Chapter 70.2: “What I Sold…”
“Snow again.” Wu Heng moved the stool closer to the stove and tilted his head to glance outside. “Looks like Dou Lu’s prediction about the magnetic field change was off.”
Ruan Silian sat down and added more wood; the fire flared up again.
“I just wanted to give her a hand.”
Wu Heng made a soft sound of acknowledgment. “Even if you didn’t, it doesn’t matter.”
He paused, then added, “It has nothing to do with me.”
The fire burned for a while longer, and the snow kept falling.
Ruan Silian pulled the wood splinter from under her nail; fresh blood welled out immediately. She spoke first:
“Actually, it wasn’t just Li Shu. There was also Du Yaoyuan. That night, when Zhao Mingxiang came calling for people, I didn’t think much about it—I just didn’t want to go. Maybe I also felt that them coming to summon us in the middle of the night was rude and presumptuous. And in the moment Du Yaoyuan stepped outside, I realized completely… I’m no longer who I used to be.
“I’ve become selfish. I lie. I use the people around me. And later, I might go even further. I’ve turned away from the things I used to insist on, the things I once held sacred. And yet, I don’t think of it as betrayal. I think… it’s a sign that I’ve grown up.”
She paused. “Even though I don’t really like the person I’ve grown into.”
Wu Heng rested his chin on his knees, eyes lowered.
“I told you—it has nothing to do with me. So you don’t need to worry about me telling the others.”
Ruan Silian blinked for two seconds, then smiled faintly.
“You figured it out?”
“Mm. Otherwise you wouldn’t suddenly bring all this up to me.” Wu Heng yawned.
Ruan Silian was about to continue when someone knocked on the door outside.
She went to open it.
Zhang Jinya stood there with her arms wrapped around herself. The coat was gone. Blood and tears streaked her face. She clenched her teeth, and her eyes gleamed faintly as she looked at Ruan Silian.
“I’ve made up my mind.”
Ruan Silian fetched water for her to wash her face and prepared a large bundle of supplies—mostly clothing and food—then handed it to Zhang Jinya along with a hatchet.
“The snow’s so heavy—why don’t you stay for a while before you go?” Ruan Silian asked worriedly.
“No need. If I don’t leave now, my brother will definitely come after me. When I used to stream, I traveled all over the country. Around Hanzhou especially—I’ve basically been everywhere. There’s a small town a little over twenty kilometers away. I’ll go stay there first.”
After refusing to stay the night, Zhang Jinya stepped back into the snow. Amid the swirling flakes, she turned her head and said:
“I feel like my life just restarted.”
Ruan Silian watched her leave.
“She’s really good at cooking. We could have actually kept her here,” she said softly as she sat beside Wu Heng.
Wu Heng replied nonchalantly, “Then you’d be optional.”
Ruan Silian didn’t say anything further.
The wind and snow grew even more violent, though the temperature didn’t drop drastically. The howling wind, like wolves crying, made it impossible to sleep.
X lay stretched out between Wu Heng and Lin Mengzhi. Facing Wu Heng, it buried itself in his soft, warm chest fur to avoid feeling cold.
The next day, the snow had deepened, and Lin Mengzhi and Dou Lu both thought training could be paused for a day.
But Xue Shen said that one must endure the hardest hardships.
Ruan Silian handed out fur hats, leather gloves, and long wool scarves to everyone. They bundled themselves even more thoroughly than in previous days. Only Lin Mengzhi fared slightly better—being fire-type, he was less affected by the cold, a walking heater in motion.
Wu Heng also held out his hands toward Ruan Silian. “I want some too.”
“You’re going up the mountain with them?” Ruan Silian still had extra hats in hand, though not enough for everyone. “It’s so cold—you should stay at home.”
Wu Heng shook his head. “I want to eat fresh food.”
Dou Lu muttered, “That wolf meat isn’t fresh enough? It hasn’t even been a few days.”
Lin Mengzhi pursed his lips. “He wants it alive, running around.”
Only then did Ruan Silian hand the remaining hat toward Wu Heng. Halfway through, a muscular hand shot out, snatched the hat, and tossed it aside.
Everyone turned curiously to see Xie Chongyi, who had grabbed the hat.
Xie Chongyi moved slowly, his eyes calm and unshaken by the attention of others. “Alive? Wait at home.”
The group left.
Xue Qi sat by the door, staring outside, a look of longing on his face.
“Wu Heng?” When footsteps sounded behind him, Xue Qi suddenly turned. “My leg hurts a bit.”
Wu Heng looked puzzled.
Xue Qi grimaced. “Isn’t your ability supposed to stop pain? My leg’s been hurting since last night.”
“Why didn’t you say earlier?” Wu Heng had already started up the stairs, but he turned back and crouched in front of Xue Qi.
Xue Qi pulled the blanket off his legs. “I didn’t want my brother to worry. You’d understand, right? If it were you, you wouldn’t tell Lin Mengzhi or Wu Zhi either.”
Wu Heng nodded. “I wouldn’t tell. Even if I did, it wouldn’t help.”
“…”
Beneath the blanket, both of Xue Qi’s lower legs showed a bluish-purple hue. The fat and muscle had long since disappeared, leaving them like dried, unsupported branches.
In this condition, Xue Qi shouldn’t even be able to feel pain. The nerves in his legs were completely necrotic. That he still had sensation meant there was hope for recovery—though Dr. Chen had said it was impossible unless the tissue could regenerate.
Seeing that Wu Heng didn’t move right away, Xue Qi grew anxious. “They haven’t hurt for a while, but yesterday they suddenly started hurting a bit.”
Wu Heng placed his palm on Xue Qi’s lower leg. His hand was icy cold. The pink under his nails was faint; even without sensing directly, Xue Qi could perceive the subtle chill visually.
The poppy-like strands extended into both of the necrotic legs. They were stronger than before, yet more gentle and applied for shorter durations, providing a far greater sense of comfort.
“Thank you.” The pain gradually faded, and Xue Qi said gratefully.
Wu Heng withdrew his hand. “It’s nothing.”
After everyone staying at home rested, only Ruan Silian remained busy. She was preparing the afternoon meal in advance, so that when everyone returned, they could eat hot food immediately. She also organized stacks of wolf pelts cut into pieces, planning to make more clothes and seat cushions to take along when they set out again.
A whole slab of wolf ribs had been specially thawed by Lin Mengzhi before he left. Ruan Silian cut it into pieces about ten centimeters long, salted them, and planned to make a pot of braised rib rice in the afternoon.
At the door, Zhang Jinnan stood silently, unnoticed.
Ruan Silian noticed someone behind her. She frowned slightly and looked back, immediately seeing the man’s face, tightly controlled with suppressed anger. “You are…”
“Where’s my sister?” Zhang Jinnan clenched his fists.
Ruan Silian instantly realized who he was—Zhang Jinya’s brother.
It was her first time seeing him.
“I haven’t seen her,” she said.
“Nonsense!” Zhang Jinnan’s eyes blazed with fury. “She ran out last night and hasn’t come back! In the middle of nowhere, she only knows you lot. If she’s not with you, where else could she be? I’m telling you, don’t think you can hide her, I—”
“Who are you?” Xue Qi appeared, rolling the wheelchair forward.
Without hesitation, Zhang Jinnan snapped, “Stay the hell away, you useless cripple. Did I ask to talk to you?”
Xue Qi’s face went pale, but he quickly regained his composure.
Ruan Silian’s expression turned slightly cold. “I told you, we haven’t seen your sister.”
Seeing Zhang Jinnan about to erupt again, she added, “You can search for her yourself.”
Zhang Jinnan was about to agree, but sensing that her offer to let him search might be a trap, he sneered. “You think I’m stupid?”
Ruan Silian said nothing. Zhang Jinnan, however, noticed that her tightly clenched fists had relaxed.
“Fine, I’ll search. But if I find out you were hiding my sister, you’ll owe us two hundred pounds of meat.”
Noticing her unusual calm, Zhang Jinnan quickly changed tactics and shoved her aside, beginning to ransack the first floor.
Nothing was found.
But on the second floor, there was Wu Heng.
Wu Heng was teaching X to read.
“If the day has ended, and the birds no longer sing—”
X: “Birds.”
“If the wind has grown tired, then cover me tightly with the veil of darkness—”
X lifted one wing and draped it over Wu Heng’s head.
Wu Heng subtly rolled his eyes, but before he could lift the wing, he heard two soft coos from the swollen chest of the bird beside him.
The next moment, the mutated bird let out a piercing, shrill cry that echoed through the entire room.
Wu Heng covered his ears and leaned out, locking eyes with the man frozen at the doorway.
The boy had just been reciting Gitanjali, his expression still soft and gentle, showing no hint of aggression.
But Zhang Jinnan knew better. This was not someone harmless. This was the same monster who, on the very first day, had gutted Zhou Bo completely and devoured him without a trace.
Why would someone this powerful still stay at home? Zhang Jinnan swallowed hard, his heart hammering violently, while Wu Heng’s expression had slowly darkened ever since Zhang Jinnan appeared.
The unusually large, almost dreamlike bird slowly climbed up the green vines at the head of the bed. The finely featured boy leaned against the headboard, holding the poetry collection in his hands.
No matter how one looked at it, the scene didn’t seem scary.
Yet Zhang Jinnan howled like a banshee and ran down the stairs. Behind him, the vines crept lazily down the banister.
The man bolted out the front door and fell to the ground. Just as he was getting up—thunk!
A vine pierced his back, driving through his body. The portion of the vine that had passed through him turned red, twisted like a snake, and retracted back through his body.
Ruan Silian, holding Xue Qi’s wheelchair, watched the scene with a dazed expression, her face pale and delicate like a white peony.
Wu Heng had never appeared in person. The vines had killed the man, cleaned up the scene, tossed Zhang Jinnan’s body outside, and swept the blood into a neat pile. Only then did the vines tremble slightly and retreat upstairs.
Xue Qi was amazed. “I thought it would eat him!”
Ruan Silian pushed him back into the warmth of the room. “Maybe… ordinary people aren’t tasty?”
The vines had frozen, and upon returning, they wedged themselves under the root of the large bird’s wings, only to be bitten viciously twice by X.
The bird and the vine tumbled and played around the room.
Wu Heng smelled the metallic tang of blood from outside. He flipped his book back and continued to recite:
“Thunder roars in the sky. Darkness trembles at the lightning. Lay your tattered mat in the courtyard. Our king arrives suddenly amidst the terror of the night, accompanied by the storm.”
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Author’s note:
Gitanjali by Rabindranath Tagore…