Records of the Human Emperor Chapter 1983: The Riddle of Birth!

"You…"

An Yaluoshan's eyes flickered, and after a long silence, he finally asked his question.

"You are my mother?"

The air in the tent seemed to pulse as An Yaluoshan asked this question.

As the future master of the Central Plains, the future true dragon, the one known by the Celestial God Organization as the 'Child of the World', and the 'Your Excellency' that Cui Qianyou and the others served, An Yaluoshan had always had an ambition to swallow the Central Plains and destroy the Great Tang.

But deep in his heart, An Yaluoshan had also always had a small and selfish desire: to find his mother.

He had been abandoned as a child, and his only proof of identity was the round bronze token that had been worn around his neck, the name 'Yaluoshan', and a paper slip that said, 'When the time has come, I will appear before you again.'

An Yaluoshan had always kept these objects by his side and memorized the words.

He had attempted before to investigate his background, but there had never been any clues, and after countless disappointments, he forgot about the matter.

But several days ago, to his surprise, he suddenly found a letter with the brand of that bronze token upon it. All it said was this:

'The time has come! Come to Mount Yaluo!'

All of his memories were recalled at that moment, and An Yaluoshan's heart once more began to waver.

The tent was quiet. An Yaluoshan stared at that hunched figure, his heart filled with anticipation.

After a long silence, a voice finally spoke. "The Child of God… has no mother!"

It was a hoarse and discordant voice, like two pieces of metal being rubbed together. It was both incredibly old and indescribably unpleasant.

An Yaluoshan immediately frowned, but he suppressed his discomfort and continued with his questions.

"What do you mean?"

"Hoohoohoo, just as I said, you are the son of a god, the blood of the war god left behind in the mortal world. How could you have a mother?"

The figure gave a cold and sinister laugh, like the cry of an owl in the night. Finally, that figure turned around

…