Warm Pool

The master finally laid out the truth that I had vaguely sensed but had always been reluctant to think about. "Tomorrow, I have never told you about your life story because when I adopted you, I told you that you were destined to die. I hope you can survive it safely in the mountains. But now you have learned all my skills. You are very good. You have achieved such success in just 20 years. Now I don't have to worry about you. Maybe it's time to let you know everything. Your parents are still alive. Your father is a quack. The City Lord wanted to abandon you because you were born with weak bones, but your mother wouldn't let her. She found a loyal servant who traveled thousands of miles to find me, without your father's knowledge. The first time I saw you was on a snowy night. The loyal servant who brought you to me had long since passed away, yet he had protected you with a heart full of love. Beside him lay a letter detailing your life story. Guilt-ridden, I decided to adopt you and heal you. Because you were gifted and had a personality similar to mine, I offered you all my skills. "I'm a cripple, abandoned by my father. He felt ashamed to have a son born with a disability." Alas, it turns out the deepest hurt is to those closest to us! Resentment and resentment surged in my chest, but I couldn't show it on my face. In front of my master, I remained the obedient and calm disciple. He raised me and taught me the fundamentals of life. How could I let him see me lose my composure over this predetermined fate?

The rage that had nowhere to vent surged through my body, nearly tearing me apart. I wheeled my wheelchair to the Tianshan Warm Pool, this misty world one of the few places where I could feel relaxed. I set up formations around the perimeter, not wanting anyone to witness my current plight. I stripped off my clothes and immersed myself in the warm water, but felt no warmth, only a bone-chilling cold. I finally gave up and roared like a trapped animal into the empty valley, slamming my fist into the water, sending up a wave of water. "Why don't you want me? Why?! You're my father!!!"

Just as my mind was pounding at its most intense, the formation vibrated! Someone had barged in! Who was it? Was they here to see me? Were they sent to spy on me? Shame and rage instantly overwhelmed my sanity. Without even recognizing who it was, I gathered my inner strength and struck out in the direction of the breath! It wasn't until I heard a muffled groan and the sound of someone falling to the ground that I jolted awake.

Breaking out of the water, I saw Zi Ling lying on the ground. Her face was pale, her eyes closed. In an instant, all my anger was replaced by a cold fear! What had I done?! I actually attacked her?! I hurried forward and carried her back to the room. My fingers trembled uncontrollably as I placed them on her wrist for a pulse. Fortunately, my mind was distracted when I struck her, so the force wasn't fatal.

As I carefully treated her, guilt lingered. When she awoke, her clear eyes held no blame, only a hint of weakness and... understanding? She must have heard my unbearable screams, learned the secret of my abandonment. I waited for her questions or pity, but she simply quietly accepted my treatment, refusing to mention anything that had happened by the warm pool. This silent care, more than any comfort, made me feel more ashamed, but also... more moved.

Her injuries gradually healed, and our relationship grew strangely harmonious. I cared for her attentively, perhaps to atone for my guilt, or perhaps simply to cherish the rare tranquility of being with her. She didn't seem to mind my proximity; I could even sense a special warmth in her eyes. This filled me with joy.

But at this moment, I vaguely sensed she was deliberately keeping her distance. For example, when I put my arm around her, she said that physical contact between men and women was inappropriate, even though she had never rejected me in this way before. From the occasional casual conversation among the maids, I suddenly realized what was going on. The maid, Ke'er, asked me, "Is it because of Shangguan Yan that the young master treats her so well?" I always knew Ke'er had special feelings for me. Ke'er was only 16, eight years younger than me. She admired and adored me, but in my heart, I only treated her like a younger sister because my heart had long been given to that person, Shangguan Yan, who had given everything for me. Other women admired me and treated me well only because I was "the best of Hua Tuo," but she treated me well because I was her sun.

I think Ke'er must have mentioned to her how I had treated Shangguan Yan "specially." She knew I had someone else in my heart and was afraid that we would be misunderstood, so she only wanted to position me as a "benefactor" and a "good friend." What a considerate woman.

I once mentioned to my master her resemblance to Shangguan Yan, and my suspicions grew. But my master simply told me in a profound way that her name was "Zi Ling," and told me to keep her close and protect her, saying I'd know everything when the time was right. My master's silence only deepened my conviction that a profound secret lay hidden, and Zi Ling was undoubtedly at its heart. Protecting her was my master's order, and so was it not my own desire.

Zi Ling's perspective——

I woke up here, a thin sliver of sky above me, and endless clouds below. At first, I was terrified, staring at the cave entrance all night, always worried that a man-eating monster would leap from the darkness. Later, I discovered that the most ferocious beast at the bottom of the cliff was just a squirrel nibbling on wild fruit.

When you're hungry, you forget all about appearances. Berries so sour they make your teeth ache, roots so astringent when you chew them, become lifesavers. It turns out that when you're starving, your tongue will lie, deceiving itself into believing these things are sweet. And you'll laugh for a long time at the empty valley—laughing at your own stupidity, and at the fact that you're the only one left in the world who cares about whether you'll catch a cold.

The books in the cave became treasures. I didn't recognize some characters, so I read them by guessing. When I read poetry, I imagined what it would be like to see "the spring breeze greening the south bank of the river again." When I read medical books, I used the herbal illustrations to identify the plants on the cliffside—what if they were poisonous? When I got tired of reading, I talked to the stone walls, naming the weeds: one day, "Little Mute," the next, "Ignore Man."

When I touch a military book, my fingertips tremble inexplicably, and fragments of metal clashing flash through my mind. When I read a book about Qimen Dunjia, I stare blankly at the "gold, wood, water, fire, and earth" (gold, wood, water, fire, and earth).

Until that old man with a white beard appeared, floating down from the clouds. He looked at me with eyes as complex as the surface of a frosted lake. He led me on a whirlwind adventure, and finally, my world was no longer confined to that stone wall.

My heart skipped a beat when the burly man in front of me, with thick eyebrows and big eyes, blurted out "Zi Ling." The old man stopped him, saying, "If you keep going, it'll get us all in trouble." I tugged at the old man's sleeve, swallowing the words back. The word "trouble" he said was heavy. Was the past I'd left behind stained with blood? It would be better to remain a wild man at the bottom of the cliff, at least the wind and rain here wouldn't hurt me.

The old man arranged for me to stay, but now, even though I sleep on the soft bed, I wake up in the middle of the night. The snow outside the window is so bright, so bright that there's nowhere to hide. Sometimes, when I touch the old scars on my wrists left by thorns, I feel vaguely that those three years weren't imprisonment, but a place of respite carved out by God for a fool like me.

I stared at the blurry silhouette in the bronze mirror and murmured softly, "But... Who is "Zi Ling"? Who am I?"

The next day, the sound of a flute reached me, a voice that seemed to call out. Who was the flute player calling out to? Who could I call out to? The more I thought about it, the more my head hurt. I decided to follow the sound. In the distance, I saw a figure in a wheelchair. I remembered the description of the disabled person in the picture book, and I squatted down to see what he looked like. I saw a handsome and elegant man: unfazed by the slightest dust, his emotions unwavering.

A playboy interrupted my conversation with him. During the conversation, I learned that his nickname was "Hua Tuo." Hua Tuo was described in books as a miraculous doctor, so this guy must be famous for his medical skills. It turns out he also has a "three no-rescue principle." He's truly a man of pride, principle, and compassion! The old man showed up at the critical moment. It turns out he'd been there all along. He's truly an otherworldly master, with an ethereal aura and unfathomable depths! I followed the old man away.

The fog was thick that day, and I felt awkward eating and drinking for free. I just wanted to see if I could help, so I went outside to gather some herbs. But when I got outside, I kept coming back to the same fork in the road. Suddenly, the scenery shifted, and the rocks shifted as if alive. I tightened my grip on the medicine basket, thinking, "Oh no! I'm in trouble again." The sky gradually darkened, and I gazed at the starry sky. No! The North Star, where the Big Dipper should point, had shifted. The books said the Big Dipper always points to the North Star. If the books were right, then my eyes were wrong. Thinking of this, it dawned on me that my eyes had deceived me, and I closed my eyes and walked away.

Then, amidst the sound of water, I heard a suppressed roar, like a wounded wolf. I saw him. White steam rose from the hot spring, and he was half submerged in the water, his fists pounding the surface, splashing water high. I had never seen Ouyang Mingri like that before. Not cold, not proud, but like... a wounded child. When I heard him say, "Why don't you want me?", I wondered if he had been abandoned. I wanted to comfort him, but was that what he wanted? Well, let's just leave. I can't even protect myself now, so how can I comfort him? Perhaps feigning ignorance is the greatest comfort for him.

He suddenly turned around, his eyes a frightening red. Before I could say anything, a streak of golden light brushed my cheek, burning with pain. As I fell, I was still thinking: So this is what it feels like to be scratched by his killer golden thread.

When I woke up, there was cool ointment on my forehead. He sat by the bed, pounding medicine, his eyelashes drooping like a child who had done something wrong. He dipped his fingertips into the ointment and applied it to the bruise on my wrist, gently, as if afraid to break porcelain. Suddenly, I didn't blame him anymore. That man, who even controlled his coughs like Hua Tuo in front of others, had just roared out of control in the wilderness - how much grievance must he have felt to have to hide away and vent like this?

I recalled the fragments of words I'd heard before I passed out: "abandoned," "father"... It felt like a tiny needle pricked my heart. Some wounds shouldn't be exposed. So I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep.

Later, I heard about Shangguan Yan from the young maid. It turned out that Shangguan Yan looked like me. It turned out that his kindness to me was simply because of her... To me, he was like the snow lotus on Mount Tianshan—pure in appearance, but in reality, he would give medicine to anyone who broke a leg and crawled over to ask for it. The one who truly stirred his emotions was that Shangguan Yan.

I buried the words I'd just thought of in my heart. Well, a benefactor is a benefactor, a friend is a friend. Just like those three years at the bottom of the cliff, when I distinguished which fruits were edible and which were poisonous, I now had to sort out my thoughts: Gratitude is a vine that can climb a wall, but I can't foolishly hope to become the wall itself.

But when he changed the medicine for me, I saw his ears turned slightly red, and my hand holding the medicine bowl would still shake in a cowardly way.