Qianming spun through Lian Qiguang’s hand before he swung it horizontally behind him, severing several branches that lashed toward him. Expressionless, Lian Qiguang watched the countless branches continuously attacking from every direction. His fingers rubbed against the hilt as he remained alert to his surroundings.
A branch grazed his cheek, leaving behind a burning sting. Bright crimson blood trickled down his face, sliding past the corner of his mouth before dripping onto his collar, carrying the faint salty scent of blood.
Several thick vines burst from beneath the ground, throwing up clouds of dust as they rushed toward Lian Qiguang from all sides. He stepped back several paces and glanced expressionlessly toward Qingyi and the others. Confirming that they were still unconscious, a cold light flashed through his eyes.
Qianming left its sheath.
A thousand birds seemed to cry out at once.
Brilliant crimson flames engulfed the blade, surrounding Lian Qiguang in a sea of fire.
Fire overcomes wood.
Burn them all.
The flames transformed into a blazing dragon, sweeping outward in every direction. Following the tangled branches, they charged straight toward the Thousand-Year Drunken Tree.
Accompanied by a shrill, agonized screech, the giant tree—over thirty meters tall—began shaking violently. But Lian Qiguang’s flames were no ordinary fire. With Qianming’s murderous aura suppressing it, there was no chance for the flames to be extinguished.
Lian Qiguang sheathed his blade and watched expressionlessly as the Thousand-Year Drunken Tree’s struggles gradually weakened before finally ceasing altogether.
The massive tree crumbled into ashes and scattered into the wind.
Once everything had returned to silence, Lian Qiguang’s body swayed, and he dropped to one knee, breathing heavily.
After resting for a while and recovering some strength, he stood and walked over to Qingyi. He checked each of them one by one, confirming they were all unharmed before sitting down again.
Recalling everything he had experienced in the “dream,” he carefully examined every detail, unwilling to overlook even the smallest clue.
His expression gradually became strange once more.
He suddenly remembered visiting his own memorial museum with Mi Xiaobao and Feng Qingyang.
The stone statue standing at the entrance…
It now seemed to overlap perfectly with the image from his dream—himself standing atop the city wall while surrounded by an endless tide of zombies.
If he had truly returned to the past…
Then after using his own blood as a sacrifice to shatter the illusion, how had he survived?
And how had the Zombie King died afterward?
Beep! Beep!
The sudden sound from his optical computer interrupted his thoughts.
Lian Qiguang lowered his head to look at the incoming message. He froze for a moment.
A strange expression slowly spread across his face.
“Shaoxuan.”
Opening the communicator, Lian Qiguang lowered his eyes slightly, hiding the unusual emotions within them. His voice remained as calm and flat as ever.
“…You’re hurt?”
The instant Xiahou Shaoxuan noticed the cuts on Lian Qiguang’s face and the blood covering his body, the anger that had nearly burst forth was forcibly suppressed, replaced entirely by worry.
“Just superficial wounds. I’m fine.”
“Are you alone?” Xiahou Shaoxuan frowned deeply.
Another attack on Fallen Star.
He couldn’t even remember how many times it had happened anymore.
The increasingly frequent assaults had already put him on high alert. If it were merely coincidence, that would be one thing.
But he had never believed in coincidences.
While commanding another battle against the latest enemy attack, his second uncle had suddenly informed him that something had happened to Lian Qiguang.
His heart had skipped a beat.
After reactivating the communicator he’d temporarily shut down, he immediately discovered abnormalities in Lian Qiguang’s signal. He hurriedly finished dealing with the battlefield and contacted him without even taking time to rest.
Yet call after call went unanswered.
Finally, when the connection was established, the first thing he saw was the person he’d been worrying about standing before him covered in blood.
“They’re all still unconscious.”
Lian Qiguang shifted aside so Xiahou Shaoxuan could see Qingyi and the others lying behind him.
“I’ve already sent out your location. Stay where you are and wait for rescue.”
“When will they arrive?” Lian Qiguang looked up expressionlessly.
“Judging by the distance, if nothing unexpected happens, someone should reach you in about five hours.”
Five hours.
Something flickered in Lian Qiguang’s eyes.
Without another word, he stood up and began packing his things.
“Wife, what are you doing?” Xiahou Shaoxuan’s eyebrows twitched. He immediately had a very bad feeling.
“I’m leaving.”
“Wife!”
Xiahou Shaoxuan roared angrily.
His eyes turned red, like an enraged wolf.
“I still have something I haven’t done.”
Lian Qiguang looked at him seriously.
“What?”
“I have someone to kill.”
“He’s still alive.”
Before they had gotten separated, Lian Qiguang had planted a seed inside Ji Renlin.
He’d assumed Ji Renlin couldn’t possibly survive.
Yet the connection with that seed still remained.
Which meant…
Ji Renlin was still alive.
“Tell me who it is. I’ll kill him for you. Right now, you stay exactly where you are.”
Xiahou Shaoxuan’s face had turned green with anger.
“No.”
Lian Qiguang refused without hesitation.
“Lian Qiguang!”
“If you keep yelling at me…”
Lian Qiguang tilted his head.
“…I’ll delete you.”
He looked completely serious.
“You…”
“Shaoxuan.”
Seeing that Xiahou Shaoxuan genuinely seemed furious, Lian Qiguang fell silent for a moment before softly calling his name.
“I had a dream.”
“A nightmare…”
“I thought I’d never wake up from it.”
“…”
“I dreamed that I left this world.”
“…and we’d never see each other again.”
“What nonsense.”
Xiahou Shaoxuan frowned tightly.
Clearly, his understanding of “leaving this world” was entirely different from Lian Qiguang’s.
“In the dream…”
“I cried.”
Looking seriously at Xiahou Shaoxuan, Lian Qiguang’s normally expressionless face now carried emotions it had never shown before.
“I was very sad.”
“It hurt.”
“It hurt more than every injury I’d ever suffered before.”
“When I was injured before, I could always heal myself.”
“But this time…”
“I didn’t know what to do.”
“I couldn’t find the wound.”
“I thought I was really going to die.”
“Wife…”
“Shaoxuan.”
“I don’t know why.”
“But…”
“You’re very important to me.”
“Wife…”
Watching Lian Qiguang awkwardly search for the right words—trying with all his might to explain feelings he barely understood—Xiahou Shaoxuan felt as though his heart was about to melt because of this little troublemaker.
“You’re important to me too.”
“So…”
“I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“It won’t.”
“I have a secret weapon.”
Lian Qiguang answered earnestly.
The space might have been crippled, but it could still hide people.
“Wife…”
“I swear.”
“I won’t let anything happen to me.”
“Otherwise…”
“Otherwise what?” Xiahou Shaoxuan narrowed his eyes.
“Otherwise…”
Lian Qiguang hesitated for a long time.
Suddenly inspiration struck.
“Otherwise I’ll give you ten little meat buns!!”
He had suddenly remembered something Su Lang’s “wife” had once written in a guarantee letter after running away from home. Su Lang had spent half a year searching everywhere before dragging him back and forcing him to write a promise witnessed by Lian Qiguang.
One of the promises had read exactly that.
“…”
Xiahou Shaoxuan was dumbfounded.
“Will that do?” Lian Qiguang asked seriously after receiving no response.
“Keep your communicator on the whole time.”
Seeing that Lian Qiguang had completely made up his mind, Xiahou Shaoxuan could only compromise.
“Okay.”
“Be careful.”
“See you.”
Lian Qiguang waved.
“And clean those wounds.”
That was Xiahou Shaoxuan’s final reminder before the call disconnected.
Looking at the now-dark communicator, Xiahou Shaoxuan rubbed the space between his brows.
His already cold, sharp features became even icier as he fell into thought. Years of commanding others had naturally given him an imposing authority that made people instinctively fear him.
“If nothing happens…”
“Then nine will be enough.”
Using a medical treatment device, Lian Qiguang healed the injuries on his body before casually wiping away the bloodstains.
Looking down at the four unconscious people lying on the ground, something flickered in his eyes.
According to Shaoxuan, the rescue team would arrive soon.
That meant these people’s lives were no longer in danger.
But…
After a long silence, Lian Qiguang extended his hand.
A metal cup appeared.
Inside was water from the lake within his space.
The water shimmered with a deep blue glow. Pure energy flowed through it, radiating outward in gentle waves.
Just one cup alone instantly refreshed Lian Qiguang’s spirit.
He looked at it thoughtfully.
Then he returned it to the space and diluted the lake water with ordinary water at a ratio of one to one hundred before dividing it into four portions.
“If you can survive this…”
“The glory that belongs to you will come.”
Looking at the unconscious Mi Xiaobao, Lian Qiguang silently fed him the diluted lake water.
After Mi Xiaobao swallowed it, Lian Qiguang sat nearby and observed him carefully.
Ten full minutes passed.
Mi Xiaobao remained unconscious.
His breathing was steady.
His expression peaceful.
He looked as though he were merely asleep.
There wasn’t the slightest sign of discomfort.
Could this lake water simply look extraordinary while actually being nothing more than ordinary drinking water?
Though puzzled, Lian Qiguang still fed the remaining three portions to Qingyi, Feng Qingyang, and Lan Qi.
After waiting nearly another twenty minutes without seeing any reaction, and worried that the rescue team would arrive soon, Lian Qiguang finally had no choice but to leave.
What he never saw was that, the moment he departed, Mi Xiaobao—the first to drink the lake water—suddenly turned deathly pale.
His peaceful face twisted in agony.
His body curled tightly into a ball, as though enduring unbearable pain.
Nor did Lian Qiguang see that, in the instant he turned away…
A pair of eyes briefly opened.
Then quietly closed again.