Qing Xia let out a long breath and said to the two brothers, Banbuer and Nakedo, “You two go home first and tell your mother so she won’t worry, then bring back a set of robes.”
The two agreed and walked out. Qing Xia remained in the tent, looking at the pale-faced youth. When she had performed chest compressions on him earlier, she had clearly seen countless large and small wounds covering his body—arrow wounds, knife wounds, too numerous to count. What kind of person would inflict such vicious injuries on a thirteen or fourteen-year-old boy? And why did he have Lin Mubai’s painting on him?
At that moment, the feeling of being watched suddenly arose. Qing Xia turned her head to look. The youth had already awakened, but he didn’t speak. He simply watched her coldly, his eyes containing inquiry, observation, caution, and a trace of careful wariness. Like a wolf caught in a trap, his first reaction wasn’t to pounce fiercely, but to cautiously observe the surrounding situation. Qing Xia had no doubt that if she showed even the slightest hint of malevolence now, this youth would charge at her like a leopard to fight desperately—perhaps after first overturning the charcoal fire and throwing dirt at her.
His deeply sunken eye sockets on his gaunt cheeks bore traces of weathering. Looking at the youth’s probing gaze, Qing Xia smiled slightly, but her heart slowly filled with growing sorrow. In these chaotic times, survival was truly difficult.
“It was my two younger brothers who found you. What’s your name?”
Qing Xia used her gentlest, warmest voice, but the wariness on the youth’s face didn’t diminish in the slightest. Instead, he asked even more coldly, “You’re the person in the painting.”
It wasn’t a question, but a definite statement. Qing Xia knew there was no point in saying anything else. She could only take a deep breath, nod, and say, “Yes, I’ve met Lord Lin Mubai once. I’m also very curious to know where you got this painting.”
“Lord Lin Mubai of the Historical Records Bureau?” The youth raised his eyebrow slightly, showing a somewhat heroic air. His narrow eyes half-closed, then slowly shut completely. His brow furrowed slightly, as if contemplating something. After a while, he opened them again, nodded, and said, “Indeed, it’s Lord Lin’s painting style.”
“Then this painting?” Qing Xia’s brow furrowed tightly. She spoke carefully and cautiously, finally asking in a low voice, “Where did you get it from?”
The youth glanced at Qing Xia sideways and remained silent, apparently having no intention of answering her question. Despite his tattered, filthy clothing, it couldn’t conceal his noble and outstanding bearing. He suddenly stood up, straightened his back, and stared directly into Qing Xia’s eyes, examining her carefully. Then he said solemnly, “Meeting you is also fate’s arrangement. I dare not forget the debt of saving my life. Great kindness needs no words of thanks. I take my leave now.” With that, he lifted the tent flap to walk outside.
“Stop!” Qing Xia suddenly called out sternly, her hand moving like lightning to grab the youth’s thin shoulder. His brow immediately furrowed, and she involuntarily loosened her grip. Looking closely, she saw blood seeping through his shoulder—clearly he had suffered serious injuries.
“I won’t ask who you are. This place is far from the emperor’s reach, so you needn’t worry about being hunted down. You’re so severely injured, and in this bitter cold of deep winter, going out will surely mean death.” Qing Xia said in a low voice, her eyes flickering with obvious intensity.
The youth clenched his hands, a trace of faint pain showing between his brows and eyes. After a long while, he still shook his head and said softly, “Thank you for your kindness, but I still cannot stay here.”
“Where can you go?” Qing Xia suddenly stood up from the ground, grabbed the youth’s wrist, and said sternly, “If you had somewhere to go, you wouldn’t have fled beyond the frontier!”
A wave of bitterness suddenly rose slowly from her chest, and many memories of the past rushed through her mind at high speed. She gripped the youth’s hand tightly, thick guilt and self-reproach gnawing at her heart like huge insects. The youth turned his head strangely and raised his eyebrow slightly.
“You think that just because you won’t say who you are, I can’t guess?” Qing Xia’s expression was sorrowful as she smiled faintly, gripping the youth’s hands tightly with both of hers. Finally, she said in a low voice, “Your older brother and your sister—they’re both my friends.”
The youth suddenly turned back to stare at Qing Xia. After a long time, a layer of misty tears suddenly rose in his bright eyes. He quickly turned his head away, and a droplet fell from his gaunt chin onto Qing Xia’s hand.
“I know everything.” Qing Xia gripped the youth’s hand tightly, saying firmly, “I’m not capable enough—I couldn’t save them. But now, I can’t ignore you.”
Outside, the fierce wind howled like a ferocious beast. The world was so vast, and individual power so small and humble, but this coincidence had given her a chance for redemption. Qing Xia took a deep breath and said gently, “Stay and heal your wounds. Whatever you want to do afterward, I won’t stop you.”
“Jema Agu, we’re back!”
The curtain was flung open with a whoosh, and wind and sunlight poured in together.
That night was the first time in over a year that she dreamed of Chu Li.
In the dream, everything was pitch black except for a stark white spotlight shining from overhead. Chu Li wore flowing robes and magnificent clothes, his brilliant dragon robe carrying a suffocating, oppressive atmosphere. The Chu Li in her dream seemed unable to see her, and everything was like a frozen painting. He sat on that golden, dazzling throne in the imperial palace of the capital, surrounded by a sea-deep, deathly black background. Qing Xia’s breathing gradually quickened. She seemed to know she was in a dream, yet it also seemed real—everything was so vivid. Chu Li’s face bore a blade-sharp, cold gleam, and his eyes were like the darkest ocean, seemingly frozen calm on the surface but with towering waves surging beneath.
Suddenly, the palace doors burst open, and sharp air rushed in violently. Outside the hall, an epiphyllum bloomed instantly, its white petals like an enchanting poppy in the dark night. Qing Xia turned her head to watch that enchanting flower, but suddenly saw Xi Lin Yuqiao stepping out from the blossom. She wore white warrior’s clothing, her head held high with proud dignity, showing a girl’s bright smile and complete confidence. She walked step by step into the great hall, slowly extending her hand as if wanting to approach Chu Li. But just then, countless arrows suddenly whistled from the palace entrance like locusts, piercing through her body just as they had before. Blood flowed across the golden hall, staining the white petals and slowly spreading past Qing Xia’s ankles.
Qing Xia covered her mouth tightly, wanting to scream loudly, but her throat seemed mute, unable to make any sound. She reached out with trembling hands, trying to grab Xi Lin Yuqiao’s pale wrist, but what seemed like mere inches felt as distant as the horizon. Qing Xia’s entire body was ice-cold. She wanted to lift her head and loudly question Chu Li, but just then, Chu Li’s features suddenly began rippling like water waves. His skin rapidly aged, wrinkled lines crawling like insects across his forehead and neck. His hair instantly turned gray-white, his hands withered like orange peel, and his entire body suddenly shriveled up as if decades of wind and rain had eroded it, losing all vitality. Suddenly, a sharp arrow pierced straight through his chest. Qing Xia’s eyes widened as she saw the pale-faced youth with a grim expression slowly pulling the sword from Chu Li’s body.
Bright red blood spread across the golden throne. Qing Xia stared at Chu Li in disbelief, her heart feeling as if someone had carved it with a knife, leaving a huge hole through which cold wind whistled, making her entire body ice-cold.
Just then, the aged Chu Li slowly raised his head, looking at Qing Xia with dim, lifeless eyes. He smiled bitterly and shook his head, his voice hoarse like a knife scraping against a bronze drum.
“Do you… still hate me?”
With a puff, Chu Li’s body instantly turned to flying ash and vanished from the throne.
A piercing, real pain stabbed through Qing Xia’s heart. She covered her mouth tightly but still couldn’t suppress the sharp cry that filled the golden hall, like a desperate beast making its final sound of life.
She sat up abruptly and realized it had only been a dream.
Her clothes were soaked with sweat, her hair was wet too, and the room was somewhat cold at night, with cold wind blowing in through the drafty window. Qing Xia put on a jacket, got out of bed, walked to the charcoal brazier to add some coal, then used tongs to pick up the brazier, lifted the curtain, and walked toward the west room.
This was the side room of Aunt Doihua’s house. Previously, only Qing Xia had lived here, but now Xi Lin Chen had moved in as well.
Being able to find the surviving heir of the Xi Lin family was also a great comfort to Qing Xia. That day on the Western Black Wasteland, despite her own injuries, Qing Xia had risked her life multiple times searching for Xi Lin Yu and this child, but ultimately found no results. She never expected that a year later, fate would allow them to meet here.
Qing Xia didn’t pursue questions about Xi Lin Yu’s whereabouts. Perhaps she vaguely knew the outcome and simply didn’t want to confirm it. Often, there was nothing she could do—her abilities were only so much.
Behind the thick cotton curtain, the room was cold and quiet, the brazier already extinguished. Qing Xia set down her brazier and added some coal to the dead one. Soon, the room began to warm up.
She tiptoed to the heated brick bed and felt it with her hand—it was ice-cold. This room had been unoccupied for a long time, the bed’s flue was filled with ash, so it didn’t burn very hot. Qing Xia pushed the charcoal brazier into the bed’s opening and crouched in front to watch carefully. After about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, she reached out to feel again—it was starting to warm up.
The moonlight outside the window was pure and bright, illuminating the white snow-covered ground with brilliant light. She looked down at the youth’s features, thinking he resembled Xi Lin Yu greatly, and around his nose and mouth, bore a slight resemblance to Xi Lin Yuqiao as well. Actually, she hadn’t had very deep connections with the Xi Lin family—she’d only met the Xi Lin siblings a few times. But Xi Lin Yuqiao had ultimately died because of her, and this fact stuck in her throat like a bone, pierced her back like a thorn, making it impossible to forget.