Just when Qiu Limò thought he was about to die, a man appeared.
This man was incredibly powerful. He killed everyone there, and just when Qiu Limò thought that he would kill him too, just as he had killed those people, the man simply left.
When they met again, Qiu Limò was curled up, barely clinging to life in a corner littered with garbage. The man quietly looked at him like that before finally speaking.
“Are you willing to come with me?”
Qiu Limò followed the man out of District Five and went to an even more terrifying place—District Seven.
It was there that he learned the man was not human.
As he watched the man scrutinize him thoughtfully, Qiu Limò remained silent.
He was not afraid of this man, nor was he afraid of death. To Qiu Limò, death was nothing more than two slightly colder words.
The man treated Qiu Limò very well, but Qiu Limò did not like it.
The way the man looked at him was strange, as though he were looking through Qiu Limò at someone else.
It made Qiu Limò feel somewhat sick.
With the man’s help, Qiu Limò awakened a wind-type ability. Although the process was extremely painful, Qiu Limò was still happy. He liked the feeling of power filling his entire body.
Qiu Limò had thought that his days would continue on like this, unchanged.
But by chance, he accidentally entered the man’s room.
Looking at the paintings that filled the entire room, Qiu Limò suddenly felt terribly cold.
Portrait after portrait covered the entire room.
Different poses, different clothes.
But what never changed was that face—that face bearing a seven-tenths resemblance to his own.
Or rather, it was he who resembled the person in the paintings.
Aside from the portraits, the room was lined with all kinds of books.
Qiu Limò knew that he should leave, but the fog that had long lingered in his heart seemed to have suddenly been pierced by a ray of light, compelling him to pick up an ancient, handmade notebook.
With trembling hands, he opened the yellowed pages.
Looking at the figures of himself, one after another, already blurred by the passage of time, Qiu Limò felt nothing but dizziness.
That man’s secret was actually…
When Qiu Limò was caught by the man, he thought he was surely going to die.
But the man did not kill him.
Instead, he stroked Qiu Limò’s face with longing and remembrance, telling him a very, very long story.
Looking at the sorrowful red eyes of the man, Qiu Limò suddenly felt a terrible ache in his chest.
I don’t want to be your son anymore. I want more…
The deliberate avoidance in his heart brought Qiu Limò to District Three.
Qiu Limò had never asked that man for anything before.
This time, however, when he finally spoke, the man did not hesitate and simply nodded.
Life in District Three was peaceful.
It was the kind of peace Qiu Limò had never dared to ask for before.
Yet Qiu Limò was not happy.
His longing for that person grew deeper and deeper.
Qiu Limò knew that he was already beyond salvation.
He had fallen in love with that man.
By chance, he saw a young man being surrounded and attacked in a plaza.
What caught his attention was not the youth’s nimble fighting skills, but the knife in his hand.
Although he had entered the man’s room only once, Qiu Limò clearly remembered that the expressions of the man in the paintings varied, but one thing never changed.
He always held the same black ancient blade in his hand.
Dark-red blossoms were scattered across the sheath, resembling dried blood.
For the first time, Qiu Limò panicked.
And for the first time, he fled in a sorry state.
Selfishly, he did not want to tell that man about this.
But with that man’s informants spread throughout every district, how could he possibly hide it from his eyes?
Watching the man laugh loudly, only to bend over and weep bitterly moments later, Qiu Limò’s heart ached so badly that he could hardly breathe.
The man gave him an order.
He was to approach that young man and protect him—even if it meant using his own life.
The man’s face had become covered in scars because of a breakthrough in his cultivation. He wanted to restore it to its most perfect appearance, then go and see that young man who was more important to him than his own life.
Qiu Limò silently followed the young man.
Silently, he watched the man go from his initial excitement and joy, to sorrow, bitter weeping, despair, and finally madness.
Qiu Limò knew that the man was now walking step by step toward destruction.
Yet faced with the man’s heart-wrenching despair and revenge, all Qiu Limò could do was silently stand behind him, silently watch over him, never leaving him and never abandoning him.
He knew the man’s fate was inevitable.
Yet when he truly watched with his own eyes as the man’s life gradually disappeared, Qiu Limò was in so much pain that he could no longer shed tears.
I can wait for you for a thousand years, ten thousand years. As long as you are still here, no matter how long it takes, I will silently stay by your side. Until you are tired and turn around, you will be able to see that I am here.
You will know that you are not alone.
But if you are gone, I don’t know what meaning there would be in my being alive.
When the sound of the explosion rang out and Qiu Limò fell into darkness in that instant, he smiled.
Qiu Limò, who had not smiled in many years, curved his lips upward. The movement tugged painfully at his heart, yet his face carried a lightness and release he had never shown before.
Wuma Yan, this time, it really is just you and me, isn’t it?
If there is a next life, wait for me. I will definitely find you.
And then, I will fall in love with you all over again.
When he opened his eyes once more, Qiu Limò looked at the ruined, unfamiliar surroundings and felt somewhat panicked.
Where was this?
Where was Wuma Yan…?
The wind blade in his hand cleaved open a zombie’s head.
Qiu Limò calmly extracted the crystal core from inside the zombie’s skull and put it into his pocket.
An endless city stretched before him.
Cold, deserted streets.
Swarming zombies.
A faded poster bore a black year and date in one corner.
On the ground, a battered radio with its speaker crushed inward emitted an ear-piercing crackle.
The cold, numb voice of a man came through the broadcast, reporting the major events of the past month to the survivors.
“The youngest grandson of the person in control of Wolong Base, Wuma Yan, secretly followed a team of ability-user mercenaries to Z City half a month ago. They encountered an accident, and there has been no news of him to this day. The person in control of Wolong Base has issued a mission. If anyone can bring his youngest grandson back, they will certainly…”
Qiu Limò raised his head and looked at the gloomy gray sky, slowly wiping a bloodstained dagger in his hand.
After a long while, Qiu Limò closed his eyes.
Slowly, the corners of his lips curved upward.
A wild, excited smile spread across his face.
A man dressed in a loose black coat moved through the swarms of zombies in the city.
One zombie after another had its head blown apart, piling into horrifying mountains of corpses.
Inside an abandoned police station, a little boy of about six or seven years old, covered in blood and grime, curled up in a dark corner, sobbing quietly.
Suddenly, the tightly closed door was kicked open with tremendous force.
The boy looked up in panic.
On his dirty little face was an expression of terror as he stared at the black-clothed man standing backlit in the doorway, his entire body stained with blood.
The sunlight outlined the man’s figure, painfully bright to the boy’s eyes.
Squinting slightly, the boy warily watched the man’s indistinct features.
Qiu Limò slowly approached the boy.
His boots stepped across the bloodstained floor, producing a faint scraping sound that was especially clear within the small, silent space.
The boy’s body tensed as he stared blankly at Qiu Limò coming to a stop before him.
The oppressive aura and murderous bloodlust radiating from the man made him tremble.
Qiu Limò looked down at the little boy from above.
After remaining silent for a long time, a slender hand, bearing thin calluses, trembled slightly as it extended toward the boy.
“Will you come with me?”
This time, I met you before everyone else.
Will you fall in love with me?
Wuma Yan…