Chapter 57: Wishful Thinking |
[August 20, 2023]...
Shěn Lí’s sight still hadn’t returned three days later. She was imprisoned before and couldn’t move, so her vision and other senses weren’t important, but now she was outside again and in a strange place. She needed her vision urgently to understand her surroundings. Where was she and how safe was it? How far from the Demon realm was she and how far was it from the place she escaped?
Most importantly, she wanted to know who saved her.
She didn’t have any magic powers and couldn’t discern the depths of the other party. All she knew were scattered bits of information gleaned from touch. For example, she knew the person had to be a fisherman who didn’t like to talk. Her hearing had recovered in the past three days, but she hadn’t heard him speak. As far as she could tell, he was harmless, but that didn’t mean she was letting down her guard with someone she hadn’t properly met “face to face” yet. More puzzling still, why had he saved her?
From her perspective, this was the most suspicious thing: not seeking profit or physical gratification but doing so without expectations.
Shěn Lí opened her eyes at the sound of footsteps outside. Her vision was still black and the metal in her hands and feet made it difficult for her to move. In that moment, she really was a useless person who had to lie in bed and be served by others. The entire thing left her feeling depressed. She even thought about silencing the fisherman afterwards to keep the entire thing a secret.
Subtle sounds came through to her ears. Whoever the other party was, his movements were very light and unlike those of a rough man living in the mountains. Shěn Lí smelled food, so it had to be time to eat. “I can’t tell if it’s midday or evening. . . ” she muttered unconsciously. She didn’t expect a reply, but the sounds of tinkering stopped, and a slightly hoarse male voice said, “Midday.”
Shěn Lí was momentarily stunned by the unfamiliar, tense voice. Just in time because her hearing and speech worked today. She continued to ask, “Where is this place?”
“The seashore.” The other party paused and added some more information. “By the East sea.”
Since meeting him, though it seemed like she was constantly getting injured, he was always there to save her. This time. . .
A spoonful of porridge came near her mouth. Smelling the fragrance suddenly made her extremely hungry. It wasn’t as good as Xíng Zhǐ’s handiwork, but for a mortal it was quite good. Shěn Lí moved her fingers up and said, “I’ll do it myself.” But when she moved her shoulders to push herself up to a seated position, her body convulsed. Her limbs failed her, and she fell back onto the bed and couldn’t move again. She didn’t feel any pain since her sense of touch was missing today, but an overwhelming sense of powerlessness and failure rose from the bottom of her heart.
Shěn Lí wondered when she had ever been in such a predicament.
The other person sighed and fed her the porridge without saying a word.
Fed by the other party, Shěn Lí quietly finished drinking the bowl of porridge one spoonful at a time.
“Do you want more?”
Shěn Lí was silent for a long time before answering the wrong question.
“These four metal posts were formed by fitting the inner core to the outer casing. The outer casing wraps around the inner core. First, the inner core is passed through the flesh and bone, then pulled out to the other side. Then it’s attached to the outer shell before finally being tightened. In this way, it’s impossible for me to break free.”
Shěn Lí spoke in an indifferent tone without inflection as if it had nothing to do with her.
“The turbulence from the past few days knocked the knobs loose. I want you to help me unscrew the four black iron posts. The whole process may be a bit ugly, but if it works, this king will reward you with a wish.”
The other party didn’t respond for a long time. Shěn Lí couldn’t see the person’s expression in the dark and didn’t know what response she would get; so the wait felt really long.
“Okay.” He responded with just a single word, but the word seemed to take a lot of effort from him.
“If so, then twist it out for me while I don’t feel any pain today.”
The other party gathered several items, including a basin of hot water, which he placed beside Shěn Lí’s bed. Then he placed his hand on her wrist.
Shěn Lí smiled. “I didn’t expect you to be so meticulous in your efforts. Do you have any thoughts about cultivating? If you want to become an immortal, I can help find a path for you after I recover from my injury.”
The man laughed lightly. “But I think immortality isn’t as good as what I have now.”
Shěn Lí had some feelings about that. “The immortals are extremely comfortable. I’m afraid if there is anyone uncomfortable in the Immortal realm. . . it would only be that one person.”
The fingertips on Shěn Lí’s wrists trembled slightly, but the man remained silent. He held the protruding metal at both ends and twisted. It was loose enough now that even an ordinary mortal could unscrew it with a little bit of effort.
Beads of sweat formed on Shěn Lí’s forehead from the small motions. She closed her eyes and adjusted her breathing. “As quickly as possible.” She didn’t feel pain, but her body had a limit.
The other person finally loosened the black outer shell from the inner core. A few drops of blood began oozing from Shěn Lí’s bluish-white wrist. If she left it for any longer, her hands and feet would have probably suffered permanent damage and most likely become lame.
One of the black bars hit the ground with a thunk and sizzle after being pulled out. Steam spread around it for a short moment before quickly cooling down. The man seemed unaffected by the extremely hot bar and proceeded to use his bare hands to methodically unscrew it from Shěn Lí’s other wrist.
Shěn Lí was too busy convulsing uncontrollably to pay attention to the details.
All she knew was the roar of blood rushing through her body. The hard hammering of her heartbeat drummed and thudded so strongly it felt like her heart was going to explode. Her lungs couldn’t pull in air fast enough and her mind became chaotic. Jumbled images appeared in her already dark world.
She saw her younger self being taught marksmanship and spells by the Demon emperor. A gloomy eye watched from the side. Shěn Lí, inexplicably flustered, took two steps back. An urge to run came over her. But when she turned, she saw Mò Fāng standing. Behind him floated a one-eyed ghost, and together they stared coldly at her. She didn’t know when, but Mò Fāng’s eyes changed and became colder and colder.
Shěn Lí’s heart tightened, and she turned to run in a different direction. An endless dark road lay ahead of her. Behind her, treacherous laughter sounded, as if to chase her into a corner. Shěn Lí, nearly out of breath, stopped and waved a hand to summon her spear, but what came to her were a couple of loud clangs. Her spear fell to the ground in two pieces in front of her. She was momentarily stunned while the laughter behind drew closer. She gritted her teeth, turned her head, and waited to see what monster was chasing.
But the laughter stopped suddenly, and her surroundings became quiet, as if nothing was there. Then a crack appeared in front of her, and from it came a gentle breeze.
Shěn Lí looked up slowly and realized it was the same gateway to the Ruins she saw when she was out on her own that one night, only this time there was no miasma leaking out.
An eye suddenly dashed out toward her from the crack. Shěn Lí was so horrified that she gasped.
“I will kill the gods. . . ” It spoke gloomily. “I will kill the gods!”
As the voice got louder and louder, Shěn Lí’s mind became uneasy. “Shut up.” It was difficult, but she managed to squeeze out the two words. The sight of black ooze leaking from the crack forced Shěn Lí to retreat several steps. She shouted, “Shut up!” as the voice grew louder. Her eyes turned red and hot flames sprang from her body, as if readying to burn everything up.
“Shěn Lí.” A different voice whispered to her from the other side. She looked and saw a familiar courtyard with grape trellis. The man in the bamboo rocking chair held out his hand to her. He was wearing a bluish green robe.
“Come, let’s bask in the sunshine together.” He spoke casually, as if he didn’t see the chaos surrounding her.
Shěn Lí stared blankly at him; then she stared at the flames around her body and shook her head. “I will kill you if I do.”
He withdrew his hand, but his smile didn’t falter.
Shěn Lí lowered her head in silence.
Amidst the flames burning from her body, a coolness traced a path that covered her from head to toe. She looked up dazed, but the man had changed into a white robe and was walking up to her. He smiled and pulled her into his arms in a hug. He patted her on the back gently, comforting her like a child. “I’m fine. See?”
The red in Shěn Lí’s eyes gradually faded. She knew their respective responsibilities would force them to drift farther apart, that she should pull away from his embrace, but. . . may the gods be merciful and forgive her for not being able to.
Just let her. . . just let her finish the dream. . .
She relaxed and melted into Xíng Zhǐ’s embrace, allowing herself to fall into a pitch-black oblivion.
Shěn Lí opened her eyes to dazzling sunlight and the sight of a man asleep on a chair by the table. He had one hand propping up his head and a jade hairpin loosely holding his hair up. A few strands worked loose and lay against his cheek. The white robe he wore was so long it dragged on the floor and draped in a pool by his feet. Lit from behind the sun, he looked unbelievably beautiful.
What fisherman could look so tragically good looking?
Shěn Lí was moved. She didn’t know what expression to make. In the end, she just stared at him in a daze with a grin on her face. Xíng Zhǐ, she was picked up by him again.
God was too unkind to give them such an ill-fated relationship!
The metal bolts in her limbs had been removed and her wounds were now wrapped in strips of white cloth. It wasn’t a cloth of the mortal world, so it had to have been torn from his robe. Her wounds felt cool, so he had to have treated her as well.
Shěn Lí turned away, closed her eyes and stopped looking at him. How could she not know his thoughts? He had to know she would have refused his help and asked him to leave if she knew he was the one taking care of her. She would have been as decisive as he had been that day when he revealed his hand and severed their relationship.
They were aware of each other’s responsibilities and could easily guess what the other person would do.
But. . .
Xíng Zhǐ never expected the Azure Sky king, Shěn Lí, wasn’t a heartless person, that she could be weak and want to indulge in a bit of warmth.
Shěn Lí opened her eyes again and pretended she was still dreaming, that the gods were merciful and would forgive her for shirking her responsibilities this once.
Was it possible, that before her injury healed, Shěn Lí could just be Shěn Lí, and not the Azure Sky king? That she was picked up from the beach by a fisherman with a hoarse voice who was usually silent? That they could live a few ordinary and peaceful mortal days together?
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