showed no further reaction.

"Moo—"

At this moment, the old ox nearby seemed to be full. It raised its head, let out a gentle low, and used its huge head to gently nudge its little master's back, seemingly urging him that it was time to go home.

Han Erniu came back to his senses. Although he still had doubts in his heart, the nature of a child quickly distracted him.

He patted his bottom and stood up, pulling the old ox's reins.

"Let's go, Old Yellow, time to go home."

He led the ox, walking slowly down the slope, the setting sun stretching his and the old ox's shadows very long.

He couldn't help but raise his right hand to look again; the leaf-shaped birthmark was quiet, as if nothing had happened.

That was not an ordinary birthmark, but a sliver of an undying mark left behind from his past life's Dao fruit Origin, deeply connected to that little green bottle.

In this pastoral landscape of consciousness, suppressed by Law, and devoid of Spiritual Qi, it should have remained dormant forever.

However, perhaps because the sunlight was just right today, or perhaps because of a coincidence of Feng Shui, or perhaps a sliver of an extremely weak, unconscious fluctuation from the will of the stars had touched it... it had actually awakened for a brief, faint moment.

Han Erniu naturally did not understand these things.

He just felt that today's events were a bit strange, but the thought was quickly replaced by the idea of going home and his stomach growling.

He even thought about whether he should tell his parents about this?

Forget it, his father would probably scold him for letting his imagination run wild instead of herding the cattle properly.

He shook his head, cast these little doubts to the back of his mind, hummed a random, tuneless mountain song he had heard somewhere, and led the old ox slowly toward the village where cooking smoke was rising.

At the village entrance, A Xue had just finished hanging up the clothes and was preparing to take Shitou back into the house.

She stood up, her gaze inadvertently sweeping over the person and the ox coming down from the hillside in the distance.

Her gaze had originally just swept over casually, but it paused slightly when it touched the small figure leading the ox, walking aimlessly.

An extremely subtle, indescribable sense of familiarity, like a small pebble thrown into a calm lake, sent a ripple that could almost be ignored deep within her dormant consciousness.

The feeling was fleeting, too fast to catch the source.

She frowned slightly and focused her gaze.

It was just an ordinary farm cowherd boy, dark and thin, with nothing special about him.

Was it an illusion?

Or... was this simulation of the pastoral landscape of consciousness too real, even she was becoming immersed in it?

"Aunt A Xue, what are you looking at?" Shitou tugged at the corner of her clothes and asked, looking up with his small face.

A Xue retracted her gaze and suppressed that inexplicable palpitation, gently touching Shitou's head: "Nothing."

"Let's go, it's time to make dinner."

She took Shitou's hand and turned into the small courtyard.

In the distance, Han Erniu also led the ox into the familiar alley at the end of the village.

The setting sun spilled its last rays over the village, a scene of peace.

No one knew that a seed containing the immense Karma of a past civilization had already quietly fallen in this ordinary pastoral land.

Just waiting for the wind to rise.