Lin Chaoyu looked at Fu Hua, then at Arthur, finally succumbing to the temptation of food.
She began eating in small bites, reserved at first but gradually speeding up, though she remained quiet and ate very politely.
Arthur sat on the other side, not touching his chopsticks, just watching Fu Hua.
Fu Hua picked up her porridge bowl, took a sip, then met his gaze.
“Ran into some trouble,” she said succinctly.
“A few low-level Demons harassed this child’s village.
I arrived too late, only managed to save her.”
Arthur gave an “mm,” his gaze falling on her left shoulder.
“Hurt?”
“It’s nothing, just a flesh wound.
Already taken care of.”
Fu Hua’s tone was calm, as if discussing the weather.
But Arthur knew that if it could make her bleed, even if just a “flesh wound,” it probably wasn’t some “low-level Demons.”
Moreover, being delayed for five days couldn’t be just about rescuing someone.
Cleanup, reassurance, perhaps tracking…
He didn’t press further, just nodded.
“Eat first, rest well after.
For Chaoyu’s place to stay…
temporarily share my room?
I can fit a small bed in there.”
“No need,” Fu Hua put down her bowl.
“We can clean up the small room next to the Quiet Chamber.”
It was a storage room for miscellaneous items, not large, but suitable for a child once tidied up.
“Alright, I’ll clean it up later.” Arthur didn’t insist.
The meal ended in silence, mainly with Lin Chaoyu eating while the two adults were lost in their own thoughts.
Fu Hua was genuinely tired, while Arthur was digesting this sudden change.
After the meal, Fu Hua took Lin Chaoyu to wash up and rest.
Arthur took a broom and rag to clean the small room.
Amid the flying dust, he worked efficiently, but his mind was unsettled.
Lin Chaoyu.
This name…
he felt it sounded somewhat familiar.
Where had he heard it?
Wait.
A jolt, as if ice water had been poured over his head, Arthur froze mid-action.
He abruptly sat up straight.
In his mind, the system interface seemed to sense his intense emotional fluctuations and automatically surfaced.
A new, glaring prompt was flashing coldly.
[Detected historical figure ‘Lin Chaoyu’ appearing.
Analyzing relevance…]
[Relevance confirmed: Target figure ‘Lin Chaoyu’ is one of the key tragic nodal figures in the ‘Scarlet Requiem: Sorrow’ worldline, originally the first disciple under the Red Kite Immortal (not yet recorded in the current timeline).]
[Warning: Early intervention by a key figure may have unpredictable effects on the worldline restoration process.
Please proceed with caution, Mender.]
Lin Chaoyu.
The first disciple of the Red Kite.
Future head of the Tai Xu Seven Disciples.
Also…
one of those who ultimately joined forces to kill their master.
Arthur’s fingers gripping the broom turned slightly white from the force.
He slowly turned his head, his gaze seeming to penetrate the wall, seeing into the Quiet Chamber next door, where that small, timid little girl had just been brought back by Fu Hua.
Is it her?
That Lin Chaoyu who would betray her master in the future, participate in that brutal siege, and ultimately lead to Fu Hua’s death and the dissipation of her cultivation?
That…
one of the disciples who left Fu Hua with the sorrowful question ‘Why did it have to be like this?’ lingering in the deepest recesses of her soul?
It felt like a stone was lodged in his chest, heavy, cold, and hard.
He had always known this day might come.
He knew Fu Hua would have disciples in the future, knew the gears of tragedy had long since begun to turn.
But when this ‘future’ truly appeared before his eyes in the form of a living, vulnerable child, the impact far exceeded his expectations.
Hate?
Disgust?
Looking at that sallow little face, those wide, frightened eyes, Arthur found it difficult to harbor such intense negative emotions toward a child who had just lost everything and was still trembling in fear.
But vigilance and sorrow inevitably spread within him.
Is the inertia of history really this powerful?
Even though this ‘butterfly’ had been flapping its wings for five or six years, trying to warm that soul destined for sorrow, would the people who were supposed to appear still come to her side, in one way or another, as arranged by fate?
Could all his efforts over these six years—those mornings digging potatoes together, those evenings sharing meals, those trivial, warm daily routines—truly not change this predetermined trajectory?
‘Zhaoer.’
A cool voice sounded at the door, interrupting Arthur’s turbulent thoughts.
He turned to see Fu Hua standing at the doorway, her face still somewhat pale, but her eyes had regained their usual calm.
She had changed into clean clothes, and no abnormality could be seen on her left shoulder.
‘How is the cleaning going?’ she asked, her gaze sweeping across the room.
‘Almost done. You are reading on g.com, the official source.
One more wipe, then lay out the bedding, and it’ll be ready to live in.’ Arthur suppressed the turmoil in his heart, trying to make his voice sound normal.
Fu Hua walked in and looked around.
The small room wasn’t large, but Arthur had cleaned it until the windows were bright and the old furniture shone.
‘You’ve worked hard,’ she said softly.
Arthur shook his head and continued with his task.
‘Not at all.
But you…
are you really alright?’
He couldn’t help but ask again.
Fu Hua fell silent for a moment, walked to the window, and looked out at the gradually deepening twilight.
‘That Demon was somewhat troublesome.
It possessed an Ancient Artifact and used the villagers’ hearts to cause trouble, requiring considerable effort to deal with,’ she explained briefly.
‘As for Chaoyu…
that child has a resilient nature.
She witnessed the tragedy but didn’t collapse, following me all the way without crying or making a fuss.
I saw that her foundation was decent, and she had nowhere to go, so I brought her back.’
She paused, turned, and looked at Arthur.
‘You seem…
preoccupied?’
Arthur’s wiping paused for a moment before he smiled.
‘Not at all.
It’s just that I didn’t expect you to go out and come back with a little junior sister.
It’s a bit sudden.’
Fu Hua looked at him, her azure eyes reflecting the light from outside the window, as well as the habitual smile on his face that seemed to lack something.
‘You don’t like her?’ she asked directly.
Arthur was at a loss for words.
Dislike?
Not exactly.
But like?
Definitely not.
‘No, it’s just that…
I feel the responsibility has grown heavier,’ he weighed his words carefully.
‘Raising a child isn’t easy, especially such a young girl.’