As the woman carried Yuan Xia, he noticed a peculiar scent emanating from her nape. Like flowers, the light fragrance swayed, overtaking the fetid stench on his own body. An image of a lily bouquet appeared in Yuan Xia’s mind, soothing a majority of his distress.

Along the way, the woman patted his back in smooth, soft intervals, like a mother comforting her child. Yuan Xia’s guard relaxed, and he soon found himself clinging to the woman’s pink robes. By the time they arrived at a house at the end of the village, Yuan Xia had become a koala on a eucalyptus tree, immersed in the floral perfume and delicate clothing embracing him.

“I’m so glad I found you.” The woman spoke. “I don’t know what I’d do if you disappeared.”

Yuan Xia noticed her voice for the first time. She spoke with silky precision, each syllable distinct from the next, yet her words connected with each other with a graceful flow.

As she carried Yuan Xia into her small home, he glanced about, noticing the faint holes in the brick-coloured ceiling. The walls, albeit standing, had debris falling with every step the woman took. At the centre of the house, a puny, round table sat like a toad, with rusted pillows and a blanket tossed to the side.

Yuan Xia turned back to the woman, resisting a frown, not believing that such a refined person could live there. But then again, she’d picked up the sopping Yuan Xia without any hesitation and hugged him all the way.

In routine, the woman set Yuan Xia on a pillow and disappeared behind a tattered wall. He looked down and met pure earth.

While he curled into a ball and hugged his knees to his chest, the woman came out from the kitchen with two bowls of porridge. She set one down before Yuan Xia and swept her pink robes to the side, sitting across the stubby table.

Subconsciously, Yuan Xia tried to observe her facial features. From the blotches of colour he could make out, the woman appeared to have round pink eyes and tan skin. Her brown hair fell over her shoulders. She looked and sounded quite young.

But how did this woman have such a deep connection with Yuan Xia? Just from examining his own body, Yuan Xia believed himself around 12 or 13 years of age, but the woman acted no older than 25. This disparity made Yuan Xia tentative to pick up the porridge bowl.

He turned his face away, suspicious.

“Yuan Xia.” The woman took a spoon, stirring the porridge and scooping a serving. She held it out to the boy, then used her other hand to direct his head towards hers. “I know you can understand me. You need to eat more, or you won’t grow tall.”

She plunged the spoon straight into Yuan Xia’s open mouth, giving him no time to react. Coughing, he panicked for a second, then came to his senses at the taste of green onions.

The porridge didn’t taste half-bad, and in Yuan Xia’s famished state, he ended up drinking the entire bowl.

He hadn’t felt so hungry since his last life.

The world appeared much fresher once he finished the light and lingering porridge. With newfound conviction, Yuan Xia prepared to see the world through critical eyes. Well, not with his eyes, per se….

“Were you watching the festival?” The woman asked Yuan Xia, not expecting an answer but still believing. Her blurry hand grasped the edge of the porcelain bowl, and the spoon inside clinked. “Do you want to go back?”

Yuan Xia nodded.

The woman had just picked up the spoon when it clattered to the ground. She stood up, her steps uneven as she tottered back, and although Yuan Xia couldn’t see her expression, he could sense her fear. The two stared at each other, one terrified, one curious.

Yuan Xia heard sharp, regulated breaths, and the woman  calmed herself before returning to the table.

“Yuan Xia?” Her voice lowered to a whisper.

The boy nodded in place, acknowledging her call.

“Do you know who I am…?” The woman tried again. A quiver offset her otherwise hushed tone.

This time, Yuan Xia shook his head.

A sigh of relief. The woman regained her spirit, brushing the dirt from her pleated skirt as her pink eyes inspected the stranger before her. After a minute, she smiled.

“Then think of me as your mother.”

—

After what had happened the first time, Yuan Xia didn’t expect to return to the festive marketplace. He held his ‘mother’s’ hand as she navigated through the crowd, turning back every couple of minutes to check his condition.

A mother…. He never had one in his past life. Even recalling the closest example he could think of, the Demon Queen, felt off no matter how hard he tried. Did mothers keep their children locked up in a dark room? Yuan Xia wouldn’t know, but he doubted it.

Even after night fell, the streets still bustled with merry.  Somehow, Yuan Xia felt that the number of hawkers and their stalls had doubled.

Or perhaps, his eyes had met their limit, making him see double.

“Right, Yuan Xia, did you want to try a candied hawthorn?” His ‘mother’ pointed at a stall, and Yuan Xia followed her finger with his head. “I found you near that stall.”

Yuan Xia had intended to shake his head ‘no’, but he realized he didn’t even know what a candied hawthorn looked like. But he’d seen a regular hawthorn. Did this sweet-sounding one drip with colours? Did the sugar cover the fruit’s natural bitterness? With these questions spinning through his mind, his body stepped forwards of its own violation.

He heard a stifled laugh and turned his head to his ‘mother’ with a frown on his lips. The sound disappeared in an instant, but Yuan Xia had caught it loud and clear. She must have realized her mistake, as she forced a loud cough right after.

“Sister Deng! You’re back!” The hawker from before yelled at the two, beckoning them over. “I didn’t recognize you earlier from the shock, but QiuShi, is that ragged thing your child?”

She threw indirect insults at Yuan Xia—who didn’t mind much, but his ‘mother’, Deng QiuShi, did.

“Don’t call him a ‘ragged thing’, Yuan Xia is my son.” Her voice grew forceful, and Yuan Xia heard her clench her sleeves with her fists.

“Ai, you can be really mean sometimes. You named your own son Yuan Xia? Like the Demon Lord that died 120 years ago? Pah, even saying his name feels ominous.” With a hearty laugh, the hawker handed Deng QiuShi a candied hawthorn.

But Yuan Xia didn’t see this exchange.

The number 120 echoed in his head, taking over his senses. He stood stunned, processing.

The battle at Snow Valley occurred 120 years ago?

His journey through the river below, through the strange tunnel of electricity, had taken but a moment.

Recollections of the lightning brought a face to his mind.

One-hundred and twenty years… that crybaby Righteous Leader could never last so long. Was he dead?! Yuan Xia thought he’d better visit Hua ChunMing’s grave at least once—otherwise, he’d feel too guilty for arriving so late.

“Yuan Xia!” A firm hand landed on the spaced-out boy’s shoulder, bringing him back. Deng QiuShi stuffed a stick with red fruits in Yuan Xia’s hands. “Quickly thank this sister.”

He’d take some time to sort out his thoughts later. For now, he had to understand the new world before him. After a small bow, Yuan Xia let Deng QiuShi take his hand and drag him away.

But the teal-robed hawker had other plans in mind.

A thin box clattered onto wood, drawing Yuan Xia’s attention. He watched as the turquoise figure leaned against her stall, craning her head out to call to them. Over the chattering crowds, she stood out like a sore thumb.

“Deng QiuShi! I haven’t seen you in so long; take some of Thousand Festival Village’s special lokums before you go!”

Her words, although innocent, froze the air around Yuan Xia, throwing him into a quagmire of slowed time. He shivered.

Thousand Festival Village?

The scenery enveloped by flames returned, expanding before Yuan Xia, trapping him. Black fire ripped out, engulfing everything in his path. His hometown became wreckages of wood and stone in a matter of seconds.

It had also been called the Thousand Festival Village.

In Yuan Xia’s memory, long before he’d become the Demon Lord or even an adult, he snuck out of his house, wanting to play with his only friend. Ignoring the scorn he’d face from his parents when he returned, he ran to the park nearby, falling onto the grass as he locked eyes with the younger boy whose name he’d long forgotten. At the time, they had been talking about the clouds and imagining their futures when Yuan Xia heard the first scream.

In the end, he didn’t make it back in time to say goodbye to his family.

With visions of ash confining him to his spot, Yuan Xia raised his hands to his ears. How could he be in the Thousand Festival Village? It was already gone.

A voice—Deng QiuShi’s—whispered his name, but it could do nothing to stop his trembling.

He wavered for a second, and finally, his body gave out.

Then, as if time had slowed, he closed his eyes and fell to the ground.