Escape From the Asylum Ch42

Author: 木尺素 / Mu Chisu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 42

Zhou Qian and Chen Yangzhou arranged to have lunch together at noon and, incidentally, discussed various questions Zhou Qian wanted to ask.

At 11, Chen Yangzhou drove over, picked up Zhou Qian and Qi Liuxing, and left. Of course, he also returned the urn to Zhou Qian.

Spring Hill Mental Asylum implemented zone management. Both Zone 2 and Zone X had a prison-like nature, and the patients inside were under strict supervision. Especially in Zone X, entry and exit were strictly prohibited for anyone other than medical staff.

However, the management of Zone 1 was much more relaxed.

For someone with mild symptoms like Zhou Qian, with the doctor’s evaluation and the occasional leniency of the nurse, he could apply for the chance to leave.

This time the police came to take him away, making things even easier.

On the way to the restaurant, inside an SUV.

Zhou Qian and Qi Liuxing sat side by side in the back seat. Zhou Qian held an urn, occasionally glancing inside. The scene seemed eerily familiar.

The only difference was that this time, the driver wasn’t a rideshare driver, but the policeman Chen Yangzhou.

Before Zhou Qian could ask Chen Yangzhou in detail, he received a call.

He answered and heard the voice of Yun Xiangrong.

Guessing what news Yun Xiangrong might bring, Zhou Qian fell silent, frowning.

Yun Xiangrong said directly, “[Tick Tock Clock], I’ve returned it to Qi Liuxing. Also… Gao Shan passed away not long after last night. Car accident. He didn’t make it.”

Without responding, Yun Xiangrong continued, “I’m just letting you know. I know you’re not the type to genuinely console others. I didn’t expect you to say anything comforting.”

She then became more serious. “A man named ‘Priest’ came to see me, asking me to join the ‘Peach Blossom Legion’. Perhaps he’s the mastermind behind Gao Shan’s death.”

Zhou Qian’s tone also became serious. “Yun Xiangrong, I need to remind you. When we were in the instance, I didn’t have time to chat with you. Moreover, with the gambler watching, it wasn’t convenient. But now I have time, and I can tell you that I don’t agree with your choice. Do you know what you’re facing? Do you think they’d rashly trust you and really sever ties with me?”

Yun Xiangrong replied calmly, “But this is the only way I can get closer to them faster.”

Zhou Qian frowned. “Actually, Situ Qing isn’t inherently wicked. The reason she would kill…”

Glancing at Chen Yangzhou in front of him, Zhou Qian continued, “She killed that young boy in the game because she feared the group behind her. She’s afraid of terrible punishment. She’s terrified of revealing secrets about that group. A group that could force someone as inherently not bad as her to commit such acts—”

“Given this, [Priest] coming to you and even revealing the group’s name… What do you think his intentions are?”

“I know. He wants to use me. Maybe they think I’ve betrayed you and see me as someone malleable, someone they can use against you using my resentment for you.”

“But of course, there’s also the possibility that they guess I’m pretending, that I haven’t truly betrayed you. In this case, they can still use me. Use the fact that I can still contact you, use me against you. But regardless…”

Yun Xiangrong smirked. “I can use them back. I will get close to them. Whatever happens afterward, we’ll just adapt.”

“Before Shan Ge closed his eyes, he told me he wished you wouldn’t seek revenge,” Zhou Qian said. “I told him I couldn’t persuade you.”

Hearing this, Yun Xiangrong didn’t say anything. After a moment of silence, she hung up.

Zhou Qian slowly lowered the phone, watching it lock itself, but didn’t do anything else.

At that moment, sensing something, he looked forward and saw, through the rearview mirror, Chen Yangzhou’s questioning gaze.

Zhou Qian quickly adjusted his expression, then patted Qi Liuxing on the shoulder, gesturing for both of them to give Chen Yangzhou a goofy, rich-kid smile.

Then he said to the driver, “Officer Chen, don’t mind us. We were just talking about a game!”

“Well, your game sounds quite adolescent and seems pretty dramatic. What’s it called?”

Chen Yangzhou, nearing forty, seemed to have a grasp on younger generation lingo from the way he asked.

“Ugh, staying in the ward every day is so boring. Just playing around for fun.” Zhou Qian asked him, “What do you plan to treat us to?”

“We’re almost there. How about a roast duck restaurant?” Chen Yangzhou asked.

Zhou Qian’s face immediately showed distaste. “It better not be one of those fly-infested little diners. I won’t go.”

Chen Yangzhou shrugged. “I don’t earn much. Don’t expect me to live up to the lifestyle standards you’re used to.”

“We can treat you then!” Zhou Qian offered.

“I’m much older than you both. You could practically call me ‘uncle’,” Chen Yangzhou said, pressing on the accelerator. “Why would kids like you pay for the meal?”

“Uncle? Well, that might be a stretch.” Zhou Qian laughed. “You’re not even 40 yet.”

“Still, I’m sort of friends with your father. We are of the same generation.” Chen Yangzhou glanced at Zhou Qian through the rearview mirror. “What game were you guys talking about earlier?”

“Just some online games, mostly about cultivation and stuff. Why?” Zhou Qian inquired.

Chen Yangzhou shook his head, speaking with a hint of nostalgia. “It’s just that… I remember your dad being quite addicted to games. He would often hide with his phone for hours.”

“I’ve always wondered if his bankruptcy had anything to do with gaming. I hope he wasn’t involved in gambling games. Zhou Qian, learn from his mistakes. Don’t gamble.”

Upon hearing this, Zhou Qian was genuinely surprised. His expression grew stern, and his eyes became deep and thoughtful.

After a while, Zhou Qian interrupted Chen Yangzhou’s words of caution, “How did you get to know my dad?”

Chen Yangzhou signaled a turn and drove to another lane. “An employee at your dad’s company committed suicide. It didn’t seem like the guy had any reason to kill himself. I was suspicious and often visited your dad’s company to interview the employees. This is how I got close to your father.”

“Your dad is a good person, very cooperative, and he didn’t blame me for interrupting his work. Later on… he would occasionally invite me for meals and such. We’re not very close, but you could say we’re friends. So, treating you to a meal is really the least I can do. Hmm, let me think… Oh right, we were talking about games—”

“Didn’t your dad frequently invite me for meals? But I noticed that many times he would take his phone and lock himself in the bathroom, staying in there for several hours without coming out. When I asked him what was going on, he said he was playing a game… See, games can be harmful. One shouldn’t get addicted!”

In Zhou Qian’s view, the people his father associated with weren’t trustworthy. He had never taken an interest in his father’s social circle, let alone knowing his connection with Chen Yangzhou.

From Chen Yangzhou’s words, Zhou Qian started to have strong suspicions. Could it be possible that his father, Zhou Chongshan, was involved in this game?

Chen Yangzhou mentioned his dad hiding in the restroom with his phone. It seemed that if Zhou Chongshan was really connected to this game, he was more of a gambler than a player.

At least from what Chen Yangzhou had observed, Zhou Chongshan seemed to take on the role of a gambler.

If Zhou Chongshan indeed had deep ties to the game, then his association with a police officer like Chen Yangzhou makes sense.

Police investigate cases, and players who lose in the game die in real life. If Zhou Chongshan was close to Chen Yangzhou, he could glean a lot of information.

Zhou Qian didn’t doubt that the so-called “suicidal” employee from Zhou Chongshan’s company might have had ties to the game and possibly even to Zhou Chongshan himself. Zhou Chongshan’s motive for getting close to Chen Yangzhou now seemed apparent—he was afraid Chen Yangzhou would uncover the true secret behind the employee’s death.

Externally, Zhou Qian kept his composure, just holding the urn tighter and looking down at it. Every day, many people die. But which of these deaths were natural and which involved some supernatural force?

Now, Zhou Qian realized that his father’s death might not have been so simple.

A certain intuition, whose origin even he was unaware of, could it be true?

After all, if there was someone in this world who would help him unconditionally…

In Zhou Qian’s view, that person could only be Bai Zhou.

“What’s wrong?” Chen Yangzhou asked, noticing Zhou Qian’s silence. “Are you okay?”

Zhou Qian shook his head and continued, “So, what was the final verdict on that suicidal employee?”

“No choice. All evidence pointed to suicide. At the time of the incident, he was locked inside his own house with windows shut tight. Elevator surveillance even showed no one visited his floor when it happened.” Chen Yangzhou sighed. “I had to close the case as a suicide.”

“So… did he have a mental illness?” Zhou Qian asked.

Chen Yangzhou countered, “Why do you ask?”

Zhou Qian replied, “Based on what you just said, he must have committed suicide. Could he possibly have had depression or something similar?”

“He doesn’t have depression. As far as I know, he doesn’t have any other mental health issues either,” Chen Yangzhou said. “That’s why I said he shouldn’t have any possibility of committing suicide. But the fact is… all the evidence points to suicide. Haa, who knows what really happened.”

Upon hearing this, Zhou Qian exchanged a glance with Qi Liuxing, both of them falling into a brief silence. What Zhou Qian was pondering was: his father was likely a gambler, and the employee who “committed suicide” was probably a player who failed to clear a level in a game and consequently died in real life. From the information Zhou Qian had gathered, whether genuinely ill or not, players seem to have some association with mental hospitals.

So why did this particular employee have no mental issues?

To avoid arousing Chen Yangzhou’s suspicions, Zhou Qian didn’t probe further but used his phone to search for more information about Yu Xian.

Yu Xian was murdered in the presidential suite of a five-star hotel, and the killer was Zhu Qiang.

Yu Xian and Zhu Qiang, Zhou Qian had just met them both through the game interface not long ago. By game time, this incident took place three days ago, but in real-time, it happened yesterday. In such a short span…

Yu Xian was indeed killed by Zhu Qiang. It seemed he didn’t heed Zhou Qian’s warning to flee.

But what awaited Zhu Qiang?

Would he be simply arrested as the murderer… or did he have a way to escape?

Zhou Qian’s gaze temporarily left his phone, taking a brief glance ahead. Despite a murder occurring yesterday, Chen Yangzhou could still dine with him, indicating that the incident probably wasn’t within his jurisdiction.

Thus, Zhou Qian decided not to ask further.

If the game involved supernatural entities and if Zhou Chongshan and his employee died because of it, then the game’s arrival in this world was earlier than Zhou Qian had imagined.

After all these years, the game’s secrets had remained hidden. Thus, the system behind the game, or its designers, likely didn’t want humans to uncover its truths.

Given Chen Yangzhou’s sensitive position, he might be a target closely monitored by the game system.

He was a decent man, and Zhou Qian didn’t want to cause him unwarranted trouble. So, he decided not to bring up the subject again.

Aside from inquiring about Bai Zhou, Zhou Qian resolved not to ask Chen Yangzhou anything further. It wasn’t necessary to involve him.

……

On the way to the restaurant, Zhou Qian managed to glean some unexpected information from Chen Yangzhou. As for Bai Zhou, he’d have to wait until they were seated to properly inquire.

Zhou Qian realized the place Chen Yangzhou brought him to was quite shabby. The restaurant was tiny, with only five tables. Cleanliness and ambiance would score zero, and even the furniture appeared greasy.

But Qi Liuxing, who wasn’t on the same page as Zhou Qian, commented upon entering, “The aroma of the roast duck is wonderful! I’d love to taste how good it is.”

“Yes,” Chen Yangzhou agreed. “These ducks are free-range from the countryside and have absolutely no hormones. The chef here has excellent technique. There’s no other place like this in our city. Ah, my wife…”

“Ahem, she never lets me eat this. Today is finally a chance to feast on duck.”

Considering Chen Yangzhou’s statements, Zhou Qian, although uneasy, sat down. With a requesting demeanor, he looked earnestly at Chen Yangzhou. “So, Officer Chen—”

Before Zhou Qian could finish, Qi Liuxing interrupted. “Are you sure… you want to eat while holding an urn?”

Zhou Qian’s fierce gaze darted over. “My friend has been lying underground for years. Can’t I let him experience the… the unique aroma of this city’s roast duck?”

The restaurant owner, serving appetizers, paused upon hearing this, then pretending not to hear, quickly placed the dishes and scurried away.

However, Chen Yangzhou, being an experienced detective, had weathered many storms over the years. Given that he knew about Zhou Qian’s mental issues, his expression remained unchanged, and he was extremely calm, showing not a hint of surprise.

When Zhou Qian turned his head back to look at Chen Yangzhou, his face immediately softened. “So, what exactly is going on with my classmate, Bai Zhou?”

Chen Yangzhou was worried about triggering Zhou Qian’s emotions, so he said in a very gentle tone, “Based on some bone residues that were not completely burned, it seems they are human bones for sure, but other details can’t be discerned. After all, DNA is organic, and once it’s burnt, it’s impossible to conduct further tests.”

Zhou Qian frowned.

Chen Yangzhou then asked him, “Why do you think these aren’t Bai Zhou’s ashes?”

“He appeared in my dream, telling me he wasn’t dead.” Zhou Qian’s gaze was pure and innocent. At this moment, his expression clearly indicated one thing: he’s asking these questions because he suffers from a mental disorder.

So, Chen Yangzhou just sighed deeply.

Zhou Qian quickly asked, “Did you find out anything else for me? Like how he died?”

“Oh. I did ask around for you. He died of illness,” said Chen Yangzhou.

“Illness?” Zhou Qian’s brows furrowed. “What illness?”

ALS*,” Chen Yangzhou replied. “You might have heard of it, also known as Lou Gehrig’s disease or motor neuron disease.”

*Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis is a rare neurodegenerative disease that results in the progressive loss of motor neurons that control voluntary muscles. Motor neuron loss continues until the abilities to eat, speak, move, or, lastly, breathe are lost. There is no known cure.

“I’ve heard of it. Stephen Hawking had it, right?” Zhou Qian was momentarily stunned.

Chen Yangzhou continued, “Yes. It’s said that the disease often strikes those older than 30. For your classmate to get it at 16 or 17 is quite rare.”

Zhou Qian, slightly taken aback, didn’t respond.

He immediately pulled out his phone to search for the symptoms of the disease.

From what Zhou Qian found, those with the disease initially feel easily fatigued, experience sudden weakness, or have uncoordinated movements. But in its later stages, the whole body’s muscles atrophy, swallowing becomes difficult… until they die in endless pain.

At that moment, the restaurant’s owner brought over the roast duck, loudly announcing something about giving them some duck liver as a treat.

Qi Liuxing seemed to notice something was amiss and gently called Zhou Qian’s name.

Chen Yangzhou began to elaborate on how to eat different parts of the duck…

Voices overlapped, and the clear sound of chopping from the kitchen echoed. But Zhou Qian paid no attention. Before his eyes, the memory of a high school ping pong match emerged.

During the finals, surrounded by cheering classmates, Zhou Qian gripped his paddle, looking intently at Bai Zhou across the table. This match meant a lot to him. He felt he had to best Bai Zhou in some way.

It was Bai Zhou’s turn to serve. His serving technique was always impeccable, making it extremely difficult to return. But that time, as Bai Zhou tossed the ball with his left hand, preparing to hit it with his right, his right hand suddenly dropped, missing the ball… a service error.

Then, Zhou Qian slammed the ball, and Bai Zhou had to return it with a backhand. Zhou Qian’s shot was a bit off, not landing in a tricky position. Bai Zhou should’ve been able to hit it, but Zhou Qian clearly saw Bai Zhou’s hand tremble, and the ball missed the table and fell to the ground.

Zhou Qian couldn’t hear the cheers or questions from the surrounding students. All he heard was the diminishing “thump, thump” of the ball hitting the ground. And what he missed at that time but recalled now was Bai Zhou’s momentary daze and lost expression while holding the paddle.

The scene changed, taking Zhou Qian to a pathway on the way home from school. Yellow leaves were falling, and the sound of the ping pong ball echoed.

Zhou Qian saw himself gripping Bai Zhou’s collar, asking fiercely, “Why did you let me win on purpose?”

In that moment, was Bai Zhou’s gaze as calm as Zhou Qian thought? In the dim light, in the corners not lit by streetlights… Did his eyes reveal something Zhou Qian missed?

“Zhou Qian, are you okay?!”

Following that loud shout, Zhou Qian felt two strong pats on his shoulders.

He looked up to see two worried faces—Qi Liuxing and Chen Yangzhou.

“I’m fine.” Zhou Qian’s voice was slightly dry. He asked Chen Yangzhou, “Bai Zhou fell ill. And then?”

“Oh… Bai Zhou…” Chen Yangzhou took a few more looks at Zhou Qian. After sitting down again, he picked up a duck leg and began to gnaw on it, continuing, “Bai Zhou was in the Municipal People’s Hospital at the time. My cousin is a doctor there. He said he remembered Bai Zhou. Because the kid was exceptionally handsome and reportedly excelled both in character and learning. My cousin still feels it’s such a pity; he remembers him vividly. He said Bai Zhou did die, although…”

Zhou Qian picked up on something. “Although what? Tell me the exact words of the doctor.”

Chen Yangzhou replied, “Although his condition worsened faster than expected, he indeed died in the end.”

……

That afternoon. Spring Hill Mental Asylum, Zone 1, Public Rest Area.

Qi Liuxing began his lookout duties again.

Because Zhou Qian was sitting in a tree with the ashes in one hand and binoculars in the other.

“Aren’t we supposed to go and bury him? Why are you still holding onto his ashes?” Qi Liuxing, sitting under the tree, couldn’t help but ask. “I paid for that tombstone too! We can’t waste it!”

Zhou Qian just looked at the opposite Zone X and said lightly, “I thought about it. There’s no need to bury. The graveyard management is so messy.”

Qi Liuxing: “So…?”

Zhou Qian: “Just keep it in our ward. You won’t mind, right?”

Qi Liuxing: “How do you know I won’t mind?”

Zhou Qian: “Your brother is staying with us, and I don’t mind.”

Qi Liuxing: “…………”

“So, what are you doing now? Where are we going next?”

“I’m waiting… for [137] to take me as a disciple.”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Qizi Ch42

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 42

When Ling Xiao said this, his expression was extraordinarily melancholic. For a split second, Ying Feng never wanted to know the truth inside that box.

What he didn’t know was that just yesterday, Ling Xiao had the idea to destroy the contents of the box. Yet, Ying Feng’s actions today in defending him dispelled that thought. Agreeing to let Ying Feng open it after his death was the greatest concession he could make. Still, even then, Ying Feng would probably think it was just a pile of worthless junk inside.

Then, he saw Ying Feng pull out a dagger from his chest. Due to this action, his eyes widened in shock.

“Just to see what’s inside, you’re so eager to kill me?”

Upon hearing this, the corner of Ying Feng’s eyes twitched. He then handed the dagger to Ling Xiao, hilt-first, with a cold expression.

Ling Xiao stared intently for a while, finally realizing Ying Feng’s intention.

He tentatively took it, half-doubting. “For me?”

Ying Feng didn’t deny.

“Mine…”

“It broke when fighting the Kui.”

Only then did Ling Xiao remember. With all the unexpected events happening lately, such trivial matters had been pushed to the back of his mind.

Realizing his misunderstanding, Ling Xiao shyly lowered his head under the pretense of inspecting the dagger. He then noticed the pattern engraved on it. After closely identifying it, he realized it was a depiction of the Kui.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Kui,” Ying Feng succinctly replied.

“I know it’s Kui… I’m asking why is it Kui?”

“Just a memento.”

Because of the Kui, both their life trajectories had changed. Whether they liked it or not, the Kui had intertwined their paths. So, when the shopkeeper asked what to engrave, the first thing he thought of was the Kui.

Ling Xiao hesitated. Under these circumstances, he should say thank you. But thinking of the recent events and all that Ying Feng had done, he couldn’t bring himself to utter those words. As he grappled with his emotions, Ying Feng sat down to read a book borrowed from the library.

Ling Xiao knew that Ying Feng didn’t expect a thank you, just as he didn’t expect an apology for the other day. The room was silent except for the rustling sound of pages turning. Ling Xiao never knew that Ying Feng was such a studious person. Unfortunately, with his back turned, Ling Xiao couldn’t see the book’s cover or its contents.

Feeling the atmosphere was too stifling, Ling Xiao moved to leave. As he opened the door, Ying Feng, without turning his head, asked, “Where are you going?”

The words “none of your business” circled in Ling Xiao’s throat but eventually came out as a muffled, “Going to eat.”

This time, Ying Feng didn’t stop him. Ling Xiao used the secondary card that Ying Feng had given him to pay in the cafeteria. The balance was considerably higher than the previous day. He wasn’t good at math, so he struggled to figure out how much extra was added, which seemed more complex than simply doubling the allowance.

“Hey, you’re back.” The cafeteria worker greeted cheerfully upon seeing him. “Going for the most expensive meal again?”

Ling Xiao smiled embarrassedly. “Just the nutritious meal, please.”

“You look much better than yesterday,” the worker remarked. “Yesterday you looked as if you hadn’t eaten in days. If you don’t nourish yourself well during your growth period, you might not grow tall.”

Ling Xiao thanked him for his concern and found a spot to enjoy his meal.

……

Back in the dorm, Ying Feng alone opened the first book he borrowed, flipping directly to the chapter he was interested in, reading it carefully.

—The fluid of a Qizhu, based on the Qizhu’s intentions or the needs of the Qizi, has varying effects on the Qizi, with each fluid having a specific function.

Below are examples:

—Blood: Enhances combat power, provides nutrients, invigorates, and can delay death in critical situations, mainly for strengthening.

—Saliva: Calms pain, detoxifies, hypnotizes, numbs, and can mildly alleviate negative emotions of the Qizi, mainly for suppression.

—Semen: Causes hallucinogenic effects, unusual excitement, similar to how drugs affect other races, easily addictive.

Ying Feng recalled the events of the previous night, confirming that he had no intention of seducing Ling Xiao at all, because he didn’t even know that blood had such an effect.

According to the book, the triggering conditions were one, the thoughts of the Qizhu, and two, the needs of the Qizi. This meant that Ling Xiao’s reaction was actually caused by the subconscious needs of the body.

If this guess was correct, then the rumors from the logistics staff weren’t rumors, but facts. The combination was the best way to safely pass the danger period, but what was the reason?

Setting aside this doubt for the moment, he turned to the next chapter of concern, which was an explanation of mental damage:

—If the negative emotions triggered by hormones are not fully appeased during the disorder/danger period, these negative emotions will linger in the subconscious of the Qizi, causing lifelong mental damage.

—Mental injuries can be categorized as mild, moderate, or severe, corresponding to the time the Qizi can live independently from the Qizhu. A mentally fully developed Qizi will not be affected even if separated from the Qizhu, but a mildly mentally damaged Qizi will gradually develop symptoms such as anxiety, restlessness, and insomnia after leaving the Qizhu for a month. As time goes on, the symptoms will gradually deepen until they reach the level of danger.

—The separation period that can be accepted for moderate severity is about half of the mild, and those with severe mental injuries cannot leave their own Qizhu for even one day. Otherwise, they will not be able to sleep normally and can only rely on drugs for sleep.

Ying Feng’s brows became more and more furrowed, and by the last line, he simply closed the book and set off to find Yao Tai.

When Ling Xiao finished eating and came out, he happened to see Ying Feng passing by. He looked so solemn that he didn’t even notice himself not far away, which aroused Ling Xiao’s curiosity. Without being noticed, he secretly followed and came to the medical building with Ying Feng.

When Yao Tai saw Ying Feng, the first thing she thought of was a problem with Ling Xiao, “What happened to Ling Xiao again?”

“He’s much better than yesterday.” But Ying Feng wanted to talk about something else. “You said he had mild mental damage. Does this mean the two must live together forever? As long as they are separated, will the Qizi’s mind have problems?”

“What kind of answer do you want to hear?” Yao Tai countered. “Didn’t you disdain it the first time I told you? In theory, yes. But in practice, no pair of Qizhu and Qizi live separately. All spouses live together, and the so-called separation is only temporary, such as going out to fight. Unless you join the military in the future and fight on alien planets, then you need to consider having a mentally damaged Qizi at home.”

“Is this damage really impossible to heal?” Ying Feng pressed.

“It’s impossible to heal, but it’s easy to get worse. If you neglect it like before, it’s only a matter of time before it develops into a moderate or even more serious level. Now you have no other way, you can only control it.” Yao Tai paused. “You should be grateful that Ling Xiao doesn’t know about this yet. His danger period is not over. To keep in a good mood, you must not stimulate his emotions. After this period is stable, you can slowly tell him the truth.”

Ling Xiao, hiding outside and hearing every word between the two clearly, covered his mouth tightly. He originally thought that as long as he gritted his teeth and persevered for a few years, he could fly freely. It wasn’t until this moment that he realized how wishful his thinking was. Invisible shackles had already chained him, yet he naively believed freedom would come.

He couldn’t hear what the two inside were saying anymore, and he left in a daze, coming to a place that haunted his memories. Lan Sheng jumped down here, and from that day, Ping Zong left them forever. It seemed that from that moment, the luck of his life had come to an end.

He lost his best friend, freedom, dignity, everything. He had nothing left.

He sat where Lan Sheng had once jumped, looking at the scenery he had seen. The ground was so distant, yet the clouds were within reach.

Never before had Ling Xiao felt so defeated—he had sworn to become a Qizhu but ended up someone else’s Qizi; he thought he could make it through the tumultuous period with effort, but in the end relied on Ying Feng’s power; he once thought he could live strong alone, but even this right was taken away. He would have to live his life attached to another person, and only death could bring true relief.

“Lan Sheng,” he muttered to himself. “We promised to see each other again, but I didn’t want our meeting place to be the disease control center. I’ve always insisted on waiting for you outside, but if I have to rely on the mercy of others just to survive, is such persistence really worth it?”

“Do you know, even after what happened last night, I initiated it. I have lost face my whole life, and in front of him, I have none left to lose. When he’s cruel to me, I feel it’s brutal. When he’s good to me, I feel it’s charity. No matter what he does, I can’t face him. I used to have the motivation to leave, but now even that is gone.”

“Lan Sheng, if you and Ping Zong were still here, would you encourage me to go on? Or to give up?”

Sadly, neither Lan Sheng nor Ping Zong could answer.

“Ling Xiao!” A voice roared with anger. Ling Xiao turned around to see a familiar scene. It must have been the same view Lan Sheng saw when he stood there, except that Ping Zong would no longer appear at the door, and their roles had been reversed.

Ling Xiao saw the expressions on Ying Feng and Yao Tai’s faces and knew they had misunderstood. Not wanting them to think he was giving up on life, he pushed off the wall, intending to jump back over it. However, his hand slipped, and he accidentally fell.

Is this a joke? I wasn’t planning to die.

His body lost its balance. Ying Feng’s face disappeared bit by bit behind the wall. Ling Xiao could clearly see the shock in Ying Feng’s eyes. So, even Ying Feng could make such an expression.

Ling Xiao wondered, ‘Would Ying Feng feel even a little sad if I died?’

Suddenly, a force gripped him, stopping his fall. Looking up, he saw Ying Feng dangling in mid-air, one hand on the wall and the other clutching the corner of his sleeve. Despite Ying Feng’s strength, he couldn’t pull him up with just that grip. Ling Xiao felt himself slipping.

Ling Xiao hadn’t expected Ying Feng to try to save him. Actually, upon reflection, Ying Feng had always been good to him: buying him bread, comforting him during tough nights, taking him to escape during danger, and facing death alone—all because they were classmates, not because he was a Qizi.

Why couldn’t they just be classmates?

Due to exertion, Ying Feng’s hand started shaking uncontrollably. Ling Xiao wanted to help, but as he tried to raise his free hand, it froze. He remembered Lan Sheng, who was once gripped by Ying Feng in the same manner and chose to pull out a dagger to cut his own sleeve and fall. He suddenly understood why Ying Feng restricted his movements: had Ping Zong been able to control Lan Sheng, he wouldn’t have cut his sleeve, and Ping Zong wouldn’t have died.

However, in that moment, Ling Xiao felt utter despair. Whether to hold onto Ying Feng or to pull out the dagger, whether to live or die, was not his decision. From the moment the Kui appeared, his fate was sealed. It was his delusion to prolong his life, but now he had to pay the price.

What he truly desired deep down was freedom. All past stubbornness suddenly became meaningless, and his attachment to life disappeared. He hoped in the next life, whether as a Qizhu or Qizi, he would find a mutual love.

Lan Sheng, it’s a pity I can’t fulfill our promise.

Ping Zong, I wonder if I’ll get a chance to sleep beside you in the base.

Ying Feng, what I’m most grateful for are the words that never left my lips, forever remaining in my heart.

With no distractions, Ling Xiao closed his eyes, calmly facing the end of his life.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Full Server First Kill Ch61

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 61: Two Stories

Everyone had entered the dark tower, leaving only the two Players outside.

Nol didn’t invite them to follow, nor did he close the door at this point. The black tower stood amidst a sea of corpses and blood, and the surrounding silence was terrifying. The fog silently rolled, licking across scattered flesh and bones, and the nearby wind seemed to be heated by the corpses. Anakin shivered and reluctantly moved towards the tower.

After all, Nol had explicitly said that they needed to witness until the end.

To be honest, Anakin couldn’t understand what Nol’s situation was.

Her and Solo’s actions had nothing to do with their own thoughts. It was purely motivated by the dangling quest “carrot” that was in front of them. Nol was different; his actions contained a bit more sincerity, but compared to pure sincerity, he seemed to be completing some kind of mission.

What kind of past did such an NPC have?

“That Nol must not be of ordinary origin. His feelings for Queen Hyacinth are unusual. Maybe Hyacinth was his teacher or something,” Solo said with lingering fear.

He thought assisting in protecting the tribe would require a grand battle, but now it seemed like it was almost like winning by laying down. This “free ride” with blood splattering everywhere made people feel uneasy deep down.

Anakin didn’t respond. The two of them stepped into the darkened door for the first time. Like breaking through a layer of black fog, their vision flickered for a moment, nearly blinded by the suddenly overflowing light.

The situation inside the tower was completely different from what they had thought.

The interior of the black tower seemed even more spacious than the outside, with a dozen circular floors built against the inner walls of the black tower. Even ignoring the huge holes in the center of these ring layers, each floor had an area of four or five football fields.

In the center of the black tower stood a square, spiral staircase built of wood. At every turning platform, a cross bridge would protrude, connecting to the nearest floor.

The exterior of this tower clearly had a spire. The sky at the Dream Edge was a hazy blue-purple, but inside, the top of the tower was connected to a piece of blue sky.

The brilliant sunlight made the inside of the tower incredibly bright. Soft vines hung down from the third floor with clusters of purple flowers blooming. Dense mist swayed on the fourth floor, casting shadows of rocks. The waterfall on the fifth floor gushed down into a pool, splashing silver-white water. Higher up, Anakin saw protruding giant tree branches.

Each floor of the tower had a “scene” that seemed somewhat different. Only the first floor—the floor they were on—was orderly. The floor was covered with large chessboard-style tiles. Load-bearing stone columns were decorated with potted plants and soft armchairs, and gargoyle-shaped wall lamps burned quietly.

Thousands of succubi were tightly squeezed into a corner of the first floor, occupying less than a quarter of the space. Perhaps because the environment here was too good, their panic had nowhere to be placed. Many people couldn’t help but look up, fascinated by the sky at the top of the tower. Even more people didn’t dare to make a sound, looking from afar at the figure lying in the sunlight—

The reigning queen lay asleep under the sun, her light golden hair shining dazzlingly in the sunlight. The succubus, wearing an old man t-shirt, stood by the queen. At the moment, she was tilting her head back, opening her mouth to this magnificent sight.

“We have brought the queen back.” Nol’s gaze accurately locked on to Succubus Doni. “So from now on, Teest is your crown prince.”

Teest stood on the other side with his arms crossed while tapping them with his fingertips. His daydreaming was blatant as he walked.

Succubus Doni looked at the queen and then at Nol, the fear in her eyes deepening.

When giving up his memories, he had pleaded for them to save their tribe… Had he made his wish to completely wrong entities?

These two had done so many inconceivable and absurd things, but they indeed conformed to the “heir selection” rules, he thought in a daze.

Teest hadn’t deliberately harmed any succubi, only stopped their counterattacks. Although Nol’s methods were rough, they didn’t cause substantial harm. He just transferred them all inside the tower.

Then, they brought back the queen, even the missing Knight Malvina.

“…Yes, the process is without problems.” After a while, Succubus Doni squeezed out an answer.

Behind him, the succubi huddled even tighter.

“Should I wait for this woman to die on her own, or should I put on the ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ and ascend the throne now?” Teest seemed to have regained his senses.

Doni bit his lip. “As long as the time ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ is taken off doesn’t exceed ten minutes, the ‘Dream Dominion’ sheltering here will be fine. I suggest…”

Teest ignored him. He directly took off the queen’s earrings and threw one to Nol, who was beside him. Ma Zhigang, who was next to her, was about to have an outburst, but Teest had already placed the A Midsummer Night’s Dream crown on his head.

Anakin and Solo, who were watching, weren’t spared either. The necklace was thrown onto Anakin’s face, and Solo quickly reached out to catch it—

Soft light engulfed the sight of several people, and Nol closed his eyes first, taking a deep breath.

‘This is a dream,’ Nol thought.

Like the dreams people often have, it was just a moment in reality but felt incredibly long.

The dream left by Succubus Queen Hyacinth. The answer he was seeking was here.

[A beautiful boy and girl fell in love. Decoste often came to the Dream Edge to visit Hyacinth.]

[“It’s always so peaceful here. I really want to live a lifetime.” He lay on the grassy hill full of tiny flowers, with his hands cushioned behind his head.]

[“Then live a lifetime,” Hyacinth said with a smile.]

…This was originally a small conversation arranged by the production team.

But in the dream left by Queen Hyacinth, the environment was the same, the protagonist was the same, but the lines were worlds apart.

“You said bodies are lost at the Dream Edge?” The boy lay on the grassy hill, eyes wide in surprise. “Has this never happened before?”

Hyacinth sighed. “I’m afraid someone has invaded the Dream Edge.”

“What would they want with stealing bodies? It’s so strange.” Decoste frowned.

……

[The boy grew into a young man, but his lover still looked the same as a girl. Interlocking ten fingers became difficult, so he covered her hand with his palm. ‘It’s okay,’ Decoste thought. They still have a long time. Hyacinth was his destined one. Love could break through all difficulties.]

[“Now I’m a whole head taller than you!” He laughed, comparing his height to Hyacinth’s. “If I lower my head to look at you, will you cut it off, Your Majesty?”]

[“You’re about to become a formal businessman yet you’re still so informal.” Hyacinth laughed.]

In the dream, Decoste was wearing the same set of clothes and looked solemn.

“The Eternal Church wants to trade succubus bodies through me, claiming it’s for ‘collection needs’.”

Young Decoste pressed his soft hat to his chest, his tone worried. “They urgently need a large number of bodies. I guess they will not wait for the succubus to die naturally.”

Hyacinth nodded. “The magic that protects the lair should be upgraded, and I will also pay attention to the tribe members who have contact with humans.”

Decoste kissed her brow. “Don’t work too hard, Your Majesty. I will help you with all my heart and soul.”

……

[As Decoste stepped into middle age, specks of silver appeared at his temples. Due to some indescribable emotions, he could no longer hold his lover’s hand as freely as before, allowing her instead to link arms with him.]

[Would he receive love or pity from her as he grows old? Decoste began to fear “standing beside Hyacinth”. She sensed this, and concern filled her eyes. They no longer talk about the future.]

[“I’m so reluctant to leave you,” Decoste said. “I always calculate the opportunities we have left to meet. Hiya, why are the gods so cruel?”

“If you detest me, please tell me,” Decoste said. “Your eyes break my heart. I dare not look into them.”

He was obsessed and repeated this over and over. The sweet innocence of his youth had turned into bitterness and anxiety.]

[“A brave man has found fresh forget-me-nots.”

One day, Hyacinth brought two beautiful flowers still covered with fresh dew. “Decoste, dreams don’t lie.”]

Across from Hyacinth, Decoste looked frighteningly thin.

His eyes were bloodshot, and his hair was sparse and gray. He looked as despairing as a corpse sunk in a swamp.

“Hiya, I cannot sleep.”

Decoste’s emaciated face twitched. “The Eternal Temple knows about our relationship. They found me again, saying there is a way for us to grow old together.”

Decoste’s voice was like sandpaper rubbing.

“They can transfer the power of monster corpses to humans. A girl with only half her body can restore it using the healing ability of a monster’s… I know, they just want to get succubus corpses from me.”

“But I always wonder—should I give them the corpses of succubi from other tribes? Or give them the succubi who committed capital crimes instead? Just once, just once, and we don’t have to be separated by time.”

“Every time I see you, I think of this. Every time I leave you, I still think of this. The path is right there, Hiya… The path is right there.”

Hyacinth listened quietly.

“Even if I become a monster, I want to stay by your side. But I don’t want to disappoint you…”

Decoste gently caressed his lover’s face. His thin hand was a stark contrast against her skin that was as white as jade. “My Queen, can you make this pain stop?”

Hyacinth closes her eyes. She gave her lover a hug. She hugged him for a long time, as if it was a farewell.

At the end of the hug, she extended her hand. In her palm lay two wrinkled purple buds.

“A brave succubus has found fresh forget-me-nots.”

She said, “Decoste, dreams don’t lie.”

……

[For the ruler of the succubus, traversing through dreams was a piece of cake.]

​[In the deepest dreams, the lovers met in the cabin where they first met. Wildflowers were all around the cabin, and the roof was covered with dark green rose vines. The clear lake reflected the blue sky, white clouds, and the aged Decoste.]

​[His back was hunched, and his robust body shriveled like a deflated pod. He had lost all his teeth, and sparse white hair stuck tightly to his scalp. Beneath the stacked, dry skin, a pair of murky eyes could vaguely be seen.]

[Opposite him stood a familiar yet unfamiliar old lady.]

[Her back was also hunched. Her lips enveloped bare gums, and the remaining strands of hair were styled into a silver-white bun. Her purplish-blue eyes seemed to have faded, turning into a misty gray. ​]

[They stood face to face, like any ordinary old people in this world. The sun was shining all around, birds were singing, and someone started to laugh. They looked at each other’s aged faces, laughing louder and louder, until they were out of breath and coughing.]

​[So it turns out that this was their deepest desire—to be at the same place, with the same person, at the same time.]

[“Quickly remember my appearance, so you won’t be curious later.” Hyacinth’s voice was old and hoarse.]

[“Compared to this appearance, I’m still very handsome now.” Decoste opened his toothless mouth.]

[The two of them laughed and played as if everything had returned to the best of times.]

[“There’s something I should have told you a long time ago,” Hyacinth said. “Deco, meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me in this life.”]

For the ruler of the succubus, traversing through dreams was a piece of cake.

The cabin where they first met was right in front of them. The wind was warm and filled with the fragrance of roses. The aged Hyacinth wobbled towards the small house, where her lover, who had been waiting for her for decades, was nearby.

Decoste was standing in front of the cabin, just like the day they first met. He was an almost perfect young man.

His back was straight, his muscles were beautifully sculpted, and his lips were as bright as petals. He had beautiful curly golden hair, and his honey-colored eyes were incredibly clear.

Hyacinth stopped in front of Decoste, subconsciously touching her sparse white hair on her head. They stood face to face, one as beautiful as an angel and the other as old as Death.

Young Decoste stood still, tears incessantly rolling down his eyes.

“I’m sorry!” he cried out loud. “I can’t forget the temptation of that road. I can’t forget… I don’t want to leave you. I can’t deceive my true heart…”

He hadn’t betrayed her yet, and his love wasn’t a lie. It was just that the balance in his heart eventually leaned slightly toward darkness.

…In the end, they no longer looked in the same direction.

The beautiful young man, even crying, was unbearably moving. Decoste cried until he couldn’t breathe. He knelt in front of his aged lover, tears splashing on the green leaves.

The aged Hiya bent down and hugged her sobbing lover. She held him sorrowfully and calmly until he stopped crying.

“Let’s part, Decoste,” she said.

The young man with red eyes: “Part? How is that possible? I will find a way. There will always be a way…”

“No.”

Hyacinth patted his back and spoke in a gentle tone, as if telling a bedtime story to a real child.

“I’ll tell you a secret. Humans always have an illusion that love is a problem that needs an answer… To prove that they are right, some even have to endure painful choices.”

“You can’t possibly be the wrong choice,” Decoste choked.

“The problem distinguishes ‘right’ or ‘wrong,'” Hyacinth said softly. “To us, people just happen to walk together. It’s just that sometimes one of them walks fast or slow, or stops, and has to part. The journey that belongs to us both has ended. That’s all.”

She stroked her lover’s sunlit golden hair. “Decoste, you are the smartest person I have ever met. You understand, don’t you?”

Their relationship had become a festering wound, held tight by the Eternal Church.

Decoste’s heart was already wavering. If he didn’t amputate to survive in time, what awaited him would only be more temptations or threats, until Decoste compromised.

“There’s something I should have told you a long time ago.” Hyacinth kissed the top of his head, slowly letting go of her embrace. “Deco, meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me in this life.”

Decoste didn’t respond for a long, long time.

“I heard from the traders that the Eternal Church specifically brought back the Demon King’s corruption from Desolation Island. I suspect they want to artificially create the Demon King’s minions as a kind of weapon—to fight against the succubi.”

When he spoke again, his face still had tear stains, and his voice was hoarse and solemn. “This is just my guess. But they have been lingering near the Black Forest recently, and sightings of monsters keep emerging. The succubus populations nearby have sharply decreased… If you are willing to believe me, please start defending as soon as possible.”

The elderly Hyacinth smiled.

She extended her hands, and “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” appeared in her palms.

[“We should really thank the person who brought the bewilderment grass,” Decoste said.]

[“I plan to give ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ to that person,” Hyacinth said with a smile. “Your gem, my craftsmanship. Our names will be mentioned together, and in this way, they will be passed down.”]

[“It’s a good idea, my romantic queen.” Decoste laughed.]

[From then on, the two of them lived happily together.]

“I have completed the new magic to protect the lair.” Hyacinth looked at the “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” in her hand. “It can perfectly seal the Dream Edge and then use ‘Dream within a Dream’ to completely hide the lair.”

“There’s only one problem. The caster needs to wear this jewelry for a long time. You know, it has an enhancing effect on the power of the succubus.”

Decoste was stunned.

“No!” He seemed to have realized something, and his voice became sharp. “Wearing this, you will no longer have normal emotional exchanges! You’re a succubus. What’s the difference between this and chronic suicide?!”

“Power always comes with a price.” Hyacinth sighed lightly. “I am the ruler of our tribe, and I must ensure the survival of everyone… The next ruler and the ruler after that, I believe, will make the same choice.”

“This might be the last time we see each other.”

With her old, ugly face, she gave him a smile like a young girl.

……

Nol stood like a bodiless ghost, positioned between the two apparitions, watching these images with despair.

He understood everything. Why the two would part ways, why Hyacinth could preemptively defend, why Queen Hyacinth chose to commit suicide years later. Her fate was sealed from this moment. She walked towards destruction with clear awareness.

Don’t you feel the pain? Don’t you regret it… Don’t you hate?

“Don’t you hate?” Decoste muttered dispiritedly. “Why particularly us—”

“What are you talking about?” Hyacinth patted his head. “This is a good ending.”

“…A good ending?”

“We parted ways by our own will, not because someone sabotaged us, nor due to disappointment, boredom, or betrayal. We just had to say goodbye at the crossroad,” Hyacinth said. “I have had a very, very wonderful journey. What about you?”

Decoste’s lips parted slightly. It seemed he had countless words ready to pour out. After several deep breaths, he moved his lips gently and uttered a short sentence.

“Me too,” he said. “Goodbye, Hyacinth.”

“Goodbye, Decoste.”

The illusion of the bewilderment grass shattered, and Nol saw Decoste quietly leaving and saw Hyacinth standing atop the grassy hill for a long time.

His mind went blank, and even his breathing stopped.

“This is what I wanted to explain, my successor.” Suddenly, it seemed like Hyacinth saw him and turned towards the void.

Her smile was still beautiful.

“Sorry, I had my own selfishness in there. I just wanted to explain that Decoste had nothing to do with those bad things. He didn’t betray in the end—I know people have been talking behind his back.”

“If you see this message, it means we’re still trapped by the tricks of the Eternal Church. Killing the succubi won’t yield more bodies. They will turn everyone into livestock. You ‘re the future ruler. Don’t give up. Don’t surrender.”

She gently looked in Nol’s direction, her gaze especially resolute.

“Next, here’s a bit of advice from experience. At first, you might find the effects of ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ bearable, even beautiful. You have power. You are willing to do anything for everyone.”

“But as time passes, you will find yourself a shell carrying all sorts of expectations. No one will see the real you. Reality is just a void constantly consuming you.”

“You will start to doubt, question whether everything is worth it, think the responsibility is too painful, and even want to abandon yourself…”

“My dear friend, it’s okay to be afraid. It’s okay to want to escape. This is a path leading to darkness, not because you are weak nor because you did something wrong.”

Through centuries, she bowed deeply to her unknown successor.

“Even if the magic is successfully maintained, the situation will only get more severe. I’m sorry. This is the best solution I could think of—the tribe must survive, even if it’s painful. At least, being alive means there’s a chance for change.”

“My strength is limited. I can’t go too far. But regardless of the outcome, I had a good life.” Her voice was gentle and relieved. “I have only one piece of advice. Try not to walk alone.”

“May your journey lead to light.”


Kinky Thoughts:

Parting is always such sweet sorrow.

Ah… It’s chapters like these that make me fall in love with Nian Zhong’s work.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Full Server First Kill Ch60

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 60: Puppy’s Funeral

The tower’s tentacles were so thick they resembled cathedral bell towers, emitting a faint flesh-pink through the utter darkness. Their surfaces emanated a soft glow similar to human skin. They crashed heavily to the ground, scattering leaves and dust in all directions.

The robust trees bow down gently, like wheat stalks in the wind.

Shadow Wolf Ben, originally watching the excitement nearby, was now bristling all its fur. It jumped into Teest’s shadow with its butt still sticking out. After several kicks, it managed to wedge itself in.

In Teest’s ear, the soft jingle of coins hitting the ground had disappeared. He watched the colossal creature before him, and the smile disappeared from his face for a moment.

“Stronghold ‘Lost Tower’.” He rolled the words around on his tongue.

Initially, Nol told the couple that he would give them an “excellent stronghold”. Teest thought it would be some hidden cave, a vast underground relic, or even—a wicked thought crosses his mind—a naïve fairy-tale fortress similar to Nol.

What was before him resembled a “monster” more than a “stronghold”.

Teest had never heard of such a thing in the Black Forest. It was too tall and too bizarre. Adventurers exploring the Black Forest couldn’t have missed it.

The ground rumbled, but Nol stood still. The high tower was moving slowly behind him. The heavy tentacles almost brushed against the back of Nol’s head, but he didn’t even dodge.

“What you see now is the safest stronghold in the world,” Nol introduced with a smile.

The Lost Tower.

The only system guild base in “Tahe World”.

Initially, most Players would rent houses in the towns. When various guilds flourish, “Tahe” would offer some distinctive system bases for large guilds to choose from.

A walking tower, a floating library, a town submerged underwater, a tomb filled with luminescent mushrooms… Everyone excitedly planned for a long time.

To ensure compatibility with subsequent updates, the development team decided to create a sample case to observe possible bugs or loopholes.

Unlike other facilities, the Lost Tower wasn’t designed “for Players to discover”—

As undisclosed content, it was hidden in the code by the system. Only certified internal personnel could summon it through specific commands.

However, there was no such thing as “subsequent updates” in this world. Under the system’s shielding, the Lost Tower had wandered in the Black Forest for more than two hundred years, following its program settings.

Before, Nol never thought of using it as a weapon. He had to admit, this world had given him too many inspirations about “destruction”—

Although the Lost Tower was just a prototype, its design had no deficiencies and possessed all the functionalities a stronghold should have.

For instance, obeying a specific master.

Nol raised his magic staff, and bizarre, chaotic characters rose from the flames. The test key used by the development team was reproduced verbatim by him and flew towards the advancing giant tower.

Compared to the giant black tower, these characters seemed like dust in the sunlight. But the moment the first character touched the tower door, the giant tower stopped, as if an invisible wall had appeared before it.

It calmed down and gently lay on the ground.

The patterns on the heavy stone door lit up one by one, slowly opening with a soft green light. The vertical tower body, the writhing tentacles, and the thinner ends intertwined below the gate, weaving into a strange staircase.

Meanwhile, a small blue light appeared in the center of the stone door. It lightly flew to Nol and formed a small black key.

Nol strung the key together with the wedding ring on his chest. He stepped on the stairs, causing the tentacle skin to depress as if flesh had been stepped on.

Nol seems unaffected. He reached out to Teest with a gesture, like inviting him to dance.

“Alright, let’s go,” he said.

By now, Teest certainly knew what Nol planned to do.

He intended to get all the succubi into this impregnable tower, then would command the giant tower to go meet the queen. Even if they encountered the Demon King’s minions, this giant tower would forcibly carve out a bloody path. Thanks to Teest, the queen would surely stay far away—not honestly scared into scurrying around by this thing.

They were about to complete this heir selection with great fanfare.

Nol once said he wanted to destroy more things. Admittedly, he really excelled at “destruction”. Teest really liked this bloody plan, but he didn’t like Nol’s expression right now.

At this moment, Nol looked very calm—not the kind of resolute and steady calm, but the kind of dullness that came with semi-resignation.

Teest grabbed Nol’s hand and stepped on the tentacle steps. This thing felt no different from human flesh underfoot. Teest was barefoot and could feel the subtle temperature of the tentacles beneath his feet.

“How do you plan to convince the succubi to enter the tower?” Teest asked seemingly casually.

Objectively speaking, this tower was quite frightening, much like the kind of weird forbidden land from which there was no return.

“I will invite them in,” Nol said. “If they are unwilling, we have the ability to forcibly bring them in—once you rightfully become the crown prince, we can get ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’.”

Teest raised his eyebrows. “What about the part of ‘saving the succubi tribe’?”

“I will cure the queen, send the succubi to a safer place, and they can figure out the way forward.” Nol spoke slowly. “Breaking through the monster encirclement is probably enough to meet the ‘saving’ standard… We’ll see how it goes then.”

“Hahaha!” Teest suddenly burst into laughter.

A slight crack finally appeared on Nol’s somewhat numb expression. “Did I say something funny?”

“Sorry, honey. You just resemble a little boy I’ve seen—when you heard about Queen Hyacinth’s suicide, your expression was exactly the same as when he heard news of his puppy’s death.”

“Just now, you were like him right after attending the puppy’s funeral,” he said gleefully. “His parents bought him two more puppies, and he just turned his head away, with an ‘I will never care about puppies again’ look.”

“It’s unexpected. I thought you were the type to give love recklessly. It turns out you are also afraid of the ‘bad ending’ after investing emotions.”

“You can’t say that. Before his ‘bad ending’, at least he and his puppy will have beautiful memories,” Nol responded quietly, letting go of Teest’s hand.

This world had hardly given him any positive feedback.

The novice village was destroyed without anyone knowing, the secret room in Whitebird City was full of skeletons, the Night of the Hunt dungeon trapped hundreds of innocents, the succubi living in the open world were tortured by hunger, not to mention his compatriots… In more remote corners, only more diverse pains were waiting for him.

Seeing the plight of the succubi, Nol found his feelings becoming more and more dull. Yes, your situation is miserable, and I will help you.

That was it.

Properly giving up on empathy could avoid a considerable part of the pain.

Currently, the only thing he couldn’t give up was the truth about “Hyacinth and Decoste” from those years. He must get that jewelry set to see what message Queen Hyacinth had left.

He didn’t know what he was looking for in an established tragedy. Maybe he just needed… to cut off the last illusion.

Nol was the first to step into the dark gate of the black tower. His figure disappeared in the darkness.

…..

Those alien Demon King’s minions were running in the mist. No, to be more accurate, they were fleeing.

Large tentacles rose and fell. Under absolute weight, all spirits and dreams were crushed into powder. The monsters emitted vague and sharp cries while their weird arms were crushed into bone and flesh paste, mixed with fallen leaves on the ground. Black blood splattered everywhere, faintly visible under the light purple mist.

The smell of blood in the forest was so strong that it was suffocating.

Nol was sitting on the steps at the entrance of the black tower, overlooking the crushed monsters.

Numerous twisted palms stretch out between the tentacles, all grabbing towards Nol, who was closest, trying to tear something off. The owner of one arm was almost successful. Its hand was about to touch the corner of Nol’s robe when it was crushed by two thick tentacles.

The earth trembled as the giant tower moved forward. Behind it, a long and wide trail of black bloodstains was dragged, like God casually drawing on this land.

Anakin and Solo were hiding behind a tentacle, silently watching everything.

Half a day ago.

At that time, Anakin still had some beautiful fantasies. 

Look, the Mad Monk and that Nol want to rescue the succubi! This is a positive phenomenon. They are still on the side of “justice”.

Then she saw the monster-like black tower rumbling over.

At that time, Solo immediately grabbed Anakin, and the two climbed to a high place, just about ready to flee.

Just kidding with assisting in this rescue quest. To face such a thing, they would die immediately!

The succubus lair was wrapped in a forest and looked like a city without walls and no suburban edges from the outside. The largest building in the center housed the royal court, surrounded by clusters of small settlements.

From a high place, the lair looked like cream decoration hugging a strawberry.

The succubi had no idea what kind of monster was coming. They summoned men, women, old and young, surrounding this “decoration”, desperately erecting magical defenses. However, those protective arrays shattered like thin sugar sheets. The black tower casually stopped in front of the royal court without slowing down.

Nol, holding his staff, walked down the steps formed by crossed tentacles.

This time, the Mad Monk didn’t walk with him. That person was sitting at the top of the steps, looking down at Nol’s back. He had one leg raised while his palm supported his cheek, pondering something.

“I will take you to meet the queen, and then I will take you away from here.” Nol stopped in front of the crowd, his voice sounding like a sigh. “If you want to survive, follow me.”

Anakin on the platform choked a bit. How can someone make helping sound so much like a threat?

Solo opened his mouth wide, fascinated by the solemn tower in front of him.

For this soft and dreamy environment, it was too dark and hard. But it… it really was too cool. Where did that NPC get it? It’s simply a moving fortress!

‘This guy must be a mainline NPC,’ he thought. ‘The covenant was worth signing.’

Below, the “NPC event” continued.

“I still hope you two can bring the queen back.” Succubus Doni bowed slightly, watching the towering black tower with extreme caution. “Your request is somewhat sudden. We may not be able to comply—as you see, most succubi are very weak. It’s unsuitable for them to leave their residence.”

Nol looks at Doni almost tiredly.

Anakin can feel Nol’s abundant and stable magical power, but he was indeed emitting a strong sense of fatigue—his state was like a flickering ember.

“So you don’t want to leave,” Nol concluded. “I understand.”

“Thank you for your understandi…”

“I should make a touching speech, reason with you, and try to win your trust. Then, after your thousands of people discuss back and forth for who knows how long, wait for an uncertain result.”

Nol interrupted Doni with a somewhat scary, mild tone. “But that requires too many people to communicate. It takes too long, and I’m too tired.”

Saying that, he tapped the ground with the end of his staff.

What followed was like a nightmare.

Countless tentacles shot out. They quickly wrap up the nearest succubus and shove them straight into the tower. The monster-like tentacles twisted and turned as the succubi scattered and flee, but in front of those tentacles, they were weak like mice stared at by pythons.

Every time an attack spell was directed at Nol, it was always interrupted by a conveniently placed golden thread. If what was coming were arrows or poison needles, they were directly knocked down by the Mad Monk’s magic.

There was only one kind of magic the Mad Monk ignored.

Enchantment spells hit Nol like rain, but Nol had no reaction. Amidst the chaos, the cries and calls for help from the succubi were coming one after another. In the sharp screams, there was a moment when Nol seemed to want to turn his head to look in the direction of Teest.

In the end, he just stood there, with a bit more sorrow on his face.

Anakin didn’t know how to describe the scene in front of her… The young man she once thought was kind and gentle was now manipulating this race like playing with toys. The exquisite and beautiful succubus lair was like a playhouse in front of him.

Friends and family were taken away, and the resistance of the succubi was getting weaker and weaker. In the blink of an eye, most of the succubi have been stuffed into the towering black tower.

Some succubi ran faster and hid themselves in the hidden corners of the lair. But the black-haired magician seemed to be able to see souls. With a point of the burning blue fire staff, the tentacles dragged them out accurately from their hiding places.

Even sleeping children were gently wrapped by the tentacles and sent deep into the black tower. In just one short hour, the succubus lair had become a completely empty city.

After all this, Nol lifted his head and looked in the direction where the two Players were hiding. The tentacles of the black tower were gently dancing behind him.

Anakin clenched her teeth and grabbed Solo, revealing themselves voluntarily.

…However, they didn’t dare to enter the tower. They could only watch as the dark tower rolled in a certain direction like a bulldozer. Just as Anakin’s sense of smell was about to be numbed by the smell of blood, the dark tower finally slowed down its speed.

They saw the Mad Monk stepping on tentacles and easily jumping up, holding two emaciated figures in his hands—one with a drooping head, unconscious. The other one was cursing, unexpectedly wearing an old man’s shirt.

Nol moved the corners of his mouth slightly and turned to walk towards the gate. The Mad Monk carried the two, humming a tune and following behind, with the succubus’s tail swaying lightly.

It seemed he noticed the gazes of the two Players. He slowed down a bit and showed a smile to the two who were peeking.

[It’s still a long way from the end,] he silently mouthed.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Escape From the Asylum Ch41

Author: 木尺素 / Mu Chisu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 41

In the narrow and gloomy environment, even the oxygen seemed to be gradually disappearing. As Zhou Qian felt difficulty in breathing, an overwhelming intent to kill suddenly attacked him head-on.

Just in the nick of time, Zhou Qian pinched a pill between his fingers and said to the person in front of him, “Dalang, it’s medicine time.”

Hearing this, Jiang Yuqing’s actions were abruptly halted. Then, with a blank expression, he took the pill from Zhou Qian’s palm and swallowed it.

Instantly, Jiang Yuqing was immobilized in his place. Zhou Qian then took out two things from his bag: one was the celadon bottle given to him by Jiang Yuqing in the photo illusion; the other was the box of osmanthus cake he had taken from the receptionist.

Upon opening the box, only one piece of osmanthus cake was left.

Zhou Qian stared at it for a while, then opened the celadon bottle and sprinkled its contents over the cake. A blood-red powder swiftly covered the cake, seeped into its surface, and then vanished.

The agitated, irrational Jiang Yuqing could always be pacified by osmanthus cake. Probably because every time Bei He made him angry in the past, he would placate him with osmanthus cake.

Jiang Yuqing originally didn’t like sweets, but because of Bei He, he grew fond of osmanthus cakes. To this day, even if he slowly forgot everything else, the fact that osmanthus cake pacified his anger seemed to have become an instinct.

So, just when the effects of the paralyzing pill were about to wear off, Jiang Yuqing was about to attack Zhou Qian. But upon seeing the osmanthus cake offered by Zhou Qian, all his restlessness and murderous intent were immediately soothed.

Jiang Yuqing then took the cake from Zhou Qian and lovingly started to eat it.

Little by little, slowly, he ate the osmanthus cake with a look of delight on his face. Blood then seeped from the corner of his mouth, and he collapsed.

Jiang Yuqing was the master of the consciousness world. He could become immensely powerful and create countless deadly weapons or scenarios, such as the 12 gunmen in “Checks and Balance” or the vast S Army in “West Pier”.

No one could kill him in this world except himself.

The poison in the celadon bottle was a creation of his own, capable of ending his life.

In this instance, all player skills would be ineffective against the aged Jiang Yuqing. Only the poison he created could end his life.

That was the solution. The challenge for the player was to find the poison through the photo illusion and then coax Jiang Yuqing into consuming it under such perilous circumstances.

Notably, observing the transformation from [Irritable Jiang Yuqing] to [Jiang Yuqing with Dementia] using osmanthus cake and managing to save a piece of [Wang’s Osmanthus Cake] was the key to passing this level.

Before the aged body hit the ground, Zhou Qian stepped forward to catch him. Then, Zhou Qian half-squatted and let Jiang Yuqing lie in his arms.

With his last breath, Jiang Yuqing opened his eyes in Zhou Qian’s embrace, and at that moment, his cloudy eyes regained clarity.

The elderly Jiang Yuqing in the consciousness world symbolized disease, representing its embodiment.

Now that the embodiment was dead, the disease was gone, and this narrow conscious space would no longer shrink and consume everything. Bei He managed to survive here. And countless versions of young, middle-aged… Jiang Yuqing from different times overlapped at this moment.

The ground shook violently.

This conscious space was about to collapse completely with the approach of death.

In the final moment, Jiang Yuqing lay in Zhou Qian’s arms, holding his hand. His eyes were clear and his smile bright, just like when he was young.

“Bei He… You didn’t lie to me. You really came to pick me up. Thank you.”

“Thank you for taking me away before the disease and old age could kill me, just as I was starting to remember everything, and just before the disease wanted me to forget it all again.”

“Now I die with my memories intact.”

“Thank you. I have no regrets.”

[Jiang Yuqing passed away by Bei He’s side. “Night Rain Addressed to the North” Completion: 100%.]

[Player Zhou Qian achieved the ultimate hidden achievement. Rewards will be redeemed after the end credits plays…]

……

The ground trembled endlessly as countless rocks rained down. The surroundings began to spin, distort, separate, and crumble, and then everything fell into silence.

Zhou Qian opened his eyes and found himself wearing a special device on his head, dressed in a blue uniform, sitting in some workspace.

Beside him on a hospital bed, an old man had closed his eyes forever. A nurse came over to cover him with a white cloth and pushed him away from the room that was almost submerged in countless flowers and gifts.

In the corridor outside the room, many people were holding obituary banners. As they approached, wiping their tears, most of the banners read “In Memory of Dr. Jiang” and so on.

Zhou Qian touched his forehead, and a doctor walked up to him, extending one hand. “Thank you. Your task is now complete. You can leave.”

Zhou Qian noticed the badge on his clothes, which read: [Past Times Nursing Home, Memory Department, Director Li Huai.]

Zhou Qian asked him, “So, my consciousness, under external influence, entered the world of Jiang Yuqing’s consciousness. In his world, I transformed into Bei He. So the Bei He in his consciousness isn’t a figment of his imagination. In a way…”

“Yes. In a way, Jiang Yuqing died next to Bei He. In the last moments of his life, he finally lived for himself. In his eyes, Bei He came to take him to the underworld. He passed away peacefully and contentedly. Thank you.”

The display on his watch lit up with a message:

[Player Zhou Qian’s Rank: D → B]

[HP: 2000 → 8000]

[MP: 2000 → 8000]

[Skill Points: 200]

[Unlock “Rib of God” Feature: Cultivate Bone Spirits; Bone Spirits can become a powerful ally in the future.]

After closing the system panel, Zhou Qian was escorted by Dr. Li Huai to the entrance of the nursing home.

Outside, the sun was shining brilliantly with flowers in full bloom. Just by stepping out there, Zhou Qian could return to his real world. But before that, Dr. Li handed him an item: an empty bottle.

The last hidden achievement reward was a matchbox, whose purpose remains unknown. This time, the hidden reward was equally mysterious.

Receiving the empty bottle from Dr. Li, Zhou Qian asked, “It’s empty?”

Li Huai shook his head. “It’s full.”

Zhou Qian: “?”

Li Huai: “It contains air.”

Zhou Qian: “…”

Li Huai, with a mysterious tone, said, “God said, ‘Let there be air to separate the waters’, and thus the world had [air].”

Zhou Qian narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the man before him. Tall and stern, with a somewhat icy demeanor, he wore a mask that obscured his face; only his eyes were bright and inscrutable.

“The way you said that…” Zhou Qian raised an eyebrow. “Reminds me of Epoh. Do you know him? This kind of miraculous nursing home, perhaps, isn’t a technology that should exist in this world?”

The doctor named Li Huai didn’t answer but turned away. Then, the surroundings started to fade, except for two treasure chests that fell down, which Zhou Qian caught. One was a regular reward, the other was for an ultimate achievement.

Before the nursing home disappeared completely, Zhou Qian finally left the hall and stepped into the sunlight. The next moment, he opened his eyes and found himself back in Zone 1 of Spring Hill Mental Asylum.

At that moment, Zhou Qian received another notification.

[Player Zhou Qian, please wait for your gambler’s evaluation; your gambler can award you a title based on your performance.]

[Unfortunately, due to the unexpected death of your gambler, you have temporarily not received a title or evaluation.]

His gambler was dead?

Zhou Qian frowned, took out the phone from the bedside table, looked up some information, and tried to make a call. However, realizing it was already midnight, he withdrew his hand.

……

In Room 302, inside the shower room, Qi Liuxing had just finished showering. Hearing some noise outside and guessing that Zhou Qian had returned, he hurriedly dried himself and put on some clothes.

When Qi Liuxing returned to the ward, he saw Zhou Qian pouring himself a glass of water. Zhou Qian then sat on the bed, engrossed on his phone.

Qi Liuxing ran over, clearly worried and eager to ask Zhou Qian something, like if he had encountered any danger. But at the last moment, he restrained himself and walked over calmly, whispering, “Ah, you’re back.”

Zhou Qian lifted his eyes and glanced at him, unceremoniously saying, “You’re trying too hard with that act.”

Qi Liuxing: “…”

“There’s no need for that, Xiao Qi. Act your age. You trying to seem all mature makes you look out of place!” Zhou Qian yawned, continuing to look at his phone.

Unable to resist, Qi Liuxing approached him and asked, “What are you reading?”

Zhou Qian: “The Old Testament*.”

*Consists of many distinct books by various authors produced over a period of centuries. There are 39 books common to essentially all Christian canons.

Qi Liuxing: “What happened during that instance? Are you becoming religious?”

“Of course not.” Zhou Qian asked Qi Liuxing, “Do you remember the [Seed of Fire] we got from the last instance?”

Qi Liuxing sat back on his bed. “I remember. Why?”

“God said let there be light, and there was light. He separated the waters and created the air,” Zhou Qian said. “I visited two instances with hidden achievements and obtained the Seed of Fire that brings light and air… I vaguely remembered hearing something similar somewhere, so I searched online.”

“So you found the Old Testament?” Qi Liuxing asked.

“Yes,” Zhou Qian nodded. “It records the story of Jehovah creating the world in seven days. In five days, He created light, air, land, stars, and animals. On the sixth day, He created man. On the seventh day, He rested.”

“So… if we collect all the hidden achievements in the instances, we could acquire seven treasures related to creation?” Qi Liuxing pondered, looking thoughtful.

“Exactly,” Zhou Qian confirmed.

“But what does this mean? Can we, like God, create a world?” Qi Liuxing wondered aloud. “If it’s about creation, it can’t be in reality. So maybe we can create a world inside the game?”

Zhou Qian mused, “I’m not sure. Whether it’s Eastern or Western mythology… stories about ancient creation and creator deities have similarities. So…”

Seeing Zhou Qian hesitate, Qi Liuxing hesitantly asked, “Do you think there’s really a God in this world?”

Zhou Qian looked surprised. “Don’t you see ghosts? I thought you weren’t a materialist.”

“I’ve told you, it’s not a ghost. I don’t know… I don’t know what my brother really is. But he’s not a ghost.”

Qi Liuxing confidently nodded, then, looking mature beyond his years, said, “As for the existence of God, I can’t say.”

Zhou Qian added, “The term ‘God’ is just a title. From a scientific standpoint, it’s entirely possible that extraterrestrial beings visited Earth in ancient times, sharing technology with humans. Their appearance and power made humans consider them ‘gods’.”

“That sounds like something out of a sci-fi novel,” Qi Liuxing scoffed.

“People always say this game is related to God, right? Whether or not He exists, we’ll know as we progress. I’m genuinely curious about what will happen when I become a Rank S player,” Zhou Qian said. “At this rate, I should reach Rank S after the next instance.”

Hearing this, Qi Liuxing couldn’t help but exclaim, “You’re progressing so fast! I’m still at Rank B. But I…”

He seemed saddened by something, but his sadness soon turned to admiration.

Zhou Qian glanced at him, seemingly having an idea. “Oh, didn’t you want to find members for the ‘Sword and Heart’ group? I found someone for you—”

He was cut off by Qi Liuxing.

He said, “Zhou Qian, I want to introduce you to someone! He’s an excellent teammate I met recently. His weapon is a flute! We decided to form the ‘Sword and Heart’ combo!”

After a brief pause, Zhou Qian sincerely replied, “As long as you’re happy.”

……

The next morning, as soon as Zhou Qian woke up, he contacted someone—Chen Yangzhou.

Chen Yangzhou was the police officer investigating his parents’ death and was also the one Zhou Qian asked to help investigate Bai Zhou’s body.

Zhou Qian had clear objectives this time: first, inquire about Bai Zhou’s skeletal remains; second, ask if someone named Yu Xian died and how he died; third, check if someone named Gao Shan died.

Moreover, as the game encompassed more, it would stand to reason that more people would die in reality. Had these incidents caught the police’s attention?

Elsewhere, outside a hospital emergency room, Yun Xiangrong sat quietly on a bench, her face pale under the hospital lights. A man in white, resembling a doctor, approached and handed her a black note.

Yun Xiangrong looked up and saw the words “Pass” written on it. At the bottom right, there was a bright red peach blossom.

“What’s this?” Yun Xiangrong looked up into the face of a refined-looking man.

“A pass. I think you might want to join the Peach Blossom Legion, right?” The man smiled. “Hello, my name is Priest.”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Qizi Ch41

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 41

When Yin Feng woke up the next morning, Ling Xiao was in a deep sleep. He probably hadn’t had such a good sleep in a long time, so much so that even Yin Feng getting out of bed didn’t disturb him.

Without waking Ling Xiao, Yin Feng left the dormitory on his own. Following the address he had inquired about, he arrived at a cold weapon shop. Although the Tianyuan Network had many high-tech weapons, daggers had always been a personal weapon for everyone. Even in today’s industrial modernization, the dagger manufacturing industry still maintained the traditional hand craftsmanship.

When Yin Feng entered the shop, the shop owner, who was working at his desk, didn’t even look up. Hearing a customer enter, he asked, “How can I help you?”

Yin Feng walked over and saw him carefully grinding the blade of a dagger. “My previous dagger broke. I want a new one.”

The shopkeeper looked up, examined Yin Feng’s eyes, and said, “How hard did you hit something to break a dagger? I see you’re an adult. Did you bring the dagger of your Qizi with you?”

“It’s his that broke.”

“Did you bring yours?”

Yin Feng didn’t understand why he had to bring one. “Is there a connection between the two?”

“It’s not mandatory. If you didn’t bring it, I can only give you a general style, the kind that fledglings use.”

“What’s the difference between a fledgling and an adult dagger?”

The shop owner simply took out two standard daggers, joined them handle to handle, and with a twist, the two daggers combined into one weapon that could attack from both ends.

“See? All fledgling daggers can combine like this.” He twisted his wrist, demonstrating a flurry of moves, attacking from any angle. “But adults like to have some personal engraving on their daggers. So only the daggers of Qizhu and Qizi can be combined.”

It was the first time Yin Feng heard that daggers had this function, so he drew his own and gave it to the shop owner.

“Some engrave initials of both parties, some the date of the binding, and others carve badges or totems. What would you like to engrave?”

Yin Feng thought for a moment. “Kui.”

“That 3S rare creature, Kui? That’s an unusual request.”

The shop owner designed the pattern, engraved it while chatting with Yin Feng.

“Do you know, with the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction and unparalleled regional strikes, why does everyone still equip such an ancient cold weapon?”

“Why?”

“One reason is that the Tianxiu people move and dodge extremely fast. Weapons that require aiming slow us down. Standing still makes one an easy target.”

“As for the second reason, a long time ago, daggers were essential tools for assassins, not to kill others but to kill oneself. Committing suicide in critical moments prevents falling into enemy hands and betraying the employer’s information.”

“You’re saying we were once assassins?”

The shop owner smiled. “It’s hard to say. But it’s certain that many outsiders are curious about our genetic composition. They want to capture a Tianxiu person alive and study our physiology.”

“They want to extract our eyes to see how we can view things in strong light and darkness; dissect our bodies to find out why we are immune to diseases, and to understand why we can regenerate vital organs as long as our head and heart are intact.”

“But the reason they’ve failed for thousands of years is that no Tianxiu would allow themselves to be captured alive, understand?” He gestured with the dagger’s tip towards his chest. “In a critical moment, one stab ends life. The soul returns automatically, leaving no corpse.”

“So, this is the real reason daggers exist. No matter how many centuries pass, the result remains the same.”

While talking, he finished the engravings. Two daggers, one engraved with a relief and one with an intaglio, fitting seamlessly together.

After ensuring there were no issues, the shop owner destroyed the pattern. “Now your and your Qizi’s daggers are unique. No one can use this pattern again. If lost, both must be remade together, not just one.”

After thanking the shop owner, Yin Feng, with the two processed daggers, headed to the previously decided second stop.

Books were the second ancient item of this era that hadn’t been replaced. It was rumored that the Tianxiu ancestors possessed supreme wisdom, and their collection of books was unmatched in the galaxy. The works they authored were translated into various languages and widely circulated. Even with countless book alternatives today, physical books were still the primary source of knowledge. It wasn’t a step back in civilization but a tribute to the predecessors.

Ying Feng, who always had minimal interaction with others, preferred to obtain information in this manner. The social science shelves of the library were uncharted territories for him. Only a few theoretical books were left neglected on the top shelves, while the rest were popular books with colorful covers, like “100 Questions for the Qizhu and Qizi after Marriage”, “Searching for the Lost Soul—Diving into the Inner World of the Qizi”, and the like.

Ying Feng looked upwards, scanning the top shelf. A thick, conspicuous book caught his attention titled “A History of the Tianxiu Marriage System”. As he reached out for it, he paused just before touching the spine. He remembered that, during his previous visits to the library, he had to tiptoe slightly to reach books on the top shelf. But now… he looked down at his feet, which were firmly on the ground.

Ying Feng took down the book, and the first chapter in the table of contents was about the origin of the Qizi. However, when he turned to that page, he found that all relevant pages had been cleanly cut out, with not a single page left.

Confused, he put the book back and opened another on a similar topic, only to find the same thing. It seemed someone had deliberately destroyed this section, not wanting others to know the true origins of the Qizi.

Setting aside his doubts for a moment, Ying Feng picked two unrelated theoretical books. This time, the pages inside were intact, detailing psychological studies on partnerships. As he prepared to leave with his selected books, his gaze inadvertently landed on a bestseller titled “Comforting and Caring for Your Qizi during Their Vulnerable Period”. After hesitating for a moment, Ying Feng finally reached out for it.

At the same time, another hand reached out, aiming for a book right next to Ying Feng’s target. Due to their close proximity, their hands nearly touched. Both turned their heads instinctively, and upon seeing each other, one frowned while the other was taken aback, accidentally dropping the books they were holding.

Ying Feng hadn’t seen this person since their cold exchange in the cafeteria. The person, Zhu Yue, always seemed skittish around others, but today it was more pronounced. Ying Feng noticed this and looked at the scattered books: “Tianxiu Marriage Law”, “Rights of the Qizhu”, “About the Qizi”… all books about spouse relationships, none seemed relevant to the current Zhu Yue.

Zhu Yue hadn’t expected to run into Ying Feng here. The latter’s piercing gaze made Zhu Yue feel like his deepest secrets were exposed. In a fluster, he gathered the books and left without a word. For someone who used to chase after Ying Feng at every chance, this behavior was unusual. Ying Feng analyzed the situation but couldn’t figure out Zhu Yue’s intentions. Eventually, he just checked out the books he had selected.

Zhu Yue hurriedly returned to his dorm, his heart still racing. Once inside, he carefully moved his pillow and mattress, revealing a hidden compartment he had constructed. Underneath the bed slats was the soul-binding stone.

Ever since he hid the stone there, he had the same strange dream every night. At first, it was vague, but it became clearer over time. While he didn’t understand the dream’s meaning, a bold idea began to form. Suddenly, frantic knocking interrupted his thoughts. Startled, Zhu Yue quickly hid the compartment and ensured no abnormalities were visible. Opening the door, he found the instructor, the Director of Discipline, and even two military officers. Panic gripped Zhu Yue.

“Hello, student. Due to suspicions of dangerous items being brought into the dormitory, we need to inspect every room to ensure everyone’s safety. We hope for your cooperation.”

Zhu Yue swallowed, fully aware that there were no ‘dangerous items’. They were after the soul-binding stone. Without an excuse to refuse, he stepped aside, praying they wouldn’t discover his secret. After a thorough inspection and finding nothing, one of the officers glanced at the bed. Zhu Yue’s heart nearly stopped, but luckily the man merely gave it a cursory look. The two officers exchanged a glance and shook their heads, signaling they had found nothing of concern.

“Excuse us.” They left Zhu Yue’s room and knocked on the door of the adjacent dormitory.

Ying Feng had just entered the room. When he returned, Ling Xiao had already awakened but remained in bed. The moment Ying Feng walked in, Ling Xiao’s relaxation turned into alertness. The pillow he had been holding was clutched tighter, serving as a shield. Ying Feng could almost see the hair on Ling Xiao’s back standing on end.

In fact, facing Ling Xiao again wasn’t easy for Ying Feng. The last time they were in the mine, neither of them were in a clear state of mind, with Ling Xiao being nearly unconscious. However, yesterday, they were fully conscious. A sudden intimacy between two distant individuals created an awkward tension neither was prepared for.

Just as the awkwardness spread, a knock on the door broke the standoff. It was the same group of people with the same agenda. Ying Feng immediately thought of the soul-binding stone the instructor mentioned that day. He hadn’t realized that such a simple stone was so crucial that the military would personally come to search for it.

He stepped aside to let them in, and Ling Xiao quickly got up from the bed.

Seeing this, the instructor felt relieved. A real honeymoon should be spent with two people cozying up in bed.

The military personnel searched every corner of the dormitory, naturally not overlooking the box that Ling Xiao was so nervous about. The moment Ling Xiao saw them touching his box, he lunged at it and clung onto it, refusing to let go.

Their actions aroused suspicion among everyone. “We need to check its contents.”

“There’s nothing you are looking for inside.” Ling Xiao vehemently refused. “This is my personal possession, and I won’t allow it to be checked.”

“We have a search warrant,” one of them said, and another immediately showed the document. “We have the right to check every item in this dormitory building.”

“No!” Ling Xiao held onto the box even tighter. “I won’t let you see it!”

The two exchanged glances and took a step forward, seeming intent on forcibly taking the box.

“Wait!”

“Stop!”

Two voices called out simultaneously: one from the instructor and the other from the silent Ying Feng.

The instructor tried to mediate. “Ling Xiao, they just want to take a look. They won’t take your stuff. Just let them see.”

“I won’t!” Ling Xiao’s refusal was blunt. “To open this box, you’d have to kill me first!”

“This…” Even the instructor was puzzled by his intense reaction.

“I know what you’re looking for.” Ying Feng’s voice came from the other side of the room. “And I can assure you it’s not inside.”

All eyes turned to him.

“Ling Xiao and I were rescued by the military from that incident, and afterward, we underwent full-body checks at the military medical station. If we had taken anything, it would have been discovered then, and there’s no way we could have smuggled it back secretly.”

“That’s right,” the instructor recalled. “I personally escorted them out of the mine. I can vouch that they did not have the soul-binding stone with them. And if you doubt me, you can confirm with Major General Fu Yao, who was present at the time.”

The two military men were skeptical, their gaze still fixed on the box in Ling Xiao’s embrace.

“It contains our personal belongings.” Ying Feng knew they wouldn’t let up without a valid reason. “You know what kind of items they are.”

The people present were taken aback. We don’t know, do we?

Ying Feng hesitated, then added, “We’ve recently come of age and have just gained access to the adult section of the network.”

Understanding dawned on everyone. Every young adult secretly yearned for the adult section of the Tianyuan Network. Many of them, once of age, eagerly explored it. The adult section offered a variety of exotic items for sale, and out of curiosity, many purchased them to try. If this was the reason, then Ling Xiao’s actions were understandable.

The instructor’s eyes gleamed mischievously, amused that the two seemingly reluctant partners were so adventurous. The Director, however, looked stern.

“As adult students, such behaviors can be understood, but most around you are still minors. Please keep your personal items well, so they don’t have a negative impact.”

Ying Feng replied expressionlessly, “We will.”

With his head bowed, Ling Xiao seemed on the verge of crushing the box. To the onlookers, it looked like mere embarrassment.

The military personnel accepted this reasoning, largely due to the instructor’s assurance. “We will confirm with Major General Fu Yao. We apologize for any rudeness earlier.”

Ying Feng nodded, seeing the group out.

When he turned back around, Ling Xiao’s box had disappeared again. Ying Feng knew that what he had said earlier might have embarrassed Ling Xiao. But since Ling Xiao never refuted, it suggested that whatever was inside the box would embarrass him even more than an adult toy if exposed. Thus, Ying Feng grew even more curious about its contents.

“Aren’t you going to let me have a look?”

Ling Xiao’s attitude was different from usual. He neither refused nor agreed.

His eyes flickered uncertainly, and in the end, he gave a noncommittal answer.

“If I ever die, then you can open it and take a look.”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Sendoff Ch124

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 124: A Difficult Problem

Shi Jingzhi clutched Yin Ci’s hand tightly, curling up on the bed.

If those terrifying speculations were true, then past oddities now made sense—like Yin Ci’s initial state of “no desire”, his “blindness” upon returning to Huilian Mountain, and that sinister lamp formed of skulls and arms.

And then there was the incident twenty-four years ago in Juyi Valley. Why did someone as powerful as Yin Ci fall into a state of possession, and why was he so sensitive to “betrayal”?

Shi Jingzhi deeply understood the pain of confinement. But at least in his prison, he had a yard of a certain size and a huge tree in the backyard that showcased the changing seasons. The emperor allowed him to read and practice internal martial arts for health. He wasn’t completely isolated or left in the dark. Still, over two decades of this soft imprisonment left a void in his heart.

The time Yin Ci was trapped under the Northwest Great Prohibition was definitely longer than just twenty years.

A book lay quietly beside them, emanating a faint scent of ink.

Shi Jingzhi wouldn’t believe everything in this old tome right from the start. However, the absurdities mentioned in this book, he had encountered their real-life answers—

The trading of military merit for individuals wasn’t straightforward. Yin Ci, as a general, would occasionally separate from Sun Wang for battles. The timing and circumstances of each campaign had to be meticulously adjusted. Such manipulation required the involvement of the imperial court, cleaning up inconsistencies year by year.

…And he had indeed seen obscure books with traces of alterations. The time before the changes coincided precisely with Yin Ci’s memories.

According to Sun Wang’s records, a ritual involved sealing a body in a stone coffin filled with fire and overflowing mercury. The Northwest Great Prohibition was placed above, constantly draining Yin Ci’s strength. Being buried this deeply, Yin Ci should’ve had no chance of escape.

…The Hua family ancestor once infiltrated the team building the seal and stole some mercury to sell during the “Awakening Ceremony”. If that mercury was extracted from the coffin, it wasn’t surprising that a gap was left in the coffin.

And it was this tiny gap that gave the person inside the coffin a glimmer of hope. The reason the Northwestern Great Prohibition still functioned might be due to Yin Ci’s remnants—the coffin was made from the hardest muyan stone. With no known earthquakes or human interference, and Yin Ci devoid of any inner force, Shi Jingzhi could only assume he used his body to resist.

Considering this, the diminishing efficacy of the Northwest Great Prohibition might be due to the loss of Yin Ci, its source of energy, with the remnants underground gradually depleting.

…Everything matched up.

Human’s plans couldn’t outsmart fate. Even after three hundred years, the shadow of a true tragedy still lingered. It was a pity that Yin Ci’s achievements were wiped out, and no one delved deeper into his disappearance.

According to the records, Sun Wang didn’t know about Yin Ci’s immortality. He believed his dear friend from the past turned against him, considered a threat based on unfounded suspicions and was sacrificed. Had he known Yin Ci was alive, General Sun wouldn’t have been so desolate and wouldn’t have retired.

The next events were hard to explain. Given Sun Wang’s personality, he wouldn’t have taken credit for Yin Ci’s achievements nor bowed to the palace in exhaustion.

The disappearance of He Cheng’an was also mysterious. How did he learn of Yin Ci’s immortality, and how did he manage to exploit it while keeping it a secret? The Northwest Great Prohibition did indeed protect the people, but what was He Cheng’an’s ultimate goal? Where did he go?

The mystery of immortality and long-term plans eventually pointed back to He Cheng’an. Shi Jingzhi felt a buzzing in his head and buried his face into Yin Ci’s long hair, inhaling its scent sorrowfully.

“A’Ci.” He turned to the sleeping Yin Ci. “It’s so hard.”

Naturally, Yin Ci didn’t respond.

Drawing closer, Shi Jingzhi felt the warmth of Yin Ci’s body. All the pain and suffering he had endured in his life turned into pity at that moment. He hugged the man in his arms, like he was grasping a lifeline in a raging river, but afraid to grip too tightly lest he drag both of them down.

Such feelings surged deep within him, indescribable in their intensity.

“From your state earlier, it seems you’ve separated delusions from memories,” Shi Jingzhi shifted, propping himself up to face Yin Ci. “The suffering A’Ci endured, just by imagining it, I can hardly bear it. If you go crazy like this, would it be a kind of relief…? Do you think I will say that?”

Yin Ci’s eyelashes quivered slightly.

“I’m the product of that old bastard He Cheng’an. I naturally don’t know how to ‘let go’.”

With a surge of emotion, Shi Jingzhi playfully bit Yin Ci’s nose tip.

“You clearly promised me we’d watch the lanterns together and even talked about proposing. Now, before anything has even started between us, you want to flee? Are the events from 300 years ago more alluring than your master?”

Sect Master Shi said this with growing grievance. After a moment, he took a deep breath and mumbled ambiguously, “No, this won’t do.”

Ignoring the mysterious He Cheng’an, his own blood carried that of Xu Li and Sun Wang. If he were to act carelessly and Yin Ci saw him as a gift-wrapped enemy, he might actually flee.

Thinking about this, Shi Jingzhi grew increasingly melancholic. He quickly tied his robe’s corner to Yin Ci’s. Then, he cleared his throat and said affectionately, “The schemes of He Cheng’an have lasted for hundreds of years. Together, we can solve the mystery… Haa, it still feels wrong. A’Ci, what should I do with you?”

Yin Ci’s eyelids twitched.

Sect Master Shi probably didn’t realize that Yin Ci had clearly heard his entire rehearsal.

Shi Jingzhi pressed several acupoints on Yin Ci, which would keep him unconscious. But today was different from the past; with this little brat around, even if he wanted to plunge into madness, there were countless ties holding him back.

[Though I may not be able to promise you much time… whatever you are, I will watch over you till the end.]

Without any clarity on Shi Jingzhi’s fate, this “end” seemed… useless.

Darkness prevailed—not more, not less. Moths might be consumed by flames, but in endless darkness, all one needed was a glimmer of light to find their way.

Yin Ci’s scattered will began to converge, the sounds from the outside world slowly returned, waiting for Shi Jingzhi to release his acupoints. Instead, that fox started rehearsing dialogues again, treating Yin Ci as if he were fragile sugar candy that would crumble upon touch.

Listening to Shi Jingzhi transition from being cute to affectionate, from righteousness to sweet talk, it was uncharacteristic of the Sect Master of the Kushan Sect to be so tongue-tied. He became increasingly incoherent, even humming in the end.

All these worries and troubles, all because of love.

Eventually, Shi Jingzhi’s voice became hoarse, and he grew tired. Flipping through some pages, he finally leaned half of his body onto Yin Ci, his voice becoming slightly dreamy.

“I don’t know what to say.” Shi Jingzhi murmured in near despair. “I’m still afraid—afraid I’ll die this year, afraid you’ll leave me. This situation is complicated. I can’t promise anything, but…”

Shi Jingzhi didn’t finish his sentence and buried his face into Yin Ci’s collar. After a long sigh, he whispered.

“Yin Zizhu*, I will never betray you.”

*Clarity: This is a title given to Yin Ci. Often times, the Emperor would award titles for their meritorious deeds.

When he heard this, Yin Ci was momentarily taken aback.

Titles were more respectable than names, and his title was given to him by Emperor Xu Li himself. Although Yin Ci was the youngest, the other three always addressed him by this title out of respect. However, given subsequent events, this “respect” was rather ironic.

Three hundred years.

For over three hundred years, this name disappeared from books and rumors. Connected to endless battles and betrayals that even Yin Ci considered it a part of his “delusions” and cast it aside.

…And yet, Shi Jingzhi bravely brought it back, placing it right back into his heart. In an instant, memories found their place, resonating silently.

Yin Ci could no longer wait for him to release the acupoints and forcefully broke free. He stretched out his arms, tightly holding the person in his embrace. Shi Jingzhi shivered, then exerted all his strength, as if wanting to merge with the person in front of him.

“Saying this is enough,” Yin Ci whispered. “It’s more than enough.”

The Fallen God Tower was eerily silent, while the Taiheng Sect was bustling with noise.

Qu Duanyun hadn’t yet returned to his sect when news from Taiheng reached the horse station. The gray pigeon delivering the message didn’t escape Shi Zhongyu’s notice. She left the bandit village early, as usual, to intercept Taiheng’s news.

The news this time surprised her so much she almost hurt the pigeon.

[The “Shirou” has appeared. Sect Master, return immediately.]

“Since Qu Duanyun is undoubtedly from the Immortal Assembly, do you still want to get involved?”

After being publicly injured by Shi Jingzhi, Shen Zhu pretended to fall out with him and returned to the village early. She quickly sold the inside story of the Chigou chaos to Shi Zhongyu and made a small profit.

With Shi Zhongyu, she could keep track of Taiheng’s movements, so she wouldn’t miss this opportunity. However, Shen Zhu was puzzled—Shi Zhongyu, a renegade, even if she knew the news, couldn’t possibly influence the mighty Taiheng.

What was she busy with? Was it really for some elusive “greater good”?

“Master Qi’s death is linked to Qu Duanyun. Initially, when Jin Lan and the others were inexplicably attacked, it was probably the Immortal Assembly pressuring me.” Shi Zhongyu folded the message back and released the trembling gray pigeon.

“Hmm—so what? Sister, you don’t seem like the kind of person who’s driven by emotions and grudges. Are you planning on seeking revenge?” Shen Zhu hummed thoughtfully, her eyes darting around.

Shi Zhongyu was taken aback for a moment, then sighed softly. “Duanyun grew up before my eyes. He’s not inherently evil. Rather than seeking revenge, I want to know the reason behind his actions. If it’s for fame and profit, he already has all his needs met and was set to be the head of Taiheng. If it was out of malicious intent, he’s not like Wu Huai, who abused his power after obtaining it.”

Seeing that Shi Zhongyu was about to start with her moral reasoning, Shen Zhu’s interest waned. Before she could show her disdain, Shi Zhongyu added calmly, “…So once I have the answer, I’ll decide whether to spare his life or not.” She looked determined, despite her disheveled bandit appearance.

Shen Zhu immediately perked up, her voice turning sweeter. “Do you have a plan, Sister?”

“Yes. If Duanyun wants to play by ‘rules’, I’ll fight him using his own methods. Miss Shen, please deliver a message for me. I need to meet with Sect Master Shi.”

“Piece of cake. What are you planning, Sister?”

“Although the martial world can’t affect the imperial court, the major sects are preoccupied with their own troubles, allowing Taiheng to monopolize power. The ‘Shirou’ chaos has not yet been resolved, and now is an excellent opportunity.”

Shi Zhongyu wiped her face and touched the Yang Reversal Token on her chest.

“The martial world despises monopolies. Given the current chaos, it’s time to choose a leader for the martial world.”


Kinky Thoughts:

For those confused so far, part of the conspiracy has been revealed. About 300 years ago, before the establishment of Great Yun, three leaders rose: Li Xu (the first emperor of Great Yun), He Cheng’an (the Imperial Preceptor), and Sun Wang (the great general).

Due to the war during that era, Yin Ci, an orphan, escaped into Great Yun and eventually became a great general, guiding Great Yun into battle and successfully reuniting and stabilizing the country.

However, after the country stabilized, misfortune started to fall. He Cheng’an, for reasons not yet revealed, advised that Yin Ci needed to be sacrificed in order to stop the calamities from befalling Great Yun. Yin Ci was fed immortal wine which drained him of his inner force.

Yin Ci was then sent, unknowingly, to be sacrificed, except this sacrifice came at the cost of him being beheaded thousands of times in order for them to gather his headless corpse to use as material for spells. The stronger the body, the stronger the spell.

After collecting enough of Yin Ci’s corpses, He Cheng’an buried Yin Ci under the Northwest Great Prohibition in a stone coffin made of muyan stone (the hardest known material in this world), covered by an array of mercury.

He was supposed to lie beneath the Northwest Great Prohibition in order to feed power into the seal. However, Hua Jingchun’s ancestor stole a bit of mercury from the coffin during the building process, allowing a small gap to appear in the coffin. This small gap eventually allowed Yin Ci to break out of his tomb (by breaking his arms over and over again and using his bones to carve a hole into the coffin, which took almost 80 years).

With Yin Ci’s escape, the Northwest Great Prohibition is now showing signs of weakening (as observed by Qu Duanyun). It has been powered all this time by the remnants of Yin Ci’s body parts that he used to escape, but now that power source is almost depleted.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Sendoff Ch123

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 123: Bone Sweeping

Before the half-stick of incense burned out, they were at the Fallen God Tower. Shi Jingzhi’s mood seemed quite good.

Hua Jingchun wasn’t one to gain weight by breaking her promises. As soon as the Chigou Sect settled down, she summoned someone to fetch the clay statue. She cleverly didn’t ask about the matter of “Su Zhi” being resurrected from death. She only mentioned that Wu Huai was on the run and that the chaos in Chigou wasn’t over, asking the Kushan Sect to be more cautious.

She changed back into the attire of a Protector. The injury on her broken leg was still oozing with the smell of blood. Wu Huai had been pulled down from the position of Patriarch of Chigou, but Hua Jingchun didn’t seem too thrilled about it.

“Don’t you want to see more of Su Zhi?” Shi Jingzhi leisurely sipped tea as he waited for the clay statue to arrive.

“Patriarch Su helped us get rid of Wu Huai, which was a pleasant surprise. If it’s true, given the chaos in Chigou, we shouldn’t bother the spirit of Patriarch Su. If he’s a fake, Sect Master Shi surely has a plan… We have a family rule: if you want to live long in this tomb-robbing business, don’t be too curious.”

Hua Jingchun took a sip of tea; her expression was complex, though the initial hostility was gone.

“Even though the Shirou was what Matron Wuxue sought, Taiheng is leading by a mile now. Our Divine Sect’s momentum is gone; it’s better to focus on our foundation.”

At this moment, the servant who fetched the clay statue entered.

The clay statue was about the height of an arm and seemed to depict the Imperial Celestial. Unlike the flesh statue from Yuanxian Village, this clay figure was misshapen and incredibly crude, obviously the work of a novice. The paint on the statue was mottled and faded, looking extremely worn out without any aesthetic value.

It was placed on a dark red brocade, held up by a wooden tray, contrasting sharply with the luxurious surroundings. Judging by its appearance, it seemed more suited for a village market.

…It was too ordinary; perhaps what the Immortal Assembly was looking for wasn’t this.

Despite his thoughts, Shi Jingzhi still put down his teacup and took a closer look. The statue smelled normal, not fishy. Its surface was rough, without any mysterious patterns, and nothing special embedded. Sect Master Shi examined it thoroughly, almost putting a price tag on it.

“Just put it on the table for now.” After all the scrutiny, Sect Master Shi didn’t find anything suspicious and decided to inspect it later.

He wasn’t currently wearing his Nuo mask, so his face was indeed distracting. The clay statue wasn’t a valuable item, and the servant holding it was so captivated by Shi Jingzhi’s face that he almost dropped the statue.

A faint friction sound came from inside the statue. Shi Jingzhi immediately widened his eyes and reached out instinctively to touch the statue. The servant, already nervous, saw the elegant guest reaching out and stepped back.

If he hadn’t moved so abruptly, the statue wouldn’t have fallen and smashed on the ground.

With a crisp “crack”, the statue broke into pieces, and dozens of small stone balls rolled out. Amid the fragments, a wrinkled booklet appeared.

Everyone in the room was stunned.

Shi Jingzhi had only heard that Buddhas and clay statues usually held valuable items. However, these stone balls on the floor weren’t precious gems but seemed more like children’s toys. Just as he was about to pick up the booklet, Yin Ci walked in.

Seeing the mess, Sect Master Shi felt a little embarrassed and hurriedly tried to explain. “A’Ci, look at this clay statue…”

He stopped mid-sentence as he noticed something unusual.

Usually, when Yin Ci entered, his gaze would first fall on him. That gaze always made Shi Jingzhi feel pleasant from head to toe. However, this time, Yin Ci picked up a stone ball, and his eyes were filled with a terrifying emptiness.

Just like when they first became master and disciple.

Holding the stone ball tightly, Yin Ci murmured a name. The voice was so soft and indistinct that Shi Jingzhi couldn’t hear it clearly, but he instinctively felt something was wrong.

Sect Master Shi hastily stuffed the booklet into his chest and rushed to Yin Ci’s side. “A’Ci?”

Yin Ci seemed not to hear him and didn’t respond. He just reached out a hand and slowly grabbed Shi Jingzhi’s wrist with an overwhelming force. His hand was chillingly cold, and a suffocating pressure rose.

He was clearly not in a normal state.

Shi Jingzhi frowned. Yin Ci’s reaction wasn’t like a curse or poisoning, but more like he was possessed.

Fortunately, despite being in this state, Yin Ci showed no signs of hostility towards Shi Jingzhi. Gritting his teeth, Shi Jingzhi quickly pressed several acupoints, knocking Yin Ci unconscious. Without even looking at the broken statue, he lifted the unconscious Yin Ci. “Protector Hua, may I use one of your guest rooms?”

The Fallen God Tower was a place for guests, so there were plenty of rooms. Hua Jingchun prepared a particularly quiet one for them. “Does Sect Master Shi need any medicine?”

Without raising his head, Shi Jingzhi responded tersely, “I’ll take care of him. Ask everyone to leave.”

When the room was empty, Shi Jingzhi took off Yin Ci’s Nuo mask. Then, he dug out the stone ball from Yin Ci’s palm. The stone ball had ground through the flesh of Yin Ci’s palm, leaving it bloody.

Shi Jingzhi didn’t call the other members of the Kushan Sect, but instead sent Hua Jingchun away, cleaning the blood from Yin Ci’s hand himself.

“You were once lost in your own mind, yet never looked like this. You wanted to protect me, yet now you’re the one in danger.”

He moistened a warm cloth and gently wiped Yin Ci’s face. Yin Ci’s unconsciousness wasn’t of his own doing, and Sect Master Shi didn’t dare act rashly given Yin Ci’s abnormal state.

For ordinary people losing control, he could still keep them in check. But Yin Ci was too powerful. If he went berserk, the Chigou Sect might be destroyed before Wu Huai could do it.

Not to mention, with many outsiders present, there was no way they would easily surrender. If a fight broke out, Yin Ci’s “immortal body” would be known to all.

Sect Master Shi was both worried and anxious, almost biting into the cloth in his hand.

Only when Yin Ci’s breathing finally stabilized did he turn his attention to the stone ball. To his disappointment, he found nothing unusual about it. The stone ball, along with others, was placed into a jar by Hua Jingchun, looking colorful and appealing. They were coated with fragrant balm and were obviously well-preserved. Apart from that, they were just ordinary stones.

…The only thing left was that booklet.

Shi Jingzhi lit calming incense in the four corners of the room. He then pushed Yin Ci into the bed and half-laid down himself. Yin Ci’s state was like deep sleep; his breathing was shallow and long. His brows were tightly furrowed, and there was no expression on his face, but his eyes showed a peculiar pain.

Shi Jingzhi couldn’t help but hold Yin Ci’s right hand, kissing his palm.

Cold as ice.

Shi Jingzhi sighed, placing Yin Ci’s cold hand on his waist, trying to warm it. He closed his eyes, focusing for a moment before opening the booklet’s first page.

His initial feeling was disappointment.

Shi Jingzhi had thought that there would be neat handwriting inside, recording secrets. But the book looked as if it had been written by a child just learning to write, with handwriting so poor that it was hard to read. Some ink characters were smudged, as if water had been dripped on them constantly.

After flipping through several pages, all he saw were messy calligraphy practice pages. Random characters were written, not forming any coherent sentences.

Sun Huaijin’s raspy voice echoed in his mind.

[During the years when the founding emperor was ill, Sun Wang seemed to change—an imposing nine-chi man was curled up and was constantly weeping as he learned to write.]

Could this be Sun Wang’s calligraphy practice book? Shi Jingzhi rubbed his forehead.

Legends of Sun Wang learning to write weren’t unheard of. But if this was just a practice book, why had Lady Sun hidden it in the statue?

Shi Jingzhi patiently flipped through the pages, being careful not to damage the old paper.

Sun Wang was clearly intelligent, and his writing became clearer. The words began to form short sentences with structure. The only constant were marks that looked like either water or tear stains.

When he reached the middle of the book, his hand suddenly froze, his face a mask of shock—

[Xu Li, He Cheng’an, worse than animals.]

[I, Sun Wang, am worse than an animal.]

This page had only these two sentences, repeated over and over, filling the entire page like a malevolent curse.

Xu Li, was the name of the founding emperor. He Cheng’an, the revered Imperial Preceptor.

According to legends, Sun Wang had a brotherly relationship with these two men, and there were even rumors that they were sworn brothers. However, seeing the loyal Marquis of Lie’an leave such handwriting, Shi Jingzhi couldn’t help but shiver. He took a deep breath before flipping to the next page.

This time, Shi Jingzhi was completely shocked.

Beside him, Yin Ci was having a long dream.

In his dream, he was alone, standing in thick darkness. He was surrounded by bizarre illusions, looking like dirty catkins.

Voices came from all directions, as if countless mouths were speaking to him, making his head feel like it would explode. Yin Ci couldn’t help but kneel, seeing himself shatter like a clay statue. With the sound of rolling stone balls, many illusions burst like bubbles, leaving the darkest one—the one he tried to ignore and put behind him.

Memories scattered in the illusions began to return, stabbing his mind like knives.

Over three hundred years ago, the sky was ablaze with war, and chaos broke out everywhere. Everyone said that the world was in turmoil and only the country of Yun had a glimmer of hope.

The ruler of Yun was Xu Li, originally a vassal. In his youth, Xu Li was promising, with two trusted aides named Sun Wang and He Cheng’an. One excelled in martial arts and the other in scholarship; together, they guarded a scenic region. As long as one could flee to the country of Yun, they wouldn’t starve.

Yin Ci was originally an orphan who survived the war. His face attracted many malicious people. To protect himself, he learned martial arts and even saved many abandoned children with similar fates. Hearing about the country of Yun, he didn’t hesitate and led his group there.

With his guidance, over a hundred abandoned children successfully entered the country of Yun without any casualties. This incident caused a huge stir, and Xu Li, finding it interesting, personally met this brilliant young man.

At that time, Xu Li was only in his twenties. He wasn’t particularly handsome but was very amiable. He Cheng’an, wearing a pure white robe with an ethereal aura, stroked his long beard and spoke with a smile.

[This young man has a remarkable appearance. Given time, he will surely become a person of great merit.]

Xu Li seemed to trust He Cheng’an deeply. Based on his recommendation, Yin Ci was treated as a guest, and even had the chance to study. The children Yin Ci brought had food to eat; the clever ones became apprentices, and the simpler ones became servants.

…At that time, Yin Ci really felt lucky.

The first person he truly got to know was Sun Wang. Yin Ci showed talent in strategy, and Sun Wang was an experienced military leader. Over time, Yin Ci often visited Sun Wang’s home. They would discuss military strategies or play with the sand table late into the night.

At that time, Sun Wang’s wife was pregnant. She would always gaze at Sun Wang with affectionate eyes.

Yin Ci had heard Sun Wang boast countless times that every piece of clothing he wore was handmade by his wife. Sun Wang was very humble and didn’t have the airs of a general. He insisted on taking care of his wife in their daily lives that he would even boil sugar water himself, fearing the servants might scald his beloved wife’s hands.

[I’m a simple man. It must be my good karma from a previous life that I married the best woman in the world.] Sun Wang would often say.

Their deep love was evident. Even when they were engrossed in war games, a single sneeze from Lady Sun would make Sun Wang rush to her side. Yin Ci, who grew up without parents, enjoyed watching the couple’s harmonious relationship.

Xu Li, a close friend of Sun Wang since childhood, would often visit the Sun’s home in disguise, with He Cheng’an following closely. The four of them would chat leisurely or discuss world affairs, getting along very well.

Unfortunately, the eldest son of the Sun family would not get the chance to recognize Yin Ci as his godfather. Before the boy was born, Yin Ci went to the battlefield with Sun Wang to start the first step of quelling the chaotic world. Year after year, Yin Ci matured from a teenager to a young adult on the battlefield, surpassing Sun Wang and becoming Xu Li’s top general.

Thankfully, Sun Wang never held grudges and, despite their age difference, wholeheartedly became Yin Ci’s deputy. Xu Li didn’t show any dissatisfaction, even though his friend was overshadowed. He treated Yin Ci with genuine sincerity and respect, and held He Cheng’an, the “discoverer*”, in the highest regard.

*This is referencing Bo Le (伯乐), used to refer to someone who can recognize and appreciate talents in others (basically, He Cheng’an scouted Yin Ci). It comes from Bo Le, who was a horse tamer and was famous for his ability to judge good horses.

Yun’s territory expanded step by step, and the bond between the four grew tighter. With Xu Li’s popularity among the people, the combination of Sun Wang and Yin Ci’s military might, and He Cheng’an’s brilliant strategies, their teamwork was impeccable. They were as close as family.

Yin Ci, having lost his parents at birth and having grown up amidst war, now had benefactors and a bond as close as family. He spared no effort, risking life and limb for the country of Yun. His military tactics were unparalleled, and he had great prestige among the soldiers. He became the Chief General of Yun when he was just twenty.

After seven or eight years of concerted effort, they finally brought peace to the turbulent world. Starting with a ceremony initiated by Sun Wang, using He Cheng’an’s immortal wine as a token, the four of them became sworn brothers.

It was truly his happiest moment.

However, one imperfection remained. He Cheng’an claimed the immortal wine was beneficial, but after drinking it, Yin Ci felt a subtle drain of his inner force. Yin Ci asked Sun Wang, who drank from the same bottle, but Sun Wang seemed clueless. Yin Ci didn’t suspect anything amiss and just took some medicine prescribed by He Cheng’an, thinking that a momentary weakness after the war was no big deal.

…How naive he was back then.

Though he was now surrounded by darkness, Yin Ci still closed his eyes. The memories that followed were like webs embedded in his brain, each tug bringing immense pain and fear.

After the turbulent times ended and the four of them became sworn brothers. Not long passed before a severe drought hit the nation. The strong and vigorous Xu Li unexpectedly fell ill during these hard times when food and water were scarce. At that moment, Yin Ci quickly forgot about his own minor “inner force affliction”. He was at a complete loss, as anxious as an ant on a hot pan.

[It’s just after we moved the capital to Yidu, and now there’s a drought. Elder Brother Xu is gravely ill. This is really ominous. Elder Brother He told us to prepare for a ceremony… a ritual to ward off evil spirits. Did he tell you?]

Sun Wang’s tone was slightly stiff. When he said this, he didn’t look at Yin Ci.

[There’s a need for fasting and worshiping the gods. I heard the preparations alone will take a month. Elder Brother He…]

[I will go find the Imperial Preceptor.] Among the four, Yin Ci was the most resistant to the return of chaotic times. [Elder Brother Xu cannot fall. I’d even exchange my life if that’s what it takes.]

Sun Wang said nothing; his eyes were filled with a complex mix of emotions. Looking back now, his eyes were full of sorrow.

[Alright,] he replied, pausing after each word. [I’ll accompany you.]

At the same time.

Beside Yin Ci, Shi Jingzhi was carefully reading the words on the pages, feeling as if his organs were encased in ice. His fingers brushed over the coarse paper, feeling numb, as if they had lost all sensation.

Shi Jingzhi stopped pondering how much the “Immortal Assembly” was involved in this matter. Every ugly word transformed into a spike, drilling directly into his brain.

The two founders of the nation were originally three.

Not long after the four swore brotherhood, He Cheng’an secretly sought out Xu Li and Sun Wang.

He claimed that “the fortune of the Yin Clan’s children was too strong, which might overshadow our Great Yun nation’s destiny.” At a time when things were going well, Xu Li and Sun Wang, out of loyalty and righteousness, immediately refused to hand over Yin Ci to He Cheng’an.

He Cheng’an didn’t press further but just shook his head and left.

Soon after, the capital of Great Yun was relocated. That same year, a great drought struck, and disasters occurred everywhere. While still in his prime, Xu Li contracted a mysterious illness. Unlike Sun Wang, who had many children, Xu Li only had a young son. Seeing that the once-prosperous nation might perish, He Cheng’an visited again.

[It’s not that I’m ungrateful, Your Majesty, but you must prioritize the wellbeing of the citizens.]

Sun Wang, angered by the statement, was about to retort but was stopped by Xu Li.

[The young man is talented and looks extraordinary, even more like an emperor than you. A nation can’t have two emperors. Fate flourishes then declines; this is nature’s wrath. The one with an overwhelming fate must sacrifice himself to appease the heavens.]

He Cheng’an was more serious than ever before.

[Your Majesty, I don’t understand martial arts, and the warriors don’t respect me. General Sun can’t read, and the scholars don’t recognize him. This man excels in both martial and literary skills. If Your Majesty…]

Xu Li, already pale from his illness, looked even worse upon hearing this. Sun Wang was extremely angered but held back due to the emperor’s presence.

He Cheng’an stared directly at Xu Li and pointedly said, [Even if you don’t consider the citizens, think about your own flesh and blood.]

[It’s all bullshit!] Sun Wang couldn’t hold back any longer and yelled. [Elder Brother He, how can you come up with such a rotten idea after knowing each other for so many years? Even if I were to rebel, General Yin would never!]

He Cheng’an didn’t reply, which only angered Sun Wang more.

[We face adversities together. To sacrifice someone to the heavens based on this ridiculous reason? We don’t need such a heaven!]

[Have my judgments ever been wrong, General Sun? I’m considering what’s best for Great Yun,] He Cheng’an said with a chilling smile. Despite Sun Wang’s vast battle experience, he was taken aback by that smile.

Sun Wang looked to Xu Li, hoping for his friend’s support. However, Xu Li, instead of responding as he usually would, let out a huge cough and remained silent for a long time.

After a while, Xu Li finally spoke. [Brother Sun, I remember your third daughter was just born… Is Cuicui well? It’s cold outside; bring your family to the palace to stay until spring.]

Despite the palace being warm, Sun Wang felt as if he were in the bitter cold. He sensed the underlying threat in Xu Li’s words.

He Cheng’an then said calmly, [I’ll prepare the ritual. General Sun, there’s no need for such anger. To ensure the ritual is successful, I too will sacrifice myself. I’ve already chosen my successor.]

Xu Li’s eyes reddened. [The Imperial Preceptor is truly noble.]

[This is madness, Elder Brother Xu! Think of another way! Every dynasty faces calamities. This is just Lao He’s… No, just the Imperial Preceptor’s own opinion!]

He Cheng’an, ignoring Sun Wang, said, [I hope His Majesty can set up two execution grounds, one in the Northwest and one in Yidu. General Yin will be the sacrifice in the Northwest to calm the disasters. I will be the sacrifice in Yidu to bless our Great Yun.]

Xu Li, not paying any attention to the pleading Sun Wang, stared at his sickly hands, [Agreed.]

The words that followed were too blurred to read.

Sun Wang was sent to notify Yin Ci about the sacrificial ceremony to heaven, but he struggled for a long time and still couldn’t tell the truth. He watched helplessly as Yin Ci was taken away by He Cheng’an. For the following month, he and his family were “guests” in the palace.

Inside the palace, Sun Wang was still informed. In a month, Xu Li acted swiftly. The nation’s achievements were all credited to Sun Wang. Various books were revised, and storytellers were investigated both openly and covertly.

Sun Wang, having been a war strategist for many years, never thought he would taste such bitterness and despair during a peaceful period.

He began to learn to write, trying to document the truth for future generations. He didn’t want to involve his beloved wife, Cuicui, into the mess. Unable to voice his anguish, he could only watch as she worried for him.

Ironically, after Yin Ci’s sacrifice, the Great Prohibition in the Northwest was established. The natural disasters miraculously ceased, and Xu Li’s health improved. Before the next sacrificial ceremony, He Cheng’an made a special visit to Sun Wang. Sun Wang refused to see him, and after the ceremony, the Imperial Preceptor vanished as if he really had “sacrificed his body for the heavens”.

Sun Wang, deeply affected by this, wished only to retire from his duties. He had even prepared his resignation letter, waiting for the right moment to submit it.

Lady Sun saw her husband’s desolation and was heartbroken. She didn’t probe further, only mentioning that He Cheng’an had given them a tonic before his sacrifice. She planned to stew it the next day, marking an end to their entanglement with the current affairs of the kingdom.

Sun Wang agreed and held his wife, sobbing uncontrollably.

However, the record abruptly ended on this page, with the rest blank.

What really happened?

Sun Wang didn’t resign. According to recorded history, Xu Li still died young. Sun Wang became the regent, leading the young prince’s armies and stabilizing the frontier.

Yin Ci’s sacrifice was hailed as “a life for a life”. Sun Wang was right in his assessment: He Cheng’an had lied—how could someone immortal “exchange lives”? Was Yin Ci’s sacrifice beneath the Great Prohibition in the Northwest, as he had speculated?

Shi Jing clutched Yin Ci’s right hand, pressing it to his lips, trembling for the first time.

In the darkness, Yin Ci finally pieced together the fragmented memories. He understood the purpose of the “one month of preparation” before “praying to the gods”.

After entering the Imperial Preceptor’s Residence, he only remembered hearing a jarring tune. Then, he felt constantly inebriated, feeling constant pain around his neck. It seemed as though his head was decapitated repeatedly, choked by the wine until he nearly suffocated. Every time he tried to regain consciousness, a haunting melody rendered him immobile.

[Save more, once it reaches three thousand, it’ll be useful.]

…That was He Cheng’an’s voice, indifferent and without his usual jest.

[My Lord, this man has a unique talent. Our sound techniques can barely suppress him.]

[That’s why I told you to gather more materials. Once you have enough, I’ll know where to place him.]

Finally, the choking wine stopped, and the bone-deep pain ceased. At that time, Yin Ci merely thought it was a blurry nightmare. Not to mention he had been in a constant daze; how could a person have so many heads to be beheaded? This dream was genuinely ridiculous. When he woke up, he was determined to tell Sun Wang and He Cheng’an about it.

Then, he groaned a few times, struggling to open his eyes, only to see complete darkness.

His head still ached, and his thoughts seemed to have rusted. Yin Ci tried to sit up, only to find he couldn’t support himself. As soon as he lifted his head, it bumped against a hard, cold stone slab.

Below his hands was a cold stone mixed with strange, soft, cold liquid beads, resembling residual mercury. A chill ran down Yin Ci’s spine as he reached up and indeed felt another stone slab. Using his body, he determined the shape of this “stone box”, and his mind went blank in an instant.

…For some unknown reason, he was lying inside a stone coffin.

At this moment, he didn’t care whether it was a nightmare or not, and immediately started banging on the coffin lid. Unfortunately, apart from the silence, he received no response. Yin Ci tried to use the little inner force he had left but found he had none remaining; he couldn’t even chip off a bit of stone.

Was this the “exorcism ceremony” Sun Wang mentioned?

On the first day, he thought it might be a prank from his friends.

If he endured this day, they would open the lid to see the panicked expression of Great Yun’s top general.

On the second day, he thought it might be some kind of sacrifice, trading a life for another.

If it meant that Xu Li would be safe and the land stable, it was worth his death… He Cheng’an was getting old, and Sun Wang had a family to care for. He was willing to die for them. He had just a bit of resentment; having known them for nearly a decade, were those guys afraid he would run away? He could have left gracefully, with a proper farewell.

On the third day, he wondered, why was he still alive?

Without food or water and nearly suffocating, he should have been long dead. Was this reality? Or another dream he couldn’t wake up from? He screamed until his mouth tasted of blood. He pinched himself hard, even tearing a chunk of flesh from his body.

The pain had never been so real and vivid.

On the fourth day, he finally began to fear.

Yin Ci went over his not-so-long life again and again, trying to find any anomalies. Finding none, he then tried to identify his own mistakes—there must be a reason for such eerie despair.

Be it the reason he was buried here or the reason “he was still alive”.

…But he couldn’t figure it out.

A year passed, and Yin Ci could barely think coherently. Only the thought of “I must escape” lingered. Dressed in silk, he had no metal or tools. He felt around but couldn’t find anything suitable.

Bones were hard, he thought desperately, so what about human bones?

For the first time, he broke his left arm. Blood was everywhere, flesh hanging off. With great effort, he tore the flesh to expose the bone, then used that bone to grind against the stone.

‘Maybe I’ve gone mad,’ Yin Ci thought. After all, even the fact that a new left arm instantly grew didn’t startle him anymore.

Someone had apparently tried to pry open the stone coffin before, leaving a small gap. The mercury slowly disappeared, and various bugs came and went, consuming the decaying flesh and bone debris, so the coffin wasn’t filled with remains. Yin Ci never stopped, day after day, using the bone of his arm to grind at the same spot on the stone wall.

‘I must get out,’ he thought numbly.

Yin Ci tore off his left arm again and again, getting more proficient each time. After an unknown period, he could use his fingers to peel the flesh away, leaving only the useful bone.

He had to escape, to find a reason, an answer, or an end.

Except for this thought, the rest of his memories were a blur. Intense pain, accompanied by the friction sound of bone grinding against stone, never ceased. The darkness spawned countless hallucinations, and Yin Ci started to have delusions to escape the reality.

Until the first “crack” sound.

The thick stone coffin had been ground to form a hole. There was always a way out; instead of compact soil behind the hole, there was an underground cavern.

Oblivious, Yin Ci continued to grind at the opening.

With the cavern as a dumping ground for his limbs, his efficiency increased. Once there was a breach in the stone coffin, further destruction came easily. As days turned to months, the vast cavern was nearly filled with bones. Eventually, Yin Ci created a hole large enough to pass through.

Unfortunately, he was nearly mad, unable to feel joy, just continuing to dig forward. After an unknown time, his skeletal hands touched the scorching yellow sand.

Blinding sunlight poured in.

He nestled in the sand like an animal. As a snake approached, he bit it in half, swallowing it whole. Yin Ci wandered like a walking corpse in the vast desert… Later, he encountered desert bandits and then the village that took him in.

As Chen Qianfan recorded.

According to Chen Qianfan’s records, he had been in that underground coffin for at least eighty years.

The beheading was real, as was the endless darkness. Though he always regarded them as part of his “delusions”, the fear and madness always lurked deep in his mind, occasionally pushing him to the edge.

Some things were better left forgotten. Just the roll of a stone, and he was forced back to the edge.

[Minister Yin, I’ll never fail you.]

[Good brother, even in death, I won’t let you down.]

[This Old Man will not fail General Yin’s expectations.]

……

What a joke.

He was prepared to die for the world, for his loved ones. But he was never prepared to “live” like that.

In the boundless darkness, Yin Ci clenched his fist. Everything should have been cold, but for some reason, his right hand felt warm, as if next to a blazing stove. All the pain persisted, absurd as ever. However, facing the overwhelming darkness, he lost the impulse to go berserk.

Yin Ci clutched his right hand and slowly placed it over his heart. In the darkness, a golden flame danced happily on his right hand.

Don’t wake me up yet, brat.


Kinky Thoughts:

End of this arc.

The scene of Yin Ci’s beheading was shown in a previous chapter. This is also why he fears the darkness and tight spaces so much. This is also (probably) why Su Zhi’s sword technique is the Bone Sweeping Sword Technique.

Things are coming together.

Does Yin Ci have the most tragic past in all of Nian Zhong’s work?


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Escape From the Asylum Ch40

Author: 木尺素 / Mu Chisu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 40

Zhou Qian’s current environment was incredibly stifling.

The pitch-black corridor was narrow and cramped. The path ahead was blocked by a thick solid wall, and the path behind was endless. However, at the end of that road, there is still another solid wall.

But wait… After traveling this long distance, would everything behind him change?

In many games involving mazes, there was a common routine—when you wander around, get lost, find that you can’t get out anywhere, and don’t know what to do, it might be a good idea to go back to the starting point. You may find a new exit there. The beginning might also be the end.

But this wasn’t the case now. As Zhou Qian turned his head, even before he had a chance to walk back, he found another thick wall behind him.

Zhou Qian clenched his fist and knocked; the wall was solid.

This only made the atmosphere in the tunnel even more oppressive. Zhou Qian was now trapped in a small, square space. Solid walls surrounded him on all sides, even the ceiling. On his left and right were two glass doors.

On one side, the young Jiang Yuqing pressed his hand against the glass door, gazing at him with desperate eyes. On the other side, an older Jiang Yuqing’s eyes were murky, seemingly unaware of his surroundings. The distant rumbling noises and the occasional shaking further intensified the tense atmosphere.

Ten minutes to make a choice was relatively ample time.

Zhou Qian first looked at the young officer on his left. This figure slowly overlapped with the officer writing poetry in the photo illusion.

But Zhou Qian clearly knew one thing: in a way, all the young officers that appeared in this memory world weren’t entirely the same individual.

The first time Zhou Qian encountered the officer in the photo illusion, the officer was writing poetry. After finishing the poem, he burned it because he clearly remembered that Bei He had died.

Moreover, upon seeing Zhou Qian and other players behind him, he expressed great astonishment and said, “In my lifetime, I can actually see you again?”

When Zhou Qian entered the illusion earlier, the officer he met was still him. He didn’t believe Bei He would appear, thinking all of it was just his hallucination.

Because he still knew that Bei He had long been dead.

Thus, the young officer in the photo illusion was indeed the same person from beginning to end. His emotions were consistent—he was deeply saddened because he clearly remembered that every member of the Falcon Squadron had died.

However, thinking back, the Jiang Yuqing in the main plot of the “West Pier”, although young, didn’t initially have similar memories or understanding.

He was immersed in the Cypress City storyline, waiting for Bai He and the other Falcon Squadron members to save him. It was only on the pier, when he saw Bei He and everyone turn into ghosts and unable to leave Cypress City, that he realized or recalled that they had all died.

Hence, Jiang Yuqing in that level, though youthful in appearance, actually corresponds to the older Jiang Yuqing with dementia.

The elderly Jiang Yuqing revisited old grounds in a young shell, reliving similar past events and recalling everything.

It was evident that many young Jiang Yuqings appeared in this game. But this didn’t mean these young Jiang Yuqings were the same entity. They weren’t all on the side that would help the player survive.

Only the young officer in the photo illusion remembered everything. He would guide players to survive, reminding his older self of the past.

But the young Jiang Yuqing in the illusion, or in a specific level, might not be the same.

So, Zhou Qian knew deep down that the Jiang Yuqing on both sides, one old and one young, might not offer any lifelines.

Through the glass door on the left, looking at the handsome face of the young Jiang Yuqing, Zhou Qian thought of the cruel question he asked Jiang Yuqing by the dim candlelight in the illusion not long ago.

“Do you feel guilty? If you were to live the rest of your life alone, what would your truest wish be?”

Jiang Yuqing’s answer was crystal clear and still echoed in his ears.

“Countless times in my dreams, I always dream of the same scene.”

“In the tunnel where Bei He and I made our last escape, it’s endlessly long. This way, we can hold hands and keep running…”

“But even in my dreams, I was still lucid. I knew very well that the moment when the shells would drop, or the bullets would fly, was inevitable.”

“So, the end of the dream was simple—”

“I walked with Bei He to an exit of the tunnel, climbed out together, and then I died alongside him.”

“We would never betray the oath we made when we joined the Seventh Army, nor would we betray our faith. But at least, we could die together.”

Then, abruptly changing the topic, Jiang Yuqing in the photograph illusion said, “But dreams are just dreams. If history could repeat itself, I would make the same choice. I couldn’t turn back and leave the tunnel to die with Bei He. Because my life… was not my own. The times bestowed upon me a mission; I had my duty, so I had to survive.”

“Everyone… Everyone wanted me to survive. They wouldn’t let me die.”

“Even Bei He said… With great power comes great responsibility. I indeed had to survive.”

“They called me a hero, a great man, saying I was crucial.”

“They said the nation needed me, the people needed me, and I had to continue my research…”

“But maybe… when I’m old, losing my memory, and can’t do research anymore, I can finally belong to myself. By then, I want to live for myself, even if it’s just for a moment.”

“I don’t know how long I will live. But if I can live to an old age… I’m afraid by then, everyone I know will be dead. Bei He, Dong Shui, Nan Hu, Xi Jiang… all gone. And the rest of the Seventh Army, perhaps all have passed away one after another—”

“The Falcon Squadron’s tasks were all confidential, and their records have been gradually destroyed.”

“See, they made such sacrifices, but no one in the world will know or remember.”

“No one remembers they were heroes… except for me.”

“In this world, only I remember their efforts, the blood they shed, and their sacrifices…”

“So, I cannot forget them.”

“Perhaps old age, brain degradation, and atrophy will uncontrollably make me forget everything.”

“If that’s the case, I hope to die before I forget completely.”

“I want to die holding onto the memories of them.”

Walking along this long tunnel, Zhou Qian realized that everything in front of him was actually in line with Jiang Yuqing’s words in the photograph illusion. This seemingly endless tunnel, which eventually would have an end, was the recurring dream of Jiang Yuqing.

In the dream, he finally let go of his identity and mission and impulsively lived for himself. Even in the dream, he wouldn’t desert, nor would he betray the Seventh Army to join the S Army. He just wanted to die with Bei He.

Now, the young Jiang Yuqing stood to Zhou Qian’s left.

From his perspective, Bei He, so close yet untouchable, was right there. This was the end of the tunnel. All he had to do was grab Bei He’s hand, turn around, escape through an exit, and they could die together under gunfire…

So, he couldn’t choose the left path.

Opening that door, the next thing would be gunfire and explosions. Zhou Qian was certain that he might be blown to pieces.

What about the right side?

The older Jiang Yuqing on the right was very close to the real Jiang Yuqing at this moment in time. He was old, forgetful, and continuously erasing memories.

Moreover, this Jiang Yuqing has manic episodes and once became a Rank B “monster”.

Zhou Qian didn’t even need to think about it; he knew that once he entered that room, the older Jiang Yuqing would become murderous again. Representing the disease of “dementia”, he would surely kill himself. Now that Jiang Yuqing’s life was in its last day, the condition of dementia was likely worsening. Therefore, the “monster” in this conscious world might become stronger, not just Rank B.

There was no resentment for Zhou Qian to utilize here, and no one to help boost his vitality. His ultimate ability was basically useless. In this situation, he was really weak. So, for him, entering the room on the right also meant certain death.

Both paths led to death.

The only difference was whether he would be killed by gunfire or killed by Jiang Yuqing himself.

Zhou Qian raised an eyebrow slightly, checked the time on his wristwatch, and once again looked around the narrow tunnel.

He suddenly realized that if he looked at it from a different perspective… Perhaps the situation of this tunnel was different from that of the “West Pier”.

If the former nursing home and Room 701 that the players entered represented the first layer of Jiang Yuqing’s consciousness world, then the Checks and Balance level and the West Pier level were deeper layers within that consciousness world, namely the second layer.

At first, Zhou Qian thought that this tunnel, just like the West Pier and Check and Balance, was also the second layer of consciousness.

But as he saw the tunnel becoming narrower and narrower until he was completely blocked by walls on both sides, Zhou Qian realized something was wrong.

Perhaps the tunnel did start as the second layer of consciousness.

But it was possible that the outer first layer had already collapsed.

Today was the third day Zhou Qian had been in the nursing home. It was also the last day of Jiang Yuqing’s life.

Jiang Yuqing’s life was coming to an end, with his condition at its worst. Before, only the caregivers, vases, security guards, and the front desk had disappeared, but now it seems that the entire former nursing home might have vanished.

The first layer of consciousness irreversibly collapsed, with this second layer merging with it and then replacing it, becoming the primary layer of consciousness.

And this was the only consciousness world that the elderly Jiang Yuqing could sustain.

Every tunnel has its end.

This was a dream that Jiang Yuqing had, letting go of all external responsibilities.

Now the space of consciousness was further reduced to a cube.

The last memory point in Jiang Yuqing’s mind was also here.

……

Zhou Qian was just pondering this when suddenly, a massive cannon sound rang out again.

The ground shook violently before him.

Once he steadied himself, he found that the walls had moved closer.

It wouldn’t be long before Jiang Yuqing in the real world passed away. He wouldn’t even be able to maintain this last bit of tunnel memory space.

Taking a deep breath, Zhou Qian turned to the left and approached the young Jiang Yuqing.

The young Jiang Yuqing immediately showed a joyful expression. He spread his arms as if wanting to embrace Zhou Qian, welcoming him to come and take him out of the tunnel towards a shared fate in death.

Zhou Qian walked to the glass door, even pressing his palm against it.

But he didn’t open the door; he just looked at Jiang Yuqing and said, “Actually, once a person dies, it’s all over. Death isn’t scary. Living is the hardest. So I think… in a way, you are braver than Bei He.”

“Jiang Yuqing, you’re a brave and determined person. Even in dreams, you’ve never betrayed anyone.”

“Such a person as you is a true hero.”

“And because of this, this dream is just that—a dream. You wouldn’t want to die alongside Bei He in a past story. If you die, no one in the world will remember those heroes whose names aren’t even mentioned in the archives.”

“So, dying with Bei He under the bombardment of Cypress City is not your final wish.”

“And me… I’ll find you. Bei He promised to meet you. I’m here to fulfill that promise on his behalf.”

“I will, in the name of Bei He, go to the end of your life to greet you.”

With that said, Zhou Qian waved to the young Jiang Yuqing and turned to walk to the other end of the tunnel.

On both sides of the narrow tunnel was the same Jiang Yuqing, but they existed in different times and scenarios.

Now, Zhou Qian was like walking from one side of his life to the symbolic endpoint on the other side.

He stood quietly in front of the glass door on the right side for a moment, gently pushing the door open.

The moment the glass door opened, the ground shook again.

Looking back, Zhou Qian saw the glass door close by itself.

Through the door, the young Jiang Yuqing was pounding on his side, but he couldn’t open it or run out.

……

After a violent shake, another door vanished, replaced by another wall.

Then, with a series of loud “clangs,” three walls kept closing in.

In no time, the spot where Zhou Qian stood for the multiple-choice question was occupied by a solid wall.

The consciousness world further collapsed and converged, leaving just a small space.

And in this tiny space, only Zhou Qian and the elderly Jiang Yuqing remained.

Before leaving the photo illusion, after answering Zhou Qian’s cruel question, Jiang Yuqing had handed him a celadon bottle.

Now, Zhou Qian finally understood what was inside that bottle.

“Come on, Jiang Yuqing.” Looking at the elderly man with cloudy eyes, Zhou Qian spoke up. “Either you kill me, or I kill you.”

[Target: Jiang Yuqing]

[Rank: S]

[Specialty: ???]

[Warning: The target’s attack is extremely strong! Player Zhou Qian cannot resist his attack at all!]

[Warning: The target’s defense is super high! Player Zhou Qian cannot harm him at all!]

The target was the incarnation of the master of the conscious world.

Indeed, how could one defeat the master of this world while in the conscious world?

[Player Zhou Qian, the system has recently launched new tombstones. You’re welcome to purchase—]

The agitated form of Jiang Yuqing indeed appeared again.

His attack power had clearly increased, and his eyes had turned bright red.

He raised his palm, showing no mercy, and slapped Zhou Qian.

Killing Bei He and erasing memories associated with him was the only directive given by this diseased brain!

Amidst the intense killing intent, Zhou Qian looked up at Jiang Yuqing calmly.

Surprisingly, Zhou Qian’s eyes were rather gentle. Speaking in Bei He’s tone, he softly said, “Mr. Jiang, I love you. That’s why I’ll… gently kill you.”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Qizi Ch40

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 40

Ling Xiao quickly deduced the origin of the bread beside him and couldn’t help but find it both amusing and touching. He didn’t doubt for a moment that Ying Feng bought the banana-flavored bread because he once mentioned liking the taste of bananas. However, that was in comparison to strawberry, not implying he liked banana flavored energy bread.

‘Forget it,’ he thought resignedly as he started to tear open the package. Remembering the mere fact that he mentioned liking bananas was considerate enough on Ying Feng’s part. Given his current level of hunger, even if it were durian-flavored, he’d still eat it.

Before Ling Xiao could fully open the packaging, the door handle of the medical room turned. Quickly, he threw the half-opened bread aside, turning his head away defiantly.

Upon entering and seeing the scene, Ying Feng paused briefly. Pretending nothing was amiss, he walked over and handed something to Ling Xiao.

Ling Xiao glanced at it and quickly looked away, internally rolling his eyes. Sticking to one brand of bread and even buying the same type of water from their previous training session, Ying Feng sure was consistent. It wouldn’t be surprising if he also wanted a lover from a past life.

Since Ling Xiao didn’t take the water, Ying Feng placed it next to the bread. This was when Yao Tai entered the room. Seeing the bread and beverage, her suppressed anger flared up.

“He’s in his growth period, can’t you buy him something nutritious?” she chided.

“I bought it based on his preferences,” Ying Feng calmly replied.

“Who likes emergency food?” Yao Tai wondered if he was playing dumb or if he genuinely didn’t know better. “Even convenience stores have warm drinks or dairy products. Who would buy a chilled drink for someone who just fainted?”

She moved to dispose of what Ying Feng brought, but Ling Xiao quickly grabbed the bread, startling her. Observing the scene and their reactions, she deduced he was probably famished and would eat anything.

“I’ve spoken to your instructor. If I catch you two going to classes again, you’ll be sent back. The academy’s vacation is mandatory, not optional. Don’t act tough.”

She then warned Ying Feng, “If you neglect him again tonight, I’ll separate you two on grounds of neglecting your Qizhu duties, regardless of Ling Xiao’s condition.”

Ling Xiao, mistakenly believing he had passed the tumultuous period, was unaware of the impending mental backlash. He was confused by Yao Tai’s words. “I don’t need him to take care of me.” But he quickly remembered the condition of Lan Sheng he had witnessed in the detention room. “I also don’t want to be isolated.”

Yao Tai hesitated before reluctantly handing Ling Xiao a bottle of medicine. “This can temporarily relieve mental stress and aid sleep, but it has severe side effects and is addictive. Use it as a last resort.”

Receiving the medication, Ling Xiao missed Ying Feng’s frown of concern.

“Lastly, I want to remind both of you, the duration of your school probation is actually determined by me. Ling Xiao, you’ve been formally listed as a priority observation subject by the Disease Control Center. From now on, you need to report here every week, both you and Ying Feng. Until your psychological assessment has returned to a safe level, I will not allow you to advance in your studies.”

She then confiscated the cold drink. “The bread is okay, but no cold drinks.”

When Ling Xiao left, Yao Tai stopped Ying Feng, whispering, “Ling Xiao told me you’re looking for someone.”

His expression shifted.

“But even if you find them, in your current state, they won’t want you.”

Ying Feng visibly recoiled.

Yao Tai pushed him away. “Get out.”

After walking a distance, Ying Feng caught up with Ling Xiao, silently handing him a card. Ling Xiao looked up, puzzled.

“You can head back.” Ying Feng awkwardly added, “You can also use this card.”

Ling Xiao knew that without this card, he couldn’t enter certain places, and it was impossible to go to class. If he went to the rooftop, this guy might lose his nerve again, so he accepted it without a word.

After Ying Feng left, Ling Xiao headed to the cafeteria, a place he hadn’t been to in a while and found somewhat unfamiliar.

Even though it wasn’t mealtime, there were windows that provided food all day. Ling Xiao took out Ying Feng’s card and swiped it on the machine. The displayed balance caught him off guard.

He silently calculated in his mind; tomorrow would be the day when their living expenses were distributed. With so much money still on the card, he felt uneasy about not being able to spend it all.

The cafeteria staff noticed him hesitating after swiping the card and thought he was unsure about what to order. Little did they know about the internal debate raging inside Ling Xiao.

“You seem to be an adult, how about trying a nutritional set meal? It’s most suitable during the growth phase.”

“Is it expensive?”

The worker looked surprised, thinking, ‘The richer they are, the stingier they get.’ He replied, “Not at all. It’s very affordable.”

“I don’t want the cheap one. Give me the most expensive one.”

Worker: “…”

Ling Xiao enjoyed his luxurious meal in the cafeteria, while Ying Feng was dealing with getting a supplementary card in the logistics department.

“You’ve been an adult for a few days now and only just thought to get a card,” the staff joked with him. “Young people should learn to be moderate.”

Ying Feng silently entered information on the platform. The staff, however, continued speaking, reminiscing about his younger days.

“Back in my day, when I had just become an adult, I was just like you, not knowing the meaning of restraint. Have you heard the rumor? After the coming-of-age ceremony, the Qizhu will seize part of the spirit of the Qizi while transferring a part of their own spirit to them. As a result, neither soul is complete. Only the closest union can put them at ease.”

“Looking back, it sounds naive, but back then, it seemed like the most romantic thing ever. And let me tell you, after we did that, my Qizi’s psychological rating was very healthy. They developed very well. We…”

Ying Feng pressed submit, interrupting the staff’s lengthy speech. “I’m done.”

The staff, disappointed, emotionlessly processed the card. “All set. You can now give this to your Qizi. From now on, both of your living expenses will be deposited into this account. The main card and supplementary card balances are linked.”

“Thank you.” Ying Feng took the card and left, leaving the staff member sighing.

“Ah, why don’t young people these days want to listen to the wisdom of their elders?”

Getting the card took quite some time. By the time Ying Feng returned, Ling Xiao was already in the dormitory, clutching a black box. Seeing Ying Feng, he tried to hide it.

Ying Feng’s alarms went off. After learning of Ling Xiao’s contact with Zhen He, he was worried that Ling Xiao might be deceived by Zhen He’s sweet talk. Given Ling Xiao’s current behavior, it wasn’t far-fetched to think that Zhen He might secretly provide him with experimental drugs.

“What’s in the box?” he demanded.

Ling Xiao hesitated, revealing his guilt. “It’s none of your business.”

Ying Feng grew more suspicious and took a step forward. “Show me.”

“No!” Ling Xiao hugged the box tightly.

Ying Feng’s tone became more commanding. “Show it to me.”

Ling Xiao was reluctant, but his hands moved involuntarily. Struggling, he slowly handed over the box, his hands trembling.

As the box neared Ying Feng, Ling Xiao raised his voice in desperation. “Don’t!”

Just as Ying Feng was about to open it, Ling Xiao whispered, almost inaudibly, “Please, don’t look.”

Ying Feng paused, looking at Ling Xiao’s face, which bore an expression he had never seen before. It wasn’t resentment or begging, but an eerie calmness. This face was vastly different from the crying figure he remembered from his visions.

His gaze settled, seeming to convey endless emotions yet also devoid of any. Ying Feng felt as if he was seeing a shell wrapped in steel and concrete. If the steel was broken and the concrete stripped away, all that would remain would be a fragile shell, vulnerable to the slightest touch.

Ying Feng slowly withdrew his hand. Ling Xiao let out a sigh of relief, clutching the box closely, fearing Ying Feng might change his mind.

Suddenly, Ying Feng moved, startling Ling Xiao. However, this time he took out a card.

“This is for you.”

Ling Xiao probably guessed what the card was. Three days of hunger made him realize that even the most prideful people needed to eat. Thinking that his living expenses would soon be released, he didn’t feel like he was wasting his money. He freed one hand to take the card and gestured towards the table with his lips.

Ying Feng’s card was thrown onto the table by Ling Xiao. While Ying Feng turned away, Ling Xiao quickly put the card in the box. By the time Ying Feng turned back, the card had disappeared.

This time, Ying Feng didn’t ask where Ling Xiao had hidden the item. The two of them, forced to take a leave, stayed in the dorm, looking at each other in silence, with an incredibly tense atmosphere.

Bored, Ling Xiao reflected that, over the past decade, he and Ying Feng had little to say to each other. They had only interacted occasionally, mostly with Ling Xiao instigating and Ying Feng ignoring. Even after Ping Zong left, their relationship only slightly improved, marked mainly by mutual practice sessions. Genuine conversations between them were very rare.

Ling Xiao planned for his future, hoping to attend different schools or at least different departments than Ying Feng to minimize their interactions. After graduation, they could separate completely. If the principal could survive alone, he believed he could too.

As time passed and night fell, Ling Xiao grew increasingly uneasy. He thought the chaotic period was over, so why did he feel so abnormal?

Ying Feng had been observing Ling Xiao closely, paying more attention to him than he had in days. He always believed that, given Ling Xiao’s strong personality, he would never accept his help. But today, he saw the true nature of Ling Xiao’s chaotic period.

Under Ying Feng’s gaze, Ling Xiao, who would normally resist, now lacked the strength to even care. His vision began to blur, and everything around him seemed hazy.

In his pain, he finally spotted the medicine bottle Yao Tai gave him by his bed. Struggling, he reached out for it, missing twice before finally grabbing it.

He barely remembered Yao Tai’s warnings, struggling to open the bottle. He didn’t care how many pills spilled out; he just wanted to swallow what was left in his hand. A powerful grip caught his wrist, prying his fingers open to take the medicine. Ling Xiao glared at Ying Feng with fiery eyes.

A forearm was brought to his mouth, and Ling Xiao almost bit down without hesitation. With this bite, not only was it a reflex against pain, but it also carried intense resentment towards Ying Feng. He used almost all of his strength, yet Ying Feng never furrowed his brow.

Ling Xiao’s bite grew stronger until his teeth dug deep into Ying Feng’s skin, with fresh blood seeping into his mouth. The metallic, sweet scent revived part of his sanity.

As his clarity slowly returned, Ling Xiao finally realized there was something wrong. He shouldn’t be able to bite so fiercely when he couldn’t even throw a punch at him. By the time he realized this, it was already too late.

The coldness was entirely dispelled, and the fear vanished. In its place, a scorching heat swept through his entire body, unstoppable, as if burning embers had passed through.

Ying Feng felt the bite weakening, and just as he was surprised, his collar was grabbed by a blushing Ling Xiao. Caught off guard, he was pulled down, and their noses nearly touched.

“You…” Gazing at the face appearing so close in front of him, Ying Feng, who was clueless about the current situation, was taken aback for the first time. Ling Xiao’s reaction was far from what he had expected. He thought Ling Xiao would reject him, show fear, or get furious, but he never expected this.

Ling Xiao gripped Ying Feng’s collar tighter, pulling him even closer. His erratic breath brushed against Ying Feng’s ear. Being so close, Ying Feng even caught the scent of blood from Ling Xiao’s mouth.

In his dazed state, Ling Xiao uncontrollably rubbed his body against the other. A vivid thought deeply transmitted from the Qizi to the Qizhu’s mind. Ying Feng felt it—it was Ling Xiao’s desire.

Thinking this development was entirely abnormal, Ying Feng stretched out his arm to prop himself up, forcefully creating distance between them. But after doing so, he was surprised to find a part of his own body subtly changing.

Ling Xiao’s desire grew overwhelmingly intense, with only physical friction providing temporary relief. The adult films he had sneakily watched before served as a perfect guide now. He crazily leaned down, nibbling on Ying Feng’s neck and collarbone.

Ying Feng had let Ling Xiao bite his arm earlier to help him alleviate pain, not for him to act wildly on him like a mad dog. Moreover, Ying Feng was all too familiar with Ling Xiao’s behavior. Just a few days ago, he did something to a delirious Ling Xiao that he would rather not recall.

Not understanding why Ling Xiao turned out this way, after feeling another wet lick on his bare neck, Ying Feng couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed Ling Xiao’s collar in return and easily overpowered him. In terms of strength, Ling Xiao was no match for him now and was effortlessly pinned down.

“Snap out of it!” Ying Feng shouted.

Not to be outdone, Ling Xiao kept twisting under Ying Feng’s body, trying to turn the bottom up again; even the mind control of the Qizhu wasn’t enough to calm him down. Ying Feng realized that he couldn’t stop him without violence, so he simply raised his fist, trying to knock him out with a punch.

Ling Xiao didn’t know if his strength was exhausted, so suddenly he stopped struggling. He lay flat and motionless. Ying Feng’s raised fist continued looming in midair, unable to fall.

He saw Ling Xiao’s face after he calmed down; his eyes were blurred, his cheeks flushed, and his slightly opened lips were constantly exhaling heat. Perhaps it was because he hadn’t eaten for a few days that his thin chin looked a little pitiful.

Ling Xiao’s quietness didn’t last long. He was only a little weak because of the disorder period. After he had accumulated a little strength, he began to restlessly want to press the person on him down.

Ying Feng’s fist stayed in the air for a long time, and instead of smashing down as planned in advance, it slowly changed direction and came down between Ling Xiao’s legs. Ling Xiao, who had been restless just now, was instantly still the moment Ying Feng touched him. Ying Feng felt his muscles freeze at the same time, not knowing whether he was nervous or excited, just as he didn’t know whether Ling Xiao was conscious now or didn’t know what he was doing.

Ying Feng’s hand moved, and Ling Xiao’s changes under his palm were a little obvious. If he felt it carefully, he would find that the other’s body was beginning to tremble slightly. Ling Xiao brought his legs together and clamped them tightly, while Ying Feng’s fingers were locked between them. His legs would rub back and forth in a small range, alternating, as if it would liberate him from his difficult situation.

Friction brought Ling Xiao a brief pleasure, but he suffered even more because his swelling desire couldn’t be released. He didn’t completely lose his mind. On the contrary, Ling Xiao knew what he was doing psychologically. If he were completely awake at the moment, he would probably commit suicide from the shame of knowing what he was doing. But he was precisely only half lucid, half reduced to a slave of desire, and he was trembling with excitement from such a touch.

Ying Feng untied Ling Xiao’s last restraint; his somewhat cold palms directly touched the other’s hot lower body, and Ling Xiao was excited the moment he covered it. Ying Feng, who has never liked physical contact with people, didn’t repel Ling Xiao’s most private part. As expected, when it touched it, the young and soft sexual organ stood up excitedly with a delicate and smooth touch.

As for Ling Xiao, the pores all over his body opened up, and he could even imagine his hair standing on ends. An indescribable feeling came from his crotch, spreading infinitely, reaching throughout his pores. If he could hold his breath, this pleasure would stay in his body for a while, like many small electric currents accumulating, converging, and blooming in his nerves. The moment it bloomed, it turned into fearless particles, penetrating his blood vessels and colliding with his fast-flowing blood, causing a string of numbness.

“Ah……”

Ling Xiao let out an unbearable groan. At the same time, his body curled up hard and became like a shrimp. Ying Feng hardly did anything. He felt a powerful shock in his palm first, and then something spurted out. It wet his hand, and there was a regular pulsing to it. The moment Ling Xiao reached his peak, Ying Feng also enjoyed the pleasure. This pleasure didn’t come from physiology but from the satisfaction of a soul connection.

Ying Feng didn’t know how much stimulation the Qizhu’s touch would bring to the Qizi. He looked at the white stickiness in his palm in a daze. He didn’t expect Ling Xiao to surrender so quickly, and he didn’t expect that he would have such close contact with him again. He thought that the experience in the cave would be the only thing that got out of hand.

Ling Xiao, who reached his climax in a very short time, still maintained the posture he had just now. He was curled up with his arms wrapped around himself, his body limp and panting quickly, looking helpless and weak. Ying Feng had known him for ten years and had always recognized and regarded him as an opponent of comparable strength. Even after the coming-of-age ceremony, he couldn’t separate him from the domineering image of the past, and he even used the rights of the Qizhu to suppress his arrogance, just to make him bow his head for a moment.

Only at this moment, upon seeing such a vulnerable Ling Xiao, did Ying Feng feel for the first time that he was a part of the soul and no one could hurt him. The proud Ling Xiao, the Ling Xiao who liked to challenge the strong, and the Ling Xiao who remained stubbornly defiant under intimidation… They were the Ling Xiaos that everyone saw. Only at this moment, the Ling Xiao, who was immersed in the aftermath of his orgasm and completely unguarded, existed solely in his eyes.

If Ling Xiao in such a state were seen by a second person, just the thought of it stirred murderous intent in Ying Feng. If only the school could teach knowledge from the era of sovereignty establishment, Ying Feng might understand why he now couldn’t bear anyone coveting Ling Xiao even a bit—even if it was just an extra glance, for it was like stealing his very soul.

Ling Xiao’s breathing gradually evened out. He lay there motionless, his eyes tightly closed, with only the blush on his cheeks remaining. Ying Feng thought he had finally fallen asleep, so he turned to wash away the traces Ling Xiao left on his palm. Unexpectedly, just as he turned, he was grabbed from behind by the shoulder and pressed down onto the bed once more. The initiator, with agility, spun around and straddled him, his eyes radiating an intense, invasive glow, a stark contrast to his prior vulnerable appearance.

Ling Xiao’s clothing was disheveled. From Ying Feng’s perspective, other than the eyes hidden beneath the bangs, what was most pronounced was the dangerously upturned corner of Ling Xiao’s lips. Whatever the reason for Ling Xiao’s loss of control, Ying Feng was clear its effects hadn’t worn off. The only explanation he could think of was related to his own blood.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Ying Feng asked with a composed tone.

“Wolf…”

Little did Ying Feng know, the Wolfsbane people were Ling Xiao’s object of sexual awakening, especially the scene where the male lead transformed into a werewolf, which had the most significant visual impact and left a deep impression on the awakening Ling Xiao. Now, all that occupied Ling Xiao’s mind were images of werewolves mating, leaving Ying Feng clueless.

“Wolf? What wolf?”

Ling Xiao responded in an unexpected manner. Holding Ying Feng’s wrist, he licked from the right side of his neck to the palm, where Ling Xiao’s scent still lingered.

This provocative gesture made Ying Feng’s blood surge suddenly. No matter how aloof and cold he usually was, he was still a young adult at the beginning of puberty. Having tasted the forbidden fruit’s allure and being at an age full of vigor, how could he withstand such a level of stimulation? The tricks Ling Xiao learned from adult films were all new to him, a stark contrast to the sensory experience he had in that pitch-black cave, where he was on rough and coarse sandstones with a barely breathing injured person beneath him. The light in this room had a hint of ambiguity, colored pale yellow. The bed was soft and seductive. The one playing opposite him tried to challenge his self-control with seductive and enchanting actions. Perhaps because Ling Xiao was his Qizi, Ying Feng could feel the other’s desires directly and authentically. Such desires were catalyzing the adrenaline in him to react, and his body began to change unconsciously.

The gleam in Ying Feng’s eyes became perilous, looking as though he might consume Ling Xiao at any moment. However, Ling Xiao, perhaps emboldened by his desires, not only didn’t back off but instead became even bolder, taking the initiative to undress Ying Feng. Ying Feng allowed him to act recklessly without resisting.

Ling Xiao had wanted to do this for a long time, whether it was the bizarre dreams on the eve of his awakening or his bold declarations throughout the night. All of it made him yearn to pin the other down, just as he was doing now. The blood of the Qizhu, flowing from his mouth into his organs, warmed up within him. If one could say it was just a warm-up before, now it might have reached its boiling point, prompting Ling Xiao to act out of character. This was different from the aphrodisiac effect Ying Feng once used to humiliate him. Aphrodisiacs only affect one physically, and if the heart was unwilling, one could resist with gritted teeth. However, blood could indeed alter one’s actions. Just like Ling Xiao at this moment, audaciously passionate and wildly unlike his usual self.

With Ling Xiao taking the initiative and Ying Feng’s cooperation, the two were almost completely exposed to each other. Ling Xiao’s actions became increasingly provocative, pushing Ying Feng to the brink of his patience. Finally, when Ling Xiao deliberately reached behind himself, Ying Feng lost control, forcefully flipping Ling Xiao a full 180 degrees. Yet Ling Xiao, unwilling to be outdone, managed to push back with equal force. The two rolled back and forth on the bed multiple times, finally both falling to the floor. Ying Feng’s long and muscular arms tightly pinned Ling Xiao beneath him, no longer allowing any mischief.

Ling Xiao struggled, refusing to submit. In response, Ying Feng grabbed him and pushed him to the edge of the bed, with both of Ling Xiao’s arms pinned behind him and held securely in place. Ling Xiao resisted with all his might, but how could he be a match for his Qizhu? His bare body squirmed continuously, with an evidently stiff object pressing against him. Ying Feng’s lips were almost touching Ling Xiao’s hairline, and the breath from his whispered words felt sharp as a blade.

“You asked for this!”

The moment Ying Feng entered, Ling Xiao let out an abnormal, wailing roar. The body of a Qizi would open up to its Qizhu at all times, and the sound was obviously not due to pain.

Ying Feng had a moment of hesitation due to this sound, not knowing if he should proceed. Ling Xiao’s body was still as tight and hot as it was the first time, tempting Ying Feng to give up the idea of not wanting to do it and do what a normal, developing youth should do.

Ling Xiao felt his body being penetrated, and even though it was fundamentally different from the scenes in his sexual fantasies, it still possessed another kind of sensation—a kind of pleasure that overrode the fantasies. The newly endowed soul fragments in his body excitedly moved with joy, as if they had met their original masters, and the pain of separation over the past few days swept away, desperately converging in a certain direction. An electric shiver spread from the contact area, and Ling Xiao couldn’t help but tremble, only for this excitement to be mistaken for fear by Ying Feng, who ended the action instead.

The feeling of being strangled was not a pleasant one, and coupled with the power of the Qizhu’s blood, which was comparable to the effect of burning embers, Ling Xiao didn’t resist as strongly as Ying Feng expected, but instead took the initiative to sway his hips back and forth to express his pent-up desire.

On the surface, it looked like Ying Feng’s position was coercive, but below the waist, it was Ling Xiao who was in control of the initiative, and the amplitude of his swaying became rougher and stronger until it stimulated Ying Feng to let out a low growl that he couldn’t hold back, and he continued to clasp both of Ling Xiao’s wrists with one hand and forcefully press the other party’s head to the edge of the bed with his other hand, as if only this kind of beastly and violent behavior could illustrate how far away from rationality he had already departed from at this moment.

Ling Xiao took the initiative only a few times. It wasn’t long until the shocking waves of impact came from behind continuously; fast enough to not allow him to think. His body was shackled in all directions, unable to move. He was like a puppet who couldn’t think, and only his sensory nerves still functioned.

Ling Xiao’s first moan and Ying Feng’s first impact were almost synchronized, and as the sound of impact continued, the moans also rose and fell. Ying Feng, who used to do whatever it took to get only a muffled grunt from Ling Xiao, finally found a way to get satisfaction more easily. Every moan from Ling Xiao would bring a wave of more violent impacts, and such an attack would often cause a higher frequency of trills. More times than not, it became indistinguishable as to who provoked who and who drove who, all because of him, all by spontaneity.

The soundproofed dormitory seemed to have been prepared for such a scene from the very beginning, trapping all kinds of shameful sounds firmly between the four directions. The soundwaves ignited the oxygen, and the room temperature skyrocketed. The two people in different positions shared the common feeling of having difficulty breathing. Ying Feng had to pause his movement and put his jaw against Ling Xiao’s shoulder socket to catch his breath. He was one of the best physically among his peers, but he lost in this kind of movement that didn’t produce any displacement at all. Looking at Ling Xiao, except for the first few strokes of bravado, always existed as the bearer, but the frequency of his gasping breaths wasn’t inferior to that of Ying Feng, and the sweat that was left behind by the roots of his hair had already drenched the sheet under his head.

Feeling that Ying Feng was no longer pressing down on him so hard, Ling Xiao twisted his head over and buried himself deeply in the sheets, obviously on the verge of oxygen deprivation but still isolating himself from all air. Seeing that his behavior wasn’t quite normal, Ying Feng loosened his hand that was clasping the other party’s wrist and reached in front to touch it. Again, his hand became sticky. Only then did he realize that Ling Xiao had ejaculated again at some point.

“That’s right, you’re usually a fast runner.” Ying Feng’s words weren’t false, but in any speed-related competition, Ling Xiao would slightly outperform him, except that Ying Feng would have the advantage in terms of overall strength.

As soon as the word “fast” fell, Ying Feng realized that his lower body was being tightly clamped, and he hurriedly withdrew from Ling Xiao’s body, which saved him from “disarming” his weapon in embarrassment.

“You!”

Ying Feng looked up but saw Ling Xiao’s neck almost twist as he desperately turned back and glared fiercely at his side. What should have been a provocative expression was somewhat provocative due to the flushed cheeks and clenched lower lip. Ling Xiao didn’t even know how dangerous his expression was at the moment; he only knew that the burning object against him had hardened a few more points.

Ling Xiao stared at Ying Feng tightly; his eyes shifted from the other party’s eyebrows to Ying Feng’s collarbones, which were sexy and beautiful. Ling Xiao, who harbored some kind of undesirable thoughts towards Ying Feng, had long been thinking about it, not to mention the glistening skin due to sweat.

With his hands free, Ling Xiao raised his left arm and firmly hooked it around the back of Ying Feng’s neck, using his strength to get closer to the other side and grind his sharp teeth into the neck socket. It was as if Ying Feng was being gnawed by some kind of rodent, but he did not feel any pain; instead, he felt a bit of numbness and comfort.

But just as he was enjoying the coziness, Ling Xiao suddenly bit down hard on his upper and lower jaws, hard enough to break the skin near his collarbone. Ying Feng frowned deeply, and his head tilted to the other side as if he were dodging, but he didn’t stop Ling Xiao’s action.

Ling Xiao once again tasted blood. These two first-time adults with no knowledge of sex, ignorant of the role played by the main body fluids of the Qizi, acted in a completely capricious manner, unaware of the consequences of doing so, which was like pouring another bucket of oil on a flame that hadn’t been extinguished.

The fire of desire once again flared up in Ling Xiao’s suddenly opened eyes. He didn’t know where he found the strength to push Ying Feng in the opposite direction, causing Ying Feng’s back to slam against the edge of the bed. Immediately afterward, he raised his legs and sat on top of the other man once again. With Ying Feng half leaning on the bed, he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to do anything out of the ordinary.

Just when Ying Feng didn’t know what had gotten into him, Ling Xiao lifted his hips to hold Ying Feng’s penis and sat down on it of his own accord. Ying Feng instinctively wrapped his arms around Ling Xiao’s waist for fear that he might cause some kind of tragedy if he didn’t sit up straight.

Ling Xiao, who was so active as to be perverse, moved his waist and hips up and down before he could sit still. His youthful body swayed in front of Ying Feng, creating phantoms and unprecedented visual stimulation. Ling Xiao’s sudden enthusiasm made Ying Feng almost unable to hold back. His sensitive lower body was tightly bitten and repeatedly fiddled with, hot and warm, like a flying fairy. Ying Feng’s hands clasped Ling Xiao’s waist more and more forcefully, but his upper body relaxed and leaned back due to the extreme pleasure, with an insatiable expression on his face.

Ling Xiao had obviously learned this position from a movie, and the expression on Ying Feng’s face was just like the one in it. Ling Xiao’s hand on his shoulder slowly moved up his neck, all the way to the side of Ying Feng’s face. Ying Feng seamlessly gave a response, rubbing his cheek in his palm and gently nibbling on his palm, following his earlier actions. This beautiful image seemed more suitable to be permanently preserved in a static form, and Ling Xiao subconsciously slowed down his movements as Ying Feng’s hand reached behind his back, feeling the smoothness of the other man’s skin from the top down, and the stimulation brought by wherever he went caused Ling Xiao to uncontrollably tilt forward, while his neck and head tilted back uncontrollably, creating a graceful arc.

When Ying Feng was approaching the midway point, he suddenly withdrew his hand, and Ling Xiao, who was already on the verge of collapsing, lunged in the opposite direction and pressed himself heavily against Ying Feng. Their upper bodies stuck together without any gaps, their skin rubbing against each other, their sweat fusing with each other, and even their rising and falling chests tacitly maintaining the same frequency. In contrast to his slow motion, Ying Feng tightly squeezed Ling Xiao’s resilient ass and quickly bounced up and down. Ling Xiao was so weak and shaken that he entrusted all of his weight on Ying Feng’s body. The waves from the repeated collisions in the depths of his body almost drove him crazy, and his moans became louder and louder, tickling Ying Feng’s ears.

Once again, Ying Feng’s eyes rested on the other party’s shaking ear. Just like the first time in the cave, it was as if it was filled with some kind of magic that made him want to get closer, making him unable to stop himself from moving over and biting Ling Xiao’s earlobe.

Ling Xiao winced, and his muscles contracted involuntarily. This time, Ying Feng didn’t withdraw his sword but aimed it at the center of the target with full force, shooting several shots. Ling Xiao’s soul was almost knocked out of his body by Ying Feng, and the violent beating of his heart made him think that he would die of excitement. His ten fingers clasped Ying Feng’s neck from the back desperately, as if it were so that he wouldn’t fly away.

Ying Feng was immersed in the aftermath of his excitement, his mouth unconsciously playing with Ling Xiao’s earlobe. His face showed an unusual warmth that even he himself didn’t realize.

Ling Xiao’s lower body received too much stimulation, and it was only after a long while that he was able to take care of his ears. Ying Feng’s actions made him feel itchy. He took the initiative to avoid it, but Ying Feng chased after him, so he had no choice but to turn his head over, and their mouths came close to touching each other, and without stopping his movements out of inertia, he caught Ling Xiao’s lips in one go. Ling Xiao froze for a moment, but the ensuing coolness doused the flames within his body, and in a blink of an eye, he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

As Ying Feng kissed and kissed, he realized that Ling Xiao had gradually stopped moving and pushed away to see that he had fallen into a deep sleep at some point. The person who had just excitedly taken the initiative to ride on top of him to show off his strength was sleeping soundly in the blink of an eye. This change in his behavior was also beyond Ying Feng’s comprehension.

Easily carrying Ling Xiao back to the bed, the naked Ying Feng had no intention of covering himself and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at Ling Xiao’s sleeping face in a daze. Dr. Yao had instructed him to make sure that Ling Xiao got enough sleep tonight, so he didn’t know if this was considered mission accomplished. But for him, this was the second wrong step following the first wrong step in the cave, and whether there would be a third or fourth… Ying Feng, who was always firm about the future, was suddenly at a loss for words.

The clothes of the two were messily piled up on the side. Ying Feng casually reached out, grabbing something hard, and quickly realized it was the token he always kept in his jacket pocket. Through the layer of cloth, the object felt particularly hot to the touch. Startled, Ying Feng let the clothes fall to the ground.

He buried his face deeply in his hands, feeling as though he had ventured down a path where everything was wrong. He felt he had lost the right to search for his other half from his previous life. Even his present Qizi seemed to have suffered emotional trauma because of him. His life had barely reached its tenth year, and yet it seemed to be forcibly stamped with a huge mark of failure, a failure that would last a lifetime.

In contrast to Ying Feng, who was immersed in post-passionate desolation, Ling Xiao seemed to have let everything go, sleeping soundly without a care in the world. After enduring three nights of painful insomnia, he finally got to enjoy a dreamless sleep. In stark contrast was Ying Feng, who tossed and turned the entire night. It was only as the sun began to rise that, in the dim morning light, he vaguely decided on the direction for his next step.


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