Chapter 376: The Guileless Grin

Zheng Fan brought Fan Li back to his temporary residence.

The exterior framework of the Count Pingye Residence had already been completed, but the interior still needed extensive work. Rockeries, flowing-water features, and other decorations required time and careful craftsmanship, while the hidden passages, underground rooms, and similar structures demanded even more effort. So Zheng Fan had not moved in yet.

This temporary residence was divided into a front and rear compound. Madam Ke had originally lived in the rear compound, in a room right beside Zheng Fan’s. But after Siniang arrived, Madam Ke had naturally been moved to the front.

After war, displacement, and all the suffering she had endured, Madam Ke understood perfectly well that Zheng Fan was the man she needed to hold on to—the true pillar upon which the rest of her life depended. Unfortunately for her, from the first day she met Siniang, she also understood something else with equal clarity:

She was no match for that woman.

A woman’s instincts could be remarkably sharp. Madam Ke therefore lowered herself without hesitation. Whatever Siniang said was law, and Madam Ke continued playing the role of a humble household servant.

When Zheng Fan entered with Fan Li, Madam Ke personally served them hot tea. She wanted to linger and attend upon them, but after estimating that Siniang would probably return soon, she lowered her head and quietly went back to her room.

Count Zheng sat down, lifted the tea bowl, skimmed aside the leaves, and blew across the rim.

“What is it? Speak.”

Fan Li took out a folded packet of paper and offered it to Zheng Fan.

“Master, mix this into the tea and drink it.”

“What is it?”

“A tonic.”

Zheng Fan shook his head.

“Not taking it.”

For one thing, no man was going to admit in front of someone else that he needed “supplementing” in that particular department.

For another, Count Zheng had genuinely been traumatized by the Demon Kings’ habit of offering him medicine.

The last time Xue San had pulled something like this, Zheng Fan had nearly died of pain inside a medicinal bath.

Granted, the treatment had ultimately proven effective. The stimulation had caused his qi and blood to surge, helping him complete the “primitive accumulation” from Seventh Grade to the peak of Seventh Grade much faster.

But he had also come within a hair’s breadth of dementia, stroke, and paralysis.

Put simply, Zheng Fan would almost rather trust one of those old Chinese doctors advertising on telephone poles in his previous life. A fraud with enough experience might not actually cure you, but at least he usually knew how to prescribe something that would not kill you.

The medicines the Demon Kings considered worth using?

Every damned one of them was the sort of savage tiger-and-wolf drug that could kill a horse.

Fan Li gave his usual guileless grin.

“Master, this one’s safe.”

He remained insistent.

“I’m not taking it.”

Count Zheng remained equally firm.

Fan Li nodded and pursed his lips.

“What is it you actually came to say? Hurry up.”

Zheng Fan took another two mouthfuls of tea.

He had never liked tea scalding hot. Since arriving in this world, he had gained plenty of opportunities to enjoy luxuries, but in many ways his preferences had become simpler rather than more elaborate.

Tea, to Zheng Fan, was mainly for quenching thirst.

So the servants had long learned his habits. When brewing tea for him, they mixed in a little cooled boiled water until it was hot without being scalding.

Fan Li quietly said:

“Master, before you came back, I already poured the medicine into the earthenware jar in the kitchen where they keep the cooled water.”

Zheng Fan’s gaze sharpened.

Instinctively, he began circulating the qi and blood inside his body.

That only made matters worse.

The instant his qi and blood moved, his head became dizzy and light. His entire body felt as though it were floating off the ground.

He staggered and collapsed backward into the chair.

“Fan Li, what the hell are you doing?”

Fan Li silently stood.

Fan Li silently pulled the axe from behind his waist.

Fan Li silently raised the axe.

Fan Li silently walked over to Zheng Fan.

Fan Li silently swung it down.

Zheng Fan watched this entire series of silent movements with a face—and heart—full of absurdity and confusion.

Then his vision began to spin.

And spin.

And spin.

And spin.

Until finally it dropped to the ground.

*Pa!*

...

*Pa!*

The sound was sharp.

His eardrums hurt.

Zheng Fan opened his eyes and found a boy beside him being ground into the earth beneath a large man’s boot.

The ground was yellow dirt. Not particularly hard, but certainly nowhere near soft.

The boy’s face had been crushed sideways against it, deforming under the pressure. His lips had split open and begun to bleed.

Then an iron collar was fastened around the boy’s neck.

A chain ran from the back of the collar.

The large man lifted the chain and walked away.

Zheng Fan’s gaze followed him.

He watched the man hook the chain onto a huge hollow metal sphere. More than ten other chains were already attached to it. Following those chains outward, Zheng Fan saw more than ten boys, each with the same iron collar locked around his neck.

Behind the sphere stood something resembling a chariot, though the design was absurdly ostentatious.

From the instinctive perspective of a general, Zheng Fan’s immediate judgment was that such a vehicle would be far too cumbersome for a real battlefield.

“Master, it’s fastened.”

The large man spoke respectfully.

“They keep dying every damned day, and then we have to replace them. Aren’t you sick of it? I am.”

A richly dressed young noble climbed onto the chariot, complaining irritably.

The large man hurriedly apologized.

“Master, there’s no helping it. The raw slaves we’ve bought these past few years aren’t like the old ones. Their bodies are getting worse and worse. They simply don’t last.”

“Forget it, forget it.”

The noble youth grabbed the reins before him and yanked backward.

The giant sphere scraped against the ground.

Every boy attached to it grimaced in pain as the iron collars tightened.

“Go!”

More than ten boys began running on all fours.

The noble youth’s “carriage” quickly picked up speed behind them.

From where Zheng Fan stood, the entire scene looked like more than a dozen dogs harnessed to pull a sled.

What surprised him was the strange perspective.

It felt like watching a film.

He remained fixed in a third-person viewpoint.

This was not an illusion.

The purpose of an illusion was to deceive you.

To deceive you properly, it first needed to let you move freely inside it, so you would gradually immerse yourself and blur the boundary between reality and falsehood.

This was different.

From the very beginning, Zheng Fan knew perfectly well where he stood.

He was the audience.

Not an actor.

The scene darkened.

Heavy rain began pouring down.

In front of Zheng Fan stood a crude shelter resembling a dog kennel. More than a dozen children huddled together inside.

They were cold.

They were hungry.

Yet because of the darkness, Zheng Fan could see that their eyes reflected a faint yellow glow.

It did not look like malnutrition.

It looked more like shining a flashlight into a cat’s pupils at night.

A steward-looking man approached carrying a feeding basin. He threw down something resembling pig slop.

The basin hit the ground and spilled more than half its contents.

The children immediately lunged forward like rabid dogs, fighting over the food scattered across the dirt and whatever remained inside the bowl.

Zheng Fan wanted to sit down and watch slowly.

He discovered that he could not move at all.

Standing through an entire film was tiring.

By now, however, some understanding had begun to dawn upon him.

He even started actively searching through the children, trying to identify which one might be Fan Li.

Unfortunately, he could not.

Fan Li should have been among them, but none of the children possessed any distinctive feature that made him stand out.

And the “camera” refused to emphasize anyone.

After eating, the children curled together again and went to sleep.

The scene darkened once more.

Even Zheng Fan’s side of things was forcibly “lights out.”

Fortunately, the darkness did not last long.

A whip cracked.

The sound tore open the darkness and dragged light back into the world.

“Woooooo—!”

A war horn sounded.

Count Zheng jolted.

For one instant, he thought he had awakened and an enemy attack had begun—perhaps the savages had returned, or perhaps the Chu had come.

But after looking more closely, he realized he was still inside the dream.

The boys from earlier were gone.

Now, in front of him stood a line of bare-chested adult men holding crude weapons.

They occupied the front rank of an army formation.

One thing had not changed.

Iron collars still circled their necks.

Shackles still hung from their bodies.

These were soldiers made from slaves.

Slave troops.

By Zheng Fan’s current understanding, they ranked even lower than penal soldiers.

The cheapest cannon fodder at the absolute bottom.

To Zheng Fan’s frustration, the scene was once again nothing but a distant wide shot.

He still could not tell where Fan Li was standing.

If there were a “director” controlling these images, then that director was an absolute amateur with no understanding of camera language.

No focus.

No hierarchy.

No progression.

Under those circumstances the war began.

A boring war.

No tactical sophistication.

Nothing except slaughter.

Kill.

Kill.

Kill.

For Count Zheng, who had grown accustomed to the “artistry” of warfare, this sort of fighting was painfully crude and dull.

The camera still refused to combine broad and close perspectives.

He remained trapped in the distant shot.

But as time passed, and as fewer and fewer people on either side remained standing, Zheng Fan’s gaze gradually locked onto one man.

Tall.

Massive.

A huge axe in his hands.

Almost unstoppable.

Amid the battlefield carpeted with corpses, the man became increasingly conspicuous.

Fan Li?

Was that Fan Li?

Still no close-up.

Zheng Fan wanted to curse.

Eventually, the enemy collapsed.

The giant man raised his axe and roared, venting whatever emotion was inside him.

Then, the scene cut.

And the transition was so violently abrupt that Zheng Fan’s old professional instincts practically developed obsessive-compulsive symptoms.

One moment there had been a corpse-strewn battlefield.

The next, there was singing, dancing, wine pools, and a banquet dripping with sensual excess.

No eagle flying toward the horizon to create a smooth visual transition.

No column of battlefield smoke rising into the sky as a poetic bridge.

Nothing.

Just a brutally clumsy edit.

A forced scene change with absolutely no preparation.

This time, however he finally got a close-up.

Unfortunately, that close-up made him even more furious.

Yes.

Correct.

It was Fan Li.

It really was Fan Li.

But what kind of cursed close-up was this?

Zheng Fan’s viewpoint was less than four inches from Fan Li’s face.

Fan Li was eating.

Devouring meat with enormous bites.

Chewing.

Chewing.

Chewing.

Grease and scraps of flesh seemed to fly directly into Zheng Fan’s face.

That enormous maw.

Those thick cheeks constantly twisting as he chewed.

Those huge, profoundly unaesthetic front teeth.

The sight murdered all appetite.

Worse, Zheng Fan could hear sweet feminine voices and decadent music all around him. There were even all kinds of sounds capable of inspiring very improper imagination.

How to describe the feeling?

It was a little like those old Hong Kong and Taiwan “Category II-plus-one” films from years ago.

Soft focus.

A faint hint of artistic atmosphere.

Primitive desire dressed up just enough to claim it had elevated the theme.

But if that was the mood then why the hell was the camera giving him a close-up of Fan Li?

Was he supposed to sit here and watch the bastard eat meat?

And eat meat?

And keep eating meat?

Zheng Fan saw Fan Li’s face all the time.

Whenever he wanted to look at it, it was right there.

So why, right now, was he being forced to stare at it?!

By Zheng Fan’s estimate, he watched Fan Li eat for nearly half an hour.

Yes.

For nearly half an hour, he remained less than four inches from Fan Li’s face while the man devoured every kind of meat imaginable.

Eat.

Eat.

Eat.

Eat.

Without comparison there was no suffering.

With enough comparison, this particular experience absolutely qualified as torture.

Finally—

Fan Li stopped eating.

At the same time, the decadent music and feminine voices gradually faded.

Zheng Fan’s viewpoint finally pulled away and rose high enough to overlook part of the palace hall.

He caught only the retreating figures of a group of beautiful women dressed in strange and alluring clothing.

Then Zheng Fan saw a man wearing a golden crown laughing as he approached Fan Li. Behind him, an attendant carried a magnificent suit of armor and presented it to Fan Li.

The moment Fan Li saw the armor, that same guileless grin appeared on his face.

By now, Zheng Fan was sick of looking at Fan Li, so he focused instead on the golden-crowned man.

Slowly, something clicked.

This was the same noble youth from the very first scene—the one who had harnessed boys like sled dogs.

He had simply grown older.

By this point, Zheng Fan understood what he was watching.

These were probably Fan Li’s memories.

And yet, strictly speaking, these memories should never have existed.

Xu Qiang’s comic centered on Fan Li had not been successful. The main series itself had not run very long before being axed.

Prequels?

Sequels?

Those were the sort of things people created afterward to squeeze nostalgia-money out of a successful original.

If the original never became popular, who would bother producing prequels and sequels?

Which meant these were truly Fan Li’s own memories.

Fan Li himself had been “completed.”

These Demon Kings born from comics had crossed worlds together with Zheng Fan.

Long ago, they had already stopped being flat figures printed upon comic pages.

They had become living people.

A person had to possess a past.

A present.

A future.

A person sensed the world around him, affected his surroundings, and was affected by them in return.

As Zheng Fan contemplated this, the scenes began flipping by quickly like pages in an account book.

The broad meaning was simple:

Because of his military achievements, Fan Li escaped slave status and began fighting campaign after campaign for his master.

That should have been a huge cathartic payoff.

Unfortunately, the same problem remained.

The director still had no idea how to satisfy the audience and chose to fast-forward through everything.

Zheng Fan did not dwell upon it.

Instead, he sank into a private argument with himself.

The Demon Kings could change.

Because they were people.

If one temporarily ignored the mysterious bond between Zheng Fan and them—a bond no one had ever managed to prove and nobody dared test too aggressively—then any of these Demon Kings, scattered into this world, could easily have gone on to live an entirely independent life.

They no longer needed to remain trapped inside the molds of their comics.

In truth, comics had always been too small a medium.

Too limited in both images and length.

Even the life of an ordinary person was almost impossible to depict completely.

Much less the lives of these Demon Kings.

“AAAAAAAH!”

A scream suddenly tore Zheng Fan out of his thoughts.

Before him appeared another giant metal sphere.

Exactly the same kind as the one from the beginning.

Numerous chains were fastened to it.

At the end of those chains stood a group of richly dressed men and women.

Among them was the golden-crowned nobleman.

And now, sitting on the “carriage” behind them was Fan Li.

His enormous body occupied the seat.

The reins rested in his hands.

When he pulled them, the iron collars around those people’s necks tightened.

Dozens of princes and nobles released strangled cries and were forced to strain with all their strength to pull the carriage forward.

Fan Li sat above them.

His status had reversed completely.

Yet the guileless grin remained on his face.

One prince after another died beneath that smile.

Their deaths did not affect Fan Li in the slightest.

Eventually only that same nobleman remained alive.

Fan Li finally climbed down from the carriage.

Axe in hand he walked toward the man.

The noble could no longer speak.

He could only look at Fan Li with pleading eyes.

Fan Li kept smiling.

No speech.

No grand declaration.

The axe fell.

From that moment onward, the scenes became a succession of killing.

Fan Li killed.

And killed.

And killed.

So many people.

The targets changed.

The number of victims changed.

Only one thing never changed:

Whenever Fan Li raised his axe and hacked people apart as casually as splitting firewood, that simple, honest smile remained fixed on his face.

As though all those countless axe strokes were nothing more than chopping scallions, ginger, and garlic.

Layered together, the images carried an extraordinary impact.

Almost suffocating.

Far more disturbing than watching some masked killer—or a man whose face obviously screamed villain—commit the same acts.

You could not feel Fan Li’s “evil.”

Because perhaps from the time he was a boy whether dragging a carriage on all fours or curled inside a dog kennel he had always shown the world that same guileless grin.

It was not a disguise.

It was simply his nature.

Contradictory.

Torn.

Yet somehow, inside Fan Li, those contradictions had truly fused into one whole.

Was he stupid?

He truly was.

He truly was stupid.

But was he?

...

“I climbed that mountain and saw the Daoists in the temple torturing a cat. I thought the cat’s cries sounded pitiful, so I took my axe and chopped everyone in the temple to death.

“Then I saw the cat was suffering from its injuries too, so I killed the cat as well.

“I went to that basin and saw a woman being buried alive. I thought burying someone alive wasn’t right. They buried her too deep. I thought burying only half of her would look better.

“So I dug the woman back out.

“The people burying her found me. A whole group of horse bandits tried to kill me, so I killed all of them.

“The woman said she was willing to become an ox or horse in her next life to repay my kindness.

“I said all right.

“So I sent her to her next life.”

The narration continued slowly.

Dull.

Flat.

Heavy.

Without emotion.

Without color.

Zheng Fan slowly opened his eyes.

Fan Li sat below him.

Zheng Fan himself was still seated in the high-backed chair at the head of the room.

His head felt swollen.

Almost like a hangover.

Unpleasant.

Fan Li was still talking.

Still telling his story.

Zheng Fan quietly listened while his mind gradually recovered.

Only now did he truly understand.

The scenes that had formed inside his head earlier came directly from Fan Li’s narration.

Because of the drug, Zheng Fan had fallen into a half-hypnotized state, and Fan Li’s words had forcibly transformed themselves into an immersive experience.

That also explained why the “camera work” and “plot” had been so bleak and boring.

The entire story had been built from the rambling self-narration of this idiot.

Fan Li simply did not possess the storytelling ability required to make a tale exciting.

And clearly, that half-hour banquet of endless eating had remained exceptionally vivid in Fan Li’s memory, which was why he had emphasized it so heavily.

One could imagine that while Zheng Fan spent half an hour staring at Fan Li’s face and watching him devour meat in the vision, the real Fan Li was probably sitting there saying:

“That day in the palace, I ate... and I ate... and I ate... and I ate... and I ate...”

At last, Fan Li seemed to notice Zheng Fan was awake.

He scratched his head somewhat bashfully.

“Master, you’re awake?”

Zheng Fan blinked and forced himself upright with both arms until his posture looked slightly more dignified.

“Why did you drug me?”

It was a pointless question.

But one he absolutely had to ask.

Fan Li kept scratching his head.

“My mouth is clumsy. I thought this way would make it easier for Master to understand.”

“I really thank you.”

The drug had probably come from Xue San.

Given the relationship among the Demon Kings, borrowing odd things from one another was easy enough.

Besides, Xue San often requested blood from the others for his experiments, so exchanges of strange materials happened all the time.

Judging by how the drug felt, it was probably something used during interrogation.

A sort of knockout or mind-fogging powder.

“Master, is your body all right?” Fan Li asked with genuine concern.

Zheng Fan looked at him.

At this moment, he very much wanted to draw a blade and leave several holes in the bastard.

“Why did you do this?”

“My mouth is clumsy. I thought telling you what’s in my heart like this would be easier—”

“Why did you want to tell me what is in your heart?”

Fan Li froze.

He took half a step backward.

The guileless grin returned to his face.

“Master, you’re my Master. If I don’t tell you what’s in my heart, who else am I supposed to tell?”

Translated into plain language, the meaning was roughly:

*You’re my dad. If I don’t screw over Dad, who am I supposed to screw over?*

Count Zheng nearly choked from anger.

Before he could speak, Fan Li continued.

“Master, nobody knows my past.

“Those things— only I knew.

“I wanted to tell you.”

Combined with Fan Li’s sincere expression, the words landed hard.

Even when you knew perfectly well that the bastard’s “true nature” was nowhere near as pure and harmless as that face suggested you still felt moved.

Because Fan Li was telling the truth.

His past had never existed in the comic.

Perhaps even Xu Qiang, the author, had never properly imagined it.

Comics often depended on grabbing the reader immediately. You could not spend endless chapters slowly laying out a character’s entire life from infancy onward.

Readers would not have the patience.

So Fan Li’s past the “things in his heart” was truly unique.

Only Fan Li himself had known it.

And now, Zheng Fan was the second.

Weakly, Zheng Fan raised one hand and pointed at his own neck.

“Would you chop me?”

Fan Li froze again.

Then nodded with complete honesty.

“Master, there were lots of times in the past when I wanted to chop off your dog head.”

“...”

Zheng Fan.

The room fell into a strange silence.

Truth was often the thing that hurt most.

“Then why didn’t you?” Zheng Fan asked.

“Because I was afraid that if I chopped Master down, I’d disappear too.”

“Oh.”

Zheng Fan nodded.

That was... extremely logical.

“But Master, I don’t want to chop you anymore,” Fan Li said.

“Why not?”

“Because I think Master keeps becoming more interesting.”

“Interesting?”

“Yeah. Master is getting more and more fun. At the beginning, Master was stupid and dull. Worse than dry firewood.”

Being called stupid by Fan Li was a double critical hit.

“The Blind Man and the others say Master has been slowly improving and transforming.

“But I don’t think so.”

“Then what do you think?”

“I think Master is just tearing away layer after layer of bark and showing what was underneath the whole time.

“Master was always an interesting person.”

Every person was interesting.

Because when every person was still an infant every person was adorable.

But as people grew older, most gradually became less and less interesting.

They wrapped themselves, layer by layer, in dry elm bark.

Zheng Fan thought the metaphor was surprisingly good.

He was not entirely certain Fan Li had intended it as a metaphor.

The idiot did not seem to possess enough literary culture for that.

Fan Li stepped closer.

Then dropped to one knee before Zheng Fan.

“Master.”

“Mm?”

“Truthfully, I was never especially grateful that Master continued drawing my story.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t feel anything.”

Because that comic had been boring in the first place.

That was the opinion of the comic’s own protagonist.

If a life was dull, why should he be grateful merely because someone extended it?

“But Master, now I think following you— standing behind you seeing more scenery eating more delicious things that is all very interesting.

“My old life was just walking here and killing people.

“Then walking somewhere else and killing people.”

“Did you get tired of killing?”

“No.

“Killing people is so interesting. How could anyone get tired of it?

“If someone got tired of killing people, would he still count as human?”

“...”

Zheng Fan.

“But Master, you make me feel like I can do more interesting things.

“So...”

Fan Li lowered his forehead all the way to the floor tiles.

His voice became completely sincere.

“I, Fan Li, am willing to follow Master.

“To see more scenery.

“To stand before Master.

“To block blades and sword-light for Master.”

A faint smile appeared at the corner of Zheng Fan’s mouth.

He asked:

“And if one day I become less interesting?”

“Then I’ll chop you.”

“Hahahahaha—cough, cough, cough...”

Zheng Fan laughed too hard.

Combined with the lingering weakness from the drug, it immediately turned into coughing.

Even while coughing, he extended one hand.

Fan Li obediently shuffled forward on his knees so Zheng Fan could rest that hand on his shoulder.

“Fan Li.”

“Yeah?”

“If one day I become boring, could you just fuck off by yourself instead of killing me?”

Fan Li fell into thought.

Slowly that familiar honest grin appeared again.

“No.

“If I leave Master, and someone else chops Master down, I’ll probably die too.

“Might as well chop you myself and at least know exactly how I died.”

“You motherfucker, you’re a logical genius!”

Zheng Fan lifted one foot and kicked Fan Li in the chest.

Fan Li did not move.

Zheng Fan fell out of the chair.

*Thud!*

“Hiss...”

That hurt.

His teeth had cut his lip.

It was humiliating.

Truly humiliating.

He was a Sixth Grade Martial Artist now.

Out in the jianghu, that was not weak at all.

He could count as a minor expert.

And yet his own subordinate had drugged him flat.

Fan Li hesitated.

Then leaned backward.

A moment later—

*Bang.*

He deliberately fell onto the floor.

“Master’s kick is really strong.”

Zheng Fan lay on the floor and shouted weakly:

“Get the hell out.”

“Yes, Master.”

Fan Li scrambled up and left the hall.

Outside in the courtyard, Madam Ke had been waiting near the side room the entire time. When she saw Fan Li leave—and realized Siniang still had not returned—she decided to enter and see whether Count Zheng needed anything.

Perhaps supper.

Perhaps more tea.

But the instant she entered and found Count Zheng lying on the floor, she nearly screamed from fright.

“Guards! Someone has comm—”

“Shut up.”

Madam Ke immediately closed her mouth.

Truthfully, she could hardly be blamed.

From her position, seeing a scene like this, her first instinct was naturally that Fan Li had attempted to seize power, rebel against his superior, and attack Count Zheng.

“Help me up.”

Madam Ke hurried forward and supported him.

“Count, are you all right? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.

“Help me to bed.”

“Yes, Count.”

Meanwhile, Fan Li reached the courtyard and stopped.

He spread both arms.

A strand of golden light suddenly circulated through his eyes.

At the same time, the muscles across his entire body began producing a series of faint rubbing noises, as though his flesh were undergoing another round of reorganization.

A long time passed.

Fan Li lowered his arms.

The guileless grin returned to his face.

Then he walked out of the residence.

He had not gone far before a small figure darted across a nearby roof, spotted him, and dropped immediately to the street.

Who else could it be but Xue San?

“Fan Li! There you are. Come on, we’ve been looking for you.”

Fan Li nodded and followed.

As they walked, Xue San explained:

“We’re going to draw lots in a little while. You know what the Blind Man is like. That bastard is quietly rotten to the core. If he’s present when we draw, he’ll definitely rig it.

“So we’ve decided to give you the most important job of all.

“For the sake of fairness and justice, you’re going to watch the Blind Man.

“Take him over to the south gate and keep him there. After we finish drawing, you bring him back.

“Understand?”

Fan Li nodded.

“Got it.”

“Good. Then let’s hurry.

“I’ve been looking for you forever. They’re probably getting impatient already.

“Everyone has work piled up, so let’s not waste time.

“Come on.

“Run!”

Xue San accelerated.

Fan Li accelerated too.

While running, Xue San said:

“Fan Li, this situation isn’t simple.

“Master advanced, but none of us reacted at all. Even Siniang and the Demon Child couldn’t do anything.

“But don’t worry. We’ll definitely find the right method.

“When we do, we won’t leave you behind. We’ll bring you along and help you advance too.”

Then Xue San accelerated again.

“All right,” Fan Li answered.

Xue San glanced sideways at him.

“Where were you earlier?”

“Moving things for Master.”

“I mean before that.

“We actually looked for you while we were holding the meeting, but couldn’t find you.

“So we went ahead without you.”

“All right. Got it.

“Before that I was outside the city watching the slaves repair the wall.”

“Haaah.

“Everyone’s busy.”

Xue San accelerated again.

Then he turned his head toward Fan Li.

“This time we all need to work together. The sooner we figure out the real method, the sooner we can—”

Xue San suddenly stopped talking.

He was running.

Fan Li was running.

Xue San had accelerated several times.

He was already moving at full speed.

And yet Fan Li was still right beside him.

All Xue San had to do was turn his head and he could still see Fan Li.

Still speak to him.

Originally, Xue San had not wanted to explain too much.

His plan had been to sprint ahead, eliminating the need to explain why everyone had held a meeting without inviting Fan Li.

But why was the bastard still running shoulder-to-shoulder with him?

!!!

“FUCK!”

Xue San shouted.

His wrists flicked.

Two daggers slid into his palms.

Without hesitation, he stabbed directly toward Fan Li.

The guileless grin remained on Fan Li’s face.

Faced with Xue San’s sudden attack, he did not dodge at all.

He rammed straight into him.

*Bang!*

Golden light erupted from Fan Li’s body.

And with it came terrifying impact force.

Xue San’s pupils contracted.

All three of his legs tensed at once as he retreated at top speed, immediately abandoning the ambush.

He understood perfectly well that even if both daggers pierced Fan Li—and even if the blades carried poison—neither those wounds nor that amount of toxin would be enough to kill the giant.

But if Xue San’s tiny body took one direct collision from Fan Li?

He would probably suffer comminuted fractures across half his skeleton.

Terrible deal.

Completely uneconomical.

Besides, he had never intended to kill Fan Li in the first place.

Unexpectedly, as Xue San retreated—

Fan Li followed.

One giant hand closed around Xue San’s ankle.

Xue San was caught like a bullfrog.

Then Fan Li began swinging his arm.

“FUCK!”

Xue San screamed.

Fan Li suddenly came to his senses.

He did not complete the full sequence by smashing Xue San into the ground.

Instead, after half a rotation, he stopped his arm and released him.

Xue San spiraled through the air and crashed directly into the neighboring residence.

*Bang!*

Judging by the sound he had probably shattered a water vat.

“WHO THE HELL IS THAT?!”

The owner of the residence roared from inside.

Then his tone changed almost instantly.

“Oh! Mr. Xue! Are you... practicing?”

Snow Sea Pass contained plenty of important figures.

But very few were this short and this physically distinctive.

Xue San was easy to recognize.

Difficult to impersonate too.

Before long, a blood-covered Xue San stormed out through the front gate and returned to Fan Li.

Hands on hips he craned his neck upward, apparently trying to inspect Fan Li from head to toe.

Then, Xue San stepped backward three times.

Fan Li was too tall.

From that close, even bending his neck all the way back was not enough to see the top of him.

Once the distance and angle were suitable, Xue San planted his hands on his hips again and slowly looked Fan Li over from head to toe.

“Well, well.

“Didn’t see that coming.

“Fan Li, you hid it damned well.”

Everyone else was still holding meetings.

Everyone else had deliberately excluded Fan Li because they were afraid he would say something stupid.

And while they were all convinced Fan Li was the idiot the bastard had quietly gone to Master and leveled up first!

Fan Li kept smiling.

He reached back and scratched the rear of his head.

Xue San remained furious.

Then, instantly, his expression transformed into passionate warmth.

“Fan Li?”

“Mm?”

“Little Li-Li?”

“What?”

“Brother Li?”

“What do you want?”

“Daddy Li!”

Xue San suddenly rushed forward, wrapped both arms around Fan Li’s knee, and began wailing.

“Daddy! Take pity on me!

“I want to advance too!

“I want to level up too!”

Faced with the fruit of increased strength dignity?

Never heard of it.

Fan Li continued scratching his head.

“I don’t know what happened either.

“I came out of Master’s residence and I had advanced.”

Xue San heard this and slowly lifted his head.

He stared pitifully at Fan Li’s stomach.

“Reason tells me you’re lying.

“Emotion makes me want to believe you.”

“I...”

“What did you and Master do inside?”

“I gave Master the knockout drug I got from you.”

Xue San’s mouth fell open.

“You’re not lying?”

Feeding Master knockout powder made you advance?

“I swear I’m not lying.”

“Tsk...”

Xue San patted Fan Li’s knee.

Then stepped backward three paces.

A smile he believed looked equally guileless appeared on his face.

He scratched the back of his head.

“You’re fucking with me.”

Fan Li froze.

Then shook his head.

“You didn’t do anything else?” Xue San asked.

Fan Li thought for a moment.

“Master asked whether I wanted to chop him.”

“And what did you answer?”

“I said I did.”

“Hiss...”

Xue San sucked in a breath.

Then he immediately said:

“Swear on your own bloodline that you didn’t lie to me.”

“I swear.”

Then it had to be true!

“So the Blind Man and the others all guessed wrong.

“This time, if we want to advance, we have to assassinate Master.

“Make Master afraid.

“Make him panic.

“And under that emotional stimulation, the bond between us deepens?”

Xue San immediately sank into intense self-analysis.

Given the oath upon Fan Li’s own bloodline, Xue San did not believe the giant had lied.

Very quickly enlightenment appeared on Xue San’s face.

Based on the evidence available, he had figured it out.

He muttered excitedly:

“That’s it.

“A bond works both ways.

“The way to deepen a bond doesn’t only include mutual trust and admiration.

“It also includes hatred.

“Like a beast tamer and the animal beneath his whip.

“In the past, we kept licking Master to level up.

“But after being licked so many times, Master developed immunity. We licked calluses onto him.

“So now— we need to reverse the method.

“Scare Master.

“Terrify him.

“Strengthen the emotional connection between us.

“And then I’ll advance.

“Hehehe...

“I’m a fucking genius!”

————

[End of Chapter 376]