Qi Changying felt as though he were living in a dream these past few days.
It was as if a part of his soul had departed with his father. After that, the person controlling this body was him, yet also not him. He knew clearly what he should do and what he was doing, but none of it felt particularly real to him. The real him was locked away in the deepest part of his heart by reason. All he could do was hold on to all the emotions he could not reveal to others and watch as the other half of himself, separated from him and still clearheaded, went about his business and took care of everything.
He simply watched and waited.
It was as though, at some moment, he would wake from the dream, and Qi Boming would appear before him as usual, his face stern as he asked whether he had completed his lessons and training for the day.
But in reality, that moment never came.
Instead, everything had already been arranged. The morning after tomorrow, he would set off for the capital with his father’s coffin to give him a proper burial.
What was he supposed to do?
It seemed that this dream would really never end.
After realizing this, Qi Changying walked out of the military camp alone.
He did not want anyone to see him, nor did he want to speak to anyone. So he went alone to a desolate place near the camp and found a secluded corner beneath a low hill, where he sat down.
He did not even know what he intended to do by sitting there. There were still so many matters in the camp waiting for him to make decisions and take charge of them. He really should not be wasting his time here.
Perhaps he simply wanted to think quietly about some things in a place where no one would disturb him.
But when he actually settled down, his mind also became blank. There was nothing to think about and nothing to do.
So he simply stayed there, staring at the small patch of land before him. He remained alone from dawn until dusk, as though he wanted to become part of this place, no longer concerned with the complexities of the mortal world, accompanying the blue-gray stones and withered grass until the end of time.
Qi Changying was still wearing mourning clothes. The coarse hemp fabric was very thin, and when the night wind blew, the chill seeped right through him.
But he seemed completely unaware of the cold. Or perhaps something a hundred times heavier than the cold was occupying his senses, making temperature the least significant thing in the world at that moment.
Qi Changying felt as though he were missing something, but he could not say exactly what it was.
He slowly curled his fingers and raised his eyes to the sky.
The sky was unusually clear tonight. A round moon hung overhead, especially large and bright.
The moonlight poured down gently, casting a faint layer of light over the wilderness.
Qi Changying sighed softly.
He lowered his eyes, wanting to avoid looking at the moon, but in the next instant, another light unexpectedly appeared in his eyes.
He froze slightly and looked closely.
He saw tiny, faint points of light, as small as fireflies. He did not know when they had appeared in the night, but they were now floating quietly around him.
Qi Changying knew that fireflies would not appear in such a desolate, cold place as the Northwest.
Then what were these points of light gathering around him…?
While he was briefly lost in thought, more and more white points of light appeared around him, as though the stars in the sky had descended into the mortal world.
They did not go anywhere. They simply floated quietly around Qi Changying, seeming to feel that he was too lonely and isolated sitting alone in the endless darkness, so they deliberately came to his side to keep him company for a little while.
For some reason, Qi Changying could feel an inexplicable sense of familiarity coming from them.
It was a presence he knew better than anything else.
Qi Changying stared at the lights in a daze, but for a moment, he still did not dare to believe it.
Without hope, there could be no disappointment. Without gaining something, there could be no loss. He was afraid that things were not as he imagined. He was afraid he would be unable to hold on to anything. He was afraid that, in the end, it would still be a dream, leaving him with nothing.
But…
One of the points of light gently landed on Qi Changying’s cheek. In fact, he felt nothing at all, because it had neither touch nor temperature. Yet he somehow felt that it was a gentle caress.
A faint, aching sensation immediately welled up in Qi Changying’s eyes.
His mother had passed away early. Ever since he could remember, he had always been by his father’s side.
Everything he knew now was taught to him by his father, step by step. His father had taught him to write and accompanied him in practicing martial arts. His uncles and elders said that his father was a peerless hero in the world. Qi Changying himself had also seen his father return in triumph and glory, wearing a pheasant-feather plume on his head, looking very majestic.
He still remembered that, as a child, he would often pat his chest and say he wanted to be just like his father and become a great hero who protected all the people of the world.
But being the child of a hero, or becoming a hero in the future, was no easy task. In Qi Changying’s memories, his father was very strict with him most of the time.
His father said that this was the necessary tempering required to become a hero. He had to distinguish right from wrong, and do his very best in both civil and martial pursuits. Only by growing strong enough would he have the ability to protect his country and its people in the future, bringing peace and tranquility to the world.
Therefore, in most of Qi Changying’s memories, his father always had a stern expression. That expression was somewhat fierce, but also imposing. Others said that this was the bearing of a great general.
Of course, apart from strict training, there were also tender moments between father and son.
For example, in late summer and early autumn, the weather at the border became especially cool. When the fighting stopped and the soldiers had free time at night, they would light bonfires in open spaces. Everyone would sit together, chatting, laughing, eating, and drinking.
Such leisurely activities were rare, and his father always took him along.
When he was little, his father would hold him and let him sit on his lap. When he grew a little older, his father would have him sit close beside him.
Qi Changying liked those moments.
In his memories, the wind on those nights was cool, but the flames warmed their cheeks. The older brothers and uncles in the military camp would tell their own stories. Those stories were far removed from Qi Changying’s life. They spoke of vast fields of golden wheat, seaside places carrying a faintly salty and bitter scent, and childhood sweethearts who had become engaged but had not yet married. Before the young man left, the girl would hide by the doorway, revealing half of a blushing face, and say that she would wait for him to return and marry her. Neither of them was to break their promise.
Everyone had a different story. Qi Changying envied the experiences of those uncles and older brothers. Unlike them, his life consisted only of the border and studying.
They would laugh and tell him not to be in a hurry. Once Ah Ying grew up, he would have stories of his own, too.
And so, Qi Changying always looked forward to growing up. He eagerly anticipated the day when he, too, could sit beside the bonfire and tell stories with his father and the other uncles and brothers.
Those memories were so beautiful to Qi Changying that, even now, he could still clearly remember the scent of the early autumn night wind at the border, the smell of the flames crackling and popping as they burned, and the faint fragrance of incense lingering on his father’s sleeves.
Besides these, there were so many other things.
Now, those points of light carried these familiar scents as they gathered around him, bringing back even more details connected to his father.
“Father…”
Qi Changying opened his mouth, but he could not manage to say a complete sentence. All his strength was used just to choke out the single word, “Father.”
A few days ago, he knelt beside his father’s bed and watched him pass away with his own eyes. It felt as though he himself had been struck through the heart.
At the time, his chest felt numb and wooden. He felt almost nothing, not even sadness or pain. He only felt that some part of him had been taken away by his father, something he could never get back.
Only now, as his memories were gradually awakened, did the pain begin to rise, bit by bit.
The pain was intense, as though it would crush his entire being.
Qi Changying clutched the fabric over his chest, curled up, and gasped for breath.
At last, he had found the thing that had been missing from within him.
The belated, overwhelming sorrow swept over him like a tsunami. His heart felt as though it was being gripped tightly by an invisible hand. His vision grew increasingly blurred, until it finally gathered into warm tears that rolled in large drops from beneath his eyes, flowed down his cheeks, and then fell with a soft “plop” onto the land he and his father had once protected together.
“Is it you, Father…?”
Qi Changying knew that these points of light would not answer him.
But as they floated and gathered around him, settling on his cheeks and the top of his head, they truly felt like a kind of comfort and response.
“I’m scared… Father…”
Qi Changying closed his eyes, his voice trembling slightly.
“I’m so scared…”
His father left so suddenly that Qi Changying did not have time to prepare. He was forced to accept this fact quickly and shoulder the responsibility his father hoped he would take over.
On the surface, he seemed to have adapted to everything quite well. But only he knew how frightened he truly was inside.
Suddenly, one day, there was no one behind him anymore. No one to help him judge where to draw the line, no one to weigh the gains and losses on his behalf, no one in the background to support him and cover his back, no one to teach him lessons with a stern face and watch him grow.
From then on, the road ahead would be long, full of dangers, and he would have to face everything alone.
He was forced to grow into a reliable adult.
“I don’t know if I can do a good job… I don’t know if I’ll disappoint you… I really…”
Qi Changying lowered his head and sobbed uncontrollably.
“Can I really… become your pride?”
Rather than a question, it sounded more like he was talking to himself.
After remaining silent for a long time, he slowly nodded, as though he had suddenly figured things out and let go of something. He answered his own earlier question.
“…I can do it, Father.”
He raised his hand to cover his eyes, letting the tears disappear into his palm.
“You don’t have to worry about me. Go in peace. I… I can manage on my own.”
Not knowing whom he was speaking to, he continued, his tone firmer this time.
“…I can do it.”
The points of light gradually settled against Qi Changying’s body, surrounding and illuminating him completely, like a silent, gentle embrace.
After a while, they slowly went out, just as silently as they had come.
That familiar presence gradually faded away again. Everything that had just happened seemed like nothing more than a dream, giving Qi Changying a brief, vulnerable excuse to cry as much as he wanted. After that, there would be a true and final farewell.
Qi Changying did not think this was a dream or an illusion of his own making, because just moments ago, he genuinely felt his father’s presence beside him.
It should have sounded absurd and unbelievable. After all, how could someone who had already passed away return before the living in another form?
But Qi Changying knew that there was someone with such miraculous abilities, someone who could accomplish many things beyond ordinary people’s understanding and turn the impossible into the possible.
As though he had suddenly sensed something, Qi Changying raised his eyes and looked in a certain direction.
But he saw nothing.
In this vast, empty world, there was only him and the bright, pure moon hanging in the sky.
Su Li got up and left when Qi Boming and Qi Changying embraced and said their goodbyes.
Qi Changying was such a disappointment. He called him delicate, and that he was a brat when he refused to admit it. Yet, o the outside, he looked so tough and brave, but in private, he burst into tears at the slightest thing. Look at how he cried as though his heart and liver were being torn apart. He was already such a grown man, yet he was not strong at all.
Su Li thought coldly, but his hands continued forming incantations, doing his best to make the spell a little more solid so that Qi Boming could stay just a little longer.
But no matter how much he delayed it, the Soul-Condensing Melody would eventually come to an end.
After the final note fell, and before the last remnants of Qi Boming’s consciousness completely dissipated, Su Li put away the chime bells, stood up, and went toward a more remote part of the wilderness.
He took a piece of paper bearing Qi Boming’s birth characters from his sleeve.
Whether Qi Boming lived or died did not matter to him. But if Qi Boming really died inexplicably right under his nose, it would be an insult to him, Qiyueban.
No matter what, he would find the rat that had tampered with things behind the scenes.
Whatever the cost.
Su Li raised his hand and felt for the dagger at his waist.
A cold glint flashed in his eyes. The next moment, he drew the dagger and plunged it into his own chest without hesitation.
By the time he pulled the dagger out, its white blade was already stained red with blood.
Drops of blood splattered onto the fur on Shoumo’s back. As though it had been scalded, Shoumo let out a startled cry and sprang up from the ground, leaping in fright before darting into the darkness.
Su Li ignored it.
He clutched his wound, barely able to stand. He swayed unsteadily before dropping to his knees.
Warm blood continued flowing from the wound, soaking through his long robe almost instantly.
Fortunately, his clothes were originally ink-black. No matter how much blood he lost, it would not show.
Su Li braced one hand against the ground. The other, which covered his wound, was already drenched in wet, red blood.
His hand trembled slightly as he gradually soaked the piece of paper with his own blood.
On the night Qi Boming died, just before the sparks on the paper went out, Su Li briefly sensed the force carried by the wisp of smoke.
But it was too brief. Before Su Li could identify it, it dissipated along with the last trace of Qi Boming’s vitality.
But that was all right.
As long as something had appeared and existed in this world, it would leave traces behind.
And no matter how faint those traces were, he had a way to grasp them again. The only question was how much he would have to sacrifice.
If one stab was not enough, then two. If this blood was not enough, he would simply drain himself dry.
He was different from ordinary people. He was already halfway to becoming a Shenguan, and his flesh and blood could imbue things with spirit. They were the best nourishment for a magical artifact.
As long as he was willing to cut his own flesh and shed his blood, there was nothing he could not accomplish within the Nether Path.
The small piece of paper was soon dyed deep red with blood, but this was still far from enough.
Su Li’s lips had already lost their color. He tightened his grip on the dagger and plunged the blade into his abdomen once again.
As his strength drained away bit by bit with his blood, Su Li collapsed onto the ground, utterly exhausted.
He closed his eyes and held his breath, concentrating all his attention on sensing the force of fate. He used every ounce of his strength to search for that wisp of smoke he had once grasped.
His consciousness gradually blurred. At some point, overwhelming exhaustion completely dragged Su Li into a deep, dark abyss.
After that, he seemed to have a very, very long dream.
In the dream, he saw Qi Boming again.
He forcibly connected his birth characters to those of the deceased using his blood. While on the verge of death, he finally touched the fate belonging to Qi Boming.
This was also the first time Su Li had done something whose cost far exceeded its return. As a result, all the sensations and experiences that followed were extremely unfamiliar to him.
It was as though he had rapidly lived through an entire lifetime from Qi Boming’s perspective. From a baby crying as he entered the world, to a young boy gradually growing up, then getting married and having children… He could sense every subtle change in Qi Boming’s fortune and see his fate, as well as that of the entire Qi family.
Judging objectively, the course of the Qi family’s fortune felt very good to Su Li. Especially after Qi Changying was born, Su Li could confirm that the fortunes of their entire family would not decline for at least the next hundred years.
However, at some point, the predetermined fate quietly began to change.
It was as though someone had secretly poked a small hole in a full sack of rice. Not only was Qi Boming’s fortune leaking away, but the fortune of the entire Qi family was also quietly slipping away. This continued steadily over many years, without showing any abnormal signs or being noticed by anyone.
Su Li’s guess was correct. Qi Boming had indeed died unjustly. Someone had tampered with his fate and heavenly fortune behind the scenes.
Moreover, this was by no means something that had happened overnight. That person must have set their sights on the Qi family long ago and planned everything in advance. Qi Boming’s death was merely a chain reaction brought about by this scheme.
Who on earth had done this…?
What were they trying to accomplish?
Where exactly did the problem begun?
Su Li did not know.
He had only Qi Boming’s birth characters in his hands. Apart from matters related to this person, he could not see anything else.
In just a few blinks, Su Li saw Qi Boming’s entire life reach its end.
Having received too much information too quickly, and having experienced life and death one after another, Su Li felt somewhat dazed. It was as though his soul had floated into the air, and for a moment, he could barely distinguish who he was.
His body was very cold, and he instinctively curled himself into a ball.
The cold wind blew past, but it did not help Su Li regain his clarity, nor did it help him escape the boundary of the dream.
He wandered through the pitch-black darkness in a daze, unable to find his direction, until a cold hand touched him. The temperature and touch were like a rope, finally pulling Su Li out of the boundless mire.
“Wake up…”
He slowly opened his eyes. The deep blue sky of early morning was reflected in his pupils.
A blurry figure appeared in his field of vision.
As his sight gradually cleared, Su Li finally saw that it was a boy about his own age.
He looked fourteen or fifteen, with long, thick black hair as dark as ink. His appearance was somewhat strange. The shape and arrangement of his facial features resembled those of a beast more than a human.
His eyes in particular were very large and round, and his irises were an unusual golden yellow.
Where had he seen these eyes before?
Why did they seem both unfamiliar and familiar?
Su Li stared at him in a daze.
Seeing that Su Li had opened his eyes but showed no reaction, the boy thought something was wrong. He grew anxious and shook Su Li’s shoulder forcefully again.
“Wake up, wake up… Master!!!”
