After parting ways with Qiu Limò, Lian Qiguang’s already gloomy mood grew even heavier. He wandered the streets alone, eventually sitting down on the side of the road, where he remained for most of the night. By the time Xiahou Luoyu found him in her hovercraft, Lian Qiguang had already developed a high fever.
Upon learning that Lian Qiguang had a fever, Xiahou Luoyu spewed a torrent of words. Lian Qiguang, dazed and disoriented, could no longer hear what Xiahou Luoyu was saying. Amid the dizziness, he felt utterly drained of strength, as if he were falling into a dark vortex.
Through a haze, Lian Qiguang felt as though he had returned to that dreamlike realm. The sky and earth were a blood-red, as if drenched in fresh blood. Thousands upon thousands of people were running through a city in ruins, ravaged by war. Screams, wails, and sobs intertwined, creating a scene straight out of hell on earth.
Lian Qiguang looked down upon it all from above. It felt as though something was pounding against his chest, the discomfort so intense it made him feel as if he were suffocating.
Suddenly, a man clad in a black cloak appeared in his field of vision. Lian Qiguang stared at him in bewilderment as a sense of helpless dread spread through his chest, gradually seeping deep into his very bones.
The man stood on the roof of a building and slowly turned around. A howling gale whipped his cloak, revealing a face mangled beyond recognition, its white bones starkly visible. As if sensing Lian Qiguang’s gaze, the man lifted his head, looked at Lian Qiguang, and grinned, revealing a sinister smile.
“………Teacher.”
When Lian Qiguang opened his eyes again, everything was pitch black. His dazed mind made him frown in discomfort.
Lian Qiguang slowly sat up, looking around in a daze. Although he was surrounded by darkness, it wasn’t hard for him to sense the unfamiliar atmosphere—it told him this wasn’t his dorm room, nor was it his home.
The door suddenly swung open from the outside, and the lights in the room came on. The sudden brightness made Lian Qiguang squint, and he raised his hand to shield his eyes.
“Xiaoguang!?” A delighted voice called out. An Zhanxin hurried over and sat down by the bed. “Xiaoguang, you’re awake? How are you feeling? Does anything still hurt?”
Lian Qiguang lowered his hand and looked blankly at the woman in front of him, his head feeling a bit foggy. “An…” An Zhanxin—Xiahou Shao Xuan’s mother.
“Xiaoguang, your health really is in such poor shape.” An Zhanxin helped Lian Qiguang lean against the headboard and tucked the blanket around him. “You actually ran a fever? No one has had this disease in nearly a century.”
“Where… am I?” Lian Qiguang looked around blankly and asked in a hoarse voice.
“At home, of course. Did you get confused in your sleep?” An Zhanxin laughed helplessly. “You’re in Xiaohou Shao Xuan’s room right now.”
Xiaohou Shao Xuan’s room? Then this must be the Xiaohou residence.
“Madam.” Qi Bo walked in from outside and bowed respectfully to An Zhanxin.
“Qi Bo, is there something you need?”
“Madam, the Patriarch just sent word that if the young madam wakes up, she should go to the study.”
An Zhanxin frowned slightly, a hint of displeasure in her voice. “Xiaoguang has just woken up and is still very weak. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”
“It’s all right.” She understood in her heart why Xiahou Zhong had summoned her; even Qi Guang seemed somewhat anxious—the blood-red hues in his dream had left him feeling uneasy. Qi Guang pulled back the blanket covering him and was about to get out of bed. “I’m fine now. Let’s go.”
“Xiaoguang.”
“Madam, please rest assured. The Head of the Family would never cause the Young Madam any trouble.” Qi Bo felt helpless at An Zhanxin’s anxiety and spoke up to comfort her.
“Xiao Guang.” An Zhanxin wasn’t one to jump to conclusions. Since Xiahou Zhong was so eager to take him away, there must be something important at stake. Worried, she turned to reassure Lian Qiguang. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. If your grandfather bullies you, just tell me—I’ll help you teach him a lesson.”
“Okay.” He nodded obediently.
“Young Madam, please.” Watching An Zhanxin give instructions as if she were heading into battle, Qi Bo found it amusing. He turned and motioned to Lian Qiguang.
Lian Qiguang followed Qi Bo out of the room and soon arrived outside the study. Qi Bo stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Lian Qiguang. “Young Madam, please go in on your own. The Patriarch is waiting for you inside.”
“Mm.” Lian Qiguang nodded, reached out to push open the door, and walked in slowly.
Inside the study, Xiahou Zhong sat behind his desk in casual attire, flipping through a somewhat tattered book. The yellowed pages made it easy to see the book’s age.
Xiahou Zhong did not look up when Lian Qiguang entered, but Lian Qiguang paid it no mind. She turned and sat down on a sofa, her dark eyes fixed calmly on Xiahou Zhong.
As time ticked by, Xiahou Zhong—who had been secretly watching Lian Qiguang out of the corner of his eye ever since he entered the room—couldn’t help but feel a twinge of irritation rising within him; he hadn’t taken in a single word of the book in his hands.
Realizing that Lian Qiguang was determined to wear him down, Xiahou Zhong resignedly closed the book and looked up at Lian Qiguang. If he didn’t break this stalemate soon, dawn would likely break before they were done.
“You’re here?” His steady voice rang out with authority, carrying the imposing presence of a battle-hardened veteran.
“Grandfather,” Lian Qiguang nodded, speaking with a blank expression.
“Stop.” Xiahou Zhong waved his hand, halting Lian Qiguang’s gesture. The expression in his eyes—a hint of a smile, yet not quite a smile—was inscrutable. “I can’t accept you calling me ‘Grandfather.’”
“It doesn’t matter. I won’t be as old as you when I die,” Lian Qiguang said earnestly. “You’re Shao Xuan’s grandfather, so naturally I must address you as such.”
“……” Xiahou Zhong
Gazing into Lian Qiguang’s calm, still black eyes, Xiahou Zhong remained silent for a long time. Finally, he couldn’t help but sigh. With a hint of dejection, he relaxed his stiff posture and leaned casually back against the chair, looking at Lian Qiguang with a complex expression.
“Shao Xuan has already told me about your situation. To be honest, I don’t believe it. It’s simply impossible for a human to span three thousand years.”
Lian Qiguang lowered his eyelids, pursed the corners of his mouth, and spoke quietly, “It’s fine if you believe it; if not, then never mind—just treat it as a story. But I must go to the museum to see my ‘remains.’ No one knows better than I do how I died. That corpse in the museum cannot possibly be mine.”
“But according to the examination, it is indeed a human from three thousand years ago,” Xiahou Zhong said in a deep voice, his eyes burning as he fixed them intently on Lian Qiguang.
“That’s exactly why I need to confirm it.” Lian Qiguang looked up, his brow slightly furrowed. “If it’s really as I suspect, I’m afraid…”
“Afraid of what?”
“……” Lian Qiguang lowered his head, slumped lazily against the sofa, his dark eyes fixed on the ceiling as he remained silent.
“What’s the matter? Just say it!” Lian Qiguang’s silence made Xiahou Zhong a bit anxious, and he couldn’t help but urge him.
Lian Qiguang lowered his head, his gaze fixed on Xiahou Zhong with a somber intensity. “If that’s really the case, you’d better pack your things and run for your life.”
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean is…” Lian Qiguang paused, then suddenly changed the subject, asking with an ambiguous tone, “If you had been born three thousand years earlier, during that apocalypse, how long do you think you could have survived?”
“???” Xiahou Zhong
“If my guess is correct, the darkness of three thousand years ago will return.”
“What?!” Xiahou Zhong sprang to his feet, his eyes wide, staring at Lian Qiguang in utter shock.
Shaken and terrified, Xiahou Zhong’s heart sank. He naturally understood the underlying meaning behind Lian Qiguang’s words and realized better than anyone else just how critical this matter was.
“Are you certain?” Xiahou Zhong sat back down, his expression grave as he looked at Lian Qiguang.
“*Almost certain. I need to confirm that last shred of doubt.”
Observing Lian Qiguang’s impassive expression, Xiahou Zhong remained silent for a long time before speaking in a deep voice, “All right, I agree to take you there. When would you like to go?”
“If possible, let’s go right now.”
“I’m afraid that won’t work,” Xiahou Zhong said, gesturing toward the time. “We’ll have to wait until dawn at the earliest.”
“Then at dawn,” Lian Qiguang nodded without a trace of pressure.
“You don’t seem particularly worried about this,” Xiahou Zhong said, narrowing his eyes probingly.
“What is there to worry about?” Lian Qiguang curled up on the sofa, expressionless as he fiddled with the lightbrain in his hand. “The end of the world has nothing to do with me, and the extinction of humanity doesn’t concern me either. I just want Shao Xuan to be safe; everyone else is just a bonus.”
“Isn’t Lord Darklight supposed to be humanity’s savior?”
“That was before.” Lian Qiguang set down his lightbrain and looked up at Xiahou Zhong. “I used to want to die, but now, I want to live.”
“If it really were that person, would you be able to go through with it?” Xiahou Zhong stared intently at Lian Qiguang without blinking, as if trying to detect the slightest hint of a different expression on his face.
“Do you believe now that I’m Lord Darklight, the one you’ve idolized since childhood?”
“……” Xiahou Zhong
“I used to idolize you, but now I feel like my faith has been shattered. ” Xiahou Zhong, who had grown somewhat accustomed to Lian Qiguang’s provocations, spoke with a touch of sarcasm.
“Regardless, I am your savior—and the savior of your entire family.” Lian Qiguang stared blankly at Xiahou Zhong. “Over the decades of the apocalypse, I’ve undertaken countless missions and traveled to innumerable bases. Countless times when zombies besieged cities, I led my men to provide reinforcements. Since your Xiahou family managed to survive, you must have had some capabilities three thousand years ago—otherwise, you wouldn’t have survived, let alone boarded a spaceship to leave Earth.”
“Tell me your ancestor’s name. Since he had some ability and status, I might even have encountered him during the apocalypse.”
Xiahou Zhong’s face darkened slightly. “Are you just trying to find a roundabout way of saying you’re one of my ancestors?”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said, looking at Xiahou Zhong earnestly. “I just want to say that if I’d known things would turn out like this, I definitely would have looked out for your ancestor a lot more during the apocalypse.”
“……” Xiahou Zhong
“I’m hungry,” Lian Qiguang said suddenly as he stood up.
“Give me a shout when we’re ready to leave. I’m going to grab a bite to eat now.” Lian Qiguang glanced at Xiahou Zhong, then turned to leave.
“Wait a minute.” Just as Lian Qiguang’s hand touched the doorknob, Xiahou Zhong called out to him.
“Is there something else, Grandpa?”
Grandpa…
Xiahou Zhong twitched his lips, feeling his face grow stiff.
Meeting Lian Qiguang’s inquiring gaze, Xiahou Zhong remained silent for a long moment. Then he stood up, slowly raised his right hand, and solemnly saluted.
“Marshal Xiahou Zhong of Blue Star, on behalf of all surviving humanity, I salute you, Lord Darklight!”
“……” Lian Qiguang