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.
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?
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.”
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…”
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.
Anakin’s palms were sweaty. She ignored Solo, who was trying to whisper to her, her eyes occasionally sweeping over the line that read “Player Privileges”.
To sign or not to sign? …The punishment was too excessive. Honestly, she didn’t want to sign, but did she have a choice?
There were two handsome NPCs in front of her, one of which had a gentle and shy expression but could directly “deprive Player Privileges”; the other one, with a smile more enchanting than a succubus, could bind them with golden thread and slice them into thin meats for dumplings. After such an ordeal, she would definitely have handsome-guy PTSD.
Stay calm and think carefully.
The requirements of the covenant and the quest’s “one problem” were almost overlapping. If it was just assisting in saving the succubus tribe, it was beneficial for them.
Keeping the secret of the Mad Monk… seemed to be no problem either.
Most Players were staunch atheists, regardless of whether the local religion was disgraceful or not. Moreover, the Mad Monk hadn’t killed any Players. Anakin’s bottom line was somewhat flexible on this aspect.
What she cared more about was whether the phrase “we might become friends” was related to the “goodwill of a certain existence” in the quest reward?
Anakin would never have made such a ridiculous guess before, but the black-haired young man could even take away Players Privileges, so this was hard to say.
In any case, that guy wasn’t someone they could afford to offend.
Anakin extended her hand. Magical power condensed at her fingertips, and she decisively signed her name. Seeing her do it, Solo also signed his name without hesitation.
“Thank you both for your cooperation. Let me reintroduce myself. You can call me Nol.” Nol bowed slightly. “Next, please do us a small favor—please get the Investigation Knights to leave here as soon as possible. They don’t need to withdraw too far. Just out of the Black Forest will do.”
It seems that these two are still constrained by the Investigation Knights! Rogue Solo sighed in relief. However, Nol’s next words shattered his illusion—
“This is also for their safety,” Nol said. “I don’t want to be enemies with the Temple of Life so soon.”
Anakin, Solo: “.…..”
Anakin: “I understand. Is there anything else we need to do?”
“Yes,” Nol said. “Please witness till the end.”
After dealing with the Players, Nol locked himself in the bedroom.
This time he didn’t even ask the succubi for parchment but directly drew traces in the air with blue fire. Countless formulas and numbers floated gently, like decaying debris drifting deep underwater.
Nol sat at the bottom of this vortex, holding a staff burning with blue flame, as quiet as whale bones half-covered in mud.
Teest closed the door gently, leaving the focused Nol alone in the room. He quietly closed the door behind him, and the originally curled and shaking tail fell down.
Teest could feel Nol’s anger.
This time his anger was like magma beneath a volcano—more restrained and more dangerous. And he himself was like a beautiful vase standing on the edge of a table, half hanging in the air. Just a gentle touch, and he could return to a safe area or fall and shatter.
It was hard to look away.
…Should he push him down or push him back?
The vase filled with blue flowers, shining beautifully, would probably make a pleasant sound when it shatters. The blooming flowers falling into the crimson liquid would began to wither and rot from that moment. The smooth curves would turn into sharp fragments, creating a fascinating contrast. Teest was quite tempted.
But if he did that, he would never see those flowers again. It was truly difficult.
In the deserted corridor, Teest leaned against the door, struggling seriously for a long time.
In the end, he opened the window opposite the door and jumped into the eternal and unchanging mist. He didn’t turn back to open that door.
…..
In a certain cave, Ma Zhigang was curled up asleep on a hard stone slab.
He was accustomed to sleeping in this position. In his early years, moving from relative to relative, he could only sleep wherever space was temporarily made for him. From window sills without mattresses to creaky sofa beds, he knew well how to make himself comfortable.
He dreamed of a time not long ago—
Ma Zhigang sat in a spacious and grand office. Above his head hung calligraphy filled with flowing, elegant script. The furniture was custom-made from high-quality wood and painted with shiny lacquer. The water ornament on the desk had been specifically chosen by a feng shui master, and the money tree by the window was particularly vibrant.
He wasn’t yet sixty, in the prime of life, and he especially loved the cautious looks the younger people gave him.
The phone on the desk vibrated twice. It was a WeChat message from his daughter.
His daughter, Ma Moli, attended the best undergraduate programs domestically and then pursued her master’s degree at a renowned university abroad. Active and filial, she made the Ma family very proud.
However, there was one bad thing—since she got married, she had become more and more sensitive.
[Moli: Dad, I checked his cellphone yesterday, and he was making dirty jokes with his female colleagues.]
Ma Zhigang frowned and sent a voice message. “Did he sleep with her?”
His daughter instantly replied.
[Moli: No, but this isn’t the first or second time. Dad, I just got pregnant!]
“If he didn’t sleep with her, then just control him better,” Ma Zhigang said.
[Moli: I kind of want a divorce.]
Ma Zhigang felt a headache coming on. “Why are you so impulsive? He hasn’t slept with anyone and hasn’t solicited whores. Why are you making a fuss?”
Not long ago, the department Ma Moli worked in was dissolved by the company. Around the same time, she found out she was pregnant and had to stay at home.
Since then, his daughter became more and more neurotic, complaining either about “the in-laws thinking she is wasting money by hiring a nanny”, “her husband’s relatives overstaying their welcome at home”, or about “her husband talking too much with female colleagues”, or “being upset because she can’t find a job recently”.
Ma Zhigang thought for a while and sent a few more voice messages.
“You’re intelligent. You can make your marriage work. I don’t believe my daughter, who’s so highly educated, can’t control her husband.”
“If you want to work, wait until you have the child. With your qualifications, there should be no problem. If you can’t make it, what about those who are less qualified? Are they begging for food with golden bowls*?”
*Metaphor referring to not utilizing one’s own capabilities and instead begging for help from others. You have good objective conditions but are unable to solve your life problems despite that.
This time, Ma Moli took a long time before replying, “I know.”
After that, Ma Moli really did complain less.
Sometimes, she would just ask if they could have a meal together. Sometimes Ma Zhigang would agree, but more often, he would refuse. His factory was extremely busy, and he wanted to earn money for a few more years.
His daughter would be fine. She was intelligent. Not to brag, but Ma Moli’s living conditions were better than 90% of the girls in the country. Once she had her child, she wouldn’t have so much idle time to worry about these trivial things.
Until one day, she sent another message.
[Moli: I checked his cellphone yesterday, and he’s still chatting with his female colleague. His parents said it’s my problem…]
Here we go again. Ma Zhigang replied routinely, “Did he sleep with her?”
Ma Moli’s reply came late.
[Moli: How about having dinner together tomorrow? I want to talk to you.]
“I have a meeting tomorrow. If you have something to say, just say it,” Ma Zhigang said. “If it’s about those trivial things, talk to your peers.”
It took a long time before Ma Moli responded.
[Moli: Dad, do you love me?]
Ma Zhigang paused for a moment. “What nonsense are you thinking about every day? You’re a mother, don’t you know? Who do you think I am working so hard for at this age?”
Ma Moli didn’t send another reply.
That was the last thing she said in this world.
Ma Zhigang didn’t understand. His daughter had a life of luxury; happier than any woman he had seen in his early years. Now she even had her own child. Wasn’t it said that mothers are strong? Why did she give up?
His daughter was clearly cheerful and strong, just like him. And he had suffered much more than her. Why did she give up?
Ma Zhigang couldn’t work anymore. He pondered this during the day, and at night, when he couldn’t sleep, he continued to ponder. He hadn’t shed a tear, but his hair visibly turned white quickly.
After the incident, his son-in-law moved out with the child. Ma Zhigang moved into his daughter’s room, paranoid about every mark on the wall. He sat in the security booth of Joy Garden, staring at the spot where his daughter fell every day.
Over a year had passed, and he still couldn’t understand why, and he didn’t know who to ask.
…Until he came to this absurd world.
During his escape, Ma Zhigang accidentally discovered the succubus queen hidden deep in the forest.
She looked nothing like Ma Moli, except for those eyes. Those eyes were too similar. The last time he had a meal with his daughter, Ma Moli had the same eyes.
Those eyes were blank, seemingly looking at people but also elsewhere. The pupils moved like unlubricated gears, almost creaking.
So Ma Zhigang stopped. He really did want an answer, he thought. Maybe this girl knew something.
When he occasionally fell asleep, he still dreamt like this of the past. In his dream, he held his phone, and his daughter on the other side of the screen was waiting for his reply.
Dad, can we have dinner together tomorrow?
Dad, do you love me?
Dad…
He saw his little daughter running to him, holding her test paper, her face full of pride.
…Dad, I got a perfect score!
He smiled at her; a warm, broad smile.
When Ma Zhigang woke up, the smile on his face hadn’t faded. He saw the silver hair tips and instantly sprung up, rolling and crawling.
“It seems you had a good dream,” Teest said.
At his side, the current queen, Wilimina, was firmly bound in place by golden threads. She didn’t struggle at all, like a breathing corpse. Her light golden hair was extremely dry, and her silver eyes were murky and lightless.
“I’ve always been curious about what ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ looks like. I must say, I really didn’t expect this,” Teest said pleasantly, his gaze sweeping over the Succubus Queen’s head.
The so-called crown was nothing but a light red petal hidden among her hair. It appeared and disappeared among her hair, exuding a lively and playful vitality that was completely unobtrusive. The necklace was a pink line near the collarbone, looking like the imprint of a few small flowers, as if the wearer had just taken a nap in the flowers.
Two earrings turned into two small red moles on her snowy white skin, lightly dotting her earlobes, bright as two beads of blood.
If he hadn’t known that the queen was wearing a full set of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, even Teest would find it hard to see that she was wearing jewelry. They blended seamlessly with her, hidden in breathtaking details, full of unique charm.
However, considering that the Succubus Queen was essentially a living skeleton, this charm was significantly discounted. Teest withdrew his gaze immediately upon touching her, showing obvious disinterest.
“How… How did you do it? Why are you alright?” Uncle Ma exclaimed in shock. “That set is cursed!”
“Cursed?” Teest asked curiously.
“The curse that makes everyone go crazy.” Ma Zhigang looked up and down at Teest. “How come you have no reaction?”
“Don’t you also have no reaction?” Teest shrugged.
“How could I not! I can’t help but see her as my daughter. I can’t leave her alone. According to her, I am already in the best situation,” Uncle Ma muttered, “and you only glanced at her!”
“A bit of resistance, strict training, and a clear mind.”
Teest casually played with the golden threads between his fingers. “I was also affected. She actually ranks second on my ‘It Would Be a Pity If They Died’ list.”
Uncle Ma stared dumbfoundedly at Teest, but it was the corpse-like queen who took the initiative to speak.
“You’re not a succubus of the Black Forest.” Her voice was like shredded silk, soft and rough. “…Why are you looking for me?”
“Your brethren all want to take you back.” Teest didn’t answer her question but spoke his mind.
The current queen shuddered instantly, showing a fearful expression. She finally looked like a living being. “No, I’m not going back… I don’t want to see them…”
Teest sighed. “That’s what I was worried about. If you two run around at a critical moment, it would be troublesome.”
The queen, with her lifeless eyes, stared at Teest, who squatted in front of her.
“Indeed, the so-called curse is ‘being madly adored by everyone’,” Teest said softly. “It’s quite close to what I guessed… My poor husband is probably still wondering what went wrong.”
His Mr. Lich knew all but was oblivious to the dark side of everything.
For succubi, a race even more dependent on social interactions than humans, “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” could only be a curious toy and could never be worn for long.
The one who was madly adored by everyone was destined to be an illusion. Regardless of how perfect it seemed, an illusion was just an illusion. The one enveloped by the illusion and “being forgotten by everyone”, were no different—even if a donkey wore “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, it could receive undifferentiated love from everyone.
Everyone was looking at you, but no one saw you. Family, friends, lovers… all their faces turned into a bottomless well. Whether desperately asking for help, passionate confessions, or nonsensical screams, the well only echoed the same response.
From the moment she wore “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, the Queen of the Succubi permanently exiled herself.
Enduring pain on one side to protect her tribe and suffering terrible loneliness within her tribe on the other. Wasn’t this also a curse?
The queen slouched in the dim cave, her robe dirty and her tail lifeless in the sand. She neurotically scratched her neck, where the skin seemed to be broken repeatedly, and fresh, white flesh protruded beneath the layers of scabs.
“I won’t go back. I won’t go back.” She murmured while scratching, her fingers twitching as if restraining the urge to rip off that necklace. “I won’t go back. I can’t stand their gazes…”
“Alright, alright, you won’t go back.”
Uncle Ma, bypassing Teest, approached the queen. Ma Zhigang cautiously retracted his limbs, letting the queen lean on his shoulder.
“If you don’t want to go back, we won’t go back,” he said, like coaxing a child. “You’ve done enough for them. You’ve tried your best… Just live and sleep if you want!”
The queen’s breathing became steadier. Her eyes widened, and tears slowly soaked Uncle Ma’s overalls.
“You must be exhausted after all this time.” Uncle Ma’s voice softened. “It’s okay, it’s okay… My girl doesn’t have to be afraid of anything…”
At the moment she heard the term “my girl”, a hint of despair flashed in the queen’s eyes. But she pressed it down and slowly closed her eyes.
“Please, don’t take me back.” She stuffed a bud of bewilderment grass into her mouth, murmuring towards Teest. “I will maintain the magic to the end. I will protect everyone… I’ve sworn… Let me be alone at the end…”
Teest stood up and looked down at the thin body at his feet. In this state, the queen indeed wouldn’t live past two months. If she was forcibly taken back to her tribe by other succubi, whether she could last two weeks was even more uncertain.
The queen stretched her twig-like arm, reaching imploringly towards Teest’s barefoot. The moment her fingers touched his skin, she abruptly opened her eyes wide, her face completely distorted by fear.
“You’re not a succubus!”
She withdrew her hand as if she had touched a hot iron, hissing. “You-you clearly don’t have succubus blood, yet you have the power of a succubus… You’re an Eternalist! You’re a Supplement Demon!”
The queen raised her head, trembling all over, her voice unusually sharp.
“This power… How many of my kind have you eaten? Monster! You disgusting monster…”
“How rude.” Teest withdrew his bare foot. He bent down, his fingertip touching the queen’s forehead.
In the blink of an eye, the queen was dragged into a dreamland, completely falling into a deep sleep. She slumped to the ground with only faint breaths remaining from her chest.
Uncle Ma hadn’t been in this other world for long. His knowledge only extended to things like “the Demon King’s minions” that he had encountered. He subconsciously hugged the queen, staring at Teest, puzzled and vigilant.
“Alright, I originally came here to do this. You both just stay here peacefully.”
Teest patted the dust off his clothes and said in a relaxed tone, “I put her into a deep dream. People in this state can’t be awakened carelessly. I advise you not to move her—well, if you don’t care about her life or death, you can try.”
“What if the Demon King’s minions find us?” Uncle Ma shouted.
Teest seriously thought for a few seconds. “Consider yourself unlucky.”
“You—”
“Don’t worry. You won’t have to wait too long.” Teest smiled brilliantly. “Nol has said he will give a solution within two days. He always keeps his word. Promise me, can you be not so unlucky?”
Uncle Ma gritted his teeth.
Teest stretched a bit and turned to leave.
“Wait.”
As Teest was about to leave the cave, Ma Zhigang tried to stop him. “You seem to be not surprised at all by her condition. Can you understand why she… doesn’t want to live?”
Teest continued walking as if he hadn’t heard.
“Please, tell me.” Uncle Ma’s voice became a bit hoarse. “I can’t understand my daughter, and I can’t understand her either. She’s a queen. Her life is much better than others’.”
“Just a lack of some care, how did it become like this? I can’t understand. She said other succubi don’t understand either…”
“Swear to cooperate with us.” Teest finally stopped without turning back.
Ma Zhigang looked at the sleeping succubus queen and gave a wry smile. “I swear.”
“Most people live to pursue an answer,” Teest said. “What will happen tomorrow, who will meet, whether important people are doing well… or confused about something or want to find out the truth.”
“You seem very persistent in figuring out why she doesn’t want to live. Isn’t this the answer you’re pursuing, no?” There was a hint of amusement in Teest’s voice. “Then imagine yourself after knowing the answer.”
Knowing why his daughter ended her life? What about afterward?
His daughter was really gone. He certainly couldn’t get custody of his grandchildren, his future life was destined to be alone, and he couldn’t figure out what he wanted to do… He never thought about the future, and he didn’t expect anything in the future.
Ma Zhigang stood still.
Teest continued timely, “Your daughter and the queen? I guess they either got the answers or didn’t have the strength to ask anymore.”
“You understand these things very well.” After a long time, Uncle Ma said hoarsely.
His voice involuntarily softened. This young man could understand these things. He must have suffered a lot and felt empathetic. Perhaps his judgment of this person was somewhat rash. He—
“Of course I understand. To completely destroy a person, you have to know where a person’s will to live is,” Teest said casually. “I have been taught this many times.”
Having said that, with a flash of his silver hair, he disappeared from Ma Zhigang’s sight like a ghost.
……
Teest adjusted his expression for a moment before opening the door to the bedroom.
The time was almost right, so what surprise had his Mr. Lich prepared for him?
The moment he opened the door, a large wolf snout thrust out. Its cold nose forcefully rubbed against Teest’s face, leaving his face covered in snout moisture.
Teest: “…………….”
Teest: “Honey, didn’t you say this thing couldn’t come in?”
Behind the night-like black fur, Nol squeezed out. “My… cough, the magic just succeeded, but to bring in something bigger, we need your succubus trait to help…”
He was panting, also squeezed by the shadow wolf. That lava-like anger had vanished without a trace.
It seemed that Nol used a method similar to [Travel Through Dreams] to pull the shadow wolf in. Shadow Wolf Ben, indeed, could serve as a helping force. But to deal with so many Thousand-Hands Nightmares, the shadow wolf wasn’t enough—even if it had mysteriously grown a lot bigger, it couldn’t withstand the trampling of thousands of monsters.
“You need to summon something bigger.” Teest wiped his face carefully and confirmed again.
“Yes, come with me quickly. The best time is approaching!” Nol grabbed Teest’s wrist and ran with him towards the forest.
Teest, confused, pushed aside branches and followed Nol for a while. Around the two, a light purple fog rolled maliciously, and Teest faintly heard the sound of coins falling to the ground.
What’s happening? Has Nol finally gone mad?
Nol stopped in a clearing, his face slightly excited.
He took out the letter opener and pierced his palm directly. The blood floated up, quickly forming one complicated magic circle after another. They extended from the ground towards the sky, forming a giant circle with a radius of six meters.
“Come.” Nol grabbed Teest’s hand, and the blood flowed down Teest’s fingers. “Let’s activate it together. I have calculated it. There’s absolutely no problem.”
Not knowing what could be summoned, Teest raised his eyebrows and extended his hand obediently. …Anyway, he had even seen the Dragon King Subelbot. Maybe Nol planned to summon a giant dragon!
Both of their palms pressed on the magic circle at the same time.
The blood circle lit up quickly, and numerous magic nodes shone brightly. The force of this magic was very gentle, unlike an attack circle or a summoning circle, Teest thought. It truly was an upgraded version of [Travel Through Dreams], a “door to the dream world”.
The surrounding space twisted and deformed. Something was trying hard to squeeze in. Finally, accompanied by a terrifying sound of space tearing, the true form of the thing revealed—
It was a tower.
A huge black tower with black tentacles growing at its base, like a giant cone snail hermit crab.
The tentacles at the base of the tower seemed to have no perception and were forcibly squeezed into the “door” that Nol opened. The tower was square and straight, with a gravestone-like heaviness, as if a pillar supporting the sky was falling.
“Nol, you didn’t…” Teest held his breath and murmured quietly.
“At this time, the stronghold the ‘Lost Tower’ just passed specific coordinates.”
Below the black tower, Nol turned around smilingly and opened his arms to Teest. “You said, if the power disparity is big enough, those monsters can stomp the succubi to death just by stepping on them.”
“It applies the other way around too, doesn’t it…?”
Nol stood up too fiercely, almost bumping into Teest, who was hugging him. Fortunately, Teest was agile enough. He dodged gracefully while his hand still rested on Nol’s shoulder.
The same kind of confusion appeared in the eyes of the two Players. They couldn’t understand why Nol was so agitated.
It was just a cursed item. Weren’t they common?
Succubus Doni showed a hint of surprise. He paused, and his voice became slightly softened. “Yes, many people share your view. ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ was personally created by Lady Hyacinth and has been kept by the rulers… The Great Queen wouldn’t curse her subjects.”
“The Red Magic Diamond used to make it was given by that human. If the human had tampered with it, Queen Hyacinth would have noticed. I personally don’t agree with the notion of a ‘curse’.”
Nol didn’t respond. He was staring intently at Doni’s withered lips, as if trying to pry more words out with his gaze.
“After the death of Queen Hyacinth, just over a hundred and fifty years ago, we said farewell to six rulers. Before Queen Hyacinth, each ruler usually ruled for one hundred to two hundred years. The only difference is that the later rulers all wore the ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’… So suspicion is inevitable.”
Succubus Doni looked slim, and his features still held the shadows of a man in his thirties, but his tone was incredibly old.
“Holy shit, aren’t you clearly letting the Mad… uh, Teest be the fuel?” Solo’s eyes were still red, and he carefully avoided looking at Teest.
This was a clumsy attempt to please, Nol judged. Like a trapped and helpless little animal, it could only tentatively lick the hand of the hunter, begging for some mercy.
The Players were his kind, and he should have felt displeased or sad for this, but Nol’s thoughts were filled with “the curse of the A Midsummer Night’s Dream”. His heart was pounding with sharp pain, barely suppressing a surge of anger.
So Nol didn’t intend to intervene in this conversation. He looked at Succubus Doni, signaling him to make it quick.
“I don’t know what you are implying. This gentleman has explicitly expressed his willingness to dedicate himself to our tribe. We even signed an additional agreement.”
Doni’s voice quickly became cold. “Not only is Lord Teest participating in the ‘Heir Selection’, everyone has sworn to give their all—the ruler’s protection must never be interrupted. It relates to the survival of the race.”
“You talk a good game*, so why don’t you do it yourself?” Solo muttered.
*What you say is better than what you sing (说的比唱的还好听) Idiom referring to although one’s words are beautiful, they are deceptive and empty.
The corner of Doni’s mouth twitched, and he sighed. “I’m already two hundred and sixty-five years old.”
Equivalent to about seventy in human years, Nol quickly calculated. The appearance of succubi ages slowly, and Doni’s appearance indeed matched.
But that wasn’t the point.
“So you have seen Queen Hyacinth.” Nol’s hands pressed on the edge of the table. His fingers slowly closed as he looked at Succubus Doni with a mixture of sorrow and longing.
Solo was completely choked by that gaze and couldn’t continue the conversation.
Back on Earth, he had seen such eyes—during elementary school, Solo had a particularly good friend who died young due to illness. Every time that child’s father looked at him, the gaze was the same as “Ross’” now.
They treat the person before them as a puzzle, futilely piecing together the shadow of the departed.
“Bring out your memories.” Teest suddenly spoke.
“No.” Doni refused sternly.
By now, from the attitudes of those two humans, this “Succubus Teest of the Shiva Tribe” didn’t seem as gentle as he appeared. But that was okay. An agreement was an agreement. Either he had to abide by it or pay the price.
“If you want to save this tribe—though I think you guys don’t have the slightest worth to be saved—hand over the memories about Queen Hyacinth. I know you can,” Teest said lightly.
“If you have questions, I am willing to answer. Memories are absolutely private, and my memories are unrelated to this matter.” Doni frowned. “Why must you peep into memories?”
“Because that will make me very happy.” Teest tapped his chin. “I will try my best to be your heir when I’m happy. If I’m unhappy, I can only break the promise—by the way, my husband is proficient in pain-relieving magic. I will just lose my legs and eyes for a while.”
“Also, my blood will stain your floor. Bloodstains are hard to clean. You should be prepared.” Teest’s tone became serious, as if this was the most frightening threat.
“What are you talking about? This isn’t a game!” Doni said in shock. “Are you going to put so many lives at the whim of your mood?”
“Aren’t you doing the same?” Teest smiled.
Lunatic. Succubus Doni stood there in shock.
This was the first time he had seen someone spout such blatant nonsense with such righteousness, and somehow making a bit of perverse sense.
He instinctively looked at Nol. The handsome black-haired youth noticed Doni’s gaze in an instant. Nol stared at him with a frightening determination burning in his eyes.
Doni slowly sat back on the stool. His face was numb for a few seconds, revealing a smile that didn’t quite seem like a smile. He tiredly raised his fingers, not even avoiding the humans he despised.
“Alright… I beg you. Save this tribe.” He sighed lightly and closed his eyes.
They were on the Dream Edge. Doni snapped his fingers, and his memories turned into scenes, appearing directly beside everyone.
Everyone saw a young girl.
The girl had satin-like golden hair, and her blue-purple eyes were like the sky at the Dream Edge. She wore no makeup, nor did she need it—like a delicate and pretty water lily, any extra adornment would be superfluous.
Succubus Queen Hyacinth.
Hyacinth wore a popular hemp dress from a human village. Her long hair was loosely tied behind her head, with a few fresh wildflowers pinned to her bun. Her gaze wasn’t as naive as that of human girls, more like a blade wrapped in sheer silk.
Only when looking at her lover would that sharp blade completely sink into the silk, leaving only softness behind.
Decoste, a similarly beautiful human youth. They walked hand in hand, talking and laughing through the Dream Edge. Everyone watched them through Doni’s eyes… They looked blissfully happy.
Nol almost reached out to them.
The young succubus Doni couldn’t get too close to the Queen. His memories of her were just fragments. A new scene bubbled up, shattering the previous illusion.
Decoste transformed from a handsome boy into a robust and handsome young man, then from a handsome young man into a mature and elegant middle-aged man. He was much taller than Hyacinth and no longer held Hyacinth’s hand. They were arm in arm instead.
Queen Hyacinth still looked like a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old girl. The unrestrained smiles on their faces were gone, replaced by worries.
…The inherent lifespan difference between the two races had already bared its fangs.
According to the arrangement of the production team, it was time for the Players to act—Players got lost in the Dream Edge, helping Hyacinth find the bewilderment grass.
Later, this pair of lovers would take the bewilderment grass, connecting their deepest desired dreams. After confirming each other’s intentions, they decided to cherish the remaining time. The Player who successfully found the bewilderment grass would receive the “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” from Hyacinth.
A sweet story tinged with a hint of sadness.
Unexpectedly to Nol, even if the Players didn’t appear, Hyacinth still issued the task of finding fresh bewilderment grass. The first to complete the task was Succubus Doni.
In his memory, this was the closest he ever got to Queen Hyacinth.
A faint worry shrouded Hyacinth’s face, but her eyes were filled with more determination. She took the fresh bewilderment grass from Succubus Doni with both hands, giving him a warm smile.
“Thank you, Adonis.” She patted his head.
The bewilderment grass was green all over, topped with dense blue-purple flowers, somewhat resembling forget-me-nots. However, its flowers were shaped like tiny hearts, appearing more sparse.
“What are you going to do with it?” Young Doni asked. “Bewilderment grass cannot be taken directly. If you need bewilderment dew…”
Hyacinth shook her head with a smile. She gently held the bouquet, beautiful like a dream itself.
“These flowers are enough, young man,” she said. “I just need to see two hearts clearly.”
That day, Decoste wasn’t by her side, and from then on, he never was again.
Why? Nol couldn’t understand.
The Players only found the bewilderment grass for the couple. Considering the varying EQ of the Players, they didn’t arrange any mandatory lines for them. The couple resolved their emotional entanglements completely on their own.
Since Hyacinth made the right choice at the right time, why… Why did they still face such an outcome?
The memories of Succubus Doni continued.
Hyacinth changed.
She was once a queen who highly valued freedom, encouraging everyone to adventure and enjoy life. Three hundred and sixty-five days a year, Hyacinth would be away from the throne for three hundred and sixty days.
But with Decoste’s disappearance, Queen Hyacinth became a true queen, accompanying that exquisite throne day and night.
She issued several directives in succession.
Uncharacteristically, she strictly forbade tribe members from interacting with humans and prohibited everyone from leaving the protection of the Dream Edge at will. At the same time, she hid the succubus lair within a dream and established the rule that “the ruler must inherit the A Midsummer Night’s Dream”.
For the disorganized succubi, this series of changes was too sudden. Everyone was extremely puzzled, and quite a few people had directly jumped out in opposition. Succubus Doni was one of them—he had just made good human friends in an outside adventure team, and they had agreed to travel together.
“You have dealings with Mr. Decoste yourself. Why do you require this of us?” In the royal court, he asked in dissatisfaction.
“Decoste won’t come here anymore,” Queen Hyacinth calmly said. “If you have heard, the Eternal Church has been targeting the succubi recently, and several groups have completely lost contact.”
“Next, our territory will enter a semi-closed state. Everyone, please form teams and take turns going out to hunt. Remember not to always take the same path.”
The succubi discussed amongst themselves. They were all young and beautiful, complementing this beautiful lair.
“So suddenly?” another succubus voiced. “Our territory is on the Dream Edge, not as exposed as theirs, and everything has been normal recently…”
“By the time we realize it’s not normal, it will be too late,” Hyacinth said. “There will be no discussion on this matter.”
“We need to know what exactly happened, Your Majesty.” Doni tried to raise his voice while maintaining politeness. “Like what we are facing, and why the next ruler has to use ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’? We need a more detailed explanation. Otherwise, it’s hard to explain to others outside.”
“I also don’t know what we will face.” Hyacinth sat on the exquisite throne, her majestic tone completely mismatching her young appearance. “But I know, it will be fatally dangerous. Maybe in the future resistance, everyone will have the chance to understand.”
The succubi looked at each other, then all looked at the queen on the throne. The confusion on their faces didn’t decrease but increased.
“As for the reason for having to use ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’? I left it on that jewelry set. The moment you wear it, you will know the reason… Dear Adonis, if you are really so curious, please strive to become the crown prince.”
Queen Hyacinth raised her leg, somewhat playfully supporting her cheek. “However, I have something to say in advance. The throne is very uncomfortable to sit on. You all have to think carefully.”
“Alright, starting tomorrow, I will wear ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’. It will become the new crown of the Black Forest Tribe.”
Nol stood in the center of the royal court, looking at Hyacinth on the throne through more than a hundred years of time.
The loving couple had already separated, but Hyacinth acted as usual. It wasn’t a pretense of strength. She sat there proudly, her eyes firm, her smile bright.
Why would such a person choose to end herself after so many years…
God knows how much Nol wanted to talk to his creation. He had too many questions for her.
What exactly have you experienced? What kind of pain have you endured? What were you thinking at the moment you left the world?
…Did you, despise this world very much?
The smiling queen was only a dozen steps away from him, but they were already separated by life and death.
He no longer had the chance to ask.
……
“As you all have seen, the Great Queen Hyacinth has protected us.”
After scouring through his memories, Doni spoke with some resentment. “If it weren’t for Lady Hyacinth overcoming all objections and insisting on early defense, the Black Forest Tribe would have been annihilated when those Nightmares attacked suddenly.”
“How can ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ be cursed? Those who wear it are all prepared to die for the tribe. We have also tested it in countless ways… It’s a treasure left by Lady Hyacinth—a proof of sacrifice…”
The room was very quiet.
“Let me see,” Nol said. “Only by wearing ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ can the truth be known, so we must win the heir selection. The victory condition is ‘bring back the mad queen’… I have only one question.”
Doni took a deep breath. “Go ahead.”
“As long as the queen returns to the tribe, it counts as ‘bringing back’, right?”
“…Yes,” Succubus Doni answered perplexedly. Isn’t this the basic definition?
“Then, if I bring you to the queen, it also counts as ‘bringing back’,” Nol said. “Good, let’s do this. Next—”
He walked towards Anakin and Solo, who were sitting dumbfounded. “It’s time to sign the agreement, friends.”
“Whatever you want to know, I won’t spill!” Solo shivered. “Ju-just kill me!”
“It’s just to supplement the original agreement.” Nol stretched out his hand indifferently, and blue fire sketched out two pieces of text in the air.
The flames burned slightly in midair. The writing was very clear. Anakin glanced at her cousin. The content of the two agreements was identical.
The agreement was concise and clear.
The four must cooperate fully to strive to save the succubus tribe. During the mission, they couldn’t harm each other.
If they could obtain the “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, these two perverted gays would give them the crown and necklace—exactly as they initially agreed.
In exchange, the two Players needed to keep two secrets. They couldn’t disclose any information related to the Mad Monk to anyone, nor could they disclose the content of this agreement to anyone.
“That’s it?” Solo lifted his head in surprise.
What kind of dream clause is this? It’s almost like giving “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” away for free. And the requirement was just to save the succubus tribe. This sounded too righteous… Had the Mad Monk been baptized by love and decided to turn back?
Anakin remained silent for a long time. Her eyes were fixed on the brief penalty for breach at the end of the agreement, and her heart was in turmoil.
Penalty for breach of contract: Revocation of “Player Permissions” of the two Players.
…Are you kidding me?
…This is way more horrifying than the Mad Monk! How could an NPC possibly deprive Players of their rights? No, why does this guy know about “Player Permissions”?!
She stiffly lifted her head to look at Nol behind the blue fire text. The latter pursed his lips at her, smiling somewhat apologetically.
“I didn’t want to bind you all so strictly,” he said, “but Teest’s identity is really special. Please understand.”
“This agreement…”
“Don’t worry. As long as the magic of the covenant passes, it means the content of the covenant is true and effective.” Nol returned to Teest’s side, looking as usual.
“Sister, there’s no restriction on that female knight above.” Solo, oblivious to the anomaly, was still whispering to Anakin. “At least, we don’t have to keep this secret.”
No, it’s not that simple. Anakin was still staring at Nol.
The point when the two NPCs turned hostile was precisely when “they found out something was off with the female knight Malvina”. She didn’t think they were unaware or indifferent to Malvina’s anomaly.
If these two didn’t specify it in the covenant, there was only one possibility—
After this matter was over, those two NPCs firmly believed that they would voluntarily keep the secret.
She couldn’t imagine at all how they planned to achieve this.
“So, what do you1 plan to do?” Anakin couldn’t help changing her form of address1. “You just asked about the definition of ‘bringing back the queen’… You have an idea, right?”
1Clarity: She started addressing them as [nin] (您), which is a formal polite way to say “you”. It’s often used as a form of respect to elders, superiors, customers, or strangers.
“Yes, this matter requires your assistance,” Nol said.
“…If this matter is resolved smoothly, we might even become friends.”
The author has something to say:
Alright, the lunatic couple is about to create a person!!!
Ready—Go!
Kinky Thoughts:
In terms of meaning, Forget-me-nots represent remembrance but also have other meanings, including true love, devotion, and royalty.
Hyacinths symbolize peace, commitment, and beauty, but also power and pride. It is also a symbol of jealousy from the Greek mythology Hyacinth.
Hyacinthus was a Spartan prince of remarkable beauty and a lover of the sun god Apollo. He was also admired by Zephyrus, the god of the West wind, Boreas, the god of the North wind and a mortal man named Thamyris. Hyacinthus chose Apollo over the others. He visited all of Apollo’s sacred lands with the god in a chariot drawn by swans. So fiercely was Apollo in love with Hyacinthus that he abandoned his sanctuary in Delphi to enjoy Hyacinthus’ company by the river Eurotas. He taught Hyacinthus the use of the bow and the lyre, the art of prophecy, and exercises in the gymnasium.
One day, Apollo was teaching him the game of quoits. They decided to have a friendly competition by taking turns to throw the discus. Apollo threw first, with a strength so great that the discus split the clouds in the sky. Eager to retrieve the discus, Hyacinthus ran behind it to catch it. But as it hit the ground, the discus bounced back, hitting Hyacinthus’ head and wounding him fatally. An alternative version of the myth holds Zephyrus responsible for the death of Hyacinthus. Jealous that Hyacinthus preferred the radiant Apollo, Zephyrus blew Apollo’s quoit boisterously off course to kill Hyacinthus.
Zhou Qian saw a line pop up in the message bar: [My body is trapped, but my spirit can enter the games. Hidden Blade is my teammate.]
Zhou Qian: [Oh.]
[137]: [So… um? Just click ‘Agree’.]
Zhou Qian: [Ah, this situation makes it very difficult for me.]
[137]: [?]
Zhou Qian: [It seemed that Hidden Blade was very sincere. Although you said you asked him to take me as a disciple, when I chatted with him, he said he admired me very much, thought I was formidable, and wanted to accept me as his disciple.]
[137]: […From what I know, that doesn’t seem to be the case.]
Zhou Qian: [What do you mean? Oh, you think I’m not formidable or qualified enough. You’re looking down on me.]
[137]: [Of course not.]
Zhou Qian: “No? Oh, if you’re not looking down on me, then it’s Hidden Blade who is. Did he badmouth me?”
[137]: [He didn’t either.]
Seeing the reply, Zhou Qian grinned mischievously.
A moment later, [137] messaged: [Zhou Qian, click ‘Agree’. I need to log off soon.]
Zhou Qian replied: [Oh, then you can log off. I have something else to do.]
[137]: […What are you up to?]
Zhou Qian: “Going to find Jiang Yuqing. I’m going to brush up on our relationship line. Bye.”
[137]: “……”
Ignoring the system panel, Zhou Qian reached out and took out a scale from his bag.
Can this scale bring the little dragon back?
Zhou Qian wasn’t sure. He tried aligning the scale to his watch but couldn’t access its function through the system.
He put the scale away and walked out to room 701 across the hall. Through the glass, Zhou Qian saw Jiang Yuqing turn over, get out of bed, walk to a bookshelf, and start reading. He looked more awake than before.
Perhaps because the players completed the mission, Jiang Yuqing began recalling some past events.
In fact, his current behavior was completely in line with the preset settings. Zhou Qian remembered the front desk mentioning that Jiang Yuqing is quiet at night, implying that players didn’t need to attend to him during the evening. During the day, players challenge levels, and at night, they rest. This was the routine for players in this particular instance.
Lost in thought, Zhou Qian glanced at the man on the bed. He tried messaging [137] again.
The system indicated [137] was offline.
Zhou Qian stared at the notification for a while, then browsed through recent chat records. He intended to bother Qi Liuxing or He Xiaowei, get updates on their situations, and introduce them. But his plan was interrupted when he noticed [Hidden Blade] was online.
Seeing this, Zhou Qian quickly messaged: [Hey, isn’t this my master?]
[Hidden Blade]: [???]
[Hidden Blade]: [We’re definitely not that kind of relationship! Stop spreading nonsense!]
Hidden Blade sent two messages consecutively. Zhou Qian calmly replied, [Weren’t you going to accept me as your disciple? Why the sudden change?]
[Hidden Blade]: [What? I clearly told you it was for a friend! I never wanted you!]
Zhou Qian: [Why does your friend go by ‘137’?]
[Hidden Blade]: [How would I know?]
Zhou Qian mischievously replied: [By the way, 137 said you’re mediocre.]
He Xiaowei has praised Hidden Blade to the skies, even swearing to take him as a master. So, wouldn’t anyone with real skill be upset upon hearing such words about themselves? How would Hidden Blade react? Were he and 137 truly good teammates and friends?
Zhou Qian didn’t expect [Hidden Blade] to reply: [What? He actually praised me as ‘mediocre’? That’s amazing! Thanks, Zhou Qian. I’ve always dreamed of his praise!]
Zhou Qian: [………]
[Now I’m going to run an instance. Let’s chat later. Please, stop calling me ‘Master’. I wouldn’t dare compete with his choice.]
After leaving that message, Hidden Blade stopped responding, probably entering the instance.
Zhou Qian raised an eyebrow and glanced at Jiang Yuqing through the glass, then returned to his room.
……
The next morning, due to having had a good rest, Zhou Qian woke up very early. While washing up, he looked in the mirror. The reflection he saw was someone he no longer recognized. For now, he completely resembled [Bei He].
Jiang Yuqing’s life had only three days left. Despite his dementia, he was reluctant to forget himself or his teammates.
After passing through two levels, his memory had been restored to the point where he could recall himself and his teammates. As a result, in the world of memories, the appearances of those teammates, including Jiang Yuqing himself, became clear. Moreover, having cleared a high difficulty level, the players even achieved a hidden achievement—making Jiang Yuqing remember that all his teammates had sacrificed themselves in Cypress City.
So… what could Jiang Yuqing’s third wish be?
Could it be a desire for Bei He to be resurrected? Even if it’s just a false resurrection in the memory world?
While pondering all of this, Zhou Qian didn’t immediately go to Room 701 to find Jiang Yuqing. Instead, he headed to the elevator and went to the ground floor lobby. The hall was empty. The security, receptionists, and other caretakers were all gone.
It seemed that only Zhou Qian and the elderly Jiang Yuqing remained in this entire building.
The main door was wide open, and the sunlight and green lawn outside seemed to be beckoning Zhou Qian to leave this false world, abandon the side mission, and return to reality.
Zhou Qian slowly walked to the door, looking at the enticing green grass. However, after a deep breath towards the sunlight, he resolutely turned around and headed for the elevator.
Inside the elevator, the buttons for the other floors still seemed fake, unable to be pressed. Zhou Qian tried a few and then returned to the seventh floor. This time, he went straight to room 701.
Inside room 701, the elderly Jiang Yuqing was reading. As Zhou Qian knocked and entered, Jiang Yuqing looked up and smiled at him.
Zhou Qian glanced at the table, which was empty. He wondered if Jiang Yuqing had eaten the osmanthus cake from yesterday or simply forgotten about it.
After a few steps into the room, Zhou Qian asked Jiang Yuqing, “Do you still remember me?”
At first, Jiang Yuqing nodded, but then his gaze became a bit distant, and he shook his head.
Suddenly, something caught Zhou Qian’s peripheral vision. He noticed that the blue and white porcelain vase on the bedside table had disappeared right before his eyes.
So, the elderly Jiang Yuqing was still “killing” objects in the memory world.
As Zhou Qian looked back at Jiang Yuqing, he saw him yawn, put down his book, and head towards the bed. He was about to go to sleep, indicating that the next level was about to begin.
Zhou Qian quickly called out, “Mr. Jiang, wait.”
He took out a piece of the osmanthus cake he had taken from the lobby two days ago and handed it to Jiang Yuqing. As expected, Jiang Yuqing was still very interested in it and began to eat.
After temporarily preventing Jiang Yuqing from sleeping, Zhou Qian turned to the photos on the wall. The images of the four people were clearer now—they were the players who successfully completed the main quest and survived. His gaze passed over each one, finally settling on the young officer in the photo.
Touching the photo, a familiar sensation came over him. Through that cold, damp touch, Zhou Qian was transported again to that dreamlike scene—Jiang Yuqing writing poetry by candlelight. The first time Zhou Qian touched this photo, he felt an uncommon surge of emotion—a deep-seated sadness that nearly took his breath away.
At this moment, Zhou Qian finally understood where this sadness came from. In the dream, Jiang Yuqing was sad while writing the letter. Bei He was dead, and no one would receive his letter. Jiang Yuqing’s heartfelt letter could only be sent by burning it, a way to express his sorrow.
“Jiang Yuqing, do you remember me? I’m Bei He.” In the dream, Zhou Qian spoke to the man bathed in soft light.
Upon hearing this, Jiang Yuqing immediately looked up, his eyes filled with joy. “Bei He! You’re here? How… why are you here…”
Unlike previous dreams where the handsome officer’s features were always vague, this time the light illuminated his handsome face, which was a sight to behold. After a moment, he looked down, finished writing the letter, folded it, and placed it near the candle flame.
But this time, before he could burn the letter, Zhou Qian promptly spoke up to stop him, saying, “Were you writing to me? ‘Night Rain Addressed to the North’… is the ‘North’ referring to me?”
Jiang Yuqing seemed to be caught off guard by the question, his ears reddening. He quickly hid the letter. “You’re talking nonsense,” he stammered.
Zhou Qian extended his hand with a smile. “Don’t burn it. Give it to me. I’m right here.”
“You… You…”
Was there an opportunity for the unspoken words to be voiced? Those covert and ambiguous feelings—would he ever understand?
Jiang Yuqing hesitated but eventually handed over the letter as Zhou Qian had asked.
In this illusory environment, the scene was always bathed in a dim yellow glow of antiquity. It seemed to be raining outside, and the room was filled with dampness.
Zhou Qian felt as though he was standing under warm, hazy candlelight while Jiang Yuqing was slowly approaching him, ready to hand over the letter. But just as Jiang Yuqing was within reach, just when Zhou Qian felt the touch of his fingertips—
Jiang Yuqing suddenly withdrew his hand. Tears appeared to form in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Zhou Qian asked.
Jiang Yuqing shook his head in sadness and despair. “It’s not real. It’s my fantasy. You… you died… in Cypress City… I’m dreaming again.”
Zhou Qian squinted, not pressing him to hand over the letter but instead asking, “How did I die?”
“Bei He, you—” Jiang Yuqing choked back tears and seemed to recall some painful memories. Taking a seat, he covered his heart, his shoulders trembling.
The current Jiang Yuqing looked genuinely pitiable. But Zhou Qian, without mercy, pressed, “Jiang Yuqing, you must tell me. I’m trapped in hell and can’t remember how I died. If this continues, I fear I won’t be able to be reborn!”
“You—! You were a hero. How could this happen?” Jiang Yuqing looked at Zhou Qian in horror.
Zhou Qian responded, “Then tell me the truth.”
After a moment, Jiang Yuqing gave Zhou Qian the answer he sought. Observing his surroundings, Zhou Qian noted that with the restoration of some of his memories, the environment seemed clearer.
He could now see the details of the room, like the kettle, cups, trinkets, and paintings, all of which showed signs of an older era.
Turning to Jiang Yuqing, Zhou Qian asked, “What era is this? Have we won?”
Jiang Yuqing clenched his fist and nodded. “We won! Everything is fine now. There’s no war. I… I’ve aged.”
Zhou Qian laughed. “No, you haven’t aged a bit, still as dashing as ever.”
Hearing this, Jiang Yuqing’s eyes turned dazed again. “Are you just a figment of my imagination, or have you really come from the underworld to see me?”
At that moment, Zhou Qian heard a sound from outside this illusory world. It was the older Jiang Yuqing getting up to go to bed.
Seizing the last moments, Zhou Qian looked at the man in the illusion. “I want to ask you one last question.”
Jiang Yuqing nodded. “Ask.”
Zhou Qian’s question was brutal. “All of your trusted comrades, including me, died. They all died protecting you. Do you feel guilty?”
“If you were to live the rest of your life alone, what would your truest wish be?”
Five minutes later, Zhou Qian was outside room 701. Behind him, he could hear Jiang Yuqing’s deep breathing, indicating he was asleep. Zhou Qian took one last glance at him and then turned the doorknob, stepping into a new scene.
It was a dark, narrow corridor that barely allowed one person to pass through. Zhou Qian could only judge this because of the light seeping through the slightly ajar door of room 701.
But as the door closed, the corridor plunged into complete darkness. Unsure of any lurking dangers, Zhou Qian didn’t turn on the light but lifted his left wrist to access the system panel.
In this game, all NPCs could only act according to the predetermined plot. One noticeable thing was that the system seemed to have set it up so that the NPCs wouldn’t react to the player’s watch or system panel.
Furthermore, only the player could see their own system panel and couldn’t view those of others. But when the system interface popped up from the watch into the air, there was a faint glow visible only to the player’s eyes, though this light was very dim.
Therefore, at this moment, Zhou Qian was using the extremely faint light from the system panel to explore the corridor.
Zhou Qian didn’t immediately move forward. Instead, he turned around to look behind him.
The door to Room 701, which was originally here, had disappeared. Zhou Qian cautiously moved forward in the pitch-black environment and unexpectedly touched a wall with his outstretched hand.
He knocked on it and found it solid. This meant there was no way forward in this direction, and he would have to turn and go another way.
However, Zhou Qian didn’t turn around immediately. He stood still, raised his watch, looked up, and tried to push upwards. But above him, there was also a solid wall. So, at least from where he stood, there was no way out.
Naturally, there was a reason why Zhuo Qian tried to push upwards.
From the current information, the elder Jiang Yuqing was the one intending to kill the players, while the younger Jiang Yuqing was the opposite.
In the side mission “Checks and Balance”, Room 701 always existed, and players could return to the room at any time to view the photo. The photo triggered illusions that allowed the young Jiang Yuqing to provide clues.
But from the “West Pier” mission onward, Room 701 disappeared.
Therefore, if the young Jiang Yuqing from the illusions could still provide clues to help the players, it would most likely only be before the official start of the mission.
At that time, Zhou Qian would use the osmanthus cake to distract the elder Jiang Yuqing, preventing him from falling asleep, and then enter the illusion to seek out the younger Jiang Yuqing for clues.
The current side mission was called “Night Rain Addressed to the North”. It was undoubtedly a story that revolved around the two main characters, Bei He and Jiang Yuqing.
So, most of Zhou Qian’s questions in the illusion were related to Bei He. One of the critical questions was about Bei He’s real cause of death.
In West Pier, the young Jiang Yuqing witnessed his comrades turning into ghosts, realizing that they had all died. He should also have remembered the true cause of Bei He’s death.
Indeed, in the illusion, Jiang Yuqing recounted the story with profound sadness. It was during the invasion of Cypress City that the Falcon Squadron risked everything to find him and then tried to break out with him. However, during their escape, all five comrades died, leaving only Bei He to flee with Jiang Yuqing.
The two managed to escape into underground tunnels under grave danger, aiming to get to the city’s outskirts. But halfway through, they were discovered by a squad of more than ten soldiers from the S Army.
Some of the vanguard soldiers of that squad opened a household’s stove, intending to pursue Jiang Yuqing through the tunnels.
Bei He, after shooting a few of them, prevented them from entering the tunnel. He hid Jiang Yuqing and jumped out of the stove to single-handedly confront the squad.
Bei He, being a member of the Falcon Squad, fought valiantly against ten, showcasing unparalleled bravery.
After a fierce battle, Bei He was severely injured, but the enemy soldiers suffered even worse losses, with more than half of them dead. In the end, only four of them were left, and they didn’t dare confront Bei He, whose eyes were bloodshot from rage. Under his intense gaze, they turned and fled.
Worried, Jiang Yuqing came out, intending to drag the injured Bei He back into the tunnel.
But Bei He decisively sent Jiang Yuqing back into the tunnel and turned to leave.
Jiang Yuqing grabbed Bei He’s hand, pleading, “This is the last stretch. Once we escape from here, we can leave from the dock. Bei He… Come with me!”
But Bei He firmly shook his head. “Some of those soldiers escaped. They already know the tunnel’s location. If they report to their superiors, you might be doomed. Yuqing…”
“Wait for me in Nancheng. If I survive, I’ll find you.”
After saying this, he pushed Jiang Yuqing into the tunnel, rearranged the stove equipment, and left to chase the remaining S soldiers.
In the end, Jiang Yuqing escaped safely.
But for the rest of his life, he never saw Bei He again.
Jiang Yuqing didn’t witness what happened to Bei He after he entered the tunnel alone.
But he could guess—Bei He and those S Army soldiers must have perished together. To prevent them from leaking the tunnel’s location, Bei He gave up his life.
At this moment, Zhou Qian slowly walked in a narrow, lightless corridor, continuously reaching out above and around him, attempting to find an exit.
He guessed that he might be in Cypress City again.
However, this Cypress City seemed more real than the illusory, allegorical ghost city he’d experienced before.
Regarding this corridor… perhaps it would be more accurate to call it a tunnel.
This tunnel, in real history, should correspond to the final route Bei He and Jiang Yuqing took when they fled together.
As expected, a loud noise emanated from below, and Zhou Qian felt the surrounding walls and the ground shaking violently.
He was in a tunnel, and the entire city outside was probably under the bombardment of shells and gunfire.
Zhou Qian had another thought—Why wasn’t Jiang Yuqing with him now?
In Jiang Yuqing’s conscious world… how would he construct this route?
Did he wish to escape the tragic city with Bei He?
Did he hope that for the rest of his life, Bei He would always be by his side?
Or… did he just hope to confess the hidden, unspoken love to Bei He before his death?
There were so many unresolved regrets in this world.
What did Jiang Yuqing truly desire?
Having walked a considerable distance without hearing any noise or encountering any danger, Zhou Qian no longer cautiously used the dim light from his system panel but finally turned on his flashlight.
Shining the flashlight forward, its long beam was immediately swallowed by the endless darkness.
Looking at the unfathomable blackness ahead, Zhou Qian slightly raised his eyebrows. Could it be that this endless tunnel was another of Jiang Yuqing’s desires?
After all, in this way, he could keep walking with Bei He. As long as they didn’t reach the tunnel entrance where they were discovered by the S army, Bei He wouldn’t die.
But this route eventually had an end.
After walking for about two hours, Zhou Qian shone his flashlight forward, only to find a wall.
When he tried to push it, the wall was solid and immovable.
Moreover, on his way here, Zhou Qian had been continuously tapping the ceiling and walls, but he never found an exit.
So now the only unexplored areas were to the left and right of this wall.
Zhou Qian first shone his flashlight to his left.
Surprisingly, there was a glass door there. When his flashlight illuminated it, a light inside suddenly turned on.
Under the light stood a young and handsome man—it was Jiang Yuqing.
Upon seeing Zhou Qian, the young Jiang Yuqing immediately approached.
He pressed his hands against the glass door, seemingly desperate to get out, but he couldn’t open it. He just gazed at Zhou Qian with increasing urgency.
This scene was indeed a bit unexpected.
Zhou Qian then shone the flashlight to his right.
There was another glass door to the right.
Similarly, as soon as the flashlight illuminated it, the light inside the door turned on. This time, an elderly Jiang Yuqing stood inside.
Unlike the anxious young Jiang Yuqing, the elderly Jiang Yuqing stood still, his expression numb, eyes dull and lifeless, resembling his previous dementia-like state.
At this moment, the system sent a message.
[Among the two glass doors, only one can be opened; the glass door can only be opened by the player, not NPCs.]
[Please choose one of the glass doors to open. Once opened, the next plot will be triggered. The player may pass or may die.]
[Player Zhou Qian, please make a choice within ten minutes.]
The moment Ling Xiao got off from the web, he saw Ying Feng sitting opposite him. He hadn’t expected him to return after leaving. Immediately, Ling Xiao became defensive, almost like an animal that sensed a threat, his hairs standing on end.
“Oh? Changed your mind? Planning to come back and punch me?”
“Did you see Zhen He?” Ying Feng asked straightforwardly.
Ling Xiao’s first thought was that he was being watched again. “Do you always knowingly ask rhetorical questions? Or are you trying to force me to say it out loud?”
“Don’t go with him.” This time, Ying Feng simply gave an order.
Ling Xiao was momentarily taken aback, sensing that Zhen He had hidden the truth from him. But he didn’t intend to enlighten Ying Feng either. Jumping off the bed, he headed straight for the bathroom.
“It was impulsive of me to act earlier; you can hit me back. I won’t retaliate.” Ying Feng raised his voice as Ling Xiao walked away. “But I won’t allow you to join his group.”
While the first half of his statement seemed conciliatory, it was said without any concession in tone, more like a benefactor setting terms, emphasizing the latter part of his words.
Ling Xiao had almost filtered out the first half, but upon hearing the latter part, anger surged within him. He turned abruptly, swinging his fist. Even though the torments of the past few days had drained much of his strength, this close-range punch was powerful enough to break Ying Feng’s nose. But just as his full-force punch was an inch from its target, it stopped abruptly, unable to move further.
Ying Feng’s inconsistent behavior filled Ling Xiao with disdain. “I thought you weren’t fighting back? Oh, right, controlling isn’t considered retaliating, is it? Stop pretending.”
“I didn’t.” Ying Feng clarified expressionlessly, even with Ling Xiao’s clenched fist right before his eyes. “I didn’t control you.”
In disbelief, Ling Xiao pulled back his hand, which now moved freely. But when he swung again, his hand halted at the exact same spot.
“Ha,” a worse realization struck him, “Being a Qizi, I don’t even have the right to strike my Qizhu, do I? What a wonderful system, hahaha.”
He simply abandoned the idea of landing a punch, deciding to ignore whatever Ying Feng might say next.
“If you choose to go with him, decide whether you want to stay here or in a cell.”
Facing such a blatant threat, Ling Xiao ignored it, heading into the bathroom. Given his current state, how different was it from being imprisoned?
The reflection in the mirror looked the same as it did two days ago, but now it wasn’t as unbearable. Compared to Ying Feng, Ling Xiao mused, his own face seemed more pleasant.
He took deep breaths, repeating thrice, “This is the last day. I made it through the past two days; today will be fine too.”
He fist-bumped his reflection, “Stay strong, Ling Xiao!”
Revitalized, Ling Xiao picked up a towel as he left the bathroom.
Ying Feng watched him struggle to tie both his hands together with the towel, finally securing it with a tight knot using his teeth.
“What are you doing?”
Ling Xiao didn’t want to admit that the night before he had almost looked for a knife, contemplating ending his life. Each night’s torment was worse than the last, and he feared tonight’s impulses might lead him to do something regrettable.
Even without an answer, Ying Feng somewhat understood his intention. “How can a towel restrict you? You could easily break free.”
“You only see one lock.” Ling Xiao tightened the knot further. “But I have three.”
Ying Feng was puzzled. “Where?”
“My determination and self-control.”
Having said that, he lay down. “Don’t worry, I won’t lose control and roll towards you, so your sleep isn’t disturbed.”
The final night of his turbulent phase quietly began. The first night represented fear, the second depression, and the third intense cold. Wrapped in a blanket, Ling Xiao felt like he was frozen solid.
What was even harder to bear was the known source of warmth right next to him. The tangible warmth kept flowing from beside him, but abruptly halted just before reaching him. He yearned to get closer, just a bit closer, but he forcefully suppressed such impulses.
Ling Xiao covered himself with the blanket, curling up as tight as possible. In the darkness, the sound of his chattering teeth was the only thing accompanying him through this endlessly difficult night.
……
“Ling Xiao!” First thing in the morning, as soon as Ting Lei saw Ling Xiao, he rushed over with concern. He instinctively reached out to put his arm around Ling Xiao’s shoulder but suddenly remembered the incident from the previous day. He changed course halfway, scratching the back of his head. “Were you okay yesterday?”
Ling Xiao knew Ting Lei meant well, but he found it hard to bear being treated as the weaker one by everyone. “I’m fine. What about you?”
“What could possibly happen to me? But Ying Feng’s current strength is really…” He paused midway through his sentence, recalling that the reason Ying Feng was now so strong, able to lift him with one hand, was due to obtaining Ling Xiao’s power. He quickly changed his statement.
“Speaking of which, we have physical training next. Are you sure you can handle it? Maybe you should take a day off.” Ting Lei noticed that Ling Xiao looked even paler than he did yesterday, like he might collapse after just running 500 meters.
“Don’t think of me as that weak.” Ling Xiao was already warming up.
“You’re just too stubborn,” Ting Lei said anxiously on his behalf. “There’s no harm in admitting weakness occasionally.”
“Fall in!” The instructor blew the whistle, and, as expected, both Ying Feng and Ling Xiao appeared in the line-up.
“Today’s physical training target is 30,000 meters. For some weaker races, this is already the limit, but for us, it’s just a basic requirement. Those of you who ascend to the military academy will realize this is just a warm-up distance. Everyone needs to finish within the set time. Those who don’t will run it again tomorrow. Start now!”
The students chose their initial pace and set off. Ling Xiao, who usually led these trainings, conservatively paced himself in the middle today. A few friends, worried about him, ran close by. As for Ying Feng, with his newfound strength and speed, he was far ahead of everyone else.
Less than halfway to the finish, Ling Xiao’s pace visibly slowed. Even those who usually trailed behind him seemed to breathe less heavily than he did. It was clear to everyone that he wasn’t feeling well.
“Ling Xiao, just take a break. The instructor will understand,” one of them said.
Ling Xiao shook his head and, contrary to expectations, increased his speed. The others had no choice but to keep up.
Ying Feng completed the whole course in just two-thirds of the usual time. For him, this distance truly felt like a warm-up.
The instructor looked even more appreciative of his star pupil. “Ready to apply to the elite Royal Sky Military Academy?”
Ying Feng replied dismissively, “Considering staying here, not thinking too much about it.”
“With your current level, you can choose any specialty at Royal Sky. I’ve heard that Major General Fu Yao is now teaching there. If you’re lucky, you might even be in his department.”
Ying Feng recalled the name, remembering him as the shorter officer.
“Heh,” Ying Feng remembered the punch the officer had given him.
“Fu Yao is the youngest Major General in Tianxiu. He’s quite powerful. But that’s not what he’s most famous for.”
“What then?”
“He’s the earliest to complete the coming-of-age ceremony in Tianxiu history. He reached adulthood just four years into his juvenile phase.”
After saying that, the instructor added with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “There’s a rumor that this is the reason he’s so short.”
His face became serious in an instant. “But never mention this in front of him, especially his height. If you do, you’ll regret it.”
Ying Feng thought, ‘I’ve already experienced how ‘regretful’ that can be.’
After a while, students began returning one after another, except for Ling Xiao, who was always uncomfortable if he didn’t finish first. Even Ying Feng felt it was unusual.
By the time Ling Xiao came into Ying Feng’s view, a significant amount of time had passed. Even at his worst, Ling Xiao shouldn’t have been this slow. He seemed to be forcing himself to complete the last stretch, running despite tasting blood in his mouth, facing difficulty in breathing, and feeling as though his legs were filled with lead.
The moment he reached the finish line, it was as if he had completed a mission. Ling Xiao’s vision blacked out, and he finally collapsed. Unlike yesterday, this time, he didn’t get up.
“Ling Xiao!” A cry of alarm rose from the crowd. People began to gather around, but they hesitated because of Ying Feng, turning to him for help.
Ying Feng walked over to find Ling Xiao unconscious.
“Ying Feng,” Ting Lei said, his voice thick with suppressed anger, “Something was wrong with Ling Xiao since yesterday. Today, after just 30,000 meters, he’s like this. What did you do to him?”
“Enough talking,” a female student interrupted anxiously. “Let’s get him to the infirmary.”
Ying Feng bent down and lifted Ling Xiao, carrying him without uttering a word towards the medical building, leaving behind a group of worried classmates. His strength, which had nearly doubled, made carrying Ling Xiao feel effortless. The man in his arms had a pale face, eyes tightly shut, and the hair at his temples clung to his cheeks, dampened by sweat.
Yao Tai opened the door, and upon seeing such a scene, her expression became grave.
“Lay him on the bed,” she coldly instructed.
Ying Feng did as told and watched as she connected various medical instruments to Ling Xiao.
The examination results came out quickly. After reading the report, Yao Tai felt the urge to severely reprimand Ying Feng.
He looked at her with confusion as she glared at him fiercely, then noticed her attaching some therapeutic device to Ling Xiao’s temple.
Yao Tai pressed a few keys on the device, and blue numbers appeared on the display, gradually increasing.
“Do you know what this is?” she asked irritably.
Ying Feng shook his head.
“It’s a machine used for inducing sleep. It puts a person into a deep slumber temporarily, but upon waking up, the mental stress accumulated beforehand will backlash, almost like drinking poison to quench thirst. No one would use it unless absolutely necessary. He’s deeply asleep now and won’t hear our conversation.”
Ying Feng frowned.
“I asked you to take good care of him. Is this how you do it? Do you realize he hasn’t eaten for three days?”
Confused, Ying Feng asked, “Why?”
She questioned, “Did you get him a supplementary card?”
“He didn’t mention it,” Ying Feng replied.
Yao Tai had to restrain her urge to lash out.
“Didn’t I tell you? After becoming a Qizi, the main card gets demagnetized, and all the funds transfer to your card. Didn’t you notice an increase in your balance?”
Only then did Ying Feng remember. After returning from the field practice, he found an extra four units of money in his account. The amount was so small; he thought he misremembered.
“If he didn’t mention it, couldn’t you have asked?” Yao Tai angrily pointed at them. “One doesn’t ask, the other doesn’t speak. Were you waiting for him to starve to death?”
“He hasn’t eaten or slept for three days and has just done strenuous exercise. The fact that he only passed out now is a miracle! Even with our constitution, we couldn’t endure such strain!”
“You seem even more out of control than him. Those who can’t control their emotions aren’t qualified to be Qizhu! Had I known, I would have sent him to the disease control center rather than leave him with you; at least he wouldn’t starve there!”
Yao Tai berated him incessantly, but Ying Feng remained silent.
Yao Tai, overwhelmed with anger, paused for a moment before speaking seriously.
“I’m warning you; his psychological rating has reached E-. He’s on the verge of mandatory hospitalization, but that’s not the worst of it. He’s now showing signs of mild mental trauma. This damage will stay with him forever and cannot be cured. Have you seen the principal? He’s a typical case of severe mental trauma. Do you want Ling Xiao to end up like him?”
“If you continue with your recklessness, he will die. I’m not joking.” Her tone softened slightly. “Ying Feng, a Tianxiu person can only have one partner in their lifetime. If the Qizi dies before maturing, the Qizhu will also cease to grow. Your abilities will peak, so even if you’re only thinking selfishly, you should take good care of him. The person lying in bed is the only Qizi you’ll ever have in this lifetime. Get rid of your impractical notions now!”
Ying Feng uncomfortably turned away, looking at Ling Xiao on the bed. He noticed the rapid rise and fall of Ling Xiao’s chest; his breaths were quick and shallow, resembling an animal.
“Why is he breathing so fast?”
“The heartbeat and breathing of a Qizi are faster than before. Haven’t you noticed your own heartbeat slowing down? The average lifespan of a Qizi is already lower than a Qizhu’s, but thanks to irresponsible Qizhu like you, that average is even further reduced,” she said sarcastically.
Yao Tai glanced at the time. “He can sleep for another hour. His period of disorder was supposed to be over, but you dragged it out another day. The mental backlash tonight will be even more painful than the past few days. I’d like to see what you’ll do then.”
She flicked her hair and left, leaving Ying Feng alone with Ling Xiao in the medical room. He walked over to Ling Xiao’s bed. The usually fierce-looking man appeared gentle and serene in his deep slumber. The earlier quarrel hadn’t affected him in the slightest. Ying Feng couldn’t imagine that this was Ling Xiao’s first sleep since the coming-of-age ceremony.
The blue light on the instrument blinked on and off, with numbers symbolizing the passing time and counting down ruthlessly. In this harsh system, challenges could only be overcome by the spirit of the individual. Even the most advanced medical instruments could only offer a brief respite to the Qizi.
When Ling Xiao woke up, the room was empty. He had probably just experienced the deepest sleep of his life, so deep that no dream could infiltrate.
However, with his sleep issues resolved, his hunger felt even more pronounced. As he sat up, he noticed some devices still attached to his head. He removed them and was about to get out of bed when he accidentally bumped into something peculiar.
Looking down, there was a pack of banana-flavored energy bread by his side.
Just when the ceremony courtyard was bustling with excitement, Shen Zhu finally broke through the second layer of protection of the treasure vault.
The wushu armor, supported by a wooden frame, was placed conspicuously on the second floor. It was woven from fine metal threads, entirely black, radiating a soft, dull glow. Even after decades, or even a century, there wasn’t a trace of rust on it.
Shen Zhu finally shed her adept facade and stared at it in a daze for a moment.
Unfortunately, time was limited, and she didn’t allow herself to relax for too long. Shen Zhu quickly collected herself, carefully prying off the glass cover. She immediately removed her silken steel armor and put on the wushu armor. The steel armor was painted black and was much heavier than the wushu armor. But when hung on the wooden frame, there was not much visible difference.
After doing all of this, Shen Zhu fixed her hair and rushed to the ceremony courtyard.
She didn’t really care about the fate of the Chigou Sect; the earlier she returned, the better. Not to mention that the longer she stayed away, the more suspicious it would be. If she could help Shi Jingzhi early on, she might be able to fool him with her “merits”.
In the best-case scenario, Hua Jingchun’s plan would go smoothly and restrain Wu Huai. The worst-case scenario would be the complete failure of the plan, leading everyone to scatter in disarray.
Unfortunately, when Shen Zhu arrived on the scene, the situation was entirely different from what she had imagined.
The followers of the Chigou Sect were neatly kneeling on the ground. Wu Huai was pinned to an ancient cauldron with a long sword, though he wasn’t critically injured. A man wearing a mask and ceremonial clothes stood in front of Wu Huai, looking as if he had walked out of the potrait of Su Zhi.
Above the portrait, on the eaves of the building, Shi Jingzhi, Su Si, and Yan Qing were on one side, while Qu Duanyun and Xu Jingming were on the other, confronting each other. Hua Jingchun seemed to be in the least tense situation, standing in the center, ready to suppress anyone who wanted to assist Wu Huai. The scholars from the Yueshui Pavilion were frantically taking notes.
Shen Zhu: “…” It seemed she missed the most exciting part.
Shi Jingzhi noticed Shen Zhu’s return. He glanced at her briefly, then focused again on Qu Duanyun. “Last time, Sect Master Qu was quite enthusiastic. Why are you ignoring me now?”
Even though Shi Jingzhi spoke jokingly, he was almost certain about something. With just one sentence, he touched on Qu Duanyun’s secrets.
[This troublesome little brother of mine, I have to trouble you to take care of him along the way.]
The Immortal Assembly was a loose organization fond of connecting with talented individuals. It wasn’t surprising that the influential head of the Qu Clan, Qu Duanyun, was recruited. However, Shi Jingzhi’s royal identity was surely a secret.
Having spent over two decades observing people in the palace, Shi Jingzhi didn’t miss any of Qu Duanyun’s subtle reactions. It was clear that Qu Duanyun already knew about his identity.
[Once you return to Yidu… Please convey my regards to the Imperial Preceptor.]
…This sentence was probing.
“As expected of the Sect Master of the Kushan Sect. You’re even more cunning than the rumors suggest,” realizing his lapse, Qu Duanyun candidly admitted.
Xu Jingming looked confused. “What are you talking about?”
Before he could understand, he felt a sharp pain in his neck and blacked out. Qu Duanyun sighed, retracted his sneaky hand, and said, “I underestimated you.”
His tone was calm, showing no guilt for being discovered.
Using both logic and emotion, Shi Jingzhi proposed, “Sect Master Qu, why not come to my sect for some tea and a chat? If you’re unwilling, we might have to force you.”
Shi Jingzhi didn’t think there was anything wrong with the three-versus-one situation. After dealing with Wu Huai, four against one would be fine too.
Qu Duanyun chuckled lightly, as if he had anticipated this move, “I know what Sect Master Shi wishes to ask. As for your condition of hematemesis, there’s no cure other than the ‘Shirou’. However, I won’t hand over such an item so easily.”
Shi Jingzhi’s smile flickered, then faded.
Qu Duanyun put away his sword with a hint of pity in his eyes. “Someone as smart as Sect Master Shi should know that I’m not lying about your illness.”
“Sect Master… Brother Qu is so forthright, why not seize the day? How about sharing with me that ‘Hundred-Year Project’ as well?”
“Hundred-Year Project?”
This struck a nerve, and Qu Duanyun’s expression darkened.
“You’re not the one who should be asking about this. Instead of worrying about these things, you should focus on surviving this year.”
Shi Jingzhi, always cunning, touched his chin. “Then we’ll have to invite Sect Master Qu to come with us.”
Qu Duanyun paused, chuckling softly. Taking another step forward, his eyebrows remained sharp, his eyes twinkled like stars, and an aura of righteousness surrounded him. Based on the scene, one might think that Shi Jingzhi was the villain.
“Thanks to the treasure map and Buddha beads you handed over, Taiheng is only one step away from the ‘Shirou’. I have issued the command, and it will be proclaimed to the world that they must have my approval as sect leader. If I were to fall into the hands of villains because of this, it would be better if the Shirou never appears.”
Qu Duanyun’s right palm faced upwards, gripping at thin air.
“Sect Master Shi, your life could be in my hands. If you resist, the area where the Shirou is will be turned to ashes.”
Upon hearing this, Yan Qing looked at Shi Jingzhi, his eyes filled with worry. Su Si spoke mockingly, “What Sect Master of Taiheng. You’re clearly more suited to be the Patriarch of Chigou than Wu Huai!”
Qu Duanyun snorted coldly. “I, of Taiheng, have been exorcizing demons and defending the righteous path for hundreds of years. Humans should be treated as humans, and evil spirits have their own ways of being dealt with. I, Qu Duanyun, have no regrets in my heart.”
Su Si was about to make a move but was blocked by the Medicine Cures Illness flag. He was about to call him “spineless” when he swallowed his words, feeling intimidated by Sect Master Shi’s eerie laughter, which sounded like poisoned wine mixed with thick honey.
“Thank you for the lesson, Sect Master Qu.” Shi Jingzhi gave a slight bow, sincerity evident in his tone.
Startled by that laughter, Qu Duanyun nearly took a step back. Seeing Shi Jingzhi’s hostility dissipate, he reached out to support the unconscious Xu Jingming, seemingly about to leave the rooftop.
“Sect Master, shouldn’t we chase after him?” Su Si asked, surprisingly obedient.
Yan Qing was still worried about Shi Jingzhi’s health. “You’re severely ill. What if we can’t get the Shirou?”
“There’s no need to panic. It’s not time to turn against each other yet.”
Shi Jingzhi responded calmly with a firm tone.
Indeed, Qu Duanyun hadn’t lied. However, he wasn’t a real god and didn’t know everything in the world. The statement “there’s no cure other than the Shirou” was… peculiar.
Looking at his attitude, Qu Duanyun seemed to be somewhat displeased with Shi Jingzhi, showing no need to take Shi Jingzhi’s feelings into account. If the Imperial Preceptor wanted the Shirou, Qu Duanyun should have said, “The Shirou is now in the hands of the Immortal Assembly; you’re finished.” He didn’t need to admit “there’s no cure other than the Shirou”. Even if he directly threatened with the Shirou, Shi Jingzhi wouldn’t act recklessly.
In Qu Duanyun’s words, he clearly believed that Shi Jingzhi still had a chance to get the Shirou and even intentionally or unintentionally provoked his competitive spirit. Clearly, no matter how he looked at it, Qu Duanyun had an advantage. Facing Shi Jingzhi, the leader of such a small sect, Sect Master Qu’s attitude was overly cautious.
…It was as if he knew Shi Jingzhi had a great possibility of taking the Shirou.
Could it be that Yan Budu’s “Shirou” was also “actively given by the immortals”? Was this a coincidence?
Interesting. Could that Shirou also be a part of the Child of Desire and the Hundred-Year Project? What was more intriguing was that when Qu Duanyun mentioned the Hundred-Year Project, he showed no guilt towards the “victim” and even had an elusive hint of envy in his tone.
In the past, Shi Jingzhi was obsessed with life and probably chose to overlook these subtle peculiarities. But now, with his desires satisfied, he was unusually calm. It was as if countless hands were pushing him towards the Shirou.
The more it was like this, the more careful he needed to be.
“Let’s go. It’s time to send the ‘Su Zhi’ back to the Yellow Springs.” Shi Jingzhi smiled.
Under the eaves.
Shen Zhu saw the yang fire shatter into countless sparks, and the ash of the deceased rose once again with the wind. In just a moment, the “person in the painting” disappeared without a trace. Quietly, the mask used for the ritual silently returned to its original position.
Below the stage, the members of the Chigou sect were still shouting for the “Patriarch”. The atmosphere of the ritual had never been so lively. Although their “Young Patriarch” was still nailed to the ancient cauldron, the members were already in a frenzy. The eight Protectors were whispering to each other, discussing something. Hua Jingchun picked up Wu Huai’s Bone Sweeping Sword, took off the hilt directly, and showed the rough part inside the hilt to everyone.
“Those who don’t believe can check the sect’s records. There should be a Chigou pattern carved inside the hilt.” Her voice was already hoarse, but she still tried her best to shout loudly. “This Bone Sweeping Sword is fake! Patriarch Su protects our Divine Sect!”
“Patriarch Su protects our Divine Sect!” The members inside the courtyard also shouted in unison. “Long live the Divine Chigou Sect!”
Holding the fake sword, Hua Jingchun turned to Wu Huai. The latter looked surprisingly calm. “Are you going to kill me?”
“Not worth dirtying my hands. Someone will deal with you.”
Wu Huai laughed, showing blood-stained teeth. He said loudly, “How can the dead come back to life? Your tricks may deceive some for a while, but not for a lifetime.”
Then he turned to the crowd below. “Since you all love tricks so much, I’ll show you another—”
He opened his mouth wide and vomited out a jade ball slightly smaller than a baby’s head. The jade ball stretched his mouth until it cracked and bled. Wu Huai seemed unconcerned, vomiting more and more smoothly. Following the jade ball were a slender torso and limbs. No one knows how Wu Huai, with his physique, managed to vomit it all out.
The thing looked like a terrifyingly thin child, glowing with a jade-like green. Like a newborn fawn, it twitched on the ground a couple of times, staggered to its feet, and slowly stretched out in the sunlight.
Suddenly, it extended its extremely slender hands, grabbing Wu Huai. The next moment, they both disappeared on the spot, like a flash, leaving only a wisp of dust.
Protector Hua didn’t expect the cooked duck to fly away and was immediately stunned on the spot. Everything happened so fast that even Shi Jingzhi couldn’t react in time.
The members who were just shouting out loud were silenced by this strange scene, like ripples of quiet spreading out. Before long, everyone in the courtyard was silent. Everyone froze in place, and the previous lively scene disappeared.
With the unexpected turn of events, Shen Zhu no longer cared about any excuses. She just wanted to return to her team. However, just as she approached Sect Master Shi within three steps, she received a palm strike from him. The force wasn’t huge, but it was full of inner force. If she hadn’t been wearing the wushu armor, her organs would have been shattered, and she would have been half dead.
Shen Zhu’s vision went dark, and she completely lost consciousness.
When she woke up, it was already the next night. Shi Jingzhi was standing in front of her bed, looking at her with crossed arms. Yin Ci stood by his side with a somewhat helpless expression.
Shen Zhu moved her lips, but before she could speak, Shi Jingzhi emotionlessly pointed at the medicine bowl on the bedside. “Enough, I know you were wearing the wushu armor. You didn’t even break a bone, so hurry up and drink the medicine.”
“…You knew.”
“Where there are many ancient relics, there’s always the smell of preservation and anti-corrosion potions.” Shi Jingzhi pointed to his own nose. “Your movements still show you’re wearing armor, but they’re much lighter than before. I’m not a fool.”
Shen Zhu obediently picked up the medicine bowl. The brew was so bitter that she wished she could curl her tongue.
Watching Shen Zhu drink half of it, Shi Jingzhi finally smiled slightly. “Before, I treated people as objects and didn’t expect any loyalty from you. The clues you are investigating still belong to the Immortal Assembly. I won’t pursue this matter this time, but don’t let it happen again… A’Ci, let’s go.”
He walked a few steps away, then deliberately paused. “I added a little something extra to that medicine. You’ll know its effects soon. Now that I’ve attacked you in public, we have set clear boundaries. Remember to use this situation wisely.”
Yin Ci didn’t leave with him. “You go first. I still have some things to do.”
Shi Jingzhi didn’t press him, and happily walked out on his own. Yin Ci watched Shi Jingzhi leave, then suddenly appeared next to Shen Zhu’s bed. Shen Zhu’s back was instantly drenched in cold sweat.
“For betrayal in crucial moments and doing things one’s own way, even with a good reason, if you were under me, you’d be dead,” Yin Ci casually remarked as he picked up the empty medicine bowl.
Whether intentionally or not, a trace of Yin Ci’s murderous intent brushed past Shen Zhu, making her flinch.
Yin Ci glanced at her. “…Don’t worry, the medicine isn’t poisonous. It’ll just make your complexion look terrible, like you haven’t recovered from a serious injury. However, if you ever play with his life again, next time he might not be there to punish you.”
“Senior, don’t worry. I want to live a bit longer,” Shen Zhu weakly replied. “What about Wu Huai?”
“We haven’t caught him yet,” Yin Ci said without looking back, exiting the room.
Having caught the big fish that was Qu Duanyun, they had already reaped a lot. No matter how strange Wu Huai’s abilities were, with him being severely injured, he would appear before people sooner or later. With Chigou’s favor, capturing Wu Huai was just a matter of time.
Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated in a hundred battles. The more bizarre skills Wu Huai revealed, the more advantageous it was for the Kushan Sect.
Thus, despite Wu Huai’s escape, Yin Ci was in a good mood. However, his mood only lasted until he stepped into Hua Jingchun’s room—
As Yin Ci entered the room, a round object rolled to his feet. It rolled over the stone floor, making a dull cracking sound. It was a polished round stone; not a precious gem but a common semi-transparent stone found in the desert.
He had seen it before, in his darkest delusions.
“A’Ci, look at this clay statue…”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. This servant was clumsy. Sect Master Shi, is it alright that it got dropped?”
The voices of the people seemed muffled, as if underwater. Yin Ci picked up a stone with trembling fingertips. When he finally looked up, the clay statue made by Lady Sun had fallen and shattered, revealing its contents.
A wrinkled booklet and more than a dozen beautifully polished round stones were scattered on the ground, like the innards of a statue, full of a sense of decay and desolation.
[I’ve collected so many beautiful stones. Cuicui will definitely like them. Don’t you think so, General Yin?]
The figure in the illusion stood in front of him, with sand filling the gaps in his armor.
With a blank face, Yin Ci gripped the stone tightly, causing his knuckles to softly crack.
Seeing the remnants of the cup, Hua Jingchun realized that the plot had been exposed. Wu Huai indeed was a beast, but based solely on this, her actions couldn’t be justified—even though Chigou was seemingly friendly to the people, it was fundamentally a demonic sect. Attacking solely because the “Young Patriarch” was morally corrupt would be quite absurd.
Before Wu Huai could drink the drugged tea, even the always-disciplined Taiheng disciples weren’t affected. The courtyard was full of Chigou members, and the other eight Great Protectors and Protectors were all awake, making the situation as bad as it could be. This operation was a gamble, and facing imminent failure, Hua Jingchun responded calmly.
If Shi Jingzhi took advantage of the situation to demand a high price, she would have reason to suspect him of tampering with the drug. But when he asked for a painting instead, she couldn’t help but be both amused and puzzled.
“Taken a liking? Don’t joke.” The Chigou sect was open-minded, so she didn’t take his words as an offense. “You see those people? A single spit from them is enough for us to suffer. And those eight on stage, they’re all fierce individuals who have tasted blood. You’re so young; better not get involved in this mess.”
Shi Jingzhi, still smiling, became more affectionate. “Sister, don’t worry. Just tell me if you’re willing or not.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to if you’re willing to die for me?”
Wu Huai was in no rush, standing back and watching them whisper below, his intentions unclear.
The eight Great Protectors and Protectors on the stage saw that their Young Patriarch was still, so they looked at each other, confused. Just now, when Hua Jingchun addressed the Young Patriarch in his twenties as ‘ge’, they weren’t sure if she was stating a fact or smearing him. Despite the hesitation, all of them gripped their weapons. The atmosphere was so tense that one could hear a pin drop.
Sect Master Shi remained relaxed and continued softly, “Dear sister, let me ask two questions. Do you recognize the face of the former Patriarch? If you see him again, can you recognize him?”
This chilling question made Hua Jingchun uncertain. “Only the Patriarch of past generations could see the portrait, but the previous Patriarch had an extraordinary presence. Even if he was masked, we wouldn’t mistake him.”
Wu Huai was still calm, but Qu Duanyun didn’t want to watch this farce. He tapped the table, still speaking logically. “Regarding Chigou, Taiheng does not intend to intervene. But betraying one’s sect for selfish desires is the most despicable act in the martial world. If Patriarch Wu needs help, just ask.”
Protector Hua spat and sneered, “So Taiheng is also a coward, pretending to be blind and deaf. Did Sect Master Qu not see the misdeeds of this man? Claiming to maintain righteousness, but now he’s become indecisive.”
Qu Duanyun earnestly replied, “For centuries, Chigou has been digging graves, stealing relics, raising assassins, and trading lives. Within this demonic sect, Protector Hua, what righteousness do you want me to defend? When you commit evil, you don’t want us to interfere. Now, when it’s infighting, you hope we uphold justice?”
Xu Jingming, sitting not far from him, nodded in agreement. He was more curious and excited than nervous about this unexpected turn.
Hua Jingchun was taken aback and replied sharply, “Since Sect Master Qu hates evil so much, why have any relations with Chigou? Wouldn’t it be easier to just fight to the death?”
“Whether in the northwest or in the martial world, Chigou must continue,” Qu Duanyun said with a hint of pity in his eyes. “Protector Hua, stop your nonsense. It’s better to quit early.”
Yin Ci, sidetracking the topic, observed Qu Duanyun.
If this man wasn’t pretending to be a genius, he genuinely believed in what he said. In his words, Protector Hua became a “traitor out of selfish desires”; a lunatic spewing “nonsense”.
Yin Ci touched his Hanging Shadow Sword, deeply influenced by his own Sect Master. For a moment, he wanted to take Qu Duanyun for questioning.
Seeing the conversation coming to an end, Yin Ci looked at Shi Jingzhi. Just as he was about to speak, Shi Jingzhi playfully scratched his palm.
“A’Ci, let’s play something fun,” he said gleefully. “I know what you’re thinking, but instead of kidnapping Qu Duanyun, I have a more entertaining idea.”
Shi Jingzhi pointed at the mask Wu Huai placed next to the ancient tripod. The Young Patriarch’s removal of the mask was routine. That mask was a replica of the former Patriarch’s, identical to the one in the painting.
“Yin Ci, want to try ‘resurrecting from the dead’?”
Meanwhile, Wu Huai’s calm before the storm reached its end. Seeing Hua Jingchun showing no sign of surrender, he pinched his brow and brandished his Bone Sweeping Sword. “Kill them all. No need to interrogate.”
“Remove the mask to show the true face, offer past commitments for peace. Respectfully announce to the world, a cup of wine disrupts the Yellow Springs.”
Unknowingly, Shi Jingzhi had jumped to the roof on the side of the courtyard, right above the portrait of the Old Patriarch. His Nuo mask was slightly tilted, revealing a bewitchingly beautiful face. After several days, the Medicine Cures Illness flag was finally lifted by the wind, and the sect leader’s jade pendant on the flag swayed with it. Shi Jingzhi’s long hair floated with the wind, accompanied by the swirling mist of the corpse incense, adding a more eerie atmosphere.
“Wu Huai, you haven’t drunk the ‘wine that disrupts the Yellow Springs’. Can you really be considered the Patriarch of Chigou? Isn’t it a bit excessive to order death directly like this?”
Seeing Shi Jingzhi’s face, Wu Huai was momentarily stunned but didn’t show much surprise, obviously recognizing him. Qu Duanyun stood up from his seat, drawing his sword. His brows furrowed slightly, and a ripple appeared on his calm face.
Xu Jingming couldn’t contain his shock and exclaimed, “It’s you—”
Shi Jingzhi crouched on the eaves, overlooking the scene, ignoring the commotion below. His eyes swept over all the faces looking up at him.
Wu Huai pointed at him with his Bone Sweeping Sword. “Come down. I don’t like looking up when I speak. What does my Chigou matter have to do with your Kushan Sect?”
Shi Jingzhi didn’t hide the eerie aura around him. Locking his eyes with Wu Huai, he laughed. “So what if it’s unrelated? I came here for two reasons: One is for a treasure from Chigou, and the other is to test the magic artifact I got from Zongwu Mountain.”
He casually took out a jade eyeball and played with it in his hand.
Seeing the jade eyeball, the reactions of the people in the courtyard made it easy for him to judge who knew its significance and who didn’t. Most reacted with surprise, caution, and incomprehension, with a few showing greed.
This helped him rule out any potential spies from the Immortal Assembly.
The jade eyeball moved up and down in Shi Jingzhi’s hand, captivating the crowd. “This is a great artifact. If used correctly, it can bring the dead back to life.”
His voice, infused with inner force, rang loud and clear.
“I’ve thought about it for a long time. Yan Budu is cunning and dangerous, and Venerable Kongshi probably won’t let me, a lunatic, go. To summon a soul, Su Zhi seems appropriate. With this setup, it’s intriguing.”
The courtyard suddenly burst into chaos. The guests seemed relatively unaffected, but the members of Chigou instantly descended into turmoil. The still waters turned turbulent, and the buzzing discussions drowned out the continuous jingling of bone bells.
“Can Patriarch Su actually be resurrected?!”
“People have been saying that the Kushan Sect obtained a treasure from Zongwu Mountain, and it seems to be true…”
“There are countless bizarre and mysterious things in the Ghost Tomb. If that truly is a cursed object left by Yan Budu, it could very well be possible—”
“What cursed object? When Yan Budu obtained the ‘Shirou’, he must’ve also taken other celestial artifacts!”
Even Hua Jingchun, who personally brought them here, was taken aback; her eyes were fixated on that jade eyeball. The people from the Yueshui Pavilion seemed to have gone mad as the sound of hastily scribbling notes was incessant, accompanied by the tearing of paper. What started as a minor disturbance quickly escalated into utter chaos. The members of Chigou forgot about the corpses on the ground and eagerly pushed towards the direction of Shi Jingzhi.
Only Wu Huai and Qu Duanyun reacted differently. Wu Huai remained indifferent, while a fleeting look of “What nonsense are you talking about?” appeared on Qu Duanyun’s face. He hid it well, but not from Shi Jingzhi’s sharp eyes.
These two seemed to know something about the jade eyeball.
Shi Jingzhi smiled subtly without exposing them. He activated the artifact, creating a spectacle. The ritual commenced, and when the smoke cleared, a figure stood in front of the portrait.
Bone bells in the sky all vibrated in unison, creating a humming sound. The smoke was swept away by the wind, and in front of the scroll, a figure truly appeared.
The figure had long, disheveled hair, dressed in the ceremonial robe of the Chigou Sect, and wore a mask on his face. Without uttering a word, he exuded an immense aura that weighed heavily on the crowd, making them unable to lift their heads.
Even without seeing the face, just by that demeanor and aura…
“Patriarch… Patriarch Su!” Protector Hua stuttered, a rare occurrence. Her eyes widened, not even concerned about Shi Jingzhi’s identity anymore.
She stared at the figure in front of the scroll, tears streaming down her face. A century had passed, and the admiration of the Chigou members for Patriarch Su had never reached the point of madness. But now, with the legend standing before them, the overwhelming emotions couldn’t be suppressed. Some bolder young members even tried to touch the legend from a century ago.
Yin Ci didn’t really want to speak at this moment. He just stood silently in place, feeling like a sieve under the scrutinizing gaze of the crowd.
He had imagined countless scenarios of returning to Chigou, but this wasn’t one of them. God knows what was going on in Shi Jingzhi’s head, to come up with such a trick so quickly. The advantage of this method was evident—with Shi Jingzhi and the jade eyeball descending from the sky, if there were anyone from the Immortal Assembly, their reaction would be genuine.
The downside was, as a “resurrected” spirit, Yin Ci couldn’t bleed nor be touched by others.
‘…Difficult to achieve,’ Yin Ci thought. But as Shi Jingzhi said, it was indeed interesting.
“Charlatan tricks!” Wu Huai took the initiative, thrusting his Bone Sweeping Sword straight forward.
Summoning the dead was absurd. This was probably something prearranged by Shi Jingzhi and Hua Jingchun.
The choice of the person was apt. He had learned the demeanor and aura of Patriarch Su for a long time, but none were as accurate as this imitation. But these charlatan tricks were just that. Once he made a move, the farce would collapse.
Wu Huai’s sword was fast, filled with killing intent. But that “Su Zhi” caught the blade between his fingers with a twist.
“I see, imitating the Bone Sweeping Sword technique.” Yin Ci sighed. He kept his habit of “Su Zhi” and lowered his voice slightly. “A good imitation, but I’m not a fan.”
The true-or-false Old Patriarch faced off against the Young Patriarch, leaving the members of Chigou paralyzed. Everyone looked at each other, unsure whether to intervene.
Seeing his sword was ineffective, Wu Huai caught a glimpse of Yin Ci’s details. He frowned and said with a shaken tone, “You… have no inner force?”
He exerted all his strength to retrieve his sword, adopting a completely defensive stance. It wasn’t unusual for someone to lack inner force, and young masters were also not very rare. However, a young master without inner force was indeed a rarity.
Yin Ci snorted coldly, casually drawing a sword from a corpse at the side of the platform, without giving a reply.
He had no intention of engaging in a conversation with Wu Huai. Instead, he immediately advanced with his sword. As soon as his sword technique was displayed, it instantly caused a gasp of astonishment from the crowd.
“The Bone Sweeping Sword technique! It’s the Bone Sweeping Sword technique!”
“It truly is Patriarch Su!”
Now, even those who were previously skeptical became fervent believers. It had been a long time since the founding of Great Yun, but no one had heard of any sect leader being resurrected.
Hua Jingchun quickly recovered and shouted at the remaining Protectors. “Patriarch Su has revealed himself! Are you still going to protect that imposter?”
The aura, the intricate Bone Sweeping Sword technique—none of these could be faked. The eight elders were dumbfounded, none daring to assist Wu Huai.
Taking advantage of the situation, Protector Hua turned to the fervent followers. “Wu Huai betrayed his people, forged his lineage, and even the evidence is counterfeit! Today I am here by the rules, only for the everlasting Divine Chigou Sect!”
“It is a blessing for me to see Patriarch Su appear today!”
Wu Huai was completely overpowered by Yin Ci. His sword style was derived from the Bone Sweeping Sword technique. How could he anticipate facing the original moves? Every move he made was countered by Yin Ci.
Recognizing the situation, Wu Huai shouted, “This is all that woman’s trickery! Sect Master Qu, Taiheng aims to uphold justice. How long will you stand by?!”
Clearly, this was a plea for help.
After a brief exchange of glances between Wu Huai and Hua Jingchun, their eyes quickly shifted away.
Qu Duanyun acted decisively. Upholding the principle of capturing the leader first to defeat the group, he charged directly towards Shi Jingzhi. Shi Jingzhi pretended to chant while holding a jade orb, unfazed and unhurried. As Qu Duanyun’s sword approached, it was simultaneously blocked by a stone sword and a short dagger.
“This is technically our Sect Master,” Su Si, wearing a mask, said with a grin. “If he gets a scratch, my monthly stipend will decrease.”
Yan Qing turned in astonishment. “A’Si, you don’t have a monthly stipend.”
“…Are you dense? It’s just a figure of speech!” Su Si sneered.
No matter how exceptional Qu Duanyun was as a young warrior, he couldn’t handle two formidable opponents simultaneously. Their weapons, one short and one long, one light and one heavy, were contrasting in style. The butcher knife was indeed treacherous, while the Sword of Compassion was upright and heavy. The clash of these contrasting styles gave Qu Duanyun a splitting headache.
Xu Jingming shouted and stepped forward to aid his childhood friend. His martial arts might not be top tier, but his presence was undeniably distracting.
“As expected from a nation’s calamity, you really cause chaos wherever you go. With the soul-summoning artifact in hand, I bet you want to turn the world upside down!” Xu Jingming said assertively, folding his fan.
While Shi Jingzhi continued his faux chanting, it didn’t stop him from rolling his eyes and deftly dodging Qu Duanyun’s attacks.
Suddenly, a painful cry was heard below.
Wu Huai’s arm was sliced by Yin Ci, making his once ethereal face contort in pain. He issued orders with all his might, but no one heeded them—
Upon witnessing Su Zhi’s signature swordsmanship, the followers had no doubts left. They chose the most prudent approach, kneeling and paying respects to the platform. The chaotic ascension ceremony now finally resembled a “grand ceremony”.
Wu Huai claimed to have Su bloodline and wielded Su Zhi’s sword. But with the true Su Zhi present and him not acknowledging this successor, the authenticity of the bloodline and the sword became less important.
Shouts of “Greetings, Patriarch Su” echoed, gradually merging into one, causing the tiles beneath Shi Jingzhi to tremble.
‘But your Patriarch is mine,’ Shi Jingzhi thought smugly.
Only the members of Taiheng were still trying to approach Yin Ci, but they were outnumbered. They were confronted by a group led by Protector Hua, unable to advance.
Yin Ci pinned Wu Huai to the ancient cauldron with his sword before speaking again. He turned to the eight stunned Protectors. “Can’t you tell that the Bone Sweeping Sword is fake?”
He then added dismissively, “I designed this sword myself, and Hua Yi personally forged it. Back then, seeing the sword meant seeing the person. Now all I see is a group of fools who mistake fisheyes for pearls.”
“Patr… Patriarch…”
Shi Jingzhi, noting the commotion, finally stopped his chants. With Yan Qing and Su Si guarding him, he smiled at Qu Duanyun. “Sect Master Qu, this is our second meeting. This troublesome little brother of mine, I have to trouble you to take care of him along the way. Once you return to Yidu…”
His smile became a little twisted.
“…Please send my regards to the Imperial Preceptor.”
Kinky Translations 