Child of Light - Volume 12: Chapter 17 - The Great Battle Was Imminent

Zong Shou woke up from a dream and realised that he had time traveled back ten thousand years, to an era before the God Emperor was had appeared in the world.

People say that when a man becomes middle aged, their appearance and energy will become weak. Ye Qing Xin doesn’t feel that way. At least Jing Bo Yuan is not, his appearance and energy is still really great.

Jing Bo Yuan refuted: I am just thirty five years old, it’s still a long time untiI I reach middle age.

…

Jing Bo Yuan, born in a rich family, he establishes Bo Wei company, he is a great one in the business world.

Everyone thinks he is: mature, serious, strict, and fathomless.

That kind of strict, serious, and successful man, suddenly does romance with a younger woman. He marries a young wife, who is younger by fourteen years old compared to him.

Ye Qing Xin, is a little girl that leads a wandering life. She suddenly married to an old and well-known family and becomes the object of jealousy of everyone.

…

According to the gossip, Mrs Jing is a vixen that hooks with her pure of heart and few desires. She makes the strict Mr Jing falls in love with her.

Another gossip, Mr Jing spoils his young wife without any limit.

During an interview.

Interviewer: “It’s known that Mr Jing at first to marry Mrs Jing because of her young age and beautiful face, is that right? Except her beauty, is there any good point about her?”

Jing Bo Yuan: “I love her. I don’t care whether she is beautiful or not. I married her. She doesn’t need to have any good point. Falling in love with me is her greatest good point.”

The interviewer is surprised and asks: “Mr Jing and Mrs Jing, when was your first meeting? How did you get to know each other?”

Jing Bo Yuan: “Our first time meeting was fifteen years ago…”

Interviewer: “….”

Fifteen years ago, he saved her. Fifteen years after, he gives her a life.

……..

Twenty one years old Ye Qing Xin became the most loved one in the Jing family.

Old Madame Jing: “Xin Xin ah, hurry up and drink this bowl of bird nest.”

Old Mister Jing: “Xin Xin ah, this jade bracelet from our ancestor is for you.”

Papa Jing: “Xin Xin ah, this card is for you, you can buy everything you want, don’t be too modest.”

Third uncle of Jing: “Bo Yuan, don’t you bully Xin Xin, if so I and your Third auntie will not let you off!”

Third auntie: “Em Em Em!”

Second Uncle: “I don’t have anything, I will just send you a special bodyguard.”

Ye Qing Xin: “…..” I’m just pregnant, why are they doing all of this?

- Description from Novelupdates

“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

……………………………………………………………

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