Chapter 55
I looked around. There was nothing there, it was quiet, not even the wind was moving.
It's a monster. The ancient soul that Mo Huaizhen spoke of, the undead spirit whose fate was beyond their control, as Shuangshan Mingyu described.
Gu Xinglian pulled the arrow out himself, covering the wound with one hand, unwilling to let me see it. I had no choice but to take the arrow, which looked familiar.
I'm sure I've seen this somewhere before.
Television? Cell phone? Club activities?
Mo Huaizhen.
I remember Mo Huaizhen used an arrow; the pure white fletching trembled after it entered the monster's body. Arrows all over the world are pretty much the same in appearance; it doesn't matter what color the fletching is, or whether the arrow shaft and arrowhead are made of crystal, iron ore, or gold. Arrows all over the world are made only according to what they have.
And he used the most ordinary arrows, only they were enchanted.
This arrow possesses no power beyond physical means, and Mo Huaizhen removes or destroys it after each monster he kills. But I know this arrow is his; there's no reason why, this arrow can only be his.
The first time, unable to use weapons, one can only passively wait to be killed. The second time, one learns the enemy's skills from the previous encounter and mimics their actions...
I felt a chill.
What if someone treats them cruelly again? Will they quickly learn and apply those methods to humans? Is their experience shared, or is it actually "wisdom"?
No one had studied them; their arrival was merely a curse recorded in ancient books. They hadn't even attempted to resolve it before the gods entrusted them with the responsibility.
I think that collection of myths can no longer be called anything other than "the hope received by a tree".
Gu Xinglian walked over to me and asked, "Is there something wrong with this arrow?"
I instinctively shook my head: "It's nothing."
I asked him, "Why are you still moving around? Is your wound still bleeding? Let me see..."
Gu Xinglian was still covering her wound, and when I realized what was happening, I also covered my neck.
We looked at each other, and he finally spoke up: "Shall we continue shopping?"
Walking down the street again, I absentmindedly thought about his wounds. The blood hadn't seeped from between his fingers; perhaps it had dried up while I was lost in thought. He walked with incredible speed, even when he tried to slow it down like a weak person. Was he another being like Shuangshan Mingyu and Hehua? A consciousness like Ward? Someone with special abilities like Mo Huaizhen? I think I'll never know the truth—I think I still can't be sure of his true identity. Before, I worried he'd doubt that I was his childhood friend; now it's my turn to doubt whether such a person even exists in this world.
Gu Xinglian walked away oblivious, unaware that I had discovered his secret. I quietly clenched my fingers, my nails digging into my fingertips. In my mind, I called out to Ward, and he responded quickly.
Hello, Qinghe! Is there anything I can help you with?
I desperately wanted to ask him the truth about Gu Xinglian, yet I was afraid to face the facts. Ward flew ahead of me, looking down at me with eyes full of sympathy: "That's really difficult. But I don't think he's a bad person, at least he wouldn't hurt you. What do you think? If you really want to know, I can certainly tell you. Our relationship is closer than most people's! Whatever you want to know, I can tell you!"
I know he was referring to our time together. Indeed, our relationship has transcended that of ordinary "colleagues." His spirit is forever with me, forever by my side, always at my beck and call, without a word of complaint. More than friends, he's like a servant, which makes me feel guilty.
Ward had a bright smile on his face. He was not young, but he always seemed childlike, perhaps because his spirit was like that of a child.
"Forget it," I said. "Thank you."
Gu Xinglian looked at me with a puzzled expression and said with a melancholy look, "You don't even care about this anymore?"
I blurted out the words without realizing it. Gu Xinglian had obviously said something, but I hadn't heard it. I quickly tried to salvage the situation: "Sorry, I was just spacing out, my mind wasn't working properly. Could you repeat what you said?"
"On the day I leave, I hope you can come and see me off." He hesitated for a moment, then said, "Of course, if what you said was just an excuse, I don't mind. I overreacted. After all, someone so lacking in boundaries, who just came up to you and wanted to be your friend, always talking to himself, must have annoyed you, right?"
It hasn't come to that. I unconsciously want to be tolerant of him, as if we've really known each other for a long time.
Ward kept babbling in my ear, and I calmly said, "Just tell me, and I'll get through it."
Gu Xinglian looked at me, as if we were complete strangers. My fingers twitched, and I silently looked back. At that moment, my mind was blank, devoid of any thought, save for the dim halo left by the gloomy weather blocking out the sun, and the autumn wind making me shiver. Everything was based solely on the most basic physiological reactions. A thousand words? Even asking Ward afterward wouldn't give me a definite answer. It would remain an unsolvable mystery.
It wasn't until Gu Xinglian draped his coat over me that the warmth of his body brought my frozen mind back to reality.
"This is it," he said. Before him lay an abandoned neighborhood, nothing but ruins, devoid of any signs of a thriving community. Wild grass grew rampant, with seven cypress trees clinging desperately to the railings, their branches and leaves mostly withered. Ivy spread across the walls, enveloping the houses, filling the windows with its deep green shade.
Every scene that existed in Gu Xinglian's memory seemed lifeless and desolate, as if long abandoned by the world. He seemed used to it, carefully and nimbly navigating the pile of cement blocks by the door. I followed closely behind. We tacitly ignored the fact that we still had our wounds.
Seeds have the ability to grow on their own, which can be considered a form of healing, as can be seen both in the materials provided by Mo Huaizhen and in my daily life. What could it be?
I looked at Gu Xinglian, who was struggling to figure out which building his destination was in. He seemed surprised by this scene and looked quite helpless.
I was walking toward him when I accidentally kicked a stone on the ground, which rolled forward and landed at his feet. He looked down at it for a moment, then made up his mind: "I'll walk this way!" He smiled at me, "Anyway, there aren't any bad answers."
I don't care. I'm fine with anything. Nodding, we walked in the direction the stone had run off to. All we could see along the way was trash, weeds, and steel bars peeking out from the concrete thickets.
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