[Reflections on the Infancy of Little Mofeng]
The little thing’s big, watery, adorable eyes appeared full of innocence. In reality, however, those pitch-black, bright eyes, flashing with sharp intelligence, were brimming with cunning.
He looked silly and guileless, but in truth, this little fellow was quite the schemer—a pure, clever little rascal.
Beneath his small, cute nose was a chubby, pouty mouth, which only added to his adorable appearance. Coupled with his baby-fat cheeks—so soft and round that one couldn't help but want to poke them—he was, in every sense of the word, a darling little cutie. And when he made those soft, milky baby sounds, it was enough to melt anyone's heart.
Such a precious, milky-sweet little thing was impossible not to love.
"Ah-hoo~"
"Ah-hoo~"
Held in Di Cangli's arms, Mofeng was fast asleep in less than a minute. One had to marvel at how wonderful youth is—he could just drop off to sleep the moment his head hit the pillow.
Watching Mofeng in his deep, quiet, and well-behaved slumber, Di Cangli grew even fonder of him. As she pondered how many spirit herbs it would take to raise such a little creature, and considering her curiosity about this tiny oddity, Di Cangli found herself momentarily dazed while watching him.
"Awoo~"
! ! !
As that milky, high-pitched "awoo" sounded, Di Cangli’s fox-like, beautiful eyes widened. Her expression filled with shock and shamed fury, and her body instantly stiffened. Even the jade hands holding Mofeng began to tremble.
It turned out that Mofeng, having fallen asleep in such an incredibly comfortable environment, was snoring away softly. In his dream, he twitched his little nose, catching the scent of a faint, wonderful fragrance. He dreamt that two massive, fragrant pears were set out before him. Accompanying that "awoo," he opened his tiny mouth and latched onto the giant pears from his dream, making "smack, smack" sounds as he slept all the more soundly.
"You little thief~"
It took several breaths before a shame-filled and furious Di Cangli regained her composure. The words were squeezed through her gritted teeth. However, looking at the tiny Mofeng sleeping so sweetly in her arms, her left hand, which had been raised high, remained frozen in the air, unable to bring itself to strike.
Perhaps this was the radiance of maternal instinct. Watching Mofeng, who occasionally smacked his lips in his deep, sweet sleep, Di Cangli took a deep breath. She felt the strange, feverish sensation spreading through her body, then looked back at the innocent, sleeping little Mofeng.
As she gazed at him, her eyes became incredibly complex. Her initial shame and anger gradually gave way to a growing tenderness. It seemed the child was starving; otherwise, why would he be dreaming of nursing? Sensing the strange sensations in her body and the tsunami-like shockwaves hitting her mind, her expression shifted from bashful, to indignant, to dazed, and finally to pity. In the end, her gaze became increasingly gentle.
Those constantly shifting, complex eyes reflected the gradual transformation of Di Cangli's attitude toward Mofeng and the complicated state of her heart.The disdain in her eyes was because, while this little fellow was soundly asleep, her own body had grown feverish and strangely sensitive, and the intense shocks pulsing through her mind had made her simply unable to bear interrupting him.
Her heartache was because this poor little fellow had appeared out of thin air in her Spirit Herb Garden; had it not been for his peculiar constitution, swallowing even a single spirit herb at random would have been enough to rupture his body from the sheer excess of energy.
Whether human or beastfolk, at the very least, when they were infants, they would have parents by their sides.
Yet this little fellow had materialized out of nowhere right here in her Spirit Herb Garden.
Not only were there countless mysteries surrounding him, but even the background of Little Mofeng was shrouded in a massive fog that made it impossible for her to see clearly or comprehend.
Appearing out of nowhere in this Spirit Herb Garden, and out of nowhere in the life of Di Cangli, Little Mofeng was like a black hole, drawing her in deeply.
She wanted to unearth every single mystery about this little fellow, wanting the mist that veiled him to be slowly parted by her own hands, waiting for her to discover the truth.
"You little pervert, you really lucked out."
"If you ever dare treat me badly in the future, I'll chop you right off."
Looking down at the sleeping Little Mofeng in her arms, Di Cangli's lips curved upward into a faint, gentle smile.
Perhaps this was the arrangement of the heavens, a predestined bond of fate.
To have such a mysterious little creature appear out of thin air in her life was simply meant to fill the void of her tens of thousands of years of solitude.
Below the Emperor Grade, no one dared to look her in the eye, and as for those of the Emperor Grade, they were either cultivation maniacs, weathered old fogies, or hopeless perverts to a man.
Yet Little Mofeng was the most peculiar and most captivating little freak she had ever laid eyes on.
He could ignore divine sense—even the divine sense of Emperor Grade powerhouses could not detect his existence.
And on top of that, he possessed an Innate Companion Soul Weapon, one in a hundred million.Moreover, he could devour those spirit herbs without his body being overwhelmed by the immense spiritual power contained within them. Every strange quirk about Little Mofeng pointed to the fact that he was a little freak of nature.
Though he was still an infant, helpless and barely able to move, he was incredibly fast and had already reached the Spirit Gathering Realm. At such a tender age, his promotion to the Emperor Grade in the future was all but guaranteed. By then, this little fellow would undoubtedly be the youngest Emperor Grade powerhouse across the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths.
Coupled with his adorable, cherubic appearance, he would make the perfect foster husband for her, Di Cangli. After all, the sense of accomplishment one felt from raising a child from infancy was something few could ever truly grasp. Ever since this little one had appeared in her life, her heart—which had remained calm and undisturbed for so long—had begun to churn with endless waves, and at times, even tempestuous storms.
"Ah..."
Just as Di Cangli was lost in thought, her body having already grown accustomed to his presence, Little Mofeng, cradled in her arms, suddenly rolled over. He turned his back to her and nudged against her with his plump, white little bottom.
This simple friction alone should not have been enough to make her go weak at the knees and collapse to the ground. The truth was that she had grown so accustomed to that strange yet exquisite sensation that its sudden absence left her feeling a profound sense of loss and emptiness.
Clutching Little Mofeng, Di Cangli sat slumped on the floor, watching as he slept soundly with his back to her, smacking his tiny lips. Seeing the drool trickling from the corner of his mouth, she cast a sultry, bewitching glance at the little one, her eyes hazy with emotion, and whispered softly, "You little heartbreaker."