Paragon Of Sin

Chapter 1728: The Red Dust Flows; Fourth Calamity (1)

Chapter 1728: The Red Dust Flows; Fourth Calamity (1)

Chirp~! Chirp~!

The melodious sound of birds rang beautifully through the sunny, slightly clouded morning. A crisp, refreshing wind flowed through a certain grassy plain, caressing the landscape like a gentle lover, causing the branches and leaves of trees to dance excitedly about, celebrating the end of an old dusk, and inevitably welcoming the fresh start of a beautiful dawn.

Early in this new day, sitting atop a short boulder with its top half sliced clean off, the surface unnaturally smooth like glass, was a young, bright-eyed youth in moon-white robes with dark hair, immaculate skin, and a round face, the last remnants of his baby fat-filled face fading naturally with time. At his glabella was a tiny birthmark, a tree with seven different colored branches and seven different colored roots, its leaves constructing its crown were glistening with silver, and those roots enveloped a white sphere.

Those bright eyes contained the innocence of youth, the blissful ignorance of life, and untainted by hardship or struggle. Happiness could be found within. The youth's eyes were unordinary; the left's eye pupil was shaped like a sunlit star, swirling with solar rays, while the right eye's pupil was shaped like a saber, its edge unimaginably sharp.

The youth, no more than three years old, playfully swung his legs back and forth. That unique pair of eyes were affixed to a tall, upright, and motionless figure. It was a young man, eyes closed, and breathing following the purest rhythm of one's soul. The young man exuded the steadiness akin to a great mountain, unshakeable and unrepentant of its growth or purpose. The mere sight was inspiring, needing no further explanation.

That young man was in an upright standing stance, their right hand was placed firmly on a hilt connected to a black scabbard, almost as if they were ready to draw out whatever that was within with a single thought. The wind blew from afar, causing their hair and robes to flutter gracefully.

After what could be described to some as an eternity, or to others as a single instant, the tall, steady young man removed his grip from his hilt, not drawing out whatever it contained. At that exact moment, the wind shifted, spiraling downwards toward the young man's feet, as if it was bowing reverence at being spared.

The sight was unforgettable. The timing—perfect.

"Do you understand?" The young man opened his eyes, exposing a pair of dark eyes that were suffused with the strength of ambition, wisdom far beyond his years, and gentle warmth that was alluring to spirits and mortals alike.

The youth smiled, their legs stopped swinging as they took a breath and exhaled sharply. Then, with a soft hum, nodded strongly.

The young man revealed a small smile, "Then, explain it to me. What did you witness just now?"

The youth stared at the young man intensely as if wishing to brand their very image into their unique pupils.

"Restraint begets respect; only with purpose as clear as the rays of the stars shining from above, as keenly felt as the graceful wind of the clouds, as known as the sound of your beating heart rising to your ears can you draw your saber." The voice of the youth was as clear as the star in the sky.

The young man's eyes glowed profoundly.

"Haha! Your memory is as good as always! What a smart little brother I have, huh?" He walked over, rubbing the youth's head with a hearty chuckle exposing every ounce of pride he felt.

The youth couldn't contain their smile, exposing the largest grin, "I am smart, aren't I? Hehe." The sight of the two could inspire a supreme poet for a thousand lines, and then with greater inspiration, a thousand more.

The scene froze; the wind froze; the young man froze; the rays of solar light froze. Only the youth with two unique pupils was unaffected.

The youth's eyes affixed to the facial features of the young man, an abrupt surge of irresistible wetness swelled within his two eyes. They were none other than the unshed tears of pure joy.

"How great would it be if you were real?" The youth muttered.

The words elicited an abrupt, unexpected change as the ground, grass, boulder, trees, and the sky became red as blood, slowly transforming into dust that swirled in all directions. Slowly, the dust became a red flood that drowned the two figures entirely.

The youth held tightly to the hand that was rubbing his head, the fingers of his hands trembling with unwillingness.

"I remember, brother…I'll always remember."

Unfortunately, with all of the youth's power cultivated to an extreme within an awe-inspiringly short period of time, this domain of authority was something he'd yet to grasp. The young man's body began to crumble, the smile still bright and proud, and their face fixed in a chuckle of joy and satisfaction. They crumbled away into red dust.

Sitting amidst the swirling typhoon of red dust, the youth quietly waited as the dust proceeded to restructure an entirely new world.

"The Red Dust—said to embody, contain, and follow the essence of a mortal's life. It represents all the facets of everyday life," the youth gradually grew from a three-year-old to a five-year-old child, causing their attire to change to fit their growing body, retaining that moon-white color.

He sat at a square table, set only for four, and only four sat. They included a middle-aged man with a hearty aura, eating with great relish. There was no head seat, yet the middle-aged man naturally took the spot as the leader. The young man from earlier was also there, eating just as excitedly as the middle-aged man he held a great, undeniable resemblance.

Sitting across from the youth, a smiling woman blessed with otherworldly beauty, much of her world-shocking looks were inherited by the youth, but as he grew older, his masculine features would eventually come in and create an unearthly visage that could mesmerize divinities and devils alike.

"Eat," she mouthed with a smile, gesturing with her chopsticks before indulging. Her manner of eating wasn't anything less as vivacious as the others.

Witnessing this, the youth nodded with an assenting hum. The family of four ate a meal set for a family of twelve, and they did so with ease.

The youth's fingers trembled slightly as the melodious voice of the woman kept resounding in his heart. A single word yet it felt as refreshing as a cool glass of water after trekking a hot, steamy dessert for a hundred years.

The youth remembered this day.

It was that day.

After they finished eating, patting his large belly, the middle-aged man exclaimed triumphantly as if defeating an army of a thousand. The young man followed suit, just a few seconds behind finishing, having lost the invisible battle between the younger and older generations. But those eyes of his remained staunch and resolved to win the next time.

The beautiful woman chuckled as she neatly organized her utensils. A habit of etiquette that never faded, no matter how much her memory had in recent years.

The youth did the same, instinctively but willingly.

"I have some news," the middle-aged man took a deep breath and said, causing the cheerful atmosphere to grow unknowingly tense. The smile of the beautiful woman faded little by little.

"What is it, Father?" The young man asked, as if ready to tackle any issue with a saber in hand, and if it didn't require a saber, his words were elegant enough to remedy many situations. The tongue was just a fleshy saber in his mind.

"I've decided that—" the middle-aged man began.

The youth's gaze remained fixed on the beautiful woman. Today was the day that he dreaded the most. While there were no horrific events within, no deaths or pain, this single moment, just before those words were spoken, was a recurring nightmare that would also wake him. It was more painful than losing his home.

The day the decision was made that would make him lose half his family.

"LORD WEI! LORD WEI!" A set of hurried, urgent footsteps rushed could be heard from outside. The youth's eyes shone with an unexpected light of surprise.

A man who was rather slender, dressed in clothes typically of a servant, opened the door with unnatural strength, intruding on the family's mealtime, yet the middle-aged man didn't rebuke him for his rudeness.

"What is it?"

"Lord Wei!" The man cried as he tried to catch his breath with some heavy inhales and exhales, sweat dropped down from their foreheads, and their fingers gripping the door were trembling. Trembling excitedly!

"The Great Sage of Medicine from the Capital, Sage Xiaotian, has arrived!"

"Sage Xiaotian?!" The middle-aged man rose in disbelief, shock, and happiness rising by the second on his expression. He looked at the beautiful woman with a smile, "She came!"

The beautiful woman was similarly wide-eyed, surprised by this development. The capital actually sent their greatest Medicinal Sage? The same capital that had Mortal Gods that could defy natural and upend creation? It was said that Sage Xiaotian was heaven's miracle, capable of saving or solving all alignments with her divine abilities and knowledge.

The young man's eyes brightened.

"Father!" He shouted as if to remind the middle-aged man of his duties. This was critical. They couldn't show any sign of disrespect!

The middle-aged man broke out of his stupor, and hope flooded his very being as he hurriedly wiped his face. The beautiful woman assisted him in a natural manner, straightening out his collar with remarkable speed and practice, and then smiled. It was a smile that calmed every tense and nervous emotion within the middle-aged man's body, fueling him with energy and confidence.

"Let's go!" The middle-aged man exclaimed.

The beautiful woman nodded, giving the youth and young man a smile that contained a reminder to be on their best behavior.

The youth with two strange pupils nodded, rising from his seat and looking at the sweating servant. The family of four hurriedly left to greet this Sage Xiaotian, all with the hopes of solving their family's greatest crisis.

"What a sinister, cruel design," the youth muttered, remembering a single line given to him by that woman of great determination and greater willpower:

"The red dust flows into the direction most wanted."