Chapter 72 The Invisible World

In the still photos, Zhu Can has an ordinary appearance, but his female subordinates subconsciously focus on his dark eyes, his thin and unusually thin figure, and his intimate interaction with Lu Xuejin.

But as the photos began to move, transforming from static to dynamic, physical appearance was softened by the snow and wind, highlighting Zhu Can's walking posture and the details of her lowered and raised eyes. Before heading to the border, the female subordinates had extensively researched border-related materials, including images of General Shen, who had just passed away. As a result, once they connected the dots, they could immediately and clearly identify the striking similarities between Zhu Can and Shen Mo in their mannerisms!

Despite their strikingly different appearances, the two share a surprising resemblance in their mannerisms.

"He looks so much like General Shen," a male subordinate murmured.

The world is full of wonders, and it is normal for individuals to have similar appearances but no blood relation. Not to mention that the similarity between Zhu Can and Shen Mo is limited to their expressions and behavior. The male subordinate felt increasingly strange about it, and his chest felt tight, as if he were being pressed down by a boulder.

The female subordinate's thoughts immediately raced in another direction: "Lu Xuejin and Zhu Can used to be so close, and he and General Shen..."

Realizing that speculating about the general's relationship with his spouse was too offensive, she rolled her eyes strangely, hesitating to voice her guess, only letting out a long sigh that conveyed a mixture of emotions: surprise, curiosity, and embarrassment...

In silence, the female subordinate's left eye seemed to say "stand-in" and her right eye "melodramatic." Even the oblivious male subordinate understood her suspicions. Out of some secret protective instinct, he wanted to refute her on the spot, but he stammered and couldn't find a reason—because the more he thought about it, the more he realized that the probability of this guess was constantly rising.

Ignoring the subtle exchange between the two, Deng Ning, knowing the identity of the silent man, found herself pondering a different possibility amidst her tangled thoughts.

...

Shen Yuncheng gazed at the silent photograph—every member of the Shen family who held sway over the border left behind a massive portrait after their death. In the corridors of the Shen family's old mansion, starting with the first Border Duke, the Shen family had stood eternally. Including the Silent One, thirteen Border Dukes had sacrificed their lives to defend the empire.

The portrait uses somber colors. The silent man himself doesn't need much color; a few strokes are enough to depict his sharp and heroic figure.

Shen Yuncheng met his gaze, and a kind of coldness hidden in the shadows emanated from the frame, climbing up the dark wall like a strange and sinister beast.

That afternoon, he had just returned from hunting in the dense forest with his friends. His collar and cuffs were stained with blood. He had hidden the soft, gradually cooling carcass of his prey in the bathroom when his father suddenly pushed open the door, followed by an unfamiliar, young face.

Before he could hide the blood, he heard his father say rapidly, "Yuncheng, this is your brother. His name is... Chenmo."

He was utterly shocked, and anger belatedly surged through his nerves. He remained silent, head bowed, until his father turned to look at him, at which point he slowly stepped into the light.

"Little brother." His voice was hoarse and extremely unpleasant, as if he hadn't spoken in many years.

Shen Yuncheng saw the face clearly, just like the portrait at this moment. He couldn't find any trace of the Shen family on that cold and stern face, so much so that for a long time he doubted the identity of the silent man.

Although his mother died young, Shen Yuncheng still remembered the deep affection his parents had for each other when he was young. To believe that his father had sought solace elsewhere, resulting in the birth of a shameful illegitimate child years later, was like having his flesh cut out and his heart ripped out.

As night deepened, Shen Yuncheng left the watchful eyes of his many ancestors and returned to his room, illuminated by a desk lamp and surrounded by books.

In his youth, he was cynical and rebellious, living each day as if in the scorching heat of summer, his blood boiling uncontrollably. His intense aggression drove him to frequent dense forests, where he held hunting competitions with his cronies, venting the astonishing violence hidden within his body. When Mo Chen first arrived at the Shen family, he was full of hostility, constantly washing his longsword with water. If this continued, one could almost foresee the brutal struggle that would ensue in the future.

But after enduring a sweltering summer filled with the incessant chirping of cicadas and the scorching sun that left one parched, those impulses, violence, and boiling emotions vanished from his body. Looking back, Shen Yuncheng felt that his past self was too savage and bestial, terrifyingly unfamiliar. He began to loathe swords and blood, and from then on, he found solace in the vast sea of ​​books, finding the dry, slightly grainy texture of their covers addictive.

Leaving the border to pursue academics, Shen Yuncheng thought he would never return. However, he and his mentor encountered setbacks everywhere. The backstabbing and sabotage among scholars were more disgusting than swords and spears. His mentor became disheartened and gave up on the research. He moved most of the materials back to the border and slunk back to his old house.

Then he met another person who carried his soul.

The massive, brick-like books piled up like small mountains, and on the top, on the jet-black cover, a simple portrait lay dormant, the figure gazing at the outside world. The artist, with just a few pencil strokes, captured a breathtaking spirit.

Shen Yuncheng absentmindedly turned a page, but his peripheral vision fell on the portrait.

He had no interest in investigating the cause of the silent death. Once he had dealt with the imperial henchmen, he would take Lu Xuejin away from this sorrowful place where her father, brother, and husband were buried.

Suddenly, the phone screen on the table lit up, and the ringtone was a melodious violin, a special reminder that Shen Yuncheng had specially set.

Shen Yuncheng immediately picked up his phone, his fingertips even carrying a hint of barely perceptible urgency. As soon as the call connected, Lu Xuejin's voice, tinged with a faint sob, incredibly weak and sorrowful, flowed out, instantly gripping his heart.

"...Yuncheng, it's so quiet here, and I feel terrible." He leaned closer to the receiver; the person on the other end sounded weak and frail, as if their breathing was unsteady.

Shen Yuncheng's heart tightened, all his thoughts instantly cleared, leaving only this one person. Without hesitation, he got up, grabbed his coat, and rushed out, arriving at the villa that very night. The entire building was shrouded in deep darkness and silence, except for a small, warm yellow mushroom-shaped nightlight near the huge floor-to-ceiling window in the living room, which shone brightly.

Lu Xuejin slumped dejectedly into the sofa, as if all his strength had been drained away. The warm yellow light softly outlined his thin profile, tears glistening in his eyes. His long, thick eyelashes were wet, clumped together in strands, and hung limply, like a butterfly whose wings had touched the water, trembling and powerless. The silent night was the easiest time to become sentimental, and he thought of his deceased husband again.

Shen Yuncheng approached silently, his footsteps light. He slowly bent his knees and knelt on the velvet carpet, taking Lu Xuejin's slender fingers in his hand, and whispered, "Brother, let's go back to our room first."

With a little effort, he helped Lu Xuejin up. The moment his palm touched her arm, Shen Yuncheng felt as if his heart had been pricked by a needle—the body beneath his palm seemed even thinner than when they last met, and he could feel a heart-stopping emaciation even through her clothes.

Lu Xuejin was practically leaning against Shen Yuncheng as he half-carried her back to the bedroom. He lay down in bed, his eyelids half-closed, looking melancholy.

Shen Yuncheng tucked him in and joked, "If you don't sleep at night, you're likely to be targeted by the dream goddess Mia."

"What is that?" Lu Xuejin's attention, which had been immersed in the past, shifted slightly.

Seeing this, Shen Yuncheng started talking about more interesting things in his research field to distract himself.

"The Dream God is the belief of the Antang people. They believe that dreams are a breeding ground for chaos, disorder, and evil, and are easily manipulated and corrupted. This god favors the people who dream a lot and will protect their dreams, guiding devout believers to obtain money, status, women, and everything else that only appears in dreams."

Lu Xuejin said softly, "It doesn't sound like a good god."

"In fact, the so-called Dream God is a dangerous creature living in Antang, which is called 'Mi'a' in ancient language. This creature has the ability to bewitch people. When people are dreaming, they are prone to being listless and confused, and fall into Mi'a's illusion and become prey. Because they always die at night, the fearful people of Antang believe that the dead are going to paradise in their sleep. So they use a lot of food and strong adults who are constantly dreaming as sacrifices to pray for the protection of the Dream God."

Lu Xuejin seemed intrigued and asked with renewed interest, "Does such a creature really exist? Does it still exist now? Mia is probably a venomous creature like a snake."

"Guess what? It is said that Mia has the body of a snake, three eyes that never close day and night, one pointing to chaos, one pointing to illusion, and in the very center is the mouthparts for eating."

Lu Xuejin gently patted him: "You're getting more and more outrageous." Then she blinked, "Anything else?"

Shen Yuncheng laughed: "Mias are a kind of intangible thing. This doesn't mean they have no form, but rather that compared to creatures like cows, sheep, cats, and dogs, they exist between illusion and reality, possessing abilities beyond human comprehension—magical, bizarre, even terrifying. For example, coffin puppets symbolize imitation and death, and are adept at parasitism and manipulation; the feeding centipede can corrode time, making the elderly young again; the Styx feeds on pain... There are many more; our current understanding of intangible things is just a drop in the ocean."

"Among them, those who play a role similar to 'kings' are the invisible lords. It is said that each of them possesses the power to destroy the universe. We are as insignificant as ants before them. Some even say that the world we live in is just a fleeting moment when a monarch closes his eyes. The monarchs wander through the boundless multiverse. Some of them are attracted by the brilliant civilizations born from cosmic beings, and some even mate with ants to give birth to offspring, namely, the invisible children. The sons of the monarchs are naturally of noble status and extraordinary abilities."

"The weak, knowing they cannot resist, bow down and recite prayers to the strong, and thus the aliens came into being. They explored this invisible world, some becoming believers in the invisible, others learning magic. The aliens are born with keen senses, able to see the invisible things wandering in the world from a young age."

Lu Xuejin: "Who wrote this novel? Yuncheng, you're researching these things, are you going to write it into a novel and publish it?"

Shen Yuncheng burst into laughter upon hearing this.

He said, "These are just some folk tales. Although the descriptions are exaggerated, it's because the ancients were limited by their knowledge. Most wild creatures were harmful, dangerous, and terrifying to them, constantly threatening their lives. They were used to imagining a higher being that could govern all disasters that threatened their lives, so they could worship and ward off disasters. These examples are valuable historical materials. They are a bit exaggerated, but they are very interesting."

“No wonder you’re always reading.” Lu Xuejin chuckled. “I thought you were reading a great masterpiece, but I didn’t expect it to be something so interesting.”

After laughing, she stared at him with her glassy eyes, as if observing his expression. Shen Yuncheng didn't understand, but subconsciously straightened his back and his smile became even gentler. He always wanted to show his best side to Lu Xuejin.

"...Are you going back to school? Has your advisor contacted you?" Lu Xuejin asked cautiously.

Shen Yuncheng suddenly realized that Lu Xuejin probably heard something about it and thought he had been expelled from school.

“There’s no point in going back to that kind of place. It’s a bunch of rotten bugs and stinking shrimp. It’s better to stay at home,” Shen Yuncheng said casually. “There are a lot of materials here on the border. I can’t even finish looking at them every day.”

"That's good." Lu Xuejin breathed a sigh of relief, took Shen Yuncheng's hand and patted it repeatedly, acting as an older brother and instructing him, "If you encounter any problems, be sure to tell me. Remember to rest while looking at the materials, you've worked hard these past few days."

But his eyes, illuminated by the lamplight, held a tender gaze, and his voice, soft yet husky, betrayed his brotherly demeanor; on the contrary… on the contrary…

Shen Yuncheng couldn't help but wonder if his brother, when he was alive, would also kneel before Lu Xuejin's bed like this, reciting poems to lull him to sleep.

He was completely ignorant of literature, but it is said that after meeting Lu Xue, he put on glasses, acted as gentle and refined, and bought a lot of ancient books. It is said that he would read them whenever he had free time.

In the past, although he and Lu Xuejin got along well, they never had any physical contact due to their ambiguous same-sex relationship. But after Chen Mo died, he was able to hug and hold hands with Lu Xuejin frequently.

The more I think about it, the more ridiculous it seems.

Should he thank him?

On one hand, Shen Yuncheng felt disgusted with his despicable act of taking advantage of the situation; on the other hand, he couldn't help but wonder—what if it was Lu Xuejin's subconscious intimacy...

Many words were stuck in his chest, and Shen Yuncheng held back from uttering them. His fingers twitched, and just as he was about to pull them back, Lu Xuejin suddenly lowered her eyes, and her smile turned bleak and sorrowful.

"If only the invisible things you mentioned really existed... they could definitely bring your brother back to me."

"Mingming just said he'd take me to Qingwu Peak to watch the sunrise, but it hasn't happened yet..."

His voice grew softer and softer, probably from exhaustion due to excessive worry, and he fell asleep while murmuring to himself.

After carefully tucking the blanket in, Shen Yuncheng silently gazed at Lu Xuejin's peaceful sleeping face.

The imperial henchmen are definitely searching for evidence to fabricate charges. In order to regain control of the border, they will stop at nothing. Even if Lu Xuejin is innocent, they will definitely use him as a breakthrough point.

No one will show him any mercy just because he has just lost his husband.

"I will protect you," Shen Yuncheng said silently.

After he left, Lu Xuejin opened her eyes, her gaze clear and unwavering, even revealing a hint of eager excitement.

He rolled over and asked Dong Yao, "You are the formless thing, aren't you? What kind are you?"

"No," Dong Yao answered decisively, adding, "I am merely a product of data. As for the intangible things, intangible masters, and intangible children mentioned by Shen Yuncheng, due to the short binding time, no relevant data was collected."

"Okay. I thought he was telling the truth, but it seems it's just old folklore." Lu Xuejin rolled over again and asked, "How's my husband?"

"Oh, I really miss him."

There's no hint of longing in your voice.

After muttering to himself, Dongyao said, "[You're in good shape, baby.]"

...even overly active.

"With a little more effort, I expect to be able to reunite the silent souls in the next world and gain a brand new husband," Dong Yao chuckled.

The next day.

"Brother, I have to go out for a bit. Is there anything you need me to bring?" Shen Yuncheng changed his clothes and looked back from the entrance. He was worried about leaving Lu Xuejin alone at home, but it concerned the Shen family's rivalry with the capital, and he had some things to do, so he had to leave. "I'll be back as soon as possible. If there's anything urgent, contact Shen Lin. He used to be my brother's adjutant."

"If you're hungry, there's warm rice porridge and side dishes in the kitchen. If you're bored..." Lu Xuejin saw him to the door, and Shen Yuncheng continued to chatter on and on.

Lu Xuejin warned, "Yuncheng, you need to be careful, things are really bad in the capital right now..."

"I know. Don't worry, brother."

Once the vehicle had driven away, the villa fell silent again.

Lu Xuejin returned to the lobby and sent a message to an unfamiliar number: He's gone, come in.

At the same time, access to the household was granted, and Deng Ning walked in less than a minute later.

He leaned against the doorframe, his posture so relaxed it was almost boneless, and greeted us as if he were just a wanderer passing by asking for a drink of water: "Good morning."

A faded, slightly baggy dark blue denim jacket lay open, the collar of the inner lining showing subtle signs of wear. He wore dark gray cargo pants, the cuffs casually bunched up on slightly dusty dark brown high-top leather boots. The boots, however, were well-maintained, with a subtle sheen.

This outfit doesn't resemble that of an imperial official; it's more like that of a spoiled brat who spends his days partying and wasting his youth on a university campus.

I heard that during the investigation, Deng Ning was either frequenting bars or trying out various extreme sports, and it didn't seem like he cared much about the death of the border official.

"Please sit down." Deng Ning said, pulling up a stool from the side and sitting down opposite Lu Xuejin with an air of authority.

His dark brown hair had clearly been carefully combed by Shui today. Although it still retained a touch of unruly curl, a few annoying stray hairs had been neatly tucked behind his ears, revealing a smooth forehead and his eyes, which were now filled with a smile. His beard was clean-shaven, his jawline sharp and defined, making him appear more energetic and shedding his usual deliberately frivolous air.

Lu Xuejin smelled the scent of aftershave.

"What brings you to contact me privately?" Lu Xuejin asked coldly, clearly not welcoming Deng Ning's arrival.

Faced with the cold rejection, Deng Ning was not angry at all. Instead, as if he had heard something he expected to be amusing, the corners of his mouth curved upwards almost imperceptibly. He did not answer immediately. His eyes, with a hint of mockery, lingered on Lu Xuejin's face for a very brief but unusually focused moment—her slightly furrowed brows, her tight lips, and the redness in the corners of her eyes as if she had just been crying.

That look wasn't the sharp scrutiny of someone examining a suspect; it was more like checking if a fragile item was intact.

Dunning casually put one hand in his pocket. But his other hand, hanging by his side, had its index finger curl up very slightly, almost unconsciously.

Finally, he spoke, his voice a shade lower than usual, lacking his usual cynical tone and possessing an almost certain calmness, as if stating an undeniable fact:

"I'm here to remind you," Deng Ning paused slightly, his gaze still fixed on Lu Xuejin's face, "Mr. Lu, your current condition is extremely dangerous."

Deng Ning raised his phone and flipped through the files one by one. Lu Xuejin calmly scanned her little-known past until a photo caught her eye.

Lu Xuejin blinked slightly, her eyebrows twitching slightly. Although she didn't react otherwise, Deng Ning had already confirmed Zhu Can's special relationship with her.

[...] Dong Yao silently recorded.

"How long has it been since you last saw him?"

Lu Xuejin paused for a moment, then looked up and asked indifferently, "He's just an ordinary classmate. What did he do wrong?"