Chapter 2: FIELDS 1
Under the somber cover of night and amid a heavy downpour, a young woman was frantically running around a familiar expanse, a field contrasting a meadow that was once before. The rain poured relentlessly, drenching her to the bone, but she paid no heed to her soaked clothes or the mud that clung to her sandals.
An air of sorrow was shrouding the woman as she cautiously explored her surroundings, as if in search of something with utmost importance. It had seemed that the woman had been there for quite some time. Yet, she pressed on, guided only by her intuition and the touch of her surroundings, for she was unable to see.
With each step, she relied on her mere senses. Her feet, calloused and weathered, bumped against an elevated ground, and she paused, sensing an anomaly in the otherwise familiar terrain. Lowering herself gently, she knelt, her fingertips now becoming her eyes as they delicately traced the uneven texture of the ground, seeking out the telltale signs of what she so desperately hoped to find - her son's grave.
"My baby... Please forgive me," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of sorrow and remorse. Her fingertips gently grazed the bruise that still lingered on her neck.
In the depths of her soul, she carried the weight of betrayal, inflicted upon her by the man she had once trusted. His hands had closed around her throat, suffocating her voice and leaving her gasping for air, even though he was painfully aware that she bore his child in her stomach.
"I should've heeded the signs and stayed away from that man."
"How foolish I was to hold onto the fleeting hope of having a real family..." she whispered, her voice breaking as she curled over and wept, her tears falling upon the earth.
As her somber cries resonated, a sound akin to that of an infant's cry could be heard, melding with the lady's whimpers. Startled, the young woman broke her lament, her eyes widening as thunder unconventionally pierced the sky.
"Who was that?" she asked in disbelief, her mind questioning the validity of what her senses were perceiving. But the cries of an infant persisted, refusing to be dismissed as a mere illusion.
"Could it be..." she tilted her head downward, her blind eyes straining to see what her hands could not. Though sightless, she could still hear the faint sound emanating from the ground below.
Desperation compelled her to dig the ground with her hands, the cries persisted, growing louder, haunting her very being. She laid her head on the cold earth, straining to confirm that the sound indeed emanated from her son's very grave.
"Waah, waah." The cries reverberated through her head, each wail piercing her soul, filling her with an overwhelming sense of panic. With determination etched on her tear-streaked face, she dug tirelessly, desperate to reach the heartrending cries she heard.
Her hands began to bleed, the stones mercilessly wounding her. Yet, undaunted by the pain, she dug deeper, her heart pounding in her chest with each handful of dirt cast aside. Her fingers were raw and trembling, but she was determined to hold her child, a chance she was deprived of.
The rain continued to fall, its gentle patter a somber accompaniment to her frantic efforts, as if nature itself wept in resonance with her sorrow. With every scoop of earth, she clung to the hope of a miracle, hoping beyond reason that the cries she heard were not a cruel illusion. Her world had been shattered once, but she clung to the belief that her son was still alive. In this desperate moment, the heavens bore witness to a mother's unyielding love.
And then, as if the heavens had answered her prayers, her hands collided with a wooden surface, and she brushed away the dirt with trembling fingers. There, before her, lay a small crate, nestled within the earth's arms. As the lid of the crate was lifted, her grasp found something tender, something delicate.
Enveloping it in her embrace, she realized it was a baby. She traced the delicate features of the baby's face with her fingertips. She couldn't see, her world was cloaked in darkness, and she didn't even know what her real son looked like, but she could feel the softness of the baby's skin and the warmth emanating from the tiny body.
Amid the messy dug ground, from where rain-soaked soil clung to her trembling fingers, a makeshift crate rested within the gaping hole where the mysterious child had been found. Within that crate was the corpse of her son who departed prematurely at just 22 weeks in her womb.
How cruel and heartless it was for the person who buried this child as if it was nothing more than vegetables. It couldn't be called a coffin, it could only be described as a crude container to hide away the truth of a stolen life. However, the woman, unable to see, relied on her sense of touch to find solace in what she believed to be her child's presence. To her, what's real is the tangible connection she holds.
"Xin? It is you!" she gasped, her voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and wonder. "The Gods must have sent me a miracle for all the things I've endured." Though her eyes were veiled by darkness, her heart was illuminated by hope. Her fingers gently caressed the baby's delicate features, mapping every inch of his tiny face, creating an image of him in her mind.
A tall, shadowy figure emanated behind the young woman's back, looming like a specter in the darkness, its presence intensified by the spark of thunder. Lan Li Si's eyes widened as she felt the weight of a gaze upon her, an eerie sensation that sent shivers down her spine.
"I've been looking everywhere for you, Li Si" a voice called out, masking its violent nature with a deceptive concern. "What are you doing here? You should stay away from that place, or the others would find out," he said eerily, his words devoid of any remorse. The sinister tone in his voice sent a chill through Li Si's spine.
"Stay away from me, you m-monster!" she mustered the courage to respond, turning her head to face him, her delicate features contorted with anger. "What are you holding?" The man's eyes fell upon the child cradled in Li Si's arms.
"What are you talking about, Wei? He's our son! You buried our son alive!" Li Si's voice quivered, her eyes filled with anger and confusion.
"That's impossible! Our son is dead!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and fear, his facade faltering for a moment as raw emotions spilled through the cracks of his composure.
"But he's alive, Wei, see?" she insisted. "I can feel the breeze of his breath on my hands. Oh, my child, how I'm so glad I can still embrace you in my arms," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.
As he gazed at the infant, he noticed the glimmer of crimson in the child's eyes, and its hair, like flickering flames, and its skin like snow. It was evident - this child wasn't their own. Their son, a premature stillbirth, possessed translucent skin, veins faintly visible beneath. The disparity was striking, and Wei's conviction grew stronger. "This can't be our son," he ruminated silently. "Li Si might not comprehend it, but a 22-week-old baby couldn't possibly resemble this."
"Unless..." the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning, a desperate hope flickering in the depths of his conscience. "If that were true, then everything would go back to the way it was..." he muttered, his mind racing with the possibilities.
The incident of him hurting Li Si, causing her to miscarry, had happened only recently. If he could pretend that their son was still alive, then perhaps he could escape the consequences of his actions.
"I must have made a grave mistake, Li Si. It was a tragic accident, a terrible misunderstanding. I thought he was gone, so I buried what I believed to be our child. Please, find it in your heart to forgive me. If only you could forgive, we might have a chance to mend the shattered pieces of our lives and reclaim the happiness we once knew. We can return home, where peace and love once resided, with you, me, and our son," he said with remorse in his voice, though his true intent remained concealed beneath a shroud of cowardice and manipulation.
Li Si gave careful thought to what Lan Wei had said, the painful memories of Wei's past violence throughout their marriage still fresh in her mind. "No... I can't risk following you again. The scars from your past actions are still there, and I can't ignore the pain you caused," she said, her voice tinged with sadness as she recalled the initial facade of kindness she had fallen for. She reminisced about the days when Lan Wei seemed like a different person, a caring and compassionate individual who had offered her an escape from the violence of her own family.
As tears welled in her eyes, her memories revealed the vulnerability she once had, trapped in a world of abuse from her family, her mother broken by her husband's gambling addiction and drinking habits. When Lan Wei came into her life, she had yearned for liberation from her past, and when he proposed they elope, she couldn't resist the allure of a fresh start.
But now, everything had changed. The cruel reality of Lan Wei's true character had been exposed over time, and she had endured enough suffering. She couldn't bear to be deceived once more by the illusion of his kindness. With strength in her heart, she finally found the courage to stand up for herself, determined not to be trapped in a cycle of pain and manipulation any longer.
"You...." Wei spat out, his voice laced with anger and disdain. "I never cared about you other than your appearance in the first place. You were so innocent and gullible, I thought you'd make a great wife," he thought to himself, his inner thoughts revealing his true malice.
The bitter reality was that nobody had ever shown Lan Wei love or affection, not even his own parents. He had been condemned to a life of rejection and scorn, a life marred by a horrid face resembling that of a pig, and in the modern era, some might compare his features to those of an orc. Perhaps it was the relentless cruelty he had endured from others that warped his perception of the world and tainted his heart with darkness.
It was Li Si that showed him love for the first time. But it had seemed that not even Li Si's kindness could mend the deep-seated evil that had taken root in Wei's heart. The mere thought of Li Si discovering his true appearance haunted him, and he dreaded the idea of witnessing her disgusted reaction. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her. If that were to happen, he felt like he would lose everything.
"You will go home with me no matter what it takes!" he snarled with venomous rage. His hands clenched around the shovel he had used to bury their son.
"No... I won't let you hurt my son again!" Li Si's voice quivered with fear and defiance as she desperately attempted to flee from Wei's malevolent grasp. Her eyes darted around, searching for any escape, but Wei's quick reflexes closed in on her, leaving her trapped.
With an unwavering resolve, he swung the shovel, his intentions clear—to strike her head and inflict harm. But in that fleeting moment, Li Si's motherly instincts took over, her hands moving with lightning speed to shield Xin, her most cherished possession, from any potential danger. She held him close to her heart, above her stomach.
The shovel connected with a sickening thud, and pain exploded in Li Si's head. Her vision blurred, and the world spun in disarray. She landed on her back, a small trickle of blood escaped from the wound, staining the ground beneath her.
A truly horrid scene unfolded, witnessed only by the eyes of the supposed innocent infant. As the child stared at Lan Wei, a tiny emotion of spite formed on the infant's face, sending shivers down his spine. He had never seen such a sinister expression on a baby before, and it unnerved him deeply. The child's very presence felt eerie, considering the mysterious circumstances of its birth. What kind of baby comes from the ground?
Despite his initial urge to abandon the child, Wei knew he couldn't let go of the baby. The infant's existence held potential consequences, and he needed to keep it close to cover the crimes he had committed.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Art1111
Art1111 Jiàn Shén means Sword God.
Jian- sword, blade
Shen- divine, god
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone