Dressed in a pristine white robe, Ling Tian held onto a jade-green flute and sat on a comfortable chair by his window. A warm smile could be seen on his face as he reminisced about his past life, where he and his siblings would go fishing in a small stream when they were younger. They would build a small mud dam upstream of the stream and another one downstream. Then, the few of them would scoop out all the water in the center portion like excited little monkeys. Finally, the fishes would then be seen bouncing around in the remaining shallow water. At that time, Xue’er, Meng’er, LingChao…
Then, a bitter smile could be seen on Ling Tian’s face as the thoughts seemed so distant to him. At that time, all of them were probably only about five or six years old. Furthermore, that was probably the only fragment of his memory where they were not fighting and scheming against each other. It was really a pity that the good days just can’t be kept…
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