Chapter 316: Xu Qing's Past

Chapter 316: Xu Qing's Past

"Al Brother, don't cry."

The youth in black robes gazed at Xu Qing's tears, gently ruffling his head with a soft voice.

"Why do you still cry like you did when you were young?"

Xu Qing's body trembled, his gaze falling upon the face that should have been familiar, yet now seemed eerily alien.

The figure before him was his elder brother, standing countless times in his memory, steadfast as a mountain whenever Xu Qing wept. Each time, he had gently stroked his head, speaking the same tender words.

This was the most beautiful image in Xu Qing's mind, the fragile and cherished place beneath his hardened exterior, sustaining him through the harsh, frigid walls.

Now, the walls had crumbled.

The black-robed youth looked into Xu Qing's eyes, his voice gentle.

"Al Brother, I have had many siblings in my previous life, but I never truly understood the warmth of the world. All I encountered were indifference and schemes, whether it was the Emperor or my brothers and sisters—they were the same."

"So in this life, I long for you, whether it be Father and Mother, or you... especially the one who loves to cry." The black-robed youth gazed at Xu Qing, speaking softly.

"But when I awakened my past memories, I would perish and wither away unless I immediately offered a complete city to complete the divine ritual."

The youth spoke plainly.

"At that time, I watched you, sitting in the bloodstained mud and corpses, crying helplessly for Father and Mother, for your elder brother. I was truly fortunate to survive, and I wished to rush to you, stroke your head, and tell you, Al Brother, don't cry."

Xu Qing heard these words, and his thunderous mind erupted anew. His body convulsed violently, his heart surged with a fiercer tempest. A low growl escaped his throat, though it could not be fully voiced.

It transformed into fresh blood, trickling from his mouth and nose, droplets falling to the ground.

The black-robed youth knelt, gazing at Xu Qing with pity, placing a candied fruit in his hand.

"I saw it on the way, reminded me of you liking sweets. I bought it for you."

After speaking, the youth cast a deep look at Xu Qing, donning the divine mask over his face, and walked forward.

The Saint Junzi father and son bowed their heads, silently following, passing by Xu Qing.

The last to pass was the Night Raven carrying the head of the sixth prince.

Night Raven's steps halted, his voice low.

"I am Night Raven. I didn't expect you to have such a connection with your master."

Upon finishing, Night Raven departed, the sky echoing with thunder, clouds thick with snow and rain, pouring down together.

Xu Qing's body convulsed, struggling to rise, to chase after them, to speak inquisition, until his struggle reached its peak. The black-robed youth, walking ahead, paused, his voice a whisper:

"By the way, Al Brother, your parents' bodies were interred on the Zhaoxi Mountain in Fenghai Commandery. You may visit them when you have time."

These words floated to Xu Qing's ears, becoming the final thunderclap that shattered him. The thunder's magnitude surpassed all, its power annihilating everything.

Xu Qing's body trembled to its limits, his eyes red as blood, his breath chaotic, his heart a vast sorrow.

In an instant, his form convulsed, and he could move.

A piercing scream erupted from his mouth, unprecedented in his nature. He was not one to howl, yet now, his sorrow and anguish, uncontrolled, escaped.

He whirled, chasing the black-robed youth and the others, sprinting with all his might, knowing it was irrational, yet he could not think rationally.

The cold wind blew, snow and rain mingling as thunder roared. The icy chill struck his body, yet Xu Qing pursued endlessly, never catching sight of anything.

Until the snow and rain intensified, Xu Qing's internal turmoil surged, spewing a mouthful of blood, mingling with the precipitation to stain the earth. At that moment, Xu Qing's body trembled, collapsing to his knees.

Snow and rain fell on his hair, shoulders, and face, indistinguishable from tears, flowing to the ground.

Finally, a bitter laugh escaped Xu Qing, lifting his head to gaze at the heavens, the night, and the shadowy divine mask in the darkness.

A segment of his past, long buried in his most tender heart, slowly surfaced in his fractured soul.

That was thirteen years prior.

The memory, already uncontrollably blurred, was the norm of life.

Yet Xu Qing remembered the warmth of having a home, his parents' embrace, the harmony of the four-family laughter.

He recalled his father's weathered palms, his mother's gentle gaze, faintly remembering the scent of home-cooked meals.

All of this ended with that day.

He could not forget that day, the divine mask in the sky suddenly opening its eyes.

Its gaze fell upon the city where he dwelled. In an instant, the world blurred, all things distorted, the city vanished, his parents vanished, his brother vanished.

All had disappeared.

Only an abundance of remains and blood rain fell from the sky, leaving only him, alone and terrified in the mud, crying out for his parents, for his brother.

Until he cried himself unconscious.

When he awoke, he believed it was a nightmare, expecting his parents and brother to appear. Yet in that instant, he saw the world unchanged, realizing the nightmare had perhaps just begun.

At seven or eight years old, he no longer remembered how he had left or survived, how he had eaten the inedible food, or the desperate struggles between life and death.

Gradually, he became a street orphan, filthy and seeing countless evils of human nature.

He learned to fight for food with dogs, to bare his teeth, to endure and remain vigilant, preferring to hide in darkness.

Gradually, he learned to kill, and after killing a man in a poor district who sought to eat him, he slowly dismembered the head, hanging it on a tree to claim his space.

Gradually, he yearned for city life, envying their clean clothes, longing to become a cultivator for a better existence.

Survival became his sole inner thought.

He was not meant to become this way; the world had changed him.

Thus, he revered knowledge above all.

Thus, he was ruthless to enemies, repaying every insult.

Thus, he was grateful beyond measure to those who aided him.

This was why the poor district's city was not feared during the divine catastrophe—on one hand, life had already been so harsh, death held no terror; on the other... he had endured.

Yet he secretly hoped his parents and brother were alive, merely lost to him.

This was his secret, never spoken to anyone.

When leaving the ruins with Lei Dui, the team members muttered about the city that vanished years ago. Xu Qing heard but remained silent.

When the captain explained the city was sacrificed, Xu Qing still said nothing.

When the seventh prince in Huo Jing revealed the secret of Ziqiu's royal family and the prince's death, Xu Qing remained silent.

Just as he now, weeping in the snow and rain, gradually ceased his wailing, his trembling, sinking back into silence.

He repaired his inner heart, perfected his high walls, sealing away the bitter fragility and aversion to touch.

Until much later, he drew out the jade slip from his pouch, carving two characters on it in the rain and snow: "Brother."

These characters he wrote earnestly, with all his might.

"One day, if I do not die, I will kill you, the prince of Ziqiu."

Xu Qing murmured in his heart, closed his eyes, and after a long while, opened them to carve the Holy Xunzi father and son, and carved Yao Ao.

In the rain and snow, he stood up, did not look back, and walked farther and farther.

The cold in the wind and snow suddenly made him feel no longer afraid.

His back bore a lingering melancholy and a sharp demeanor, like a lone wolf, yet also bore the maturity forged by hardship.

Xu Qing remembered Lei Dui's words: the more things buried in one's heart, the more mature one becomes.

Xu Qing felt that he had already grown quite mature.

He needed to return to the clan hall once, and after growing strong enough, he would leave the Huangzhou to find Chaoshan Mountain.

Moreover, he was not only to kill those carved but also harbor unprecedented killing intent toward the Zhu Zhi organization.

"Zhu Zhi."

Xu Qing's voice was hoarse, and after speaking softly, he drew out his magic vessel and mounted it. In an instant, the magic vessel transformed into a long dragon, racing through the rain and snow toward the Seven Clans Alliance.

In the magic vessel's cabin, Xu Qing sat silently, meditating without movement.

Time flowed slowly, one point after another.

Until three days later, Xu Qing slowly opened his eyes.

He looked down at his storage bag, opened it after a long while, took out a jar of wine, and drank it deeply. The fiery sensation flowed into his throat, reminding him of his first time drinking wine.

At that time, Lei Dui had laughed and said he was too young to understand the taste of wine.

After the Seven Blood Eyes, Xu Qing understood, and today, he found the wine not fierce enough.

He drank another deep mouthful, then rose and left the cabin, standing on the deck to gaze at the vast night sky, feeling the gale from the heavens. Slowly, he lowered his eyes to look far ahead.

Half a moment later, Xu Qing took out a flute, held it to his mouth.

Gradually... sporadic, melancholic flute melodies echoed and scattered through the magic vessel.

In the lingering rotation, it narrated past events.

This melody was called "Li Shang."

At this moment, in Huangzhou, in the wilderness, the group of Zhu Zhi walked without anyone speaking.

The young man in black ahead was indifferent, and those behind were silent.

Until a long time, Yao Ao looked up at his master, hesitated, and spoke softly.

"Master, is your method to provoke Xu Qing to grow into the person you desire, or perhaps... he is also a reincarnated soul like you?"

The young man in black shook his head and spoke indifferently.

"You're thinking too much. I act on impulse, I don't have the habit of provoking others."

"My younger brother has no past life. He is just an ordinary child. But in this life, before my memory awakened, the feeling of brotherly love became a burden after awakening."

"Master, if I sever the bond, it could make my cultivated heart more complete. Yao Ao is willing to do it!"

Yao Ao bowed his head and spoke softly.

"I do not cultivate the Way, nor do I need a cultivated heart. I cultivate the gods." The young man in black's eyes grew calm, walking farther and farther.