Chapter 440: Red Center

Chapter 440: The Red Zhong

"History? The past? The Great Qi, the Great Liang?"

Li Huowang listened in bewilderment. To hear Zhuge Yuan say such words was more shocking than if he himself were the Red Zhong. "Is that even possible? If something is already predetermined, can it really be altered just like that?"

"Why not? If the histories of the Great Qi can be falsified and usurped by the Great Liang, why couldn't your past be changed as well?"

In truth, this was exactly what Li Huowang feared. Although Zhuge Yuan had never harmed him, the knowledge he possessed might not be entirely true.

Just as Li Huowang was about to speak again, he reconsidered. If everything was real, then perhaps he wasn't actually the Red Zhong after all. Were his experiences in that world also genuine?

"But..." As these thoughts crossed his mind, his head suddenly paused. "If I truly am the Red Zhong, then that world must be false indeed. But since my past clearly wasn't that of the Red Zhong, then is the current world real or fake?"

"Brother Li? Brother Li, are you alright?" Zhuge Yuan asked with concern upon seeing Li Huowang standing motionless.

"I'm fine. Let him be. You might not know yet, but this kid often gets lost in his own world," satan's illusion beside the Forgetful Dao mocked.

But just as he spoke, Li Huowang immediately asked, "Brother Zhuge, are you telling the truth? Can one's past really be altered?"

It was simply too shocking. Even one's destined past could be changed—what kind of being could accomplish such a thing?

Zhuge Yuan nodded. "Ordinary people cannot do it, but think about it—wasn't the one beside you at that time Doumu?"

As the one who governed Yin-Yang and Heaven's Will, it made perfect sense for her to do such an extraordinary thing. Yet there was still one question Li Huowang couldn't understand. "Brother Zhuge, why would she do this?"

"She killed me herself, and I wouldn't have been surprised. But why go through so much trouble to implant a Red Zhong's past into me?"

Even the Celestial Guardian had reasons for its actions, right? Could it be that it, like the Forgetful Dao, had simply given itself a fabricated past just for fun? That didn't seem amusing at all.

This question seemed to stump Zhuge Yuan as well. After a moment of thought, he shook his head slightly. "I don't know, but no matter how you look at it, you're definitely not the Red Zhong. If you truly were, I would have known from the first glance at the Buddha Bone Temple."

Indeed, Zhuge Yuan could identify the Forgetful Dao, and he had searched through the extra memories in his mind. He didn't possess the ability to disguise himself so convincingly as to fool Zhuge Yuan.

"Brother Li," Zhuge Yuan said seriously, his expression unusually grave.

"Put aside the matter of me pretending to be a true cultivator for now. This Red Zhong past is now your top priority. I don't believe such things come without risk. Doumu must have some purpose in doing this."

"No, no, no. Since I now know that the Red Zhong's past is fake, such a harmless matter can wait." Li Huowang interrupted him, leaped back onto his horse, eyes gleaming.

"In the memory of the Red Zhong, I saw a real cultivation technique! A genuine one. No matter what I plan to do later, I must get hold of this first!"

"Oh? Did the Red Zhong really have one? Where?" Zhuge Yuan was equally surprised.

"He hid it in a very secret place. That's why I'm going to retrieve it."

The Red Zhong had deliberately placed it far away so others couldn't easily find it—a journey of hundreds of miles. In a small town on the southern bank of the River Liang, Li Huowang walked slowly along the street, leading his horse with a steamed bun in hand.

The weather was damp and cold, with a biting wind blowing. It was nighttime, yet many people gathered around white circles burning yellow paper, mostly near crossroads.

Only then did Li Huowang realize it was Qingming Festival. He had been in this world for over a year.

As he walked further, distant angry curses began to echo:

"You little scoundrel, when you grow up, you'll be a pain in the neck!

You little face, when your whole family goes mad, you'll be the one to blame!

You little eye, when you keep bumping into things, people will cut you down every day!

You little ear, when you're always covered in filth, you'll use your fingers to wipe it!

You little mouth, when you smell like stink, you'll be the one to be laughed at..."

Li Huowang looked toward the sound and saw an old woman, seemingly in her eighties, sitting on a wooden stool, striking a small yellow paper figure the size of a palm with her shoe horn.

Hearing the hoofbeats, she didn't immediately look up but continued hitting while calling out, "One strike for two hundred coins. Don't think it's expensive—I'm way more effective than others! Ask around if you don't believe me!"

Li Huowang stared at the mole on her chin with coarse hair. "How about playing mahjong instead? One for me, one for you, plus your daughter-in-law. We three play together."

The old woman froze for a moment. When she looked up at Li Huowang's appearance, her sharp face flickered with surprise before quickly breaking into a smile. "Sure! Absolutely! Come on, let's go!"

Under her enthusiastic invitation, Li Huowang sat down with her and her plump daughter-in-law at a mahjong table.

The three of them looked at the last empty seat, waiting for someone to join.

"Tap!" Li Huowang slapped a red zhong card directly in the center of the table. "Still missing one person. Why not write their name?"

"Fine!" The grandmother and daughter-in-law quickly took out brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones, hanging a large piece of Xuan paper in the air—one wrote on the front, one on the back.

The black ink soaked through the paper, sticking together. This was the hidden cultivation technique of the Red Zhong.

No matter where it was left, others could find it. So Li Huowang chose to hide it in the most secret memory of a person.

"Sitting in meditation, calming the heart, relaxing naturally, lips gently closed, breathing slow and soft, hands clenched tightly, eyes level, gathering spiritual light to the heavenly heart..."

Looking at the content, Li Huowang's hands trembled slightly. In his eyes, this thin piece of paper weighed a thousand jin. Never had he imagined that the cultivation technique he had long dreamed of would finally be within reach.

Without hesitation, Li Huowang immediately sat cross-legged, clenched his fists, and prepared to begin cultivating.

"Brother Li, wait a moment. This might also be part of Doumu's plan. If she placed this cultivation technique into your memory, perhaps she was waiting for you to cultivate it."

These words made Li Huowang suddenly stop, looking at the cultivation manual in his hands with a complex expression. "Are you saying this has risks?"

"Not necessarily, but you should think carefully. Don't forget—you're not the Red Zhong. You're Li Huowang. That past isn't yours."

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