Chapter 184 The End of the Eighth World

Chapter 184: End of the Eighth World

After Lie Hu's death, the battle became a decisive and overwhelming victory for East Town, as if splitting bamboo with unstoppable force.

The morning breeze carried the scent of gunpowder and blood, the ashes of extinguished fires, the glimmer of dawn, and above all, the joy of victory, the unwavering resolve to protect their home, and the fervent passion in their hearts.

All fires had been put out.

Corpses lay everywhere, most concentrated around the defensive line Shen Que had established. The bodies stretched toward the town, a testament to the ferocity with which the invaders had charged—only to fall one by one. The closer to the town, the fewer the corpses.

The body nearest the town was pinned against a wall by an arrow, a stark declaration of the invaders' defeat.

After a night of fierce battle, some sat by piles of corpses, gasping for breath; others stood on the bodies, silently lighting cigarettes with bloodied hands; and some lay sprawled on the ground, watching the sun rise.

They were so utterly exhausted they could no longer feel pain, yet so happy that their weariness felt like a blessing.

Chen Zui leaned against a tilted car, instinctively reaching into his pocket for a cigarette. He found nothing—he had forgotten. Due to his frail constitution, he wasn't supposed to smoke often.

Another person approached.

Shen Que took a drag from his cigarette, then held it to Chen Zui’s lips.

Chen Zui took a puff from Shen Que’s hand, watching the sun, yolk-like, rise slowly in the distance as he exhaled smoke.

Neither spoke. They shared the cigarette, taking turns, their bodies pressed close together, concealing their intertwined hands. The blood staining their palms seemed like red threads binding them.

"Everyone! Food's here!"

Exhausted, people sprawled everywhere turned toward the town entrance. Almost the entire town had come out, save for the elderly and children, bringing food, dishes, cutlery, and water.

Their faces radiated joy and happiness as they rushed forward to serve meals and offer water to anyone they found.

For a moment, the scent of food overwhelmed the smell of blood.

Everyone was starving, and the meal couldn’t have arrived at a more opportune moment.

Without being told, Chen Zui’s students had already taken the initiative to search for the wounded and begin treating them.

"Boss, Doctor Chen, eat!"

Shen Que glanced at the two eager young men bringing food—unfamiliar faces, likely originally from West Town.

He smiled and accepted the heaping bowl of rice.

Chen Zui said, "I can’t eat this much."

Shen Que replied, "It’s fine. I’ll eat what you leave."

After serving the food, everyone began clearing away the corpses. Some kicked the bodies in lingering anger, while others anxiously searched, scanning the people eating. If their family members, lovers, or friends weren’t among them, they could only turn their gaze to the scattered corpses.

In war, death is never one-sided.

When they turned over a body and saw a familiar face, in that moment, even self-deception became impossible. Tears fell silently, each one a deafening blow against their hearts, their knees giving way. Clutching the body, they prayed to feel its warmth once more, only to be met with a coldness that made them tremble uncontrollably.

Victory in war is a cruel, brutal, and immense sacrifice.

The weeping wasn’t loud, but there were many who wept.

It quickly drew everyone’s attention, and the food in their hands no longer tasted delicious, replaced only by the bitterness of tears.

But the living must go on.

All work continued as usual. They choked down food mixed with tears, knowing it was the only way to regain strength and do what needed to be done.

Chen Zui set down his bowl. "Brother Shen, you’ve already done very well."

The unscathed town and fields were proof that his leadership and decisions were sound. He had fought alongside everyone in action.

"You’re just a leader, not a god."

He patted Shen Que’s stiff shoulder and left, offering no further comfort.

Shen Que looked at those who had died in the war, memories of each person flooding his mind—vivid, then fading. They were gone, without even a chance to say goodbye, without a chance to leave last words, without…

He looked up at the sun. Without even a chance to see this beautiful sunrise one last time. Did they know they had won?

Tears beaded on Shen Que’s chin.

Falling were lost lives.

—

In the blink of an eye, a week had passed since that night of battle. The town had returned to its usual state, though a somber atmosphere still lingered under the sky. It would likely take time for people to fully move on.

Chen Zui’s clinic was no longer sufficient; even the adjacent government building had been requisitioned.

It could be said that he was the busiest person after the war. He had clearly lost weight, his jawline grew sharper, especially in the first three days when he seemed to have slept only four or five hours total. Everyone felt for him, but no one could take his place.

Today, Chen Zui could finally rest properly. He walked from the shower to the sink, looking at the stubbled face in the mirror—it looked somewhat unfamiliar.

He didn’t like growing a beard.

As he picked up the razor to shave, the bathroom door opened. Shen Que, busy all day, walked in. Their eyes met in the mirror, and the next second, Shen Que hugged him from behind, saying nothing, just burying his face in Chen Zui’s neck, breathing him in deeply and nuzzling him.

"Going to shave?"

"Yeah."

"I’ll do it for you."

Shen Que lifted his head and looked at Chen Zui in the mirror. Chen Zui was the type of man whose beard grew slowly; after so many days, it was just a hint of stubble, rougher than usual.

He gripped Chen Zui’s lean waist and turned him around.

Like an animal, he pressed his chin against Chen Zui’s stubble, rubbing against it. It was hard and a little prickly.

Shen Que said, "It’s kind of fun."

Chen Zui tilted his chin up, letting him nuzzle. "Fun? Using me as a toy."

Shen Que chuckled and hugged him. "You’re my treasure, my ancestor, my darling."

Strangely, such corny lines didn’t sound so corny coming from him.

Shen Que carefully and meticulously shaved Chen Zui’s stubble clean. After wiping it off, he couldn’t resist biting him. Chen Zui was used to it—ever since they’d gotten together, Shen Que was always touching him, moving him, and kissing him.

Chen Zui: "Go shower first."

He pushed away Shen Que, who was nibbling and trying to kiss him.

Shen Que didn’t want to be apart from him, clinging stubbornly, refusing to let go: "Let me kiss you a little more."

Chen Zui: "If you keep this up, I’ll fuck you."

Shen Que lifted his eyelids to look at him, with a complicated look. After a moment, he released Chen Zui and went to take a shower.

Since confirming their relationship, the two hadn’t done it. In other words, the next time they did it, it wouldn’t be just a therapeutic massage—it would be the real deal.

Love.

Chen Zui glanced at Shen Que, who was soaping himself up. The main reason they hadn’t done it yet was that they were too busy. Of course, he believed there was also a small part of it due to Shen Que’s bold words—though he had made them impulsively, he clearly wasn’t psychologically prepared.

By the time Shen Que came out of the bathroom, Chen Zui was already asleep. After all, he was only human.

Noticing he was asleep, Shen Que moved softly, carefully lying down beside him. Chin in hand, he gazed at Chen Zui’s thinner face and sighed inwardly with guilt—he had promised to fatten him up.

He put his arm down and pulled Chen Zui into an embrace, wrapping around him like an octopus, making Chen Zui seem almost petite. He rested his head against Chen Zui’s.

He sniffed.

Heh heh heh.

Wifey smells so good~

This was Shen Que’s secret: he secretly called Chen Zui “wifey” in his heart.

It always made him feel great.

His hand resting on Chen Zui’s waist absentmindedly patted gently, as if soothing a child. Just holding his "wifey" made him ridiculously happy, and he grinned foolishly, puckering his lips to kiss Chen Zui’s hair.

He adored his wifey so much.

Chen Zui was asleep and unaware, but Ao Tian knew.

Ever since learning about Chen Zui’s connection with him, Ao Tian had acknowledged him as the one and only "sister-in-law." Though personalities varied across worlds, the love for Chen Zui remained the same.

Chen Zui deserved someone who loved him like this.

He was worth it!

—

Autumn harvest kept the town busy, and the joy of the harvest lifted the gloom of the previous days.

Chen Zui, wearing a sun hat, strolled leisurely along the ridge. He was responsible for first aid and didn’t participate in the harvesting.

Shen Que, shirtless, was cutting rice. After days of labor, his skin had darkened even more, glistening with sweat, exuding a rustic sexiness in the rice field.

Liang Yingzhang was cutting another row beside him, wearing long sleeves.

He noticed Shen Que suddenly speeding up and glanced over, frowning. He had never seen anyone strike poses while harvesting rice—the angle of his bend, the motion of cutting, the casual toss of the rice stalks—it all reeked of affectation.

"What are you doing?"

Shen Que: "Harvesting rice."

Liang Yingzhang thought to himself, *You weren’t harvesting like this before.* Earlier, he had worked like an old ox, steadily and diligently.

Shen Que looked toward Chen Zui on the ridge: "Doctor Chen is here."

Liang Yingzhang didn’t get it: "So what? He comes every day."

Shen Que turned to him, pursed his lips, frowned, then shook his head and snorted lightly. *Ah, there’s no common topic with people who don’t have a wifey.*

Liang Yingzhang just thought his expression was incredibly punchable!

Evening

The two came out of the bathroom kissing, having just showered. Shen Que was clearly the more proactive one.

He pinned Chen Zui onto the bed, kissing him passionately.

After a day’s work, with full stomachs and enough drinks, it was time for some relaxation.

Their lips parted to catch their breath, but Shen Que hadn’t had enough of Chen Zui’s scent. He kept his tongue out, playfully teasing Chen Zui’s.

To Chen Zui, it looked provocative, especially with the sight of Shen Que’s arm resting on his shoulder—the well-defined, sturdy bicep with its smooth lines.

It seemed someone was mentally prepared.

He asked knowingly: "Brother Shen, what do you want to do?"

Shen Que misunderstood and replied: "I want to."

Chen Zui blinked.

Shen Que had indeed been preparing himself, but…

*

After so many days without being attended to, he felt both empty and restless. He thought he might have developed another "can’t last a few rounds" syndrome.

He couldn’t take it anymore!

Having been "treated" so many times before, Shen Que was already familiar with the routine. When he made Chen Zui his seat, all the restless elements in his body were satisfied.

The next moment, the world spun.

Shen Que found himself underneath, looking up at Chen Zui, who curled his lips into a smile: "Brother Shen, we haven’t done it face-to-face yet."

Last time, when Shen Que was on top, Xiao Xu had interrupted them.

Chen Zui caressed Shen Que’s cheek: "I want to see every expression of yours."

The words made Shen Que blush, the thought of that scene filling him with shame.

His expression definitely wouldn’t be pretty. He instinctively raised a hand to cover his face.

Chen Zui: "Brother Shen, don’t you want to see every expression of mine?"

With that, Shen Que lowered his hand.

The night was boundless.

In the early hours, Shen Que could be heard murmuring intermittently: "Tomorrow… tomorrow we still have to… harvest rice."

He was suggesting they call it a night for now.

Chen Zui: "I believe in Brother Shen's stamina."

What else could Shen Que say? A real man never admits defeat!

Chen Zui looked at the man who had stopped speaking. He was kneeling there, his body curving into a breathtaking arc, his broad back bearing sunburn marks, with numerous scars marking his body.

His honey-toned thighs were firm with muscle, radiating strength.

This man, drenched in sweat, was now straining to push his hips even higher.

So fucking hot.

Chen Zui bent down close to Shen Que's ear.

"Brother Shen."

"I like you."

This time, Shen Que understood these words of affection.