Chapter 12: That Which Is Unwilling To Be Discarded

Chapter 12: Unwilling to Discard

"Call it off." Outside, by the mountain path, Luo Qi waved his hand wearily.

The icy wind howled through the mountains, far colder than in the stockade. At least the stockade had places to shelter from the wind and cold; out here working, the frost bit straight to the bone.

Luo Qi had been made a minor leader, tasked with ambushing passing merchants along the mountain road. But in this freezing weather, how many merchants could there be? After a whole day, he hadn't seen a single soul; the falling snow had already covered his hair and shoulders, and his thin frame looked like a frost-covered eggplant.

When he left the Luo family, he hadn't had time to pack any belongings. He only wore a thin coat, and after crouching in the snow and wind all day, even his modest cultivation couldn't hold out much longer.

His subordinates, on the other hand, were all bundled up thickly, faring better than him. Luo Qi, newly arrived and without established authority, couldn't very well snatch their clothes. He gritted his teeth and endured for a long time.

One of his subordinates said, "Chief Luo, guarding this mountain path isn't working. Maybe we should head toward the city..."

Luo Qi shook his head. "Let's hold out for two more days and see. I'm not sure if the higher-ups plan to preach in the city; if they do, believers will offer tribute. We can't act recklessly."

Preaching for tribute and banditry—two typical sources of income for the demon cult. If things developed well, they might even acquire property and businesses. But this new branch was just starting out, with nothing yet. So far, everyone's food had been bought from outside the mountains—the startup funds, so to speak.

The subordinate said, "But we've been starving all day! When we go back to the stockade, we'll get scolded, and they might not even give us food. If this keeps up, we'll starve to death ourselves!"

Luo Qi said, "Another day, we'll go to the city privately, and I'll treat the brothers to a meal."

The subordinates put on flattering smiles. It seemed this newly promoted leader knew how to handle people, easing some of their worries.

Luo Qi dismissed his subordinates and trudged wearily back to the stockade in the fading sunset.

Passing the underground altar, he glanced subconsciously at the secret door, so well hidden that no one would recognize it, and gave a faint, cold smile.

He knew what it was.

Zhao Changhe thought he had been coerced into coming, but only Luo Qi himself knew that on the way here, he wasn't under guard like a prisoner, nor was he too weak to walk away. He could have left halfway. So why did he insist on coming to suffer?

Because he had always understood what this place was, what the Blood God Cult did, and... why they had to destroy the Luo family.

After careful consideration, he had decided to come of his own accord.

He walked into the stockade as if nothing was wrong, went to the task hall to report the day's failed ambush, got chewed out for his trouble, and sure enough, was denied even a mouthful of food. Luo Qi smiled apologetically and withdrew, slowly making his way back to the living quarters.

From a distance, he saw his wooden hut. Zhao Changhe was at the door, reading a book by the last rays of the setting sun.

He really had the look of someone studying by firefly light, snow reflection, or drilling a hole in the wall.

He was also holding a horse stance, a book in his left hand, a single-blade knife in his right, practicing a downward chopping motion over and over.

In front of him was a wooden post. It seemed he was trying to strike the same spot every time, but so far, the cuts were all over the place, leaving the post covered in marks.

Luo Qi dared say he had never seen anyone so diligent... though, to be fair, he hadn't seen many people.

Zhao Changhe turned and saw him coming back, his face lighting up with surprise: "You're back?"

That natural, unguarded surprise struck Luo Qi as strange: "What are you so excited about?"

"Well... I was worried you might run into danger out there." Zhao Changhe laughed. "Looks like you're fine? That's good. Have you eaten?"

Luo Qi's gaze grew even more peculiar. After a long pause, he said, "I have."

In truth, Luo Qi hadn't eaten anything all day except for a corn bun in the morning. The moment he lied, his stomach let out a loud growl.

Luo Qi's face flushed red, and he glared at Zhao Changhe.

Zhao Changhe wasn't about to argue with a proud, stubborn person. He turned and went inside: "I was worried you wouldn't be able to find food in this icy weather, so I saved you some... You came back just in time; it's still warm."

Luo Qi followed as if in a dream, staring at the leftover rice still warm on the table, his mind a blank.

Seeing him standing there dazed, Zhao Changhe put on a stern face: "Don't tell me you're too proud to eat my leftovers? Make do, my senior brother."

Luo Qi said nothing, silently sitting down at the table, staring at the rice.

There was even a piece of meat in it.

"You... you need meat more than I do," he said, his voice a little rough.

Zhao Changhe waved a hand dismissively: "I had three servings at noon. That's enough. I'm not hungry."

Luo Qi didn't reply. Since when could skipping dinner be justified by a big lunch?

Zhao Changhe sat beside him while he ate, asking, "In this deep winter, what passing merchants are there? How are we supposed to do this kind of mission?"

"There are occasionally some. If not..." Luo Qi paused, not finishing the sentence. Instead, he turned to look at Zhao Changhe with curiosity: "Maybe this winter, many things that happened in Zhao Cuo will happen at our hands. Doesn't that bother you at all? Wouldn't your anger back then be pretty ironic?"

Zhao Changhe gazed absently at the setting sun outside and said quietly, "Before you came back, I was wrestling with that very question. I thought about it for a long time, and there's something I want to discuss with you."

Luo Qi asked in surprise, "What?"

"Before, I had no choice; I had to go with the flow. But now we actually have some room to maneuver." Zhao Changhe lowered his voice further: "For example, can we pick our targets? Like picking families like the Luo family—if we ruin them, we could at least claim we're acting on heaven's behalf, robbing the rich to help the poor? I suspect that's where a lot of so-called heroes get their income..."

Luo Qi's expression became extremely interesting. He stared at Zhao Changhe as if he were a freak for a long moment, then laughed: "I thought you were a hero, but you're this naive?"

"Naive? Maybe." Zhao Changhe said softly, "But there are some things I really don't want to lose."

Luo Qi didn't mock him. He lowered his head, poking at the rice in his bowl: "In a demon's den, you can't do as you please. You know in your heart that it's impossible."

Zhao Changhe said, "If it's impossible now, then get stronger. I've seen today that the demon cult respects strength above all. If you're powerful, others respect you; who dares to say a word? You're a leader now—at least you have some say over that team. If one day you become the branch master, then this place will be yours to command."

Zhao Changhe had another thought he didn't voice.

As long as he was strong enough to handle any future pursuit, he could always just run away. This shabby stockade—if he really wanted to slip away, it wouldn't be hard.

A stranger in a strange land, who cares about anyone? If he was born a bandit at heart, then being born with a rebellious streak was no big deal.

"Ha..." Luo Qi might have caught his unspoken meaning, or maybe not. He just sighed softly: "I hope you can keep your conscience, and keep your naivety. Like this meal... thank you."

Zhao Changhe laughed: "That tone is rare. So we're friends now, right?"

Luo Qi hummed in agreement, his voice gentle: "We have been for a long time."

In truth, it was more than friendship—it was almost like they were each other's only support. But Luo Qi had never imagined that word could ever apply to him and anyone.

"Then can we share the bed tonight?" Zhao Changhe tapped the table. "I've had enough of this one-sleeps-on-the-bed, one-sleeps-on-the-table routine. How long is this going to last? No matter what you say, tonight I'm sleeping on the bed. It's freezing as hell."

"..." Luo Qi said flatly, "You can sleep on the bed. Or maybe one day I'll die out there, and you won't have to worry about it."

Zhao Changhe snorted: "Are you sure you're not a woman? Why are you so fussy? This cross-dressing trope—nobody even reads it in novels anymore."

Luo Qi pointed irritably at his own Adam's apple: "I say, Zhao, have you gone crazy from loneliness? You see a woman in everything?"

"Exactly the opposite! I have no mood for fooling around with women right now!" Zhao Changhe fumed. "I really hope you're not a woman. A man is so much more convenient. A woman would be nothing but trouble! Can't you just be manly?"

Luo Qi's eyes went wide. After a long pause, he laughed: "Truly... the words of a gallant hero."

"You mean I'm a straight-up iron man, right? Oh, you don't know that term." Zhao Changhe gave up. "So what if I'm an iron straight man? Here's the deal: if you're a man, from today on we sleep together. If you're a woman, I'll go find Instructor Sun tomorrow morning, sell my ass, and beg him to change my room! Sleeping together—what a damn fuss over nothing!"

Luo Qi poked at the rice in his bowl with his chopsticks, the meat he'd been saving nearly shredded to pieces. He muttered inaudibly, "Truly a bandit. So crude."

Zhao Changhe didn't catch it: "What?"

"Nothing." Luo Qi lifted his chin. "Sleep together, then. Think I'm afraid of you?"