Episode (6): Oblivion

Outside the temple, blades flashed and swords clashed in a whirlwind of violence.

Ye Min and his companions were surrounded by Liu Wu’s gang. Liu Wu and his men, seasoned by years of wandering and brawling, were no strangers to martial arts, but they were still a notch beneath Ye Min. Unlike them, Ye Min’s skills were not just the result of daily practice, but born of a unique constitution and a ruthlessness honed and fused in battles of life and death. Not to mention the elite fighters he had brought from the Xiao family—every one of them trained day and night, all veterans of high-level missions.

Liu Wu’s men, in contrast, were nothing more than bullies—cowards who preyed on the weak. Ye Min, anxious over Xiao Jiu’s safety, had exhausted the last shred of patience during the days and nights spent rushing to this ancient temple. His bloodshot eyes narrowed; when he struck, he held nothing back.

Liu Wu barely managed to block Ye Min’s attack. Panic gripped him—he almost dropped his broadsword. Glancing at his weapon hand, he was shocked to see a layer of frost forming on his arm, and his dread deepened.

Yet, despite his fear, Liu Wu’s blade did not cease its dance. When that mysterious expert sought him out, he’d been given poisoned darts. If he couldn’t win in the open, then he’d resort to stealth. A malicious glint flashed in Liu Wu’s eyes. No matter how strong this boy’s martial arts were, what mattered if he was poisoned?

Oblivious to Liu Wu’s schemes, Ye Min sought only to end things quickly. Seizing the moment when Liu Wu hesitated, Ye Min’s sword flashed—a fatal thrust to the throat. Liu Wu didn’t even have time to reach for his hidden weapon before he collapsed, clutching his bleeding neck, his broadsword clattering to the ground. He stared, wide-eyed, at Ye Min’s dust-covered shoes, disbelief frozen on his face.

Ye Min’s expression was icy and impassive. Sword in hand, he strode past Liu Wu, who began to freeze from his wound outward, locked in his kneeling posture until his entire body shattered, dissolving into a pool of water—erased from existence.

In a corner, Xiao Jiu witnessed everything. He huddled against the wall, sweat beading on his brow, his legs trembling uncontrollably. How could this be? How could this happen? That wasn’t his Ah Ye—not at all!

Mozhu, watching Xiao Jiu’s reaction, felt his own vexation twisted into delight. He roughly lifted Xiao Jiu’s chin, forcing him to look in Ye Min’s direction. “Do you see?” he laughed. “This is Ye Min’s true nature!”

Tears streamed down Xiao Jiu’s face, unstoppable. The figure before him—once filled with gentle affection—now wielded his sword with lethal intent, slaying all who barred his path. The warmth had vanished, replaced by an aura of slaughter; he had become a death-dealing, lifeless asura, striding, step by unwavering step, toward Xiao Jiu.

Xiao Jiu shook his head desperately. Expression draining from his face, he slumped against the wall, unmoving, simply watching Ye Min draw ever closer.

Rain began to fall, soft and relentless.

Mozhu’s brows furrowed. He glanced at Xiao Jiu, abandoned like a rag doll, then at Ye Min, who was about to enter the temple. With a cold snort, he vanished into the intensifying downpour.

The icy rain beat down on Xiao Jiu’s shivering body. His parched lips parted unconsciously as he swallowed the drops that landed in his mouth.

At last, Ye Min dispatched the last of his foes and entered the temple. In the corner, plainly visible, was Xiao Jiu—beside him, the mutilated corpse of a boy his own age. Blood mingled with rainwater, flowing from the temple, leaving devastation in its wake. The heavy stench of blood hung undissipated in the air, and as Ye Min met Xiao Jiu’s cold gaze, it felt as though he were standing in another, living hell.

Ye Min’s sword hand trembled. He hastily sheathed his blade and strode quickly to Xiao Jiu’s side, removing the cloth from his mouth and untying the ropes binding him. Where the coarse ropes had chafed, Xiao Jiu’s delicate skin was bruised and mottled; his cheeks were flushed. Reaching to feel his forehead, Ye Min’s hand was suddenly slapped aside as Xiao Jiu shouted, “Don’t touch me!”

Ye Min was stunned, his lashes quivering, lips pressed tight. The heat of Xiao Jiu’s hand burned into his heart, yet could not thaw the chill that gripped him.

He stood dazed, like a condemned man awaiting execution, rainwater and tears mingling as they traced his blank features. Coming to his senses, he stripped off his outer garment, wrapped Xiao Jiu in it, and lifted him into his arms.

Xiao Jiu broke down, sobbing and struggling, pounding Ye Min’s chest. Ye Min managed a bitter smile and let him be. Suddenly, Xiao Jiu grabbed Ye Min’s hand and bit down viciously on his wrist, drawing blood. Staring at the crimson flow, Xiao Jiu screamed in anguish, “You’re not my Ah Ye! Give him back—give me back my Ah Ye!”

Ye Min carried Xiao Jiu out of the temple. The bandits were all dealt with. Ye Min’s men, seeing the wound on his wrist, were alarmed. One began, “Ye—”

But Ye Min’s icy glare silenced him. Exhausted by his outburst, Xiao Jiu fainted in Ye Min’s arms. Ye Min’s voice was hoarse as he asked, “How far is the town where Mr. Lin is staying?”

“Not far,” came the reply. “On horseback, less than a quarter of an hour.”

Without another word, Ye Min mounted his horse and rode off. The others quickly followed.

At the Xiao household, Xiao Muran was pacing anxiously in the study, sweat beading on his brow. After receiving Ye Min’s message, he’d wanted to set out immediately, but was stopped by Xiao Xian.

“Father, why are you holding me back? That’s your own grandson!” Xiao Muran exclaimed, desperation etched in his voice.

Xiao Xian slammed his fist on the table, splitting the wood. Veins bulged on his hand as he shouted, “You think I’m not worried? That’s the direct bloodline of our Xiao clan! My own grandson! But that man is not someone our humble Xiao family can cross. If we make a misstep, doom will befall us all!”

Xiao Muran was stunned. “Father, what are you talking about? What’s really going on?”

Xiao Xian sighed heavily, collecting himself. “No more questions. Given his relationship with our family, Xiao Jiu will come to no harm.”

When Ye Min arrived at the inn where Mr. Lin was staying, he immediately settled Xiao Jiu in a clean, tidy room, changed his clothes, and used his inner energy to dry his hair. Mr. Lin, the Xiao family’s physician, hurried over. “Where is the young master? Let me see him, quickly!”

Mr. Lin had treated every member of the Xiao family, his medical skills beyond reproach. Entering the room, he saw the unconscious Xiao Jiu lying on the bed, his face full of pain. Setting down his medicine chest, he took Xiao Jiu’s hand from beneath the covers; the heat of the fever startled him, but he placed his hand back to check the pulse.

Ye Min’s gaze never left Mr. Lin’s face. “How is Xiao Jiu?”

Mr. Lin opened his box, withdrew his silver needles, and began placing them in the appropriate acupoints. “The young master is still a child. Exhausted, thirsty, and hungry for days, then soaked by the rain—his fever is unbroken, his pulse chaotic, his spirit unsettled. If not treated in time, his body and mind may be permanently damaged.”

Ye Min’s voice was urgent. “Mr. Lin!”

But Mr. Lin, noticing the blood on Ye Min’s robes, reassured, “With me here, the young master will recover. But you—how is your hand?”

“It’s just a flesh wound. I’ll be fine.”

Mr. Lin pressed in another needle. Suddenly, Xiao Jiu’s eyes flew open. At the sight of Ye Min, his body trembled. He scrambled to escape, mumbling, “Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me! Where’s Ah Ye? Where is he? I’m scared!”

Fearing the needles might shift, Mr. Lin called, “Ye Min, don’t just stand there—help me!”

Ye Min took a hesitant step forward, but Xiao Jiu’s struggles only intensified. Breaking free, he snatched up a wooden pillow and hurled it at Ye Min. The crude pillow, bristling with splinters, struck Ye Min’s face, leaving a bloody gash. Yet Ye Min only laughed, a sound steeped in sorrow.

Xiao Jiu’s hysteria grew. “Get out! Get out! You’re not Ah Ye! You’re a monster! A monster!”

Though Mr. Lin did not know the full story, he grasped the situation. With a sigh, he said, “Young Master Ye, please step outside. Only then can I properly treat the young master.”

Ye Min, clothes still damp, nodded and left, standing silently at the door. He knew he was beyond redemption—what right had he to hope for anything more?

Though obsessed with medicine, Mr. Lin was not ignorant of everything. Xiao Jiu was the only one who had ever grown close to Ye Min. After five years together, Ye Min’s devotion to Xiao Jiu was well-known. Things had come to this—Ye Min must be suffering immeasurably.

Gazing at the delirious child on the bed, Mr. Lin could only sigh at fate’s cruelty.

Days later, Xiao Jiu’s health improved enough to withstand the journey. Ye Min ordered their departure, donning a mask to conceal his face.

At last, Xiao Jiu returned home to the Xiao family; Ye Min withdrew to his own quarters. Mr. Lin had warned him to avoid appearing before Xiao Jiu, lest the boy recall those horrors.

When Lady Xiao heard of her son’s return, she rushed to his room, where Xiao Jiu lay playing with a pig-faced mask. She embraced him, tears in her voice, “Jiu’er, you’re home—my precious Jiu’er is finally home!”

She hastily examined him, searching for injuries. Seeing the bruises on his limbs, her heart ached.

“Mother, it hurts…” Xiao Jiu whimpered.

Lady Xiao immediately gentled her touch and called out, “Mr. Lin! Mr. Lin!”

Xiao Muran, hearing Lady Xiao’s cries, hurried in. Mr. Lin, who had just dozed off in the next room, leapt up in alarm and joined them.

“Is the young master unwell?” Mr. Lin asked anxiously.

Xiao Muran added, “Is Xiao Jiu alright?”

Lifting Xiao Jiu’s wrist, Lady Xiao saw the fading bruises. “How did this happen? Where is Ye Min? What happened to our Xiao Jiu?”

Xiao Jiu looked puzzled, tugging at his mother’s sleeve. “Mother, who is Ye Min?”

Both Lady Xiao and Xiao Muran were stunned. What was going on?

Mr. Lin let out a long sigh. “No more questions. If you must ask, go ask someone else.”