MOF Chapter 98
by VolareBehind her, the refugees whispered, “Did you hear? That person said he’s going to find us food.”
“Yeah, but I wonder if he can find any.”
“There are so many of us; even if he finds some, it probably won’t be enough.”
“Having even a mouthful would be good.”
“…”
Wei Luo didn’t hear them clearly, but she felt uneasy. She glanced back at the group and sighed silently.
The scorching sun blazed. Wei Luo was wearing a light green Ru skirt, but it was dusty from traveling around. Her fair forehead glistened with a layer of crystalline sweat in the sunlight, which condensed into beads and slowly dripped down.
Her face was like a peach blossom, and her arms were like lotus roots. The refugees’ eyes scanned her up and down.
Wei Luo frowned and glared back forcefully.
The refugees all lowered their heads, staring at the dirt in their hands, but didn’t continue eating.
Someone couldn’t help but swallow, and the sound drew the attention of others, who turned to look.
The person who swallowed stared blankly at Wei Luo, his gaze lingering on the girl’s exposed fair skin.
Wei Luo rubbed her arms, feeling a chill for some reason. She idly played with the dagger Yan Zhan had given her, tapping it against her silver bracelet to pass the time with the crisp sound of their collision.
Behind her, the evil spirits were obliterating human nature. In a place she couldn’t see, they were landing like axes.
The blood-red sunset dyed half the sky crimson. Yan Zhan returned triumphantly with two wild rabbits. He hurried back to the cave, smelling the aroma of cooked meat outside.
Who had found food before him?
A sudden weight settled in Yan Zhan’s heart, for no reason, like a huge stone tied with ropes, descending from the sky and hanging in his chest.
He strode into the cave, the first thing he saw was white smoke.
Smoke billowed continuously from the firewood under the cooking pot. The refugees, who had seemed on the verge of death, were now radiant, constantly adding firewood to the stove.
Yan Zhan wasn’t interested in what they were doing, he just asked, “Where’s Wei Luo?”
No one paid him any attention.
The women and children in the corner had greasy mouths, leaning comfortably against the cave wall, humming melodious tunes, lulling their children to sleep.
The children had something in their mouths, chewing up and down, and on their small, skeletal faces, black eyes stared unblinkingly at him.
The heavy stone in his chest sank lower. Yan Zhan casually dropped the rabbits, slashed the side of the pot with his sword, splitting it open. “I’m asking! Where’s the girl I told you to watch?”
The sword seemed to awaken some reason in the refugees. Some of them looked over, their voices as low as ghosts, “We don’t know, she seems to have gone out by herself. Kids are just playful.”
“Impossible.” Yan Zhan narrowed his eyes, his gaze like a carving knife, inch by inch, carving into their false smiles, tearing the flesh and revealing the hateful original appearance inside.
“She said she wouldn’t run around, so she definitely wouldn’t go out.” Yan Zhan approached step by step, and as he got closer, he lowered his eyes slightly, staring at the red and white chunks in the boiling water.
He frowned and asked, “Where did the water come from?”
Someone stood up proudly, “I found it! Inside the cave, there’s a small puddle, we carried it over little by little.”
The cave had many branches. Yan Zhan stared at him, “Where? Take me there.”
The person stammered, vaguely saying, “It’s inside, the water has all been taken out, there’s nothing else.”
Yan Zhan looked around, suddenly grabbing the person’s collar, the blade of his sword against his neck, “Take me there, hurry.”
The surrounding refugees fell eerily silent.
“It’s understandable that the hero is anxious to find someone. But why use a knife?” SomeoneAdviseed, “It wouldn’t be good if someone got hurt.”
The person was lifted off the ground, his eyes darting left and right, squeezing out a nearly flattering smile, “Hero, don’t be angry, why not eat something to fill your stomach first?”
The other refugees’ eyes changed upon hearing this. Gazes containing different emotions fell on Yan Zhan, making him even more upset.
“What are you looking at?” Yan Zhan pushed the person back and forth, like a small boat floating on the river, “Stop dawdling, hurry up.”
The person led Yan Zhan into the cave, the depths were cold and not humid. But the further they went, the stronger the fishy smell of water became, and there was a messy string of footprints on the ground.
Until Yan Zhan smelled a trace of blood.
His face darkened, and he asked the refugee leading the way, “What’s inside?”
“Water…” The refugee wiped his face, his eyes filled with fear, but upon closer inspection, there was a hint of strange satisfaction deep in his eyes.
Yan Zhan walked in, the narrow passage widened slightly, revealing some pieces of clothing.
The fragments were trampled beyond recognition, but you could faintly see the original pink-green color.
The rope on the stone snapped, and Yan Zhan’s heart was a bloody mess. His vision blurred, he shook his head and incredulously picked up a fragment.
Looking down, he realized that the ground was covered in sticky blood.
His chest was instantly filled with a surging, towering rage. Yan Zhan’s eyes turned red, and driven by anger, he swung his sword and killed the refugee leading the way.
He took his sword out, expecting the refugees to have all fled, but not a single one was missing.
The sun set low, and the evening brought sorrow.
The shadow at the cave entrance was thick, and there were many shadows inside. Pairs of black eyes stared at him through the firelight and faint smoke.
Yan Zhan held the sword with trembling hands and approached the pot step by step. On the surface of the water, meat with bones rolled out a fragrant aroma. His stomach contracted, almost convulsing.
His teeth pierced through the soft flesh of his mouth. Yan Zhan tilted his head and looked at the group of people, “What is this?”
The refugees were silent.
“Eeya.”
The infant in a woman’s arms suddenly cried out, “Eeya, eat—”
The woman patted the infant’s shoulder, lowered her eyes, and gentlycoaxed.
“No one’s going to talk, is that it?” The young man’s face was exquisitely aloof. Usually, when he didn’t smile, the corners of his mouth were slightly raised, always containing a hint of a smile. When he smiled, it was like the morning sun, scattering light like dawn on people.
But now he was like an evil ghost, like a scorpion, with red eyes and bloody lips. His pitch-black eyes were pure, and the firelight couldn’t illuminate the pupils.
Yan Zhan raised his sword and pointed it at them, an action that gave the refugees some sense of reason.
“Hero, please don’t—”
A sword sealed his throat, and blood splattered three feet.
Yan Zhan raised his sword and lowered it, piercing his throat. His face was expressionless, and his sword didn’t stop. The refugees reacted, ignoring the boiling water in the pot, grabbing the leftover meat and bones to gnaw on.
They would rather be full dead ghosts. But before their lips touched the meat, the cold sword had already struck.
The refugees fell silently one after another. The cave was like a ghost den, and the young man killed people like tangled hemp.
Until the last refugee fell, Yan Zhan finally stopped. He kicked away the dead infant at his feet, pulled a piece of firewood from the fire, and went into the cave to pick up Wei Luo’s remains one by one.
Under the light of the fire, a bit of cold light landed in the corner.
Yan Zhan walked over, reaching out to first touch a pool of cold, stagnant blood. He groped to the side and touched a cold, hard object.
A silver bracelet stained with blood, the blood embedded in the simple patterns, slowly blooming.
A tear slid down Yan Zhan’s eye. He exerted force with his hand, and the silver bracelet sank into his palm.
He held Wei Luo’s remaining bones and walked out of the cave. Streams of blood extended outward from the cave entrance, wetting the soles of his shoes.
One bloody footprint after another was etched into the distance under the moonlight.
Until there was no road ahead. But the east was already bright.
Yan Zhan’s whole body was as cold and hard as iron. He walked all night, not knowing where to go or what to do.
Suddenly, he was alone again. The year he had depended on Wei Luo felt like a hurried dream.
But the road ahead of him clearly had no end.
Everywhere was yellow earth; he had to find a grave for Wei Luo.
As the cold sword dug the pit, Yan Zhan remembered that he had dug a grave for Wei Luo’s mother in the same way.
His eyes were sore, and tears fell uncontrollably. Yan Zhan stretched out his legs and sat on the ground, crying bitterly.
It was the first time in his life he had killed someone. His hand was weak, his heart panicked, and his sword was unsteady.
There was so much blood in front of him, splattering on his face, and he tasted a stimulating, bloody taste.
He had killed people, taken revenge, but Wei Luo was already dead.
After burying Wei Luo, Yan Zhan walked forward in a daze, suddenly kicking something. He didn’t want to look, but the thing emitted a faint light, making it hard to ignore.
It was a black sword.
The blade was incomparably sharp, the whole body was as black as ink, and dark red cloud patterns were poised to strike. The words “Bu Song” (Don’t Send) could be seen on the hilt. From its color to its material, it was clear that it was a high-quality sword.
Yan Zhan’s heart skipped a beat. The sword’s name was like a sharp arrow, instantly piercing his heart.
The deceased is gone, don’t bother to send them off.
He bent down, wanting to pick up the sword, but as soon as he touched the blade, his arm was shocked, and he felt extremely sore.
Yan Zhan understood that this was probably a sword belonging to some immortal.
It was said that the swords of those who cultivated immortality were loyal and recognized their master’s bloodline. Ordinary people couldn’t use them even if they got their hands on them.
But with that shock, the silver bracelet he had tucked in his arrow sleeve fell out.
The silver bracelet collided with the cold weapon, making a crisp sound. Yan Zhan hadn’t wiped the blood off it, but after a night, the bloodstains were already mottled.
He carefully picked up the silver bracelet, not noticing that the sword’s light shone even brighter for a moment, as if sensing a familiar aura.
“If I can’t use it, it’s just a piece of scrap iron.” Yan Zhan wanted to kick it away, but he felt unwilling, and switched hands to continue holding the sword.
This time, for some reason, the sword didn’t shock him away.
Yan Zhan gripped the sword tightly and hung it on his waist.
When his mother was alive, she hadn’t given him a character name. After his mother died, no one gave him one. Wei Luo had once asked him, and he had replied that he didn’t have a character name.
At that time, Wei Luo looked at the sky and said with a smile, “The first time I saw Brother Yan Zhan, I thought of a sentence, ‘Walking alone, sitting alone, singing alone, responding alone, and sleeping alone,’ truly an unrestrained, unconstrained youth.”
And so, on this night, Yan Wuji (Unrestrained Wild Goose) was born. He erased the “Le” (Joy) from “Le Sheng” (Joyful Life) on the sword and changed it to “Sha” (Kill).
Only by killing everyone in the world can there be joy.
* * *
People cannot be brought back to life, the drought has not ended, and a large number of refugees are still on the run.
Occasionally, when they find a little food, a large-scale scramble breaks out, often ending with bloodshed and death.
Among the refugees, there was a woman who was almost skin and bones, always watching everything that happened before her with sorrowful eyes, not fighting or snatching, living on soft mud.
Among these refugees, there were many faces that the woman used to know. They had received her cotton clothes, drank her porridge, and said that she was blessed with longevity and health.
This woman was Yu Shengxiang, who had fallen to this state because of the drought.
After the drought came, the Yu family thought that the disaster would pass quickly, so they opened their granaries and distributed grain to relieve the people.
Later, when the Yu family had no extra grain, the people they had helped before suddenly complained and surrounded them, shouting for them to open the door.
Their words werefierce, and some even insulted them.
The Yu family naturally couldn’t open the door, and the people even tried to force their way in. Fortunately, the disciples of the immortal sect arrived to stop them and disperse them.
The Yu family ran out of grain and bought rice everywhere, but they couldn’t find a single grain. Master Yu was anxious and couldn’t sleep at night, and unfortunately died suddenly.
Madam Yu held Yu Shengxiang and cried all night, and the next day, she hanged herself, following her husband in death, leaving Yu Shengxiang alone to support the Yu family.
A thousand gold coins couldn’t buy afight of rice. The Yu family’s servants soon fled for their lives, leaving only Nuanyu to accompany Yu Shengxiang.
The two had no choice but to run around with the refugees, abandoning all etiquette and dignity for a little food.
But even so, Nuanyu still starved to death.
She put the remaining half of a steamed bun into Yu Shengxiang’s hand, and her lips moved with difficulty.
Yu Shengxiang saw clearly that it was an unfinished “Miss”.
Even though her heart was aching like a knife, Yu Shengxiang couldn’t squeeze out a single tear.
She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she had drunk a mouthful of water.
Today, while looking for food with the refugees, Yu Shengxiang spotted a piece of bark. She was about to bend down to pick it up when a force from the side crashed into her.
“Get out of the way!” The person cursed, rudely pushing Yu Shengxiang away.
Yu Shengxiang, who hadn’t eaten for a long time, couldn’t withstand the force. Her eyes went dark, and as she fell backward, she instinctively raised her hand to grab something.
Another hand appeared in her hand. Someone wrapped their arm around her back and caught her.
After Yu Shengxiang stabilized herself and her vision cleared, she looked up at the person who had saved her and exclaimed in surprise, “Buyu?”
Buyu nodded. From her appearance, her situation was similar to Yu Shengxiang’s.
Yu Shengxiang smiled faintly and asked, “What are you doing here?”
Buyu looked at her, “I’ve always been here.”