Volume 2: Xingyao Heluo Prologue: Two Heavenly Questions

Autumn March brings a good harvest.

The villages on the Great Plains have begun to be busy with farming. The farmers are skillfully harvesting the golden ocean-like rice fields and picking the green fields of elixirs that maintain the relationship between the villages and the city-state.

The dark-skinned young man has a strong body and is digging a small channel with hoe after hoe. He wants to divert the spiritual water to his own field. We are preparing for the next year's soil cultivation. Those elixirs are more delicate than the last. This spiritual soil cannot be careless.

The key to cultivating spiritual soil lies here

After a while, the young man wiped the sweat with a yellowish towel on his neck. He turned his head and saw the little baby sitting on a field stalk, looking into the distance.

Hey, this kid, he hangs out too much with the kids in the city, and he doesn't seem to have any sense of leisure and elegance.

"Little brother, what are you looking at?" The man picked up the hoe and sat down next to the little baby. He looked at it from afar like him, whether it was mountains or rivers or rivers, it didn't mean anything.

"After digging the canal, we still need to collect the elixir. I have to collect this small piece today. If I can't collect it all, my father will scold me again when I get home."

This year's harvest is not very good. Look at the clumps of elixirs. In fact, there are only a few that can reach the highest grade. People in the city will not harvest those that cannot reach the highest grade. Therefore, my father has not been very good-tempered in the past two days, and even the man has been scolded a lot. In fact, he has been working very hard.

The little baby stretched out his short little finger and pointed to the mountain in the distance: "Brother, what do you think is behind the mountain?"

Brother smiled: "It's also a mountain, the same mountain as us."

"Then it's further away."

"It's one city after another, cities bigger than mountains."

"What about behind the city?"

"It is a big river that cannot be crossed."

The little boy became even more curious. He suddenly asked loudly, "What is there behind the river? Is there a mountain? Is there a city? Are there people like us? Can I be friends with them?"

The elder brother couldn't stand it anymore. He waved his big hands covered with yellow mud, gave the little boy a few perfunctory words, and continued to work, otherwise he would have to be scolded again when he returned home.

Xiaowa's question was not answered, and his eyes looked into the distance and the edge with a mixture of curiosity and disappointment.

On this endless plain, many children like little babies sat on field stalks and asked these questions. The only answers to them were the songs sung by the men like elder brothers who were busy farming. The songs floated in the air. Skyrim:

"Send my brother Xi off to the battlefield..."

"My brother is crossing the river to find my hometown..."

"My hometown is in my dreams, and a wanderer seeks my soul..."

"My brother is crossing the river..."

"My brother is crossing the river..."

"My hometown is gone."