Volume 1, Chapter 3: Birth

All around was chaos, with a warm, viscous liquid enveloping his body.

His mind was a bit fuzzy, but Xiahou remembered clearly that his body had been shattered by the force from the giant cauldron.

Yet now, he could still sense his whole body intact. Moving his legs, moving his arms, everything was intact. Though weak and limited in movement, and unable to see clearly what was before him, his body's existence was undeniable. Xiahou pondered with some confusion, "Could it be that someone in the bureau has mastered the art of soul-summoning, drawing my spirit into a new body? But it's absurd; when a person dies, their spirit is extinguished; how could any essence remain?"

After an uncertain amount of time, the environment suddenly shook violently, and the warm, viscous liquid began draining rapidly. A tremendous force pushed his body towards a place of intense suction. It was a painful experience, akin to being squeezed and pressed in a leather pouch. There was also a great force pulling his head in a certain direction, and after a while, his body suddenly felt a bone-chilling coldness.

Naked and exposed, the icy coldness cut into his skin like a knife, causing Xiahou to cry out in pain. Yet he distinctly heard his own voice, sounding like the squeak of a baby. In panic, he forcefully opened his eyes and saw droplets of viscous blood before him. His first impression was that he was in a spacious room constructed of large stones, illuminated by flickering dim lights. Outside, there was the howling of the wind.

Two fingers lifted Xiahou's legs, and a coarse voice erupted in tremendous laughter. The man laughed heartily, shaking all over, and carefully cradled Xiahou in his rough palm, presenting him to a group of onlookers. Thus, more coarse laughter resounded, and rough fingers, like sandpaper, curiously stroked Xiahou's cheeks. Some even pat his buttocks lightly, seemingly affectionate.

Xiahou screamed in pain, and as he saw a dirty, pitch-black, rough hand reaching toward his face again, he summoned a bit of strength from within and kicked fiercely at the hand. His foot collided with the hand, and Xiahou froze in place: his legs were soft and fair, with traces of blood and dirt, not even as thick as one finger of the hand that touched him. What on earth was happening?

"Oh, Lord, have you sent me to be reborn as a baby?" Xiahou screamed inwardly!

May the Jade Emperor bless me, may the Buddha bless me, may God bless me, may Allah bless me, and all the gods of heaven and earth bless me. Please, do not let me be reborn in those foreign countries outside of China. If I were to be reborn in China, as difficult as it is to understand this reincarnation, Xiahou would accept it. He even began to calculate rapidly: once he had the ability to speak around the age of two, he should be able to make a phone call to Yangtou and have someone come pick him up, right? As for what happens next, that's for the future!

The owner of the large hand, having been kicked by Xiahou, burst into thunderous laughter, and those nearby laughed even harder, seemingly overjoyed by Xiahou's vitality.

Struggling to open his eyes still blurred with amniotic fluid, Xiahou glanced around with his wide eyes, and his heart sank instantly.

The house, built of rough black stones, was extremely simple in style, approximately ten meters long and wide, with thatched roofs and some wooden boards above. Such houses might still exist only in the remotest mountainous areas of China. But that was not the main concern; as long as there was communication with the outside world, he could quickly return to the organization. Surely those mysterious elders in the bureau would have a way to address his current situation.

However, the hundreds of layers of stacked animal skins hanging on the walls sent a shiver down Xiahou's spine. Tiger, bear, leopard skins – these animal skins were more than twice as large as any he had seen before. Where in China could so many wild animals still exist? Moreover, among those skins were countless strange species he didn't recognize, and judging from the fur area, these creatures were the size of Asian elephants. What on earth were they?

And standing beside him were men, grinning with infinite joy! Good Lord, had he arrived in a barbarian tribe?

Judging from his experience in his previous life, the height of these men, all over two meters tall, and their dark or bluish-green skin, solid muscles like iron blocks, thick but disheveled long hair, messy stubble, and only a piece of animal skin haphazardly wrapped around their waists, they didn't seem like civilized modern people.

Thankfully, their hair was still black, and their eyeballs were also black, which brought Xiahou a little comfort and familiarity. But everything he saw now had prepared him for the unpredictable and elusive fate he was about to face.

With his eyes widened, he watched as a skinny, black-skinned old man, two or three heads shorter than the nearby giants, tottered over with a beast bone in hand. The old man had a smile on his face as he casually used his hand to play with Xiahou's little **, pulling it a few times with great joy. Grinning with only three or five teeth, the old man's big mouth widened, and the group of men burst into hearty laughter once again. The tall, bearded man who held Xiahou in his hand particularly vigorously slapped Xiahou's buttocks a few times.

"If I'm not mistaken, the man holding me is my father in this life? And the one lying on the stone bed being taken care of by several women is my mother?" Xiahou widened his eyes, glaring fiercely at his father and mother, deeply engraving their appearances in his mind, so as not to mistake them for someone else in the future. While he was in infancy, the protection of his parents was his only hope of survival, and he had to butter them up properly.

During his training at the Special Operations Bureau, the instructor's admonition echoed in Xiahou's mind: "No matter where you are, no matter what happens, as long as you have a breath, find a way back! Remember, the motherland is your home. No matter what danger, what hardship you encounter, survive and come back!"

"Survive, go back! Maybe I can't be with Xiaohua, but I promised her to come back and eat the dog meat she stewed."

The newborn Xiahou showed a strange smile on his face. This smile frightened the men around him into sudden silence, then immediately erupted into even more hearty laughter.

The emaciated old man nodded repeatedly, a hazy green light flickering in his eyes as he scanned Xiahou from head to toe, chuckling a few times before shouting loudly. His voice, dry and hoarse as it was, was accompanied by a language Xiahou had never heard before. It seemed to be some dialect from within China, but despite Xiahou's proficiency in over thirty languages and hundreds of dialects, he couldn't understand a single word.

Once again, a chill ran down his spine. Perhaps, he had encountered some strange and inexplicable phenomena. Xiahou looked at the circle of green light in the old man's eyes, feeling a slow coldness creeping into his heart. He was also a superhuman, but he had never heard of superhumans being able to emit green light from their eyes without any energy fluctuations in their bodies.

"Ao," a deep and loud roar of a fierce beast sounded, and Xiahou quickly turned his head to see two muscular men with bluish-green skin tightly gripping a tiger as they walked over. The tiger's body was over four meters long, entirely yellow, with ferocious and brutal light gleaming in its eyes as it struggled desperately. But the two men carried it as if it were nothing, one holding onto its hind legs and the other clutching its neck, effortlessly carrying it over.

The furious tiger let out a roar, its two teeth, each measuring over a foot long, bared. Xiahou exclaimed, "Sabertooth Tiger!" But now, he couldn't speak, only emitting a few weak whimpers from his throat.

A large black clay pot, about a meter high with a diameter of about one and a half meters, looked like a large pottery jar. Three large stones supported it underneath as several burly boys carried bundles of firewood over, setting a big fire underneath the pot.

A man panting slightly carried another large pot full of clear water, pouring half of it into the big clay pot. He looked red-faced, seemingly exhausted. Xiahou estimated the volume of the clay pot to be around two cubic meters, enough to hold two tons of water. And yet, this man, despite being a bit out of breath, was carrying it alone. What kind of creatures were they? Were they really human? Two tons of weight, even the most elite special forces would probably need six or seven people to lift it together.

The fire made the water in the big pot steam, and the withered old man felt the water's temperature with his hand, nodding in approval. He then pulled out a huge black cloth bag from somewhere, casually tossing in various strange herbs, peculiar insect carcasses, and so on. The previously clear hot water immediately bubbled with colorful bubbles, occasionally churning with the corpses of scorpions, centipedes, and spiders.

Xiahou instinctively felt that something was wrong. Were they planning to bathe a newborn baby like him with this kind of stuff? Good Lord, what kind of uncivilized people were they? It was bad enough that a newborn baby wasn't properly wrapped in cotton cloth in the cold outside, but now they wanted to wash him with obviously poisonous hot water. Were they planning to concoct biological weapons?

And then, something even more chilling happened.

The saber-toothed tiger was brought over by the two burly men. The emaciated old man glanced at the ferocious beast, which was struggling madly and emitting steam from its entire body. Satisfied, he nodded and pointed his bone cane at the tiger, muttering a vague monosyllabic word. The tiger immediately stiffened, its body suspended in mid-air.

A psychic, and a very powerful one at that! Xiahou watched the old man's actions intently, but couldn't help but wonder why there was no trace of true energy fluctuation on the old man's body. Could it be because he had just been born, so even his perception abilities were weakened?

With a pitch-black stone knife in hand, the old man cleanly severed the tiger's head, letting its blood gush into the large pot. The originally colorful poisonous soup now had an added terrifying crimson, illuminated by the flickering yellowish lights around, giving off a eerie atmosphere.

The old man grabbed the tiger's head, the green light in his eyes intensifying. Strange incantations poured from his mouth, and even after the beast's head was severed, it emitted a violent roar. A blurry shadow, resembling the form of the tiger, shot out from the severed head and plunged into the boiling pot. As this spectral image entered, the pot immediately began to boil violently, even emitting faint explosions. In just a few blinks of an eye, it returned to calmness.

The pot of greenish soup emitted a faint steam, as if living creatures were writhing and entwining in the air.

The old man grabbed Xiahou from his father's hands and threw him into the boiling soup with a splash.

Pain surged from all directions, and Xiahou struggled and screamed, trying to dance out of the soup, but where did he find the strength? "Could this old man want to eat baby stew? It doesn't make sense. He added so many poisonous insects, unless he wants to poison himself to death?"

Accidentally, Xiahou swallowed a few mouthfuls of the greenish soup, and immediately felt a rush of heat rising from his stomach. Streams of heat spread along his meridians, and Xiahou keenly felt that his infant body had been strengthened to a certain extent. Moreover, a mysterious power from the soup slowly permeated his body, giving him a great courage to fight.

The old man's bone cane swung again, emitting visible green ripples, and the tip of the cane moved directly over the big pot. The obscure and incomprehensible incantations seemed like a lullaby, causing Xiahou to feel drowsy. Gradually, the pot of greenish soup cleared, and eventually, all the strange powers mixed into it were absorbed by Xiahou.

Xiahou's father laughed heartily, reached into the still boiling pot, grabbed Xiahou, who was as red as a cooked pig and still steaming, and slapped him hard on the buttocks. The friction between the tender skin and calluses on his palms caused intense pain, waking the half-dazed Xiahou up again.

Brutes, they were all brutes, this tribe must be a tribe of brutes. Although Xiahou had no experience in taking care of babies, his wife Xiao Hua in his previous life was a professional nurse, so he knew some basic knowledge. Xiahou had never heard of a newborn baby being played with by more than thirty burly men, patted and squeezed for half an hour, and then boiled in a pot of boiling soup without being scalded to death, and then beaten by his own father.

Were they nurturing babies or mistreating pets?

The emaciated old man grinned and leaned in again. Xiahou happened to have a mouthful of green soup, so he mustered up his last bit of lung capacity and sprayed the water fiercely onto the old man's face. Then, his bladder swelled for a moment, and a stream of clear urine sprayed towards the old man.

The big men burst into laughter simultaneously, the young boys working also chuckled foolishly, and even the women attending to the pregnant women smiled. Only the old man, resembling a wizard, looked embarrassed, hastily grabbing a piece of cloth and vigorously wiping his face.

The big man holding Xiahou finally wrapped him tightly in a warm animal skin, then, along with a few companions, lifted the stone bed and carried the pregnant woman, humming some strange tunes, and strode out of the stone house towards several wooden houses not far away.

The last impression Xiahou had on the first day after his birth was of hundreds of people gathered around the campfire, gnawing on roasted meat, dancing, and laughing loudly. Pitchers of inferior old wine were gulped down like spring water, and even Xiahou was forced by his father to gulp down half a bowl in one go. The wine, like a knife cutting through his stomach, churned in Xiahou's belly, and he spat out a few mouthfuls of breast milk, rolling his eyes and fainting.

"This couldn't be China. I've never heard of any village in China mistreating babies like this," was Xiahou's last thought.