Chapter 97

Chapter 97: Please, Young Master Xie? Brother Xie?

As evening approached, Sang Nian and Xie Chenzhou returned to the small house together.

For some reason, she felt inexplicably awkward.

Xie Chenzhou didn’t speak either, his face was tightly drawn.

The air was eerily quiet.

Fortunately, Weiwei came running over with her short legs.

Sang Nian felt a sense of relief, her enthusiasm tenfold compared to before:

“It’s Weiwei, do you need something?”

The little girl pulled on Xie Chenzhou’s clothes:

“Zhou.”

Xie Chenzhou squatted down with no patience:

“What are you doing again?”

She took out the wooden bird she had been carrying with her, and solemnly placed it in his palm:

“It protects, Zhou, Zhou.”

Xie Chenzhou glanced at the bird, his tone dismissive:

“What ugly thing, I don’t want it.”

Weiwei said: “You, want!”

After saying that, she didn’t give Xie Chenzhou a chance to return it, and turned around and ran away.

Xie Chenzhou stood up, looking down at the bird.

It was half the size of his palm, carved in the image of a red pheasant bird.

It wasn’t exquisite, but the lines were simple and flowing, showing that the carver had put a lot of effort into it.

It looked strangely familiar.

Sang Nian also leaned over to take a closer look.

“Like a child’s toy.”

She casually said:

“My family bought me one when I was little, but mine was made of ceramic, and it could sing, it was so beautiful.”

Xie Chenzhou rubbed his aching temples, and a scene from his forgotten past suddenly flooded his mind.

Was he three years old then, or four?

He couldn’t remember, but it was around that age.

A young child sat on a young man’s broad shoulders, crying endlessly for two little birds at the market.

A blurry-faced young woman came over, gently wiping away his tears, and spread out the palm of her left hand.

Her voice was full of laughter, softly coaxing him:

“Do you want this wooden bird?”

Three-year-old Xie Chenzhou sobbed and pushed her away, throwing a tantrum at her:

“I don’t want this ugly thing, I want a live one that can hop and sing!”

The woman’s voice took on a hint of unspoken sadness:

“Living things will always die one day, Mother made this wooden bird, it won’t die, it will always, always stay with you.”

Always, always.

Stay with you.

Xie Chenzhou swayed, almost unable to stand.

Sang Nian quickly supported him:

“What’s wrong with you?!”

Xie Chenzhou forcefully closed his eyes, unconsciously clenching his fists.

The edges of the wooden carving were digging into his palm, causing a sharp pain.

“Nothing,” he said, “Maybe… it’s just my imagination.”

How could that woman who had abandoned him long ago have such a gentle side.

It was all just his imagination.

Sang Nian: “Are you really okay?”

Xie Chenzhou caught the concern on her face, the corner of his lips twitched, and he patiently untied her hair:

“I said I’m fine, so I’m fine.”

Sang Nian: “Oh.”

After a while, she mustered up her courage and said:

“Tonight”

Xie Chenzhou said flatly: “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Sang Nian immediately jumped up and down again, giggling and saying:

“That would be so embarrassing for me.”

Xie Chenzhou: “Then you sleep on the floor.”

Sang Nian still giggled:

“Okay.”

Xie Chenzhou: “Can’t you just beg me?”

So, Sang Nian leaned over, softening her voice:

“Please, Young Master Xie? Brother Xie? Xie ugh!”

She was pulled into a warm embrace, her lips were sealed, and her wrists were pressed against the table.

She accepted him without reservation.

The young man held her head with one hand, his actions were forcefully unfamiliar, not allowing her to retreat even an inch.

He looked down at her face, and before she could catch her breath, he released her, sitting back with a composed air.

Sang Nian: “…”

She fiercely flipped him off with her middle finger.

His eyes darkened.

She was prepared, and quickly dodged his hand, quickly standing up:

“Stop it, it’s almost completely dark, don’t forget what Jing Xian said.”

Xie Chenzhou missed, twirled his fingers, and looked somewhat regretful.

Sang Nian said: “Something is definitely going to happen tonight, we should be on our guard.”

He lazily said: “I know.”

Sang Nian: “Be serious.”

Xie Chenzhou sighed, and answered word by word:

“I know it.”

Sang Nian was finally satisfied.

The sky darkened.

The moon rose, and the moonlight filtered through the branches and leaves, as fragmented as snow.

Sang Nian closed the door tightly, leaving a small crack in the window, and vigilantly observed outside.

The village was very quiet, not even a single cricket chirping.

“It seems like nothing is happening,” she said to Xie Chenzhou.

Xie Chenzhou leaned against the wall, holding his sword, his eyes closed:

“Wait a little longer.”

Sang Nian continued to observe.

In a blink of an eye, it was midnight.

Countless screams tore through the night.

Sang Nian, who was about to fall asleep, suddenly woke up, she quickly leaned out the window, her drowsiness instantly vanished.

After realizing what was happening, she abruptly pushed open the window, wanting to rush out.

Xie Chenzhou reached out to stop her:

“Dangerous.”

She shook her head, her trembling fingers pointed out the window, gesturing for him to look quickly.

Xie Chenzhou completely pushed open the window, his pupils contracted.

The firelight overwhelmed the moonlight, everything was stained with an eerie red.

The smell of rust was so thick it was nauseating.

Piles of corpses, rivers of blood.

Screams rang out continuously.

The Zhuyu people fled in all directions, but were still claimed by the cold sword light.

Heads rolled to the window.

On their blood-soaked faces, those beautiful eyes remained wide open, a flicker of tears in their pupils.

Xie Chenzhou looked at him for a moment, recognizing him as Qingyu’s husband, Weiwei’s father.

He looked up at the sky.

In the air, dozens of cultivators in fine clothing stood in the air, each one a renowned Grandmaster from five hundred years ago.

They coldly looked down at this blood-soaked land, their faces devoid of any emotion.

Sang Nian’s voice trembled:

“What is going on?”

Xie Chenzhou hugged her tightly, whispering comfort:

“This is just an illusion.”

Sang Nian: “Fake? I clearly smelled blood…”

He hugged her even tighter:

“These are the dreams of the Zhuyu people, their resentment is too heavy, we were pulled in.”

Pain was never forgotten, it was just carefully hidden away in another place.

In their dreams, they died just like they did back then, night after night.

Never resting.