Don't mess with that Miao boy, he's sickly and perverted.

Chai Xiaomi, holding up her skirt, strode after Song Yueyao to a drum tower in a mountain stream.

Seeing Song Yueyao's figure flash into the door, she followed without hesitation.

Just as she lifted her foot to step over the threshold—

A blindingly bright white light rushed towards her and instantly engulfed her.

Chai Xiaomi suddenly closed her eyes tightly and subconsciously raised her hand to cover them.

next second.

The crisp chirping of cicadas pierced the silence and filled my ears.

A faint, clean scent of fresh bamboo floated in the air.

Chai Xiaomi slowly opened her eyes.

Where is this?

She looked around and was surprised to find herself standing in the witchcraft village where Wu Li lived.

But she was just in front of the Drum Tower, in the dead of night. How come in the blink of an eye, she's not only back here, but it's already dawn?

"Fried dough sticks, fried dough sticks!"

Chai Xiaomi called out in her heart several times but received no response.

Even the system has disappeared.

The blazing sun hung high in the sky, scorching the earth with its intense heat.

A sudden burst of noise came from afar, vaguely mixed with a few words that she had recently become very familiar with:

"Mongrel."

Chai Xiaomi's heart tightened.

She immediately turned around and hurried towards the sound.

The closer they got, the clearer the insults became, and they seemed to be complaining that the work was too slow.

She hid in a bamboo grove and saw a small figure busy all alone on the open ground in front of the altar.

He looks like a boy who is only three or four years old, but he doesn't have the plumpness and innocence that someone his age should have.

He was shockingly thin, almost skin and bones, with a head of messy, straw-like hair hanging on his head. He wore an oversized, old Miao garment that was extremely ill-fitting, barely covering his frail frame.

At this moment, he is holding a stack of heavy ceramic bowls, carefully placing them one by one on the offering table.

He was so short and small.

To place each bowl, one has to stand on tiptoe and stretch out one's thin arms to barely reach the tabletop.

Its body swayed occasionally, like a slender reed in the wind.

Despite his young age, he is exceptionally focused on what he does.

The bowls were aligned perfectly and arranged in a neat and orderly manner.

He seemed completely oblivious to the shrill laughter and curses of the children behind him, keeping his head down, pursing his lips, and silently and stubbornly completing the task at hand.

Chai Xiaomi stared at this scene in disbelief, feeling as if her heart had been twisted violently.

That tiny little thing.

Being ordered around to do chores is one thing, but to complain that he's not doing them fast enough is another.

"Can you hurry up, you little bastard!"

The shouting and cursing resumed, the older boy who seemed to be completely enraged by the younger boy's silence.

He rushed forward and kicked the thin man hard in the back, knocking him to the ground.

The little boy was kicked to the ground like a withered leaf, and the ceramic bowl in his arms crashed to the ground, shattering into pieces.

He fell amidst the shattered porcelain, sharp shards cutting his palm.

Blood gushed out from his palm in an instant.

"Oh no! That little bastard has smashed all the offering bowls!" The child who had done it immediately yelled, his voice filled with malicious excitement, "Go tell the chieftain and the high priest! Let him get a good punishment!"

"You son of a bitch, you're lying through your teeth! It was clearly you who started it!"

Chai Xiaomi gritted her teeth in anger and jumped out with a shrewish roar.

However, after letting out a howl...

Nothing happened.

She suddenly realized that none of these people could see her, nor could they hear her.

No one cared about the little boy's injuries; the crimson blood reflected in the eyes of these older children seemed like a celebration of their victory.

They ran off excitedly, laughing and joking, eager to file a complaint against someone who didn't even belong to them.

Only that small figure remained, curled up in the middle of the ruins, motionless.

He finally made a move after the noise of the crowd gradually faded away.

The little boy raised his bleeding hand and stared blankly for a moment. Just when Chai Xiaomi thought he was going to clean his wound, he started picking up the broken pieces on the ground instead.

She walked slowly to him and gazed at him for a long time.

Its tiny body is so cute and adorable, yet its quietness is heartbreaking.

He was very careful when picking up the pieces, stacking each piece in descending order of size. He's such a good boy, taking everything he does very seriously.

Chai Xiaomi suddenly squatted down, reached out her hand, and wanted to gently rub his head.

But her fingertips passed straight through his hair, touching only emptiness, her hand becoming invisible as it passed through it.

She paused, and after a long while, sighed and asked sadly, "Why aren't you crying, little one?"

Holding it in will make you sick; only by crying it out will you feel relieved.

The little boy paused slightly as he picked up the items.

Chai Xiaomi subconsciously shrank her neck, almost thinking he had heard her, but he just raised his head and gently brushed aside the messy hair hanging in front of his eyes.

On her dirty little face, only her heterochromatic eyes were clean.

So close, their crystal-clear waters, like two still pools untouched by the world, reflected the sunlight and her stunned expression.

Chai Xiaomi froze on the spot.

It is Wu Li.

More precisely, it is Wu Li (the younger version).

Could this be the childhood of a villain, which was never mentioned in the original work?

Chai Xiaomi watched helplessly as Xiao Wuli was dragged to the execution platform.

He was falsely accused and no one spoke up for him.

The clan chief surveyed the surroundings, his voice cold and hard: "Is there anyone willing to take the punishment in Wu Li's place?"

The entire place was deathly silent, with only suppressed giggles floating among the crowd.

"Twenty lashes, you'll have to bear them yourself." The clan chief's gaze returned to him. "Do you know your mistake?"

Wu Li's voice was still young, yet it carried a coolness that shouldn't belong to someone her age.

"I know I was wrong, Grandpa."

"Call me clan chief!" the old man roared. "Your mother, a holy maiden, was shameless, having an affair with a foreigner and giving birth to you, a wicked child, severing the lineage of the holy maiden! I have no daughter so despised, much less a grandson like you!"

The thorny whip lashed down fiercely!

Wu Li bit her lip, not making a sound.

"Stop!" Chai Xiaomi cried out anxiously, spreading her arms to shield Wu Li. "He's so small, he'll be beaten to death!"

But it was all in vain.

Amid the indifferent, even gleeful, gazes of the onlookers, the whip fell again and again.

Wu Li's thin back was quickly torn open, bleeding profusely, with almost no intact skin to be found.

Until all twenty lashes were completed.

He finally couldn't hold on any longer, his body slumped forward, and he completely lost consciousness.

Chai Xiaomi could hardly imagine what kind of tenacious willpower was hidden at her age to withstand one blow after another without even uttering a groan.

Under the scorching sun, he was left to bake in the blazing sun on the execution platform.

No one healed his wounds, not even a sip of water.

Chai Xiaomi knelt down beside him, futilely trying to shield him from the scorching sun with her body, yet hating that she didn't even have a shadow.

There is a sense of powerlessness, like a lost soul.

Just then, she saw several white worms slowly crawling out of those hideous wounds.

They wriggle and feed among the flesh, and the bleeding gradually stops, and the skin begins to heal at a visible speed.

It turns out that the Crimson Blood Silkworm had been implanted in his body so long ago.

In a sense, feeding on his flesh and blood is a blessing in disguise, as it allows his wounds to heal extremely quickly.

Chai Xiaomi stared blankly, then suddenly remembered that Wu Li had just called the clan chief "Grandpa".

She looked in the direction the clan leader had left, her eyes filled with confusion.

I overheard someone in the departing crowd mention that the clan chief went to speak with the high priest.

Chai Xiaomi had heard the title of High Priest more than once; it seemed to be the highest-ranking figure in the witchcraft clan.