Volume One: Spring Has Yet to Return to Qilin Pavilion

Chapter One: What Year Is Tonight

Warm liquid splattered onto William Thompson’s body.

In his ears echoed shrill cries, the clash of metal, and utter chaos.

William Thompson opened his eyes, and what met his gaze was a woman’s face. The woman looked to be just over twenty, with delicate features. But at this moment, her pale and beautiful face seemed twisted in pain.

The woman was leaning over William Thompson, but propped herself up with her arms, as if afraid of pressing down on William Thompson.

“Baby, it’s okay, don’t be afraid!”

The woman lowered her head, meeting William Thompson’s eyes.

She forced a smile onto her pale face, spoke softly, and reached out an arm to hold William Thompson in her embrace.

Only then did William Thompson realize—he had become a baby!

“Don’t let the traitors escape, not a single one!”

Someone shouted loudly, their voice as sharp as clashing metal, full of vigor.

The woman’s expression changed, and she struggled to stand. William Thompson was still in shock from becoming a baby, but was horrified to discover that an arrow had pierced through the woman’s chest from behind, its cold, blood-stained tip protruding. The woman was gravely wounded, and William Thompson immediately understood that the warm liquid splattered on his face was her blood.

Earlier, the woman had propped herself up to keep the arrowhead from hurting William Thompson.

William Thompson was bewildered: What on earth was happening?

At forty years old, he had suddenly become an infant; and now, faced with this situation, it was far beyond his comprehension.

In this day and age, do people still kill with bows and arrows?

Fine, killing with bows and arrows is one thing, but why did it look like a massacre? And in broad daylight, no less. This is supposed to be a law-abiding society—aren’t those murderers afraid of legal consequences?

At this thought, anger surged in William Thompson’s heart, and he shouted, “Stop!”

But he forgot he was now a baby; with his newly formed vocal cords, his angry shout came out only as a wailing infant’s cry.

The woman held him with one arm, doing her best to keep the arrowhead from hurting William Thompson.

With her other hand, she grabbed a gleaming sword and, gritting her teeth, tried to run. Behind her, the sound of a bowstring rang out, and another arrow shot through the air, striking her thigh. She could no longer stand, and collapsed to the ground with a thud. William Thompson, who was in her arms, slipped from her grasp, rolled twice on the ground, and only stopped two or three meters away from the woman.

“Sis!”

After a furious roar, a series of metallic clashes and screams followed.

A man of immense stature appeared beside the woman. He was about 185 centimeters tall, with a strong, powerful build. His dark face was covered with a bristly beard like steel needles. His sword-like brows and tiger eyes shone with intensity.

He wore a black short jacket, with a vest-like garment over it, and sleeves that covered half his upper arms.

His hair was tied in a short topknot, he wore black boots, and in his hand he dragged a heavy, pitch-black staff, stained with sticky blood and mixed with some thick, whitish substance. He rushed to the woman’s side and held her in his arms.

“Baby... Sis, where’s the baby?”

The woman was barely breathing, yet still worried about the now-infant William Thompson.

The man immediately spotted William Thompson, dropped the heavy staff, and scooped William Thompson up in his arms.

In that brief moment, William Thompson took in his surroundings. It seemed to be a village, but now engulfed in flames. Amid the firelight, many men and women could be seen fleeing in panic, while countless figures in black clothes and leather armor, wielding gleaming swords and knives, hunted them down. The wails and screams were endless, and William Thompson was truly shocked! Judging by these people’s attire... this didn’t seem to be his original era.

Time travel!

That’s a term popular on the internet.

There are even movies and TV shows that depict such stories.

But the question was, what era was this?

The man held William Thompson in one arm and the woman in the other, his voice trembling: “Sis, the baby’s here, look!”

“Sis, take care of the baby. Take him and go, quickly.”

“If we go, we go together...”

The man’s body trembled slightly. William Thompson noticed the woman’s face growing paler, as if all life was draining from her. He began to understand: this woman was probably his mother. But the man holding him didn’t seem to be his father. Judging by their terms of address, the man and woman were more likely siblings. So, who was the child’s father?

The woman’s eyes were full of love and reluctance as she pressed her cheek to William Thompson’s.

“Brother, I can’t make it... Take the baby and go, find his father...”

Her voice grew softer and softer, until it was barely audible.