Chapter 38 (Minor Repair)
With a heavy heart, Shen Jian moved Shen An's hand away, preparing to explain and speak, but when he opened his eyes, he saw that the leader had taken off his upper body clothes, and deep oblique scars spanned his entire back, still oozing out half-dried black blood.
Shen Jian: “…”
It is almost impossible for a leader to be injured, and this event can be considered a sign of the collapse of an organization.
Because as long as there is a subordinate around, the leader will not be hurt.
But the injury on this person looked like it had been there for some time.
Shen Jian paused for a moment, turned his head to look at Shen An, and after confirming that his subordinate, who showed a panicked and confused expression, was completely unaware of the matter, he slowly looked at the long-haired leader again.
The leader remained silent for a long time.
...He had just reached a deal with Shen Jian yesterday under certain conditions, in which he would no longer torture himself.
And now he let Shen Jian see his wound, even though it was not caused by him this time.
But... now he is the leader, and the leader has all the rights to refute.
The leader relaxed his hands that had been resting on his belt, looking at Shen Jian in the eye. He moved his fingers slightly, and silently took up his cloak to cover his upper body, "Get out."
So Shen Jian glanced at Shen An, "Get out."
The innocent and pitiful Shen An paused, looked at the leader, then lowered his head to look at Shen Jian again, hesitated to say something, and still retreated under the almost identical oppressive gazes of the two.
Shen Jian finally looked at the long-haired leader: "Explain."
Leader: “…You get out too.”
Shen Jian ignored him, calmed his breathing on the spot, and began to touch his obvious wound, pressing the curled scab and checking it without any care.
"Why not treat it?" Shen Jian asked calmly, "I don't really want to see a father who didn't die in my hands. You promised me yesterday."
The leader's body suddenly tensed up, and then he relaxed after three seconds. His voice was calm, not even caring that the other party had ignored his order: "I don't really want to ask why you are here. This is my private matter."
"I said yesterday that you are not allowed to step into the Wuyan Tower again."
The leader's cape was half hanging on his shoulders, his long hair was pushed to the front by Chen Jian, and he tensed his body to endure his own child's ignorant movements of checking the wound.
He just had his back to Shen Jian and the other person, and he didn’t know how they got here.
Shen Jian scratched the wound and casually probed, "What other ways are there to get in? Don't you know it?"
The leader paused, then calmly turned his head to look at Shen Jian, easily deducing something from the words that didn’t reveal a single thing.
"What did Shen An tell you? What happened on the ground?"
Otherwise, why would Chen Jian immediately rule out the option of "using hundreds of means of teleportation" and only ask about "the only way he knows"? It is obvious that the Wuyan Tower is not short of resources.
He just saw Shen An covering Shen Jian's eyes.
“This is also my personal matter.” Shen Jian counterattacked coldly.
Shen Jian was simply torturing someone, repeatedly picking at the edges of the wound, letting the blood seep out, and then smearing it at random to observe the color.
Glancing at the leader who had become increasingly silent as a result, Shen Jian came to two conclusions.
This guy is very good at enduring the pain from this wound.
And this wound cannot heal.
The bright red tender flesh in the middle of the cut was at least oozing with clean blood, but it was obvious at first glance that something was wrong with the scabs on the edges. There was half a little finger's thickness of blood, almost semi-coagulated, superimposed on it, indicating that they would become the next layer of blood scabs.
But it is better to say that the "law of cause and effect" of this wound is the opposite. The soft jelly-like fresh flesh is actually the culprit that has just cracked and involved the pain nerves, while the edge of the wound that shows the hideousness is the safer part. The seemingly warm flesh is eroding the back of the person inch by inch, gradually melting it...
Wait a minute, gradually melt away... ?
Shen Jian slowly cooled his expression, loosened his bleeding hand, took two steps back, and squinted his eyes to blur his vision.
The wound gradually blurred and distorted in the map that deliberately controlled the unreal scattering, and slowly turned into a huge red snake with a coiled back.
Snake, it's a snake again, and it's from the Middle Ages.
Shen Jian: “…”
"Ha, ha." Shen Jian almost laughed out of anger.
The leader glanced coldly at Shen Jian, who was sneering alone, and calmly buttoned his clothes. The lines of his back stretched and contracted, and fresh blood flowed along the fabric, instantly leaving mottled red in the innermost white shirt.
It only took him three or four seconds to adjust, and then he returned to his usual calm expression.
He thought the child was just curious about something he had never seen before, so he allowed Shen Jian to observe his wound.
As for how the child would feel after reaching the conclusion he wanted, he chose to turn a blind eye.
He explained the situation to himself repeatedly last night: Even if the child discovered his [secret] at the last moment and even used it to make a [deal] that would forever favor him, they did not have the so-called [family affection].
...Perhaps, there is not even a so-called blood relationship.
All of this was just a play the kid put on to survive.
The long-haired leader turned sideways and calmly reminded himself again, then looked up at the time.
3:22 a.m. No need to sleep today.
The leader subconsciously wanted to tie up his hair, but suddenly found that the silver ring had been given to Shen Jian.
He paused for a moment, sighed slightly, stood up slowly and walked towards the leader's room, his eyes casually swept towards the snake-shaped ring worn on Shen Jian's right hand, and for the first time he felt that he really did not kill the child yesterday.
In fact, there were many times when he thought he would actually do it.
"Shen An brought me here just now."
The young man had no idea what the leader was thinking. He looked at the leader quietly for a few seconds, then took a few steps forward and reached out to grasp the sword that the leader always carried.
A second later, another hand, slightly larger than his, also grasped the hilt of the sword.
The leader calmly looked down at the boy, "So."
His back was straight, natural and relaxed, as if he felt no pain at all.
Shen Jian raised his eyes, took off his sword and threw it on the bed, then turned sideways to signal the leader that he could leave.
"So I know everything you think I should know."
In fact, Shen An didn't have time to tell him anything, but Shen Jian didn't mind making up for the time difference, it was easy to make up for it...
To be honest, Shen Jian was also somewhat curious about what expression the leader would show if Yuan could not come back and his identity was exposed, although this result was not very likely to be imagined.
Shen Jian quickly suppressed the regret on his face, "What does the Middle Ages have to do with you?"
The leader sat in the first seat with his eyes closed. He felt a little uncomfortable without his sword, and his tone became cold. He sparingly uttered two words: "Chen An?"
Shen Jian glanced at the sword lying obediently on the bed, and after confirming once again that this sword was the leader's commonly used sword, he locked the door with confidence.
He really didn't want to recreate the feeling of having the leader hold a sword across his neck yesterday - it was difficult to act scared but not too scared.
Playing against himself has already required all the chips to be put down, and Shen Jian doesn't want to waste time on unnecessary things.
"Chen An will not betray you. You know very well that he will list these as things he will not say to me." Shen Jian reminded, and slowly walked around the leader's room. Not finding a chair, he simply knelt down next to the leader again and looked up at him.
The leader lowered his head indifferently, speaking in a low voice, like an ordinary father who comes home from a busy night to check on his young son's homework: "Then what can you guess?"
He asked Shen Jian frankly what Shen An had told him and how much information he knew now.
Shen Jian lowered his eyes and stroked the snake ring on his ring finger, smiled gently again, and dodged lightly: “Father, I know whatever you think I know.”
He knows what you don't think I know.
Shen Jian glanced at the leader’s back which was deliberately hidden.
He finally understood why he always wore a cloak... The bloodstains could not be hidden by just three layers of clothing, right?
"So, let's not change the subject. What is your relationship with the Middle Ages?" Shen Jian asked with a smile. "Although I have no memory, I will be frank. Father, no matter who I inherited it from or whose blood relationship it is, I believe you will not give away things that belong to us, right?"
Shen Jian bit the word "we" tightly, and looked directly into the leader's calm and dim eyes, "I am a little curious, why did the Middle Ages have our weapons?"
"I saw it. I went to the ground between 12 and 1 last night. It was full of these things." Shen Jian said.
The tattered tin house, the dense cables, and the crackling of uncontrolled sparks.
The seven-tiered bunk beds, rusty and densely packed like prison cells, leave a narrow passage in the middle just enough for someone to pass sideways.
Outside the narrow iron window, half of the bones were buried in the mud and mixed with the combat machinery.
It was obvious that the ground had experienced torture comparable to that of a world war. As far as Shen Jian had seen, the area directly under the Wuyan Tower was almost uninhabited.
"Why are those technological war machines that belong only to the Wu Yan Tower printed with medieval symbols?" Chen Jian's voice became softer and softer. "You don't want the Wu Yan Tower anymore?"
Shen Jian had wanted to ask this question since he knew that this leader was "himself".
Why should we just throw away to the Middle Ages the things that Wu Yan Tower had worked so hard to develop?
Is it just because the Middle Ages was the chosen chess piece?
“…”
The leader was silent for a long time, with a simple dagger placed on his leg. The young man straightened his back and placed his hands on the sharp blade, placing the fulcrum of his whole body on it.
Shen Jian looked at him calmly.
This is one of the irreconcilable contradictions between him and himself.
Whenever he thought of his subordinates whose information about his world was sold, he felt cold anger.
After a moment, the leader sighed, leaned over to his young son who was perhaps only two days old, and gently stroked his face with his hand, "No, that's compensation."
Shen Jian was startled.
"What's the meaning?"
The leader stopped talking, as if saying these things was already violating certain rules. He withdrew his hand and continued to sit in that position, just like every ordinary and silent night in the past ten years.
I can't sleep, but I don't want to stay awake.
He touched Shen Jian on his knees and said softly, “Go to sleep.”
I hope that this time when you wake up, it will be a good dream that has ended.
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