298 Untitled (1/2)

”Ahh!”

A terrible scream reverberated around the dark, tiny cell as fresh blood splattered across all four walls.

Claw-like fingers twisted here and there around the body; clearly, this was not pain that a normal human could endure. The throat emitted a gurgling noise as fresh blood spurted out again from the mouth.

Thereafter, a lifeless body fell heavily onto the ground.

Thud.

The nasal, youthful voice exclaimed softly as if slightly surprised and murmured, ”Pity.”

It wasn't clear whether the voice was referring to the lifeless body or the person that had suddenly launched itself over.

The voice sighed nonchalantly, and with a flick of his sleeve, he retreated outside in a puff of green smoke and said, ”Count yourselves lucky…”

The green smoke dissipated, revealing the body on the ground.

It belonged to the prisoner from the cell next door.

Meng Fuyao punched the bars of the neighboring cell; the three of them had already shifted their fight to the wall next door, fighting all the way to that neighbor. Not counting the neighbor as part of the fight, they ignored him, leaving him to watch them, trembling, until the imposter reached out behind Meng Fuyao, did he suddenly launch himself forward.

With her mind filled with the fake Zhangsun Wuji, Meng Fuyao reached out to block Zhangsun Wuji's turning body, yet she didn't expect someone to be willing to be a human shield for her.

Meng Fuyao's face was filled with shock as she stared at the dying man beneath her feet. After a moment, she bent down and asked, ”Why?”

The man looked at her, perhaps it could have been a reflection, but his eyes seemed to shine even brighter as he opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but his throat was blocked by blood froth. Meng Fuyao reached out and grabbed his wrist, then patted his back, letting him cough out the blood froth.

He took a deep breath and stared at Meng Fuyao, then stuttered, ”Are… you… her…”

His voice was slight, and his words incomprehensible. Meng Fuyao couldn't hear him and leaned closer to ask, ”Wan?”

The person sniffled noiselessly, it seemed as if he were crying.

Meng Fuyao thought for a moment. She knew that this person's organs were utterly damaged and there was no hope for him to speak coherently anymore. Hence, she had to ask, ”This Wan, is it alive or dead?”

”Dead…” Meng Fuyao revealed an ”I knew it” expression when the person said again, ”Alive…”

Meng Fuyao's mouth twitched, only then remembering that this person was half-mad to begin with, what could she expect from him?

She was expecting too much.

”Where is she? Who is she?”

”Wan… Yan Forest… Under…”

”Yan Peak? Yan Pass? Yan Forest?” Meng Fuyao asked persistently. There were too many similar-sounding names on Mandarin, and it was difficult to figure out which one he was referring to.

”Can you write?”

However, the last spark of life had left the person's eyes as it dulled, his body tensing suddenly as he grabbed her hand, tears welling in his eyes as he rasped, ”Wan… I was wrong…”

He trembled violently, unable to coherently express anything anymore, yet he continued to mumble ”wrong,” lodging the word in his blood-filled throat.

Seeing that he was still clinging on to life torturously as if waiting for something, she thought for a moment and said, ”Are you waiting for her forgiveness? If… If she and I are related… I forgive you on her behalf.”

Once those two words, ”forgive you,” left her mouth, his entire body relaxed, and the person leaned back and let out a long sigh, his eyes wide open as it slowly darkened. After that, he did not move any longer.

The moon shone across the partially destroyed wall, falling on the person's pale body.

In the darkness, Meng Fuyao sat in silence, thinking about the few words he had spoken before his death, thinking about the expression of indignance and guilt, thinking about how he still sought for his Wan-er's forgiveness even at the doors of death. Suddenly, she felt a cold creep through her body, as if her body had been doused in ice and all the heat in her body sucked dry.

Behind her, someone placed a hand on her shoulder and said, ”Fuyao, sometimes not knowing has its advantages, knowing will be a burden. No matter what, I'm here with you.”

”Mn,” Meng Fuyao murmured as she smiled and grasped his hand. The skin on her shoulder was hot under his touch, comforting and warm.

Because it was cold, it felt even warmer.