Turned into an infant, lost his mother, hunted down...

Scenes like these flashed one after another through William Thompson's mind, leaving him utterly exhausted.

He wasn't even sure how old he was now in this infant body, but it couldn't be more than a year. His brain wasn't fully developed yet, and after all this turmoil, he couldn't help but feel dizzy, sleepy, and worn out.

Closing his eyes, William Thompson unconsciously drifted into a deep sleep.

But even in sleep, he still felt waves of inexplicable fear...

He had never believed that time travel was possible in this world, but when it happened to him, it wasn't joy he felt, but terror.

Confucius said: "The Master does not speak of strange phenomena, violence, disorder, or spirits."

It's not that he couldn't speak of them, but that he dared not, or perhaps didn't know how.

William Thompson thought that after experiencing this, maybe ghosts and spirits really did exist in this world? Otherwise, how could he have ended up in the body of an infant?

Phew, this is just too bizarre!

Chapter Two: The Eighteenth Year of Kaihuang (Part One)

Night fell, and the night wind carried a chill.

The wind wasn't fierce, but it was biting. William Thompson had no idea what era this was, let alone what season. Lying in the crevice of a giant rock, with only vines to block the cold wind, he was still awakened by the cold. After all, he was just a baby; no matter how good his constitution, he couldn't withstand it. The phrase "tormented by hunger and cold" fit perfectly here.

The crevice wasn't big—he couldn't even turn over.

When William Thompson opened his eyes, a wave of hunger hit him.

Strangely turned into a baby, and then hunted down... William Thompson was a bit worried whether Henry Clark could escape Edward Harris's pursuit. He didn't understand much, but he could tell that when Henry Clark parted from him, he was seriously injured.

It felt just like a martial arts drama!

Edward Harris?

What a strange name...

Thinking of all he'd been through, William Thompson's mind became muddled again.

Moonlight poured in through the gaps in the vines.

This seemed to be a desolate place. In the stillness of the night, the distant mountains echoed with the howls of wolves.

William Thompson was a little scared, but there was nothing he could do.

When Henry Clark left him here, it seemed to be just after noon.

But now it was already night, probably around eight or nine o'clock. Henry Clark still hadn't returned—most likely, things had gone badly. Well, even if he managed to escape Edward Harris's pursuit, if he didn't come back soon, William Thompson would be in danger. He had to think of something. Now he was just a tiny baby, completely helpless—what could he possibly do?

Would anyone pass by in the middle of the night?

William Thompson was hoping on one hand that Henry Clark could escape and return quickly; on the other hand, he was suffering from hunger and cold, hoping someone would pass by so he could beg for warmth and food. In short, waiting was no good, but not waiting was no good either—he was torn.

His body was on the verge of losing all feeling.

Suddenly, the sound of wheels and horse hooves reached his ears.

At the end of the road, a caravan appeared. Dozens of warriors in tight-fitting clothes led the way, followed by seven or eight carriages, and at the rear was a group of servants in black, all moving in a grand procession. William Thompson couldn't see what was happening outside, but hearing the wheels and hooves, he couldn't help but feel a surge of hope. Were there travelers passing by? It sounded like quite a few people.

Should he cry out for help?

William Thompson hesitated...

If he was rescued, what if Henry Clark came back and couldn't find him?

But if he didn't call for help, who knew when Henry Clark would return? What if he froze to death before then?

William Thompson only knew that his uncle was called Henry Clark, and his father's surname was Li.

If he lost contact with Henry Clark, wouldn't he lose all knowledge of his own background?

The sound of hooves passed by the giant rock and gradually faded away.

A gust of night wind lifted the vines, letting the cold air into the crevice, making William Thompson extremely uncomfortable. Forget it—staying alive was the most important thing!

If he lost his life, what use would it be even if Henry Clark came back?

Thinking this, William Thompson mustered all his strength and let out a sharp infant's wail.

"Stop the carriage!"

In the mounted party, a rider shouted loudly.

He cocked his ear to listen, then turned his horse and headed toward the source of the crying. A dozen warriors immediately followed. As they passed a luxurious carriage, the curtain in the window moved, and an aged voice came from inside, "Samuel Lewis, why have we stopped?"

"Father, I think I just heard the sound of a baby crying."

"In this desolate wilderness, where would a baby's cry come from? David Walker, did you hear it?"

From inside the carriage, another aged but slightly sharp and effeminate voice replied, "Master, this old servant heard it too."

There was a moment of silence inside the carriage.

"David Walker, go take a look... Samuel Lewis, send your men to spread out and search the area for anything suspicious."

Before the words had faded, the carriage curtain was lifted.

An elderly man with a pale, beardless face, dressed in a white robe with a half-sleeved vest over it, stepped out.