Chapter 2: Leaving the Bronze Gate to Find the Blind Man
The silence within the bronze door was heavy. It pressed down on you, settled deep in your heart, enough to drive an ordinary person mad. But at this moment, this deathly silence was broken by a sharper sound—the soft "click" of Zhang Qiling's clenched knuckles.
He stood before the massive bronze gate, his eyes, usually calm and still, now swirling with a dark fire powerful enough to extinguish everything from the past. Memories of his past life, especially those of Hei Xiazi, were not blurry images, but sharp thorns, warm with pain and endless regret, piercing the most vulnerable parts of his heart.
"blind……"
The name rolled across his tongue, carrying a bitter aftertaste he himself hadn't even noticed. He remembered that final moment, the man's cynical yet utterly extinguished smile. So this is what a broken heart looks like.
He couldn't wait another ten years. Not a day, not an hour, not a second.
go out.
Once this thought arose, it spread like wildfire, burning away all so-called "missions" and "agreements." The Nine Gates' schemes? The ultimate secret? What did it have to do with him! What he once carried now seemed to be nothing more than a carefully planned manipulation, exploiting his purity to bind him to "responsibilities" defined by others, while making him push away what was truly important.
He reached out and placed his hand on the cold, icy bronze door. This door had once been a turning point in his destiny; now, he was going to overturn it completely.
Leaving was no easy task. The bronze gate had its own rules, and forcibly opening it would inevitably trigger a violent backlash. The tomb passage trembled violently, as if the entire Changbai Mountain dragon vein was roaring in anger. Gravel and dust fell from above, and an invisible force pounded on his soul like a heavy hammer.
If it were his past life, he might have followed the rules and waited for the right opportunity.
But now, Zhang Qiling's eyes were fierce, and his movements carried a resolute determination that even gods and Buddhas could not stop. The black gold ancient sword hummed, its light not for protection, but for tearing! He was no longer a sword passively enduring fate; he was the one who would cleave fate in two!
"boom--!"
A deep, yet earth-shattering roar echoed through the depths of the snow-capped mountains. He had forcefully pushed open the heavy bronze door, creating a gap just large enough for one person to pass through! The cold, fresh air from outside rushed in, carrying the scent of snow and the scent of freedom.
Without hesitation, he darted out like a ghost. Behind him, the bronze door groaned in resentment, slowly closing and locking away the eerie greenery and the ten-year destiny once more.
He didn't turn around.
The wind and snow of Changbai Mountain remained, but for Zhang Qiling, the moment he stepped out of the bronze gate and breathed in the first breath of fresh mountain air, the world was already different. He stood in the snow, squinting slightly as his eyes adjusted to the outside light. The sky was blue, the snow was white, and everything carried a fresh, otherworldly feel.
He needs to find Black Bear. Immediately, right now.
But first he needed to confirm the timeline. He descended the familiar, snow-covered mountain path, his footsteps so quick they left only shallow tracks in the snow. He needed information.
In a shabby inn in a small town at the foot of the mountain, he found the answer. An outdated newspaper lay on the bar, the date clearly printed—much earlier than the timeline he remembered. He was completely unaware of the torrent of fate that was about to engulf him. And Black Bear…
Thinking of Hei Xiazi, Zhang Qiling felt another dull pain in his heart. At this time, the blind man was probably still traveling all over the country taking on jobs, using his cynical demeanor to mask his inner feelings. Perhaps... he hadn't yet been completely disillusioned by Hei Xiazi's repeated estrangement and final "entrustment."
This realization gave him a glimmer of hope. Thankfully, it wasn't too late.
He possessed nothing of value but a black gold ancient sword and his exceptional skills. He needed money and the fastest transportation. What would be a problem for ordinary people was nothing more than a few phone calls or a single "visit" for Zhang Qiling. He employed unconventional methods, with a clear objective, high efficiency, and without any unnecessary emotions. A few hours later, he had acquired a decent off-road vehicle and enough cash, heading straight for Beijing.
He knew that Hei Xiazi had a habit of returning to his small outpost in Beijing for a few days to rest and have a few drinks after completing a difficult job, like a wounded beast returning to its den to lick its wounds.
Along the way, the scenery flew by. Zhang Qiling drove extremely fast, and the scenery outside the car window blurred into a mass of colors. His mind, however, was unusually clear, and images from his past life flashed back uncontrollably.
He remembered the deep, bone-revealing scar on Hei Xiazi's back when Hei Xiazi shielded him from danger; he remembered the man, sweating profusely from the pain, still joking and teasing him: "Dumb Zhang, you have to treat me to a good meal this time, or you'll be at a huge loss"; he remembered the last time he said, "Take care of Wu Xie for me," the other man's lips stiffened instantly, then he quickly covered it up...
Every memory was like a whip, lashing at his heart. How could he have taken it all for granted before? How could he have been so oblivious to the deep affection and weariness behind that smile?
He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. This time, it would never happen again.
Beijing. Dusk.
Zhang Qiling parked the car at the entrance of an alley. The place was almost exactly as he remembered it—noisy, full of everyday life, somewhat incongruous with the mysterious,江湖-like aura of Hei Xiazi, yet strangely blending together. He turned into a courtyard with practiced ease and stopped in front of an ordinary-looking iron gate.
He didn't even need to knock. With his hearing, he could clearly hear the subtle sounds coming from inside—the faint strains of Peking Opera from the radio, the crisp sound of a lighter being struck, and... that familiar, slightly languid breathing.
He's inside.
At this moment, the urgency, regret, and violence that had accompanied him all the way subsided strangely. In their place was a tense tension, like the trepidation of returning home. How would he appear? Should he simply tell the blind man, "I've been reborn, I remember everything, I regret it?"
No. Zhang Qiling immediately dismissed the idea. Even setting aside whether the blind man would believe it, he himself couldn't bring himself to utter such a long string of words. Moreover, the damage caused in his past life couldn't be erased with a few weak explanations.
He needs to take action.
He stood outside the door, silently for several minutes, like a silent statue. He was adjusting his breathing, gathering his courage. Finally, he raised his hand, not to knock, but to press directly on the door lock.
"Click".
With a soft click, the seemingly secure lock was opened from the inside by a clever force. Zhang Qiling gently pushed the door open.
The room was dimly lit, filled with the smell of smoke and a unique aroma belonging to Hei Xiazi—a mixture of gunpowder and herbs. Hei Xiazi was sprawled on an old sofa, his long legs casually propped up on the coffee table, a cigarette between his fingers, his sunglasses slipped down to the bridge of his nose, seemingly dozing. Hearing the door open, he jolted awake, instinctively reaching for his waist, his movement so swift it left only a blur.
However, when he saw the figure standing against the light at the door, he was completely stunned.
Smoke curled from his fingers, and the expression on his face froze in an extremely complex moment—a mixture of astonishment, disbelief, and a fleeting, easily concealed, emotion that he himself might not even be aware of… a flutter of excitement?
"...Mute Zhang?" Hei Xiazi's voice was hoarse from just waking up, and filled with deep confusion. "Where the hell did you come from? That godforsaken place, Changbai Mountain, you just... came out like that?"
He has many problems because this is completely against the rules and illogical.
Zhang Qiling did not answer. He just stared at him intently, his gaze seemingly tangible, sweeping across his face inch by inch, as if trying to confirm whether this person was real, whether he was unharmed.
He walked over step by step, his footsteps making a slight creak on the old floor. The sound was amplified in the quiet room, striking a chord in the hearts of the two men.
Black Bear felt a chill run down his spine from the unusual silence and gaze, instinctively wanting to put on his sunglasses to conceal his emotions. He tugged at the corners of his mouth, trying to put on his usual mocking smile: "What's wrong, Chief Zhang? Did your head get caught in the bronze door and you don't recognize your brother? Or is it..."
He didn't finish his sentence.
Because Zhang Qiling had already walked up to him and bent down. The two were so close they could feel each other's breath. Zhang Qiling reached out, but instead of touching him, he reached past him and picked up the crumpled pack of cigarettes that he had placed on the sofa armrest...
Hei Xiazi was completely dumbfounded.
Zhang Qiling pulled a cigarette from the pack, his movements somewhat clumsy, yet carrying an undeniable firmness. Then, he did something that made Hei Xiazi's pupils shrink sharply—
He lowered his head slightly and brought his own cigarette closer to the half-extinguished cigarette butt between the black bear's fingers.
A brief orange spark ignited between the two, illuminating Zhang Qiling's deep, expressionless eyes, which were so close yet so strikingly profound. Smoke rose, blurring his features, but making the intensely suppressed emotion in those eyes even clearer.
He took a drag, then slowly exhaled. A bluish-white wisp of smoke brushed against Black Bear's cheek.
The entire process was silent, yet filled with an indescribable aggression and... ambiguity.
Zhang Qiling looked at the completely frozen Hei Xiazi and finally spoke, his voice low and hoarse, yet carrying an unprecedented warmth and a clear, resolute declaration:
"I'm back."
He paused, his gaze fixed intently on the person before him, and then, slowly and deliberately, added the second half of the sentence, as if making a vow:
"This time, it's my turn to protect you."
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