mesbooks Chapter 293 Blindness
Chapter 293 Blindness
Fifteen years ago, in Jianggucheng.
The demons attacked the town, leaving it in ruins.
The once bustling and prosperous town is now a ruin. The streets are filled with rubble and broken walls, and the charred houses emit a pungent smell, with wisps of black smoke slowly rising in the deathly silence. The trees along the street have been uprooted, their charred branches twisted and twisted, as if telling the story of the atrocities they suffered.
The survivors huddled in a corner, their eyes filled with fear and despair. They stared at the horrific scene before them, sobbing softly, and the air was thick with pain and sorrow.
The demons invaded their homeland, killing their family and friends, leaving them only in a state of panic.
Displaced people have no choice but to leave their homes and wander around, hoping to survive.
At the city gate, a little beggar huddled up and slowly walked into Jianggu City. His clothes were tattered, as if they had been torn apart by countless vicious dogs, or as if they had endured the torment of countless cold winters. His trousers were ridiculously short, revealing calves that were skin and bones, covered with bruises and welts.
He lowered his head, raised his hand to cover his eyes, and held a broken porcelain bowl in his hand as he carefully crossed the street.
Another town attacked by demons; looks like we won't have enough to eat today.
Thinking this, the child casually found a corner to sit down, with his broken porcelain bowl in front of him.
Just then, he smelled a delicious aroma, and his stomach began to rumble in protest.
The child saw a cultivator dressed in a fairy robe distributing meat buns from a basket. Clutching his stomach, he cautiously approached, hoping to get a bun.
He hadn't eaten for three days and was even starting to stagger. If he didn't get any food soon, he probably wouldn't make it through the night.
However, the child cautiously covered his eyes and walked towards the monk with his head down.
The child carefully reached out his hand, and a hot bun landed in his palm.
Clutching the steamed bun, he excitedly left the crowd and ran towards the corner where his small porcelain bowl was placed.
However, while he was looking down, he accidentally bumped into someone, lost his balance, and fell to the ground.
"Demons! It's demons!" the man exclaimed.
As he spoke, more and more people gathered around, and insults rang out.
"Damn demons, it's all your fault that my family was destroyed!"
"You burned down my house, and you still dare to show your face!"
"I'm going to kill you! I'm going to avenge my family!"
……
With each angry shout, a barrage of punches and kicks rained down on the child. Amidst the shouts and cries of pain, the child curled up on the ground, clutching his head, struggling desperately for a chance to survive, but the encirclement tightened.
"Don't panic, everyone. I'll subdue the demonic cultivator!" The cultivator drew his sword and approached step by step.
People spontaneously made way for the child, their eyes filled with hatred and anger as they stared at him menacingly.
The child struggled to his feet, and when he looked up, he saw the monk walking towards him.
He waved his hands repeatedly, his voice trembling as he cried out, "I'm not a demon... Ah!"
Before he could finish speaking, a sword blade flew over and struck him heavily.
He clutched his wound, writhing on the ground in pain, raising a cloud of dust.
"Why don't you have any demonic energy?" The cultivator's puzzled voice rang in my ears.
Everyone was astonished; this child was not a demon.
"Wait a minute, I clearly saw that his eyes were scarlet red, isn't that a symbol of the demon race?"
"I saw it too."
"How can he have such eyes? No wonder we mistook him for someone else."
……
The crowd dispersed, but a few curses could still be heard.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," the monk apologized apologetically, and stepped forward to help the child up.
At that moment, the communication token on his waist vibrated, and he learned that his junior brothers and sisters had been attacked by the demons.
The cultivator disregarded everything else and flew away on his sword.
The child struggled to his feet, but fell to the ground. His lips trembled, his hands flailed, but he couldn't utter a single word.
Because he discovered that everything in front of him was pitch black.
His hands trembled as he touched his face, where a sword wound was bleeding profusely.
His eyes, injured by the sword energy, were now blind.
"No, no!" The child struggled in agony, his hands gripping the ground tightly, the sand rubbing against his palms and leaving streaks of blood.
"Boom!"
A deafening clap of thunder boomed out, like the muffled beat of a drum. A torrential downpour began, the raindrops larger than anyone could imagine, pounding heavily on the ground with a "thump-thump" sound.
Blood mingled with rainwater, and the biting cold made the child shiver uncontrollably; his sobbing cries were drowned out by the sound of the rain.
He could no longer see. Even though those eyes, which were like those of the demons, brought him countless beatings and insults, it was also those eyes that allowed him to see the world and that enabled him to survive.
But now, all he could see was darkness.
He didn't know how long the rain had been falling, but he slowly got up and looked for a place to shelter from the rain.
The wind howled, almost knocking him off his feet, and all he could see was endless darkness. He was frantic, his hands groping wildly in front of him, trying to find even the slightest sign of shelter.
The thunder terrified him, the downpour chilled him to the bone, and he groped his way forward in the dark, only to bump into walls one after another.
Even if you finally find a house to shelter you from the rain, the people inside will ruthlessly kick you out as soon as you step inside.
"Little beggar, this is our territory, get out!"
After being repeatedly rejected, the child could only wander aimlessly through the streets in the rain.
The rain instantly soaked him completely, his clothes clinging to his body, and his hair disheveled. He lowered his head, his hands hanging limply at his sides, and walked forward aimlessly.
I don't know how long I walked, but the rain finally stopped.
As night fell, the child walked on and on, the cold of the night making him shiver uncontrollably, his clothes chilly, yet he could hear no one.
Has he left the town?
Keep moving forward, and even if you encounter obstacles and fall down, the child will still get up.
His stomach rumbled, and he felt increasingly weak.
However, he did not stop. He wanted to get as far away from that town as possible, and he did not want to look back.
Hunger, fear, and loneliness spread through his heart, and the darkness before him made him uncontrollably afraid.
Suddenly, he smelled the fresh scent of bamboo, and heard the whistling wind. The wind swept through like a ferocious beast. The bamboo leaves trembled and rustled, each one struggling against the powerful force, yet powerless to resist. The sound of the wind, carrying the rustling of the bamboo leaves, sometimes low like a sob, sometimes high like a scream, echoed through the valley.
The child calmed down and walked forward, letting go of all thoughts.
All the sounds around him seemed to disappear; he could only hear his own heartbeat, and his steps became light and unsteady.
Just as all was quiet, a loud voice rang in his ears.
"Idiot, there's a huge pit over there, you can't go any further. Hey! Stop!"
Immediately afterwards, he was pulled backwards forcefully and fell to the ground.
The little girl wiped the cold sweat from her face, picked up the bamboo shoot she had just thrown aside, and said indignantly, "Didn't you hear what I said? You really scared me."
"Thank you, I'm sorry," the child said timidly.
"Okay, I forgive you. By the way, my name is Xie Wanning, what's yours?"