Tomb Raider: The Adventures of a Dumb Man

Tiandao didn't understand why Bai Ma was obsessed with his child.

So after the collapse of several worlds, it gave Bai Ma a chance.

The time in each world is different.

How far she can go depends on herself.

Tiandao wants to see Bai Ma’s choice and what she can do.

Bai Ma was also watching, looking at her child.

A certain world.

With the existence of Bai Ma, "Zhang Qiling" will no longer be a code name for the patriarch, but will return to its most original meaning - "the wind blowing through the barley ears when they hang down" in Tibetan.

Bai Ma hugged the young official and kissed his head.

"Mom is back."

The child waved his limbs hard and began to giggle.

Bai Ma took the shielding device that he had bitten off from Tiandao. Since then, no one in the Zhang family remembered this child. They just thought that he was dead, and Bai Ma was also dead.

She is the new Baima.

She is the new junior official.

In the morning light of Medog, this name will become the whisper of a mother calling her young son home, rather than a curse echoing behind a bronze door.

He will be written into the household registration file as "Zhang Xiaoguan", with the occupation column filled in with "snow mountain guide" or "thangka painter apprentice", and his fingerprints stained with mineral pigments of cobalt blue and cinnabar.

The unicorn that emerged with body temperature was no longer a totem of violence.

When Bai Ma uses herbs to steam his back, the inky black kirin will fade into a blue-gray yak pattern - a blessing pattern that the plateau tribes give to their newborns to ward off evil spirits.

Every Tibetan New Year, Bai Ma would use ghee mixed with gold powder to fill in the edges of his patterns, as tenderly as a mother in the Central Plains piercing the earlobes of her child.

His nasal cavity is not filled with the putrid smell of the tomb, but rather stores a cleaner spectrum of smells: the frankincense on Bai Ma's cuffs when she's milking yaks, the smoky smell of roasted mulberry and cypress branches, and the salty smell of mutton dried in the cellar in winter.

These smells will become the original code for him to understand the world, rather than the odor purgatory composed of bloody corpses and corpse beetles.

The black gold ancient sword that the Zhang family uses to train candidates for the clan leader will never fall into his hands.

Instead, Bai Ma used a toy knife made from red willow wood. The handle was wrapped with colorful strings and the blade was blunt enough to be used to peel apples for her sister Zhuoma.

When he accidentally cut his sheepskin coat with this knife one day, he would not be beaten with a ruler, but his mother would smile gently as she applied gesang petals to the wound.

In the original timeline, the Wang family deduced through the star chart that "Zhang Qiling" was the key to breaking the deadlock. But when this variable disappeared in the mist of the snowy mountains, their probability calculations would have a black hole-level error.

On a moonlit night in 1943, the head of the Wang family intelligence team was roaring at the suddenly chaotic hexagrams, but he didn't know that at this moment Zhang Xiaoguan was chasing marmots in the Medog River Valley, with a conch fossil he had just picked up in his lapel.

Master Zhang Dafo will never hear the legend of "Zhang Qiling" on a rainy night in Changsha.

The boy from the Xie family, who was trained by Wu Laogou, searched through all the ancient books but could not find even a single word about "Qilin blood".

History quietly split into two rivers - one was surging with the cold light of the black gold ancient sword, and the other reflected the shadow of Zhang Xiaoguan fishing for cold water fish by the stream.

He might have fought for the right to collect Cordyceps during the Cordyceps season when he was seventeen.

When Bai Ma applied hot cow dung to his wounds, he had no idea that this pain was far more merciful than the mechanisms in the Zhang Family Ancient Building - at least the face of the perpetrator was clear and hateful, rather than a nameless shadow wrapped in the mist of history.

One evening when he got lost while picking matsutake mushrooms, he might have encountered a time and space distortion at an altitude of 4500 meters.

In an instant, countless fragments of memories from parallel worlds flooded into his mind: the ten years of loneliness behind the bronze door, the blood oozing from the cracks in the Banai stones, and Wu Xie's dying face in the snake swamp.

But the next second, Bai Ma's call with a torch in hand pierced the illusion, and those images evaporated like morning dew, leaving only a slight pain in the temple.

His blood could still scatter wolves, but Bai Ma taught him to use this ability to protect migratory herders.

Every early summer, he would use his fingertips’ blood to draw swastikas on the yurts in the herders’ camps, so that the yaks would avoid the poisonous grass areas. The Tibetans called him “Snow Mountain Spiritual Child”, but what they offered him was not reverence, but home-brewed barley wine and air-dried milk residue.

The Fa Qiu fingers are no longer used to crack tomb mechanisms, but instead are used to perform "splitting stones with bare hands" at the Nagqu Horse Racing Festival. Gravels that are concave inwards between the five fingers become amulets that children fight over.

When he crushed the skull of a sneak attacking brown bear with his knee, Bai Ma would cry and beat him: "Why don't you run away!" But after he fell asleep, she would secretly kiss the faint scratches.

He died on the night of an unrecorded avalanche at the age of sixty-two.

The funeral procession included the shepherdess he had rescued from a wolf, the baby with fever who had recovered after drinking his blood wine, and the fifteen Tibetan pheasants he had fed all year round.

The tombstone is a piece of uncarved shale. When Bai Ma carved "Zhang Xiaoguan" with a hairpin, rock chips mixed with snow water seeped into the frozen soil.

Three hundred years later, a geologist named Wu accidentally discovered a special hemoglobin sample sealed in the rock strata while investigating the retreat of glaciers in Motuo.

The test report showed that the gene chain had traces of unnatural splicing, and the project team excitedly named it "Tibetan Mutant S-07".

But they will never know that the proudest identity of the owner of this sample was the clumsy son of the Baima family who always molded tsampa into the shape of a rabbit.

Bai Ma also died of old age a few years after the official left.

Tiandao asked about this result.

"Your child only has 62 years. Is this the life you expect?"

Bai Ma's eyes were gentle, "The greatest sin my child suffered was fighting and bleeding from his fingertips, but he is admired and loved, not stone. If I want to make him as strong as a god and let him live his original life, I don't want to."

"Bai Ma doesn't want to."

Heavenly Way: . . . .

“Life is short.”

"The little official is loved."

Bai Ma’s words made the Heavenly Dao unable to refute. It had made a mistake and needed someone to make up for it, but this person’s mother was an exception.

She is terribly persistent.

The so-called overall situation of the Nine Gates was built at the cost of sacrificing Zhang Qiling, who lost his memory, was seriously injured, and was involved in the ultimate secret.

"Wu Xie is dead, Fatty is dead, they are all dead."

There is no ups and downs in the words of the Heavenly Dao.

It is examining Bai Ma.

Bai Ma sneered.

“First, I’m a mother.”

"Second, my children have died for them too many times."

"Third, why should they let my children bleed for them?"

"Fourth, isn't this caused by you, Heaven's Law? It's you who caused this."

My children are not tools.

It is not a tool of the Nine Gates, not a tool of the Zhang family, and not a tool of the Wang family.

He is a human being. As a human being, he has been happy for 62 years, which is much better than the 20 years of being exploited, betrayed, losing his memory and being experimented on. Her children can cry, make trouble and act like a spoiled child, and that is enough.