To be honest, Yuan Baifu didn’t understand what those words meant, but they contained the word “fool,” and after a moment’s thought, he understood.

Only then did he realize that Xiao Rong had never shown any sign of fear from beginning to end. He felt puzzled and suddenly heard Xiao Rong ask, “Qu Yunmie treated you so well, why do you hate him so much?”

Yuan Baifu’s attention shifted instantly. He looked at Xiao Rong expressionlessly. “Who said I hated him?”

Hearing this, Xiao Rong raised his eyebrows. “Exactly. You betrayed him, stole his troops, killed his subordinates, and even marched hundreds of miles just to find a place to burn me alive. You really don’t hate him at all.”

Xiao Rong’s face carried a mocking smile, similar to what Yuan Baifu had seen among the people of Southern Yong. When Southern Yong people smiled like this, he restrained himself, but seeing Xiao Rong smile this way, he could not hold back.

“I do not hate Qu Yunmie. I just cannot stand that he has everything. Same origin, same circumstances, yet all the benefits fall on him. He is arrogant, ungrateful, and stupid. Why does everyone only see him? Why does even Heaven favor him? He doesn’t deserve it!”

Xiao Rong no longer smiled. His gaze had no warmth. He looked at Yuan Baifu without even feeling the need to refute him.

Qu Yunmie undeserving? People in Southern Yong could say that, the northern citizens of Han River could barely say it—but Yuan Baifu…

He had the least right to say it!

When the Northern Army had nearly perished, how could Yuan Baifu have escaped alive, if not for Qu Yunmie carving a bloody path for them? In the following ten years, every battle, every charge, was Qu Yunmie at the front, protecting everyone behind him. Now that the Northern Army had split into several factions, Yuan Baifu believed the Left Army had nothing to do with Qu Yunmie, but without Qu Yunmie, where would the Left Army be? What would the commander’s position be? Before the divisions, Yuan Baifu was under Qu Yunmie’s protection.

Regardless, Xiao Rong remained silent. He wouldn’t speak these words.

Yuan Baifu had already trapped himself in a dead end. Xiao Rong saw no need to let him see the truth, or feel regret and beg for forgiveness—just the thought made him nauseous.

Xiao Rong didn’t want such childish revenge. Instead, he wanted to act in the opposite way.

While Yuan Baifu spoke, Xiao Rong tensed his hands, trying to pull one hand out of the tightly bound rope. No matter how he struggled, the metacarpal under his thumb kept getting stuck. He lowered his eyes, pressed the bone with his other hand, and then snapped it hard.

Pain shot through him, making his whole body tremble. Blood seeped from his bitten lip. Yuan Baifu thought he was finally afraid. Yuan Baifu wanted to show that mocking smile, but he couldn’t control his expression. He turned and threw the lamp out. The flames from the oil quickly licked the broken wooden bed and the tattered cloth on it, igniting instantly.

Now Yuan Baifu could see Xiao Rong more clearly. Xiao Rong trembled, sweat running down his forehead. Yuan Baifu felt something was wrong and the next moment, the ropes on Xiao Rong fell off, and he stood up before Yuan Baifu.

Yuan Baifu didn’t anticipate this. Xiao Rong stood too quickly, and Yuan Baifu thought he was attacking. He swung his knife at Xiao Rong, but as soon as it touched him, he felt it push back, returning to its original raised angle.

Yuan Baifu froze.

He didn’t believe it and swung again. Xiao Rong didn’t dodge. He calmly watched Yuan Baifu’s motion. Yuan Baifu aimed for his head, but the knife was again forcefully pushed back before it could touch him.

Yuan Baifu’s face twisted.

He muttered, “Monster, monster…”

Then he snapped back to focus, swinging at Xiao Rong with an even more terrifying expression. Xiao Rong’s expression was enigmatic. He curved his lips into a smile and stepped toward Yuan Baifu. The fire grew, reaching the roof, but they ignored it. Yuan Baifu swung again and again, but no matter how he chopped, Xiao Rong remained unharmed.

When he finally stopped, Xiao Rong looked at him with pity and said, “I am not a monster.

“I am a messenger sent by the immortals to the mortal world. My only task in life is to assist Qu Yunmie, so he can ascend the throne. You say Heaven favors him, but that is not accurate. Heaven serves him. The True Dragon Emperor—you heard of him, right? Qu Yunmie is the incarnation of the True Dragon, the destined Emperor. You think you are like him because you share the same world and environment, but actually, being born and growing up with him is a fortune you could not earn in eight lifetimes. So, in fact, the one favored by Heaven is you.”

Yuan Baifu stared blankly, and Xiao Rong tilted his head. “You were born a subordinate, a servant, a follower. What made you think you could compare to Qu Yunmie? Your gap from him is as wide as the clouds from mud. Otherwise, why did I come to Qu Yunmie’s side, and not to yours?”

Yuan Baifu kept repeating, “No, no, you are a monster, you are a ghost, neither human nor immortal! Qu Yunmie is not the Emperor, he is just a lucky villain! Just because his surname is Qu, he can disregard me as a human, he can be better than me. Without me—”

Xiao Rong interrupted, “Without you, Qu Yunmie would still be Qu Yunmie. In the past six months, without you, he lived better. In the past six months, without him, how did you fare?”

Yuan Baifu froze, then roared and swung at Xiao Rong again. This time, his knife was deflected. Xiao Rong immediately grabbed it while Yuan Baifu was distracted.

Xiao Rong could wield a real sword. Swinging a real blade was nothing to him.

Filled with anger, he swung at Yuan Baifu. Yuan Baifu cried out in pain. Yet Xiao Rong never truly struck, so he didn’t hit vital points. The pain awakened Yuan Baifu. He lunged at Xiao Rong, and in their struggle, Xiao Rong used hands and legs, choking Yuan Baifu and slamming him aside. The unstable earthen tower shook. A beam fell. Xiao Rong recoiled instantly, but Yuan Baifu couldn’t retreat.

With a muffled groan, Yuan Baifu was crushed below. A massive log pressed on his internal organs—right where Xiao Rong had struck him. Yuan Baifu strained to lift his head, trying to speak, but his eyelids slowly closed, and his head fell back to the ground.

Xiao Rong stood in the corner. Behind him, flames spread, in front, fallen beams blocked the way and Yuan Baifu’s life hung in the balance.

He stared at Yuan Baifu, unable to tell if he was alive. The smoke thickened. Yuan Baifu would likely die from inhaling it soon.

At this moment, Xiao Rong could have escaped. If he risked burning his skin and descended before the building collapsed, he could survive.

However, his whole body ached. The injuries to the back of his head, his broken hand, and scrapes from their struggle, as well as his other injuries, and smoke inhalation. He doubted he could make it down.

Even if he did, in his state, he might scare anyone who cared about him.

Currently in Yizhou, he could only scare Qu Yunmie, not anyone else who cared.

No one told Xiao Rong what happened to Qu Yunmie. Yuan Baifu certainly wouldn’t, so Xiao Rong could only imagine. Eventually, he decided not to leave.

The system could only help him now. Regarding the system’s claim that he could not die, after several attempts, Xiao Rong realized it worked in two ways: One was sudden lethal injury, which could not harm him. The other was gradual lethal injury, like drowning or suffocation. He would faint during this process, and the system would transfer him to a nearby safe place. When he woke, he would have no marks.

Xiao Rong valued his life, so he never tested these deliberately. These situations occurred naturally on his way to Qu Yunmie.

Ah Shu admired Xiao Rong for always escaping robbers. Sometimes he scared them off with his immortal body, sometimes he had to “die” once, then pretend nothing happened and get up.

So far, Xiao Rong had only “died” once—drowning. People feared him, thinking he was a spirit, so they threw him in the water and ran.

The feeling of not breathing was agonizing, similar to now. The difference was, in the water he could see nothing but pitch black. Here, he could see everything clearly: flames devouring the tower like monsters. Soon, they would devour him.

Xiao Rong knew it wouldn’t happen. He had an immortal body, like a little demon who had eaten Tang Monk’s flesh. He no longer feared death.

Yet he was still afraid.

He watched the fire engulf the house, smelled the choking smoke, and didn’t know when he might faint. The waiting felt unbearable, as if he awaited true death not rebirth.

He was timid and afraid. Logically, after so many life-and-death experiences, you should no longer fear death so much, but he couldn’t. He remained as timid as when he first encountered danger. Everyone has flaws; this was Xiao Rong’s greatest flaw.

Even so, he thought he had improved slightly. This time, he sat down willingly. Though he was scared, he knew this was best. Before the fire burned him, he would inhale enough carbon monoxide to trigger the system. He wouldn’t feel pain, and upon waking, all injuries would vanish, so there would be no need to recover.

More importantly, when Qu Yunmie arrived, he wouldn’t have to worry anymore.

Good. Everyone could be at ease. When Qu Yunmie was at ease, he was at ease.

His throat felt scraped, and he became uncomfortable. He started coughing. After one fit and nearly coughing up blood, he couldn’t sit anymore. He slowly lay down, looking at the shaky roof. He endured for a long time, but couldn’t hold back.

He whispered, “Qu Yunmie.”

“Qu Yunmie, Qu Yunmie, Qu Yunmie.”

“I asked for you, Qu Yunmie. I found out the reason. He was jealous of you. From now on, you don’t have to think about this question anymore.”

“I didn’t know how to answer you, so I knelt down to you. I should have known everything, after all, I was the one who came to save you.”

“Why is dying always so painful? I was leaving this world, so why did my body have to torment me one more time? Some say it is a physiological mechanism, but if I had the chance, I would surely fight to survive. Yet I have no chance. Why can it not be a little kinder to me?”

“Qu Yunmie, my throat hurts.”

“Qu Yunmie…”

When people were extremely afraid, they called out the name of the person they hoped would protect them. Most people called out for their mother at such times. Xiao Rong had never called anyone’s name before because his relationship with his mother had been ordinary.

Sometimes, it seemed sad. He had no faith. If Mijing was in trouble, he might whisper to Buddha before dying, but Xiao Rong had no one to call.

That had been him in the past. Now he had someone to call.

Yet when he finally spoke the name aloud, Xiao Rong realized that it was even more sorrowful for someone to call for another person, because not everyone was as lucky as he was. Not everyone could see the person they called for after speaking the name. Most spent their last moments in fear and longing.

The scene before him blurred. The roof collapsed. Before Xiao Rong eyes had fully closed, he felt something cold fall on his face. He thought, ‘It’s snowing. Not too heavily, so Qu Yunmie can still find me.’

*

The system was something beyond human understanding, but the world’s operation had nothing to do with the system.

No superpower existed in this world that could make Qu Yunmie hear Xiao Rong’s voice, or hear him repeating his name over and over, just to lessen his fear.

Sometimes, it wasn’t the system, but the world itself bestowing kindness. Qu Yunmie rode hard and suddenly he bent over in pain, clutching his heart that tightened sharply. His other hand gripped the reins, almost twisting them to powder.

The horse’s mane fluttered before his eyes. Qu Yunmie didn’t need to call Xiao Rong’s name, because Xiao Rong filled his mind. Time seemed to vanish. He no longer had a sense of the past or the future, nor did he think of the present. He just ran forward, faster and faster.

Even when his heart ached, he did not stop. The wind whistled, the cold bit, but Qu Yunmie didn’t notice. Snow fell on Xiao Rong’s face and on Qu Yunmie. The first snowfall was heavy. The higher he climbed, the heavier the snow became, until Qu Yunmie resembled a snowman.

The snow made the mountain path muddy. When they finally returned to the earth tower, the couple felt as if they had died several times. They rubbed their eyes several times, staring in shocked at the spot where the tower should have stood.

“This… this… it was here before! Sir, I am not lying!”

It was still dark. Their eyesight was poor, so they hadn’t seen the small mound covered in snow. They tried to explain to the other soldiers, but Qu Yunmie had already dismounted. He strode to the ruins. The snow had extinguished the fire, but not the smell of embers in the air. His feet seemed nailed to the ground. He stood stiff and straight.

Dongfang Jin looked at the scene in disbelief. He had lost the ability to speak. He looked at Qu Yunmie, trying desperately to comfort him. Suddenly, Qu Yunmie rushed toward the ruins, lifting chunks of debris and throwing them aside.

The top was cold, icy from the snow, but below it was hot, some parts still burning. Qu Yunmie removed the upper debris and continued to move the lower pieces. Even the roughest hands turned into roasted pig trotters under such heat. Qu Yunmie’s skin scorched, then his flesh blackened, but it did not end there, because fire never spared anyone.

No one tried to stop him. No one thought they could. They only followed and helped lift. The couple remained where they were, staring in disbelief, unable to understand why the Northern Army tormented themselves.

Were they not afraid of pain?

After a short while, one of them gasped in the cold air. Qu Yunmie stiffened but didn’t hesitate. He pushed through the crowd and saw a charred corpse.

It was difficult to recognize, but Qu Yunmie’s tense expression slightly eased. He drew his side sword, and chopped the corpse in half, kicking the pieces into the snow. He turned to face the ruins and continued moving the charred remains.

Believing there were survivors here was as foolish as believing the sun would rise from the west. Qu Yunmie didn’t know what motivated him to move these bricks. It was like a giant silent film. No one spoke, complained, or advised. Everyone worked. The ruins were not very big. Once the debris was moved, it was over.

When Xiao Rong emerged from the nearby woods, he saw this scene. That tall figure bent, repeatedly lifting and carrying debris like a dock worker. He didn’t tire or feel pain. He slipped on a piece of wood, fell into the ruins, but silently got up and continued his work in the dead silence.

When facing thick smoke, Xiao Rong could have called Qu Yunmie’s name many times easily, but now, it was difficult to speak those two words.

He opened his mouth. The first attempt was silent. He paused, then spoke again. This time, he heard his unsteady voice.

“Qu Yunmie.”

The voice was soft, barely louder than the falling snow. No other soldiers heard it. The couple, closer to Xiao Rong, also didn’t hear it.

Qu Yunmie heard.

The bricks in his hands dropped, but he didn’t turn immediately. He feared he was hallucinating. He turned, saw nothing, but Qu Yunmie never ignored hallucinations. Even if it were a hallucination, he would face it.

This was not a hallucination.

He saw Xiao Rong standing there, unharmed.

The other soldiers, seeing Qu Yunmie suddenly rise, looked over. Everyone was shocked. A young soldier opened his mouth to shout “Sir Xiao,” but Dongfang Jin quickly covered his mouth.

…

Xiao Rong took hesitant steps forward, slow steps. Qu Yunmie watched as he walked one, two steps.

Suddenly, Qu Yunmie ran toward him. Xiao Rong’s vision blurred. Then came the fierce impact. Qu Yunmie pressed against him like a wall. Xiao Rong felt trapped in his arms. The air smelled of dust, rubble, smoke, snow, and blood. Qu Yunmie’s arms tightened like constricting snakes. Xiao Rong felt he couldn’t breathe.

He knew he shouldn’t push Qu Yunmie away, but he was almost suffocating. He lifted his healed hand, about to touch Qu Yunmie’s shoulder when he heard a faint sob.

Xiao Rong’s eyes widened. His arms froze. Qu Yunmie buried his head in his shoulder. Xiao Rong couldn’t see his expression. Afterward, he heard nothing, only felt a slight wetness.

It was snowing, who could say for sure what it was? Perhaps it was just a few snowflakes.

Xiao Rong thought this and, enduring the suffocating pain, turned the hand he had meant to push Qu Yunmie away into an embrace. He looked at the snow swirling in the distance and thought again: It’s so cold, my face is getting covered in snowflakes!

 

Edited by: Antiope

 

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