Ten days submerged, hair dyed crimson by infernal steam—and he rises not with godlike calm, but raw, trembling defiance. That red mark on his forehead? Not power yet—just pain crystallized. The Grandmaster barely breaks a sweat. Oof. *The Legend of A Bastard Son* knows how to make suffering *glow*. 🌋
Xuewu’s descent into the Heavenpool isn’t just physical—it’s a brutal metaphor for filial devotion. Every gasp, every tremor in his soaked robes screams sacrifice. The Grandmaster’s warning? A hollow echo against a son’s resolve. 🔥 In *The Legend of A Bastard Son*, love wears white and bleeds red.