Amid the baby’s growling and roaring, the great clumsy bear cautiously leaned in, its long bear snout nuzzling gently against the baby’s little face, trying to soothe him.
But to its surprise, the baby grabbed hold of its snout with one hand and kept roaring nonstop.
As he roared on and on, his bright, clear eyes suddenly welled up with tears, startling the great bear so badly it whipped its head around to look at Ziqing.
He was actually crying!
What now?
Ziqing rolled her eyes repeatedly. Though she couldn’t understand a word of the baby’s roaring, in whatever language it was, no one understood a child like their own mother, and she sauntered over lazily.
Seeing Ziqing approach, the great bear finally let out a huge sigh of relief—but to its surprise, Ziqing didn’t pick the baby up at all. Instead, she flipped him back over, letting him land face-down on the ground once more!
The great bear’s eyes went wide, staring at Ziqing in complete disbelief—was this really how a mother was supposed to act?
But then, a miracle happened.
The roaring, the crying, stopped instantly. The baby’s whole body and limbs went limp against the ground, but his little head lifted, and he flashed a grin at his mother, looking thoroughly, blissfully satisfied!
Ziqing was truly defeated by this baby. She pointed toward the still-stunned bear, gesturing for it to lie back down.
Only now did the great bear finally understand, foolishly delighted as it flopped back into position, all four limbs to the ground just as before.
The instant the bear settled, the baby’s eyes narrowed slowly, locking onto his target. Then he began again—left hand forward, left foot forward, right hand forward, right foot forward—same-hand-same-foot, crawling straight toward the bear. This time, there was nothing slow or leisurely about it; he surged forward like a madman, charging with wild abandon.
Ziqing watched helplessly, and only one word came to mind: “rowing”!
At last, the baby reached the bear’s side, panting for breath, and suddenly grabbed a fistful of fur from its belly!
Ziqing immediately turned her head away—she knew what horrific thing was about to happen…
If the baby lacked anything else, he certainly didn’t lack grip strength in his little wrists—and with that yank, the great bear’s honest, simple features instantly twisted into a knot!
It hurt!
Was there anything more painful than having the short fur on your belly yanked?
Painful as it was, the great bear didn’t retaliate, still lying obediently in place.
The baby, having grabbed a fistful of fur, pulled with all his might, straining with every ounce of effort he had, using the leverage to haul himself up onto the bear’s back, tiny hands tugging desperately, chubby little legs kicking away, forcibly dragging himself from the bear’s belly up onto its broad back. The entire process could be summed up in exactly one word: torment!
Ziqing couldn’t bear to watch, but the bear, despite the pain, just grinned foolishly, allowing the baby to scrabble and claw all over it however he pleased, occasionally even baring its gleaming white fangs mid-wince, grinning happily through the pain.
Finally, the baby had climbed entirely onto the bear’s back. He looked over at Ziqing with a proudly aloof expression, as if to say: I’m a real man—even if I fall down, I get back up myself, climbing bear-peak one step at a time!
So proud, so triumphant—yet meanwhile, the great swaths of white fur on the bear looked like a tangled weed patch, mussed up worse than a startled hedgehog!
The baby was so small that, perched on that broad back, he didn’t even need to grip or hold on to stay in place.
Once the baby was settled, the bear immediately made to stand, but the baby’s chubby little hand gave the bear’s ear three slow, languid strokes.
The gesture, the manner of it, was truly refined and dignified, composed and unhurried—hardly the air of a baby at all, more like some transcendent sage who’d seen through the mortal world, as though with that single gentle stroke, he could smooth away every love, hate, and passion of the human realm.
Ziqing watched, utterly stunned, unable to reconcile the baby who’d just been roaring and fussing with the one before her now!
Yet this time, the great bear seemed to understand exactly what the baby meant, and obediently lay back down.
Satisfied, the baby grinned, and his little hand actually began smoothing down the bear’s fur, patting all the mussed-up patches on its back neatly into place, then gave its ear three more gentle pats!
Receiving the signal, the great bear stood at once—the little master of the Poison Beast World had woken from his nap, and it was time for his daily inspection of the grounds!
The mountain-lord’s inspection tour, ever since the baby had first managed to sit steadily on the bear’s back, had become an unshakeable daily ritual, without fail.
These days, following Ziqing and the child around, eating and sleeping constantly, the great bear had grown round and plump as a ball, its thighs and rear jiggling comically with every step it took—already amusing enough on its own, but combined with the baby perched on its broad back like some meditating old monk, the whole scene left Ziqing laughing every single time, at a loss for words.
She desperately wanted to know—did that little bear-cub of a child even understand what “the mountain lord’s inspection” meant?
The bear and baby quickly bounded out of the cave. Ziqing shook her head helplessly, setting aside all her worries and troubles for the moment, laughing uncontrollably as she chased after them.
The Poison Beast World had grown livelier ever since the little troublemaker’s arrival.
Meanwhile, on the Longyuan continent, beneath the surface calm, crises had long since been quietly brewing on every side.
After Xuanyuan Lige fell unconscious, following discussion among Situ Haonan and the others, Second Young Master Beast reported the full situation at Mingsha Mountain honestly to the King of Nanzhao.
The King of Nanzhao was thoroughly alarmed, convening an emergency secret council that very night. Three days and nights later, the King of Nanzhao secretly slipped out of the palace, traveling to the island furthest from Nanzhao’s mainland—Dream Realm Isle.
Dream Realm Isle was where the Meng (Dream) Clan made their home. Among the secrets passed down through generations of the Nanzhao royal family, it was known that beneath Mingsha Mountain, at the bottom of a three-thousand-fathom pool, lay the final seal of the Poison Beast World—its final entrance.
This secret could not possibly have been mistaken. The King of Nanzhao had turned the matter over in his mind repeatedly, and could think of nothing but to seek answers from the Meng Clan.
This meeting with the Meng Clan chieftain was kept entirely private—after all, aside from the Meng Clan’s own upper echelons, very few people knew of this matter at all.
In a sealed chamber, the King of Nanzhao and the Meng Clan chieftain sat facing each other, only two cups of tea resting on the stone table between them.
The Meng Clan chieftain, with his silver-white beard and coarse hemp robes, carried an air far from shabby—instead radiating a steady, reassuring gravity. He listened with brows slightly furrowed as the King of Nanzhao recounted everything about Mingsha Mountain, from the tornado all the way to the three-thousand-fathom excavation.
At first, the Meng Clan chieftain gave little reaction beyond his furrowed brow, indicating he was listening attentively. But as the account went on, even this normally unflappable man couldn’t help but show a flash of genuine shock, interrupting the King of Nanzhao repeatedly to press for details.
“That’s roughly the situation, Elder Meng. That great tornado didn’t blow away the sand layer over the secret chamber, yet the chamber and the deep pool have both been utterly destroyed. Could it be the barrier itself…”
The King of Nanzhao asked tentatively—if three thousand fathoms of digging had failed to find the entrance, it could only mean something had gone wrong with the barrier.
By now, the Meng Clan chieftain’s face had grown deeply troubled. After a moment’s hesitation, he rose and approached the King of Nanzhao respectfully. Though the Meng Clan wasn’t like Nanzhao’s many tribes who swore fealty to the royal house, this small island still fell under the Kingdom of Nanzhao’s dominion, and the chieftain still held the King in genuine respect.
No one could hear what the Meng Clan chieftain murmured quietly into the King of Nanzhao’s ear, but the King’s face immediately filled with shock, and he cried out, “A dead barrier?”