The white-spotted horse had not run far; it stopped before a massive boulder protruding from the mountain wall. Perched upon the giant rock, a short-haired youth dressed in vivid, fiery-red robes sat cross-legged. One hand hung loosely at his side, while the other was bent to support his chin, his gaze cast into the distance with an air of idle boredom.
The mountain breeze caused his hair to flutter slightly and swayed the long earring hanging from his left ear. The luster of the pearl flickered, casting patches of dancing light onto his left cheek.
He sat upon the boulder, yet there was no shadow of him on its surface—a sign that the youth was not a living person, but a ghost.
It was clearly the “Lin Qingyun” who had just had his throat slit and his heart pierced.
It was only a single slash to the throat and a puncture to the heart; the limited cultivation of the opponent and that blade, which lacked any true killing power, could not cause Lin Qingyun any substantive harm.
He didn’t even need to shed his skin; it was entirely unnecessary… But Lin Qingyun had done so anyway, creating the appearance of having died.
Lin Qingyun muttered to himself, “This is actually a good opportunity—hm, besides, it’s not far from Wen County anyway. I’ve already taught Xiao He breathing and meditation, and I’ve even taught her a set of sword moves. That should be enough for her to deal with ordinary people.”
“Giving a man a fish is not as good as teaching him how to fish. No matter how much I teach, it’s naturally not as good as her gaining experience through personal trial… I can’t really spend my whole life being Lin Qingyun, accompanying her to seek apprenticeship and study, becoming a world-renowned master, only to fight myself in the end? Though, Xiao He definitely couldn’t beat me.”
“I am a very busy person, after all. Where would I find the time to wander around with a little kid? Playing with her for a few days is enough; playing any longer would be meaningless—”
As he spoke, he was already finding excuses for his behavior.
In reality, these were merely ornaments covering his actions. There was only one reason he was moved to take this chance to fake his death and leave He Zhuoming: He Zhuoming was too strange.
He couldn’t even understand why he had agreed to He Zhuoming’s request, letting her stay behind to dig graves with him and sending her to Wen County—sometimes he was on the verge of feeling a sense of respect for this weak little girl, because she could easily manipulate his emotions while remaining completely oblivious to the situation herself.
Clearly weak, powerless, and pitiable.
Yet she actually stood on equal footing with him.
However, after sitting in a daze for a while, Lin Qingyun suddenly began to mutter to himself again: “Now that I’m dead, I don’t know how Xiao He will cry.”
“Sigh, she loves to cry so much as it is; she must have been scared out of her wits—cultivator conflicts shouldn’t involve mortals, but blood was shed and people died after all… She’ll be hungry once she’s done crying, but I left behind that huge bag of snacks, enough to last her until Wen County… Say something.”
He suddenly kicked the white-spotted horse standing to the side.
The white-spotted horse remained silent for a moment, pondering his intentions before cautiously speaking: “Then, would you like to go back and check on her?”
Lin Qingyun scoffed, “Go back? It was to shake off this trouble that I staged my death and escaped—you want me to go back? If she clings to me crying in a moment, are you going to be the one to pull her off?”
“If your mouth doesn’t know how to speak, you can keep it shut. You keep saying things as useless as your own brain.”
The white-spotted horse closed its mouth, then shook its head very lightly.
It still had that bamboo hat on its head; for the horse, the hat didn’t fit properly, and wearing it was uncomfortable, constantly making its head itch.
Lin Qingyun caught a glimpse of the bamboo hat, and his face turned cold instantly: “Why are you still wearing that hat?”
White-spotted horse: “…”
Lin Qingyun was very unhappy and said, “Xiao He is weak and already pitiful enough, and you actually had to take away her hat—what is a strong, healthy dragon like you wearing a hat for? Has your conscience been eaten by a dog?”
The white-spotted horse continued to ponder his intentions, replying calmly: “I will return it to her.”
Lin Qingyun didn’t buy this answer either: “You return it to her, and then you’ll just let yourself be kept by her, taking the opportunity to slack off and avoid work, right? Qingyang, I never thought you were a dragon so fond of ease and comfort. Go back yourself and close your doors to reflect on your mistakes.”
Hearing this, the white-spotted horse sighed in relief; its superior was only asking it to go back and reflect, not to eat dragon meat—this was a good thing.
It transformed into human form—becoming a handsome youth in green robes—removed the bamboo hat from its head, held it with both hands in a very respectful manner, placed it at Lin Qingyun’s feet, and then retreated with great agility.
Lin Qingyun hooked the bamboo hat with one finger, spinning it on his fingertip.
He stared at the continuously rotating bamboo hat, lost in thought. One moment he wondered how He Zhuoming would deal with his “corpse,” and the next he wondered if He Zhuoming was still crying.
He had always known he was a person with a great sense of responsibility and kindness, but he hadn’t expected his sense of responsibility to be this strong, worrying so much about Xiao He, whom he had only taught the basics.
But on second thought, Lin Qingyun mumbled to himself, “It’s normal to worry. I’ve never taken a disciple before. Since I was the one who taught Xiao He the initiation, what difference is there between her and my disciple?”
“There’s no logic in the world for a master to abandon their disciple…”
As he spoke, Lin Qingyun suddenly stopped his hand, grabbed the bamboo hat, and stood up—he had almost convinced himself with his own words, deciding to go back and find He Zhuoming.
However, after jumping off the boulder, Lin Qingyun halted his steps.
A powerful premonition seized Lin Qingyun’s feet. He suddenly recalled how “strange” Xiao He was.
He looked down at the bamboo hat he had woven, then remembered He Zhuoming’s face as she jumped in front of him with her sword strapped to her back, speaking with a wide smile; in that instant, a warning instinctively erupted from the bottom of Lin Qingyun’s heart.
Stay away from her—stay away from her!
Stay far away from her, or you won’t even know how you died.
The premonitions in the bottom of Lin Qingyun’s heart had never been wrong. The one time he hadn’t listened, he had paid a painful price for it.
An invisible external force squeezed down, instantly crushing the bamboo hat in Lin Qingyun’s hand into fine pieces. He lowered his hand, shaking off the remaining fragments from his palm, preparing to walk further away.
He figured that since the mountain range was so large, it wouldn’t matter if he spent ten days or half a month roaming before returning to his body; by then, Xiao He would have left.
He was a very busy person, after all. Abandoning his own affairs to take care of Xiao He to this extent—he could practically be voted the kindest person in the heavens and on earth—even if he were Xiao He’s own father, doing it to this degree would be considered a very successful father.
Lin Qingyun muttered to himself, “A huge loss. She didn’t even call me ‘Father’ once…”
Just as he was muttering to himself, he suddenly felt water droplets fall onto his cheeks. Lin Qingyun reached out to touch his face, but he didn’t feel any traces of water.
He froze for a moment, then immediately thought of his corpse lying somewhere—the body and the soul maintained a certain connection; if someone’s tears fell onto his face, then his soul would feel it too.
After saying the word “mortal,” the black-clad youth disappeared like a gust of wind, leaving He Zhuoming behind, sitting alone on the ground in a daze.
She was stunned, not even noticing that her chin had been cut—until a wind blowing through the trees passed by. It was a slightly warm wind, yet it made He Zhuoming shiver.
She jumped up, her hands and feet cold and stumbling as she threw herself next to Lin Qingyun and flipped him over.
His face was a paper-like pale. The eyes that were usually curved in a smile were now quietly closed, his long, dense eyelashes meeting.
He Zhuoming didn’t even have time to react to the possibility that he might be dead; tears came first, falling drop by drop onto his deathly still face, blurring the spots of blood stained on his cheeks.
“Wuwuwu Lin Qingyun… Lin Qingyun, you won’t, you won’t be dead, right, wuwuwu—”
As He Zhuoming cried, she reached out to touch his neck to see if there was still warmth or a pulse.
She couldn’t feel any warmth or pulse; she only touched hands full of slippery, icy blood—the wet, slippery sensation of the blood seemed to spread from her fingers into her heart, and He Zhuoming began to cry even louder.
She cried as she touched Lin Qingyun’s heart, only for another pool of blood to splash out from the unhealed wound; He Zhuoming couldn’t stop her tears now.
Lin Qingyun had died so inexplicably. Could a male protagonist actually die?
The horse he kept had also run away… and he even said it was a dragon; it was obviously not even as good as a dog, running away faster than anyone else when encountering an enemy!
He Zhuoming sniffed, holding Lin Qingyun’s corpse and sobbing: “You, you say you, wuwuwu… don’t know… don’t know women… it’s fine… but how could you also… not know horses… wuwuwu…”
“I don’t even, I don’t even know who that murderer was, or what kind of grudge they had against you, wuwuwu… You’re dead, what should I do if you’re dead—will this world break, wuwuwu—”
By the end, He Zhuoming didn’t even know what she was rambling about. Her emotions were in such a state of chaos right now that she needed to say all sorts of messy things to vent them.
As she cried, half of it was because she had been frightened, and half was for Lin Qingyun.
Because in all fairness, He Zhuoming felt that Lin Qingyun was already her good friend.
Although the horse he kept had abandoned him, she, as a friend, would absolutely not abandon him!
He Zhuoming made up her mind, climbed up while sobbing, and found the wooden sword she had dropped to the side, determined to use it to dig a grave for Lin Qingyun; she couldn’t let the only friend she had in this world be exposed in the wilderness!
Although the wooden sword couldn’t compare to a shovel, it had the advantage of being hard.
He Zhuoming dug until the sun went down behind the hills, and she actually dug a decent-looking earthen pit. She jumped into the pit to test the depth and, feeling it was suitable for burying someone, pushed Lin Qingyun’s body inside.
She even found some wild flowers nearby whose names she didn’t know, pulled them out by the roots, and placed them on Lin Qingyun’s body.
Seeing that half a day had passed and Lin Qingyun’s face was beginning to turn a stiff, pale blue—He Zhuoming sadly took a cluster of green leaves with purple flowers and placed it on his face, covering Lin Qingyun’s face.
He Zhuoming muttered to the corpse: “That, didn’t you have a begonia flower on your sword hilt? I think you must really like flowers, so I dug up a lot of them, and I’ll bury them with you. In the future, your grave will surely be covered in fresh flowers.”
“Sigh, rest in peace. Don’t worry, I’ve already remembered the murderer’s face—I will definitely cultivate diligently in the future, go find a reputable orthodox sect to become an apprentice, and then help you take revenge!”
“After I help you take revenge, I’ll go home. I’m a person who keeps my word…”
Just as He Zhuoming was chanting, a voice suddenly rose faintly from beneath the green leaves and purple flowers: “Really? Is that true?”