Chapter 198: Return to Shi Village

At this moment, Little Rascal’s heart was a mix of nervousness, excitement, and even a hint of trepidation—the closer he got to home, the more his emotions swirled. He wondered how Stone Village had fared in his absence. He had left with Bei Feng when he was just eight and a half years old, spending nearly eight to nine months on the road, enduring trials and adventures before joining the Heaven Mending Pavilion. Time had flown, and now, two years had passed since his departure.

Everything felt as if it had happened just yesterday—the memories of raiding bird nests with Er Meng and Pi Hou, being chased by the Azure-Scaled Eagle, hunting together, gathering ancient herbs, and capturing young beasts. Those days were filled with endless laughter and joy. Bei Feng, too, was moved to tears, laughing and crying at the same time. Though he had only lived in the village for a year or two, it held a lifetime of happiness for him.

“Just a mountain village, why so emotional? When I return to my old nest, I always find it dull,” the Crimson Bird muttered.

*Thud!*

At that moment, both Little Rascal and Bei Feng simultaneously smacked its head. The Bald Vulture, emboldened by their lead, also took a swing. The Crimson Bird grumbled indignantly before spreading its wings and soaring into the sky, speeding forward as the scenery below blurred past. Soon, they arrived before a serene and beautiful land.

Still far away, Little Rascal signaled for it to descend, insisting on walking the rest of the way step by step. Hazy in the distance, the outline of a village gradually came into view.

“There was a fierce battle here—look at that boulder, shattered to pieces!” the Crimson Bird remarked.

“They used a treasure artifact, and a terrifyingly powerful one at that. This was originally a stone mountain, yet half of it was obliterated!” The Bald Vulture was equally shocked.

Little Rascal’s heart sank, his fists clenching in dread. What had happened to Stone Village in the two years he’d been gone? Bei Feng was on the verge of tears, praying silently that nothing terrible had befallen their home. They had returned with excitement, yet now they feared witnessing something ominous.

Ahead, silence reigned.

Though still miles away from Stone Village, the signs of battle were unmistakable—someone had wielded a terrifying treasure artifact, surpassing even his Dragon-Shears. Several stone mountains had been reduced to dust, completely obliterated.

“Everything must be fine. They must all be safe!” Little Rascal whispered, sprinting forward, his heart pounding with fear and tension. Bei Feng followed close behind, tears welling in his eyes.

The Golden Furred Beast, familiar with the terrain, transformed into a streak of golden light, darting through the grass toward the village.

After running several miles, Little Rascal suddenly halted, unable to hold back his tears. Moments later, Bei Feng and the others caught up, standing beside him as they gazed at the village in the distance.

“Stone Village is unharmed!” Little Rascal wiped away his tears. Despite all the life-and-death battles and endless escapes he’d endured, he had never felt fear like this—until now. Only when he stood before the village did his worries finally dissolve, replaced by overwhelming joy.

The village was as he remembered—familiar figures moved about, the houses unchanged. Before the village stood an ancient tree, its thick trunk charred by lightning, yet now sprouting vibrant green branches that shimmered with a soft, divine light, like chains of order from the dawn of creation.

With the Willow God present, Stone Village would always be safe. His earlier fears had merely been the lingering trauma of their hardships.

Finally home, Little Rascal and Bei Feng laughed with happiness, though tears glistened in their eyes. After enduring calamity, returning to their loved ones filled them with indescribable relief.

At that moment, the Bald Vulture’s eyes widened in terror as it stared at the willow tree by the village entrance, its legs trembling uncontrollably.

“Second Brother, why are you shaking? You’re embarrassing me,” the Crimson Bird scoffed, slapping it.

“Don’t speak carelessly! There’s something immense ahead—something that towers into the heavens, vast beyond measure! I’m terrified!” the Bald Vulture stammered, nearly collapsing in fear.

“What nonsense are you spouting?” the Crimson Bird frowned.

“That tree—do you see it? It’s sacred!” the Bald Vulture quivered, unable to believe its eyes.

It grabbed Little Rascal, shaking. “Kid… what’s going on? You never told me about this! What *is* it? I’m scared out of my wits!”

The Bald Vulture was no ordinary creature—it had once been formidable, with senses sharp enough to detect the unfathomable. Though it couldn’t gauge the willow’s depth, it *felt* its power—enough to shatter the heavens, making its very soul tremble.

Now, even the Crimson Bird sensed something amiss. The ancient tree radiated serenity, yet it inspired such reverence that the bird dared not act recklessly.

“What *is* its origin?”

“It’s our village’s guardian spirit, protecting Stone Village’s peace. We honor and revere it,” Little Rascal explained.

“*What?* A village guardian?!” The Bald Vulture’s eyes nearly popped out of its skull.

What kind of village warranted such a divine protector? This was beyond comprehension!

The Bald Vulture stared at Little Rascal, then at the village, realizing with dawning clarity: “No wonder a monster like you came from here—chasing after Zhujian and Flood Dragons like they were prey!”

“Stop talking nonsense,” Little Rascal chuckled, amused by its terror.

Just then, a bird’s cry echoed from the village as a six-to-seven-meter-long purple raptor streaked toward them.

“Little Brother, you’ve returned!” the purple avian transmitted mentally, its scales gleaming like mist, radiant and mystical.

Soon, a golden-feathered bird and a cyan one followed, their auras sacred and joyous as they flocked to Little Rascal and Bei Feng.

“Zi Yun, Da Peng, Xiao Qing… you’ve grown so fast! You can already transmit thoughts, and you’re still so young!” Little Rascal marveled.

“Wait—your bloodlines are stronger than even ancient descendants!” he exclaimed after closer inspection.

Bei Feng’s eyes widened. “It’s true—they’ve become even more powerful!”

“Mother told us to sleep by the Willow God’s roots and worship it daily. Over two years, our bloodlines grew purer,” Zi Yun explained.

“The Azure-Scaled Eagle is truly wise!” Little Rascal praised before asking where she was.

“Mother has grown stronger too, always resting at the Willow God’s base. But recently, she ventured deep into the wilderness to train,” Xiao Qing said.

“My gods, I must worship this being too!” The Crimson Bird scampered toward the village entrance.

The Bald Vulture, meanwhile, looked as if it had seen a ghost, its legs nearly giving out.

“Little Rascal! Bei Feng!”

Villagers spotted them, and within moments, a crowd surged forward.

“It’s not a dream—Little Rascal’s back! And Bei Feng too!” someone bellowed, his voice carrying across the village.

In a flash, Da Zhuang, Er Meng, Pi Hou, and the other youths vaulted over walls and roofs, rushing out of Stone Village. Behind them came Shi Linhu, Shi Feijiao, and the other grown men, followed by elders, women, and children—all overjoyed.

“We’re home!” Little Rascal and Bei Feng shouted, sprinting the last hundred meters in an instant.

“You brat, gone for two whole years! We missed you so much!” His childhood friends piled onto them in a heap.

“You have no idea how worried we were! We thought something happened to you in the wilderness!” More bodies stacked atop them until they were nearly buried.

Tears of joy streamed down their faces. Having grown up together in the harsh wilds, their bond was unbreakable.

“You’re crushing us! Get off!” Little Rascal protested.

“Liar! You used to carry ten-thousand-pound rocks up mountains as a toddler. A few dozen of us won’t hurt you!” they laughed, pressing down a while longer before finally relenting.

Once free, Pi Hou and Er Meng threw their arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“You little rascals, vanishing for two years without a word! We thought you’d never return!” Shi Linhu and the other men pushed through, their eyes wet as they punched the boys’ chests affectionately.

The wilderness was deadly—two years without word usually meant death by beast.

“You’ve grown taller, still slender but much stronger now,” Shi Feijiao said, patting their shoulders with teary eyes.

“Uncle Hu, Uncle Jiao, we learned many skills and missed you all dearly,” Little Rascal said sincerely.

“Uncles, I missed you too,” Bei Feng wept.

After two years of hardship, especially their recent ordeal, returning to their family felt like finding solid ground again.

“Don’t cry, Bei Feng. You’re home now—we’ve all been waiting for you!” The gruff men clumsily wiped his tears.

“This time, we’re reunited for good!” Da Zhuang and the others hugged him, their own eyes glistening.

“You two wild things, disappearing for two years—you scared us half to death!” The village women shoved the men aside, their voices sharp and scolding.

“Bei Feng’s thinner but taller!”

“Little Rascal’s still so pretty. At ten and a half, we should call him by his proper name now!”

“Both have grown strong—ready to marry soon!”

The women chattered endlessly, bombarding the boys with questions. Meanwhile, the village girls—Tiger Girl, Feijiao’s daughter, and others—arrived, tugging at their sleeves excitedly.

When Little Rascal teased, “Tiger Girl, you’ve gotten chubby!” the girls chased him, forcing him to flee.

“Grandpa Chief!”

Rushing into the village, Little Rascal nearly collided with the elders, quickly bowing. Their hair had whitened further in two years, aging visibly—except for Chief Shi Yunfeng, who still looked relatively spry.

“Good, good—you’re back!” The elders trembled with emotion, especially the chief, who gripped Little Rascal’s hand, fighting back tears.

Having raised him since infancy, the childless chief saw him as his own grandson.

“Come, pay respects to the Willow God,” the elders urged.

Wiping his tears, Little Rascal turned to the radiant willow, bowing devoutly. “Willow God, thank you.”

A breeze stirred the glowing branches, their divine light shimmering like primordial mist as the tree responded:

“Go reunite with your kin first.”

“Yes!” Little Rascal nodded.

Nearby, the Crimson Bird shuddered in awe.

Just then, the Bald Vulture’s screams pierced the air—raw terror.

The village women, led by Tiger Girl’s mother, had seized it by the neck.

“These kids, so polite—bringing back prey already plucked! This bird’s plump, perfect for stew!”

They marched toward the village, discussing seasoning options as the Bald Vulture nearly fainted.

“Help! Murder!” it screeched.

“It talks! Must be a precious ingredient—don’t waste it, simmer it with rare herbs!”

The Bald Vulture broke into cold sweat. Now it understood how Little Rascal became such a glutton—with these women around, *anyone* would turn savage!

Its sealed strength was no match for their brute force. Choking, it wailed:

“Kid! Save me!”