Chapter 68

Chapter 68

The next morning, as the first hint of blue-grey dawn light appeared, his companions came knocking on his cabin door, laden with their belongings.

After shouting several times with no response and finding the wooden door locked, they assumed he had left first. But turning around, they saw Xie Zhigui stepping out from the neighboring wooden building, hair disheveled, wearing Ming Feiyu's blood-red coat, approaching them with a few steps, leaning on the railing, yawning with sleepy eyes.

"Good morning."

His lethargic appearance suggested a night of poor sleep.

The expressions on their faces turned spectacularly animated, "Good morning, my foot!!"

They rushed to the next building and dragged Xie Zhigui down from the wooden structure, treading lightly to avoid waking Ming Feiyu, not relaxing until they reached the edge of the village and confirmed no one had spotted them.

"What are you doing?" Xie Zhigui struggled, "Put me down."

They set him firmly on the ground, and before he could speak, a friend, with a look of disdain, ripped the coat off him as if he smelled something, leaned in close, sniffed, "What's this fragrance on you?"

"..." How should he explain that it was Ming Feiyu’s scent, the scent of a beast?

Better not to tell, they would surely explode with the knowledge.

"It’s the scent of the mosquito repellent used by the villagers."

His friend eyed him skeptically.

Regardless of the others’ probing gazes, Xie Zhigui snatched back his coat and put it on again; it was quite chilly in the early morning, and he had come out with too few clothes on, shivering several times.

"You..." His friend looked him up and down, hesitated, "How come you're coming out of Ming Feiyu's room? And I recall you weren't wearing these clothes yesterday."

Xie Zhigui adjusted the coat, replying calmly: "My room was infested with bugs, it was too late to bother you all, so I just spent the night at Ming Feiyu’s, and incidentally changed into these clothes."

Upon hearing this, his friend immediately became agitated: "But you shouldn't just go to his place! He has ulterior motives for you, that's a wolf's den! How could you naively knock on his door!"

He had already concocted a tragic tale in his mind, where an innocent little lamb, blinded by love and naiveté, ignores the advice of a good friend and walks straight into the wolf's den, to be shorn of all wool, wailing miserably throughout the night, and ultimately devoured bit by bit until nothing remains.

The friend lamented with profound regret, "It's our fault. We should have insisted you stayed and slept with us last night."

Xie Zhigui saw his wild guesses and, with a sense of resignation, explained, "He slept on the floor; I slept on the bed. Nothing happened between us."

"Really?" The friend was skeptical.

Xie Zhigui: "Believe it or not."

The friend squinted, pointing to the speckled skin above Xie Zhigui's collarbone, "Then what's all this about?"

Xie Zhigui's gaze drifted for a moment, cursing someone in his heart but without a blush, he blurted out, "Insect bites."

"What kind of insect bites so viciously? Look, they're everywhere!"

Such nonsense, he wasn't blind after all.

Seeing that they were about to start arguing again, others hurried over to mediate, "Alright, that's enough, let's get moving. Once the villagers wake up, we won't be able to leave."

The friend, reminded of the urgency, temporarily dropped the questioning of Xie Zhigui and followed the others to make haste.

After a few steps, they sensed someone was missing; turning back, they saw Xie Zhigui still standing there, staring blankly at the wooden building.

Frustrated as if trying to forge steel from iron, the friend went back, forcefully dragged Xie Zhigui away while cursing under his breath, "What are you staring at? That twice-married scum isn't worth it. You must be out of your mind; we'll get you to a hospital to check your head once we're back."

Xie Zhigui realized this fellow was quite the nag, reminiscent indeed of his sister.

"I'm not sick."

"…Fine, yeah, you're not sick. You're the picture of health," the friend said, too weary to argue.

“……”

Anyway, he was now utterly convinced that Xie Zhigui, his future brother-in-law, had to be brainwashed or manipulated by PUA techniques. Otherwise, besides Ming Feiyu's handsome face, he couldn't see anything that would captivate this cold-hearted brother-in-law.

Unless Xie Zhigui truly had a taste for the peculiar, was that his type?

Tsk, impossible, absolutely impossible.

The friend cleared the clutter from his mind and focused on the path ahead.

While their entry was fraught with difficulties, their exit was surprisingly smooth.

In less than an hour, they reached the boundary marker that signified the entrance to the mountain.

"We're out! We've finally made it out!"

His companions ran excitedly towards it, the friend let go of his grip and joined the jubilant throng ahead.

Xie Zhigui trailed behind at a leisurely pace, his expression serene, smiling as he watched each of them cross the boundary marker, feeling no further need to follow.

He stood just half a meter from the boundary stone, watching as the figures of his companions disappeared down the broad mountain path, this time unnoticed by anyone, with no one looking back.

This marker signified the boundary between the Misty Mountains and the outside world, as well as the divide between the realm of the living and the domain of the dead.

His friends would not remember the events that transpired within the Misty Mountains; if he did not step over the boundary, they would never recall the existence of a person named Xie Zhigui in their lives.

He could only escort them this far; Ming Feiyu was coming.

In truth, Xie Zhigui knew he had been followed all along, now just waiting for him to turn around, Ming Feiyu would lead him back to their home.

Xie Zhigui gazed long at the road leading to the human world, an ordinary path he might never have the chance to tread again; he wanted to take a closer look.

The sun had risen, its morning light illuminating the mottled inscriptions on the stone, the thick moss, the faded cinnabar, and the few incense sticks in front of the stone that hadn't completely burned, covered with a thick layer of ash.

The scene before him slowly overlapped with that of his first steps into this land a long time ago.

——

"Number 43, it's your turn."

"Xie Zhigui?"

"Xie Zhigui, wake up."

With the nurse's gentle shaking, Xie Zhigui slowly opened his eyes, a pungent smell of disinfectant lingering in his nose, the hospital's cold white tiles coming into view, reflecting a young but exceedingly pale face.

He had been ill, quite severely and for a long time, which had ravaged him considerably, leaving his frame frail and weak. The nurse was careful not to push too hard; just moments ago, while he slept, his breathing had been so faint it was nearly undetectable, almost frightening the nurse enough to call for an emergency doctor.

"Are you feeling alright?" the nurse asked cautiously, observing his complexion.

Xie Zhigui nodded and smiled at her in gratitude, picked up the medical file bag from the chair beside him, and walked into the consultation room.

"Please take a seat."

"Hand me the CT scans of your whole body," the doctor requested without looking up.

Xie Zhigui pulled out a large envelope from his medical bag and handed it over.

He was a familiar face in this consultation room, brought here by his mother and sister when he was a child, and later, coming alone.

The paper medical records alone were a stack about seven to eight centimeters thick, chronicling every struggle for survival from his first to his twenty-first year, all to no avail.

Most people facing an incurable disease with no hope for a cure would give up after five or six years; Xie Zhigui had endured twenty years of fear of death and the agony of illness, and yet he remained emotionally stable, without a breakdown, his will far exceeding that of the majority of humanity.

But what of it? Death doesn't spare anyone for their strong will—it has a way of seeking out those who refuse to succumb to it.

This doctor was highly competent, having treated him for five years, yet he could not determine the cause of his illness, which was incredibly frustrating.

After examining the scans, Xie Zhigui saw the doctor's frown and knew the situation remained unchanged.

Not good, but not worsening either.

Bound by professional ethics and consultation protocols, the doctor had to say things he wished he didn't: "Your illness is quite peculiar; we simply cannot pinpoint the cause."

Xie Zhigui nodded out of habit; he had heard this opening remark hundreds of times before.

"Please speak, doctor. I can take it."

"Well, I've never seen anything like it, neither here nor abroad. Many of your organs are failing rapidly, but the imaging doesn't correlate, and we—dozens of doctors—have been nearly going blind trying to find a lesion. Your blood tests and pathogen screenings come back normal, no viruses either. You've been coming here for five years; even the most difficult cases should have been diagnosed by now, but yours..."

"Hmm," Xie Zhigui murmured, his head bowed slightly.

This was supposed to be his last visit here; he had given up, as even the strongest warrior could endure no longer.

The doctor exhaled deeply, handing back the scans, "To put it bluntly, if I weren't a doctor, if I didn't believe in materialism, I'd really think you were possessed by a ghost, because none of what's happening to you can be explained by science."

Xie Zhigui looked up and said, "You needn't blame yourself or feel guilty. I know you've done your best, and I know that some illnesses are intractable, and that not being able to cure them is not your fault. I'm tired too."

The doctor fell silent.

In the quiet, Xie Zhigui packed his things and stood up.

The doctor, looking at the young man not much older than his own son, couldn't help but feel compassion and offered, "Don't be so quick to give up, there might still be hope."

Xie Zhigui, however, offered a smile of resignation and gave the doctor a deep bow.

"I've signed an agreement to donate my body for research after I pass. If you can find the cause, perhaps it will help save more people like me in the future. I'm deeply grateful for the twenty years of care from you and your mentors."

"Hey," the doctor stood, attempting to comfort him, "don't talk like that."

Xie Zhigui slowly backed towards the door, leaving with a parting remark, "If there's a chance, see you again."

He then turned and walked out, gently closing the door behind him.

It was nearing evening, most people had left for dinner, and the corridor was quiet. Xie Zhigui walked at an even pace, behind him came a sigh from the consultation room—a sigh of utter helplessness and profound sadness.

Fortunately, he was now able to remain calm and composed.

Passing the nurse's station, he deliberately greeted a nurse who often took care of him, expressing his sincere thanks and blessings. The nurse understood, embraced him with a look of mixed emotions—pity, sympathy, sorrow.

At the elevator, Xie Zhigui heard sighs coming from the nurse's station, one after another.

"So young, and only a year left to live."

"Why do I often see him coming for treatment alone, where are his parents?"

"His parents are divorced; neither wanted him, considering his illness was a burden. He used to have a sister who accompanied him, but reportedly she became too busy to spare time, so he had to come alone."

"He probably won't come back after this. I really don't understand why his parents had him if they weren't going to care for him, just left him to suffer for over twenty years."

"Ah, such a tough life for this kid."

Xie Zhigui listened without a ripple in his heart, idly thinking how many sighs he had heard that day.

Ding-dong—the elevator arrived.

Xie Zhigui stepped in, pressed the button for the first floor, and the elevator doors slowly closed.

The perpetual white light of hope that shone year-round in the hospital was now being squeezed into a thin sliver by the closing door, diminishing before his eyes.

As the elevator began its descent, the last thread of light vanished too.