The mountain path, typically a quiet ascent, felt different today, imbued with a lingering tension. Guozhao Zhiqiang, his steps light despite his recent injury, sensed Deming lingering behind, his presence heavy with unspoken emotion. He paused, turning, his gaze soft with concern. "What's wrong, Deming?" he asked, his voice a gentle inquiry.
Deming's shoulders, already slumped with a burden of guilt, shook with a fresh wave of silent tears. "I'm sorry, Zhiqiang," he choked out, his voice thick with sorrow, raw with self-reproach. "I didn't listen to you. If I had, you wouldn't be hurt. It's my fault."
Guozhao Zhiqiang closed the distance between them, his heart aching at the sight of Deming's pain, his own wounds forgotten. His right hand reached out, tenderly cupping Deming's left cheek, wiping away a tear. "I can be hurt a thousand times because of you," he murmured, his eyes locking onto Deming's, filled with an unspoken promise, a profound love, "but I won't let you be hurt once because of me. Never. Come on. Let's go home. I'm hungry."
Deming's tears, unbidden, streamed down his face, a silent testament to the fear he held so close, the terror of losing Guozhao Zhiqiang. He looked up at Guozhao Zhiqiang, his vision blurred, and then, with a desperate need for comfort, he threw his arms around him, holding on tightly, burying his face in Guozhao Zhiqiang's shoulder. "Zhiqiang, I'm scared," he sobbed, a raw, vulnerable confession, his body trembling. "I'm really scared." Deep down, the words he truly wanted to scream were: 'Zhiqiang, I'm afraid of going to sleep at night, not knowing if I will wake up the following morning, if this body will betray me.'
Guozhao Zhiqiang's hand moved to the back of Deming's head, stroking his hair lightly, a reassuring presence, a silent promise. "I will always be by your side, Deming," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm. "Don't be afraid. I won't let anything happen to you."
A watery smile touched Deming's lips, a fragile light breaking through his sorrow. He finally released Guozhao Zhiqiang, his fingers intertwining with Guozhao Zhiqiang's left hand, a silent bond. As they began their ascent up the mountain, a playful spark returned to Deming's eyes, a hint of his old self. "I'll cook tonight," he declared, a small defiance in his voice, a challenge. "I don't like your cooking. It's bland."
Guozhao Zhiqiang chuckled softly, a warm, genuine sound that filled Deming's heart, a rare display of mirth. "Hmm..." he mused, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. "I wonder what you are going to cook for me today..."
Later, the warm scent of cooked vegetables filled the cozy space of Guozhao Zhiqiang's home on Peach Blossom Mountain. Deming carefully placed the last dish on the table, then settled opposite Guozhao Zhiqiang, a proud smile on his face.
Guozhao Zhiqiang's gaze swept over the array of food, a slow smile spreading across his face. It smelled absolutely delicious, a comforting aroma. He had envisioned this moment, cooking and eating together in his home, over and over in his heart for thirteen long, agonizing years, and now, finally, it was real, a dream come true.
Deming looked up, a teasing glint in his eye. "Why don't you eat? Will looking at me fill up your stomach?" He picked up a piece of vegetable, placing it in his own bowl. "Tomorrow, I'll cook you some meat, since you love it so much."
Guozhao Zhiqiang's smile deepened, a playful glint in his eyes. "If you want to eat meat, why not cook some meat tonight?"
Deming's smile turned mischievous, a knowing look. "Today is the fifteenth day of the month," he reminded him, referring to the traditional day for vegetarian meals, a custom Guozhao Zhiqiang usually observed strictly.
Guozhao Zhiqiang's eyes widened slightly in mock surprise, a soft chuckle escaping him. "I forgot," he admitted, a rare lapse.
He took a bite, chewing slowly, savoring each mouthful. He couldn't be sure if Deming's food was truly that delicious, or if he was simply ravenous from the day's events, or if it was the sheer joy of sharing a meal at home with Deming by his side, a dream realized. Whatever the reason, tonight's dinner tasted exquisitely, uniquely delicious, the best meal he had ever tasted.
"The dishes taste very good," Guozhao Zhiqiang genuinely praised, his voice warm.
"When I woke up, I realized I had to learn how to do these things for myself," Deming explained, a touch of melancholy in his voice, remembering his helplessness. "I couldn't have done it without Li Bingqing's help. She taught me everything—from reading, writing, cooking, cleaning, and mending my clothes. She was my teacher."
Guozhao Zhiqiang smiled, his eyes warm, a playful glint appearing. "Then I should thank her for cultivating you. She's done me a great service."
"Why?" Deming asked, genuinely curious.
"In the future, I will leave all these housework to you," Guozhao Zhiqiang declared with a playful grin, "and you will have to mend my clothes for me. You're so skilled now."
Deming gasped in mock outrage, picking up his chopsticks and pointing them playfully at Guozhao Zhiqiang. "Oh, I'm not as good as Senior Sister Yang, Zhiqiang! She's a master seamstress!" he teased.
"True," Guozhao Zhiqiang replied, feigning seriousness. "If you don't want to do these things, I can always ask her. She'd be happy to."
"You dare?!" Deming shrieked, chopsticks still aimed, his playful anger clear, a possessive edge to his voice.
"Just kidding," Guozhao Zhiqiang laughed, shaking his head, his eyes twinkling. "It's not too late though. Can you help me clean the room after dinner?"
"For what?" Deming asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice, curious about the sudden request.
"For Gen and his family," Guozhao Zhiqiang explained. "I want Gen to rest. I don't want to let the help of Ah Bao and Xiaomei go to waste. They need a safe place."
Deming frowned, a memory surfacing of an earlier promise. "I thought no spirit or demon could come up here, Zhiqiang. Isn't this mountain protected?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
Guozhao Zhiqiang clarified, "Peach Blossom Valley is protected, and no spirit or demon can enter."
"So as long as Gen and his family don't enter Peach Blossom Valley, they'll be okay?" Deming mused aloud. He then suddenly remembered something from the past—Guozhao Zhiqiang had once intended to tattoo a protection magic circle on him. He looked intently at Guozhao Zhiqiang. "Zhiqiang, is your protecting symbol still on your chest?"
Guozhao Zhiqiang moved his robe aside, revealing the intricate protective circle clearly visible on his left chest, glowing faintly. "This symbol here, is still here."
Deming's expression shifted to one of playful complaint, a hint of longing. "Someone once promised me he would tattoo one on me, but that never happened. I don't know if this is a good time to bring up that promise again..."
Guozhao Zhiqiang smiled sheepishly, a rare blush on his cheeks. "I'm not sure if I can make one for you, Deming. I have to ask Shan for confirmation first. It's a complex art."
Deming nodded, then his gaze, full of curiosity, swept over the room. "How come there are three bedrooms here? I only expected one."
"The other two rooms are for Chuntao and other juniors," Guozhao Zhiqiang explained simply.
Deming's eyes narrowed, a sudden spark of something akin to jealousy in their depths, his voice carefully neutral. "So, Senior Sister Yang often sleeps here? In your house?"
"Hmm," Guozhao Zhiqiang hummed, still eating, seemingly oblivious.
"You let her come whenever she wants?" Deming pressed, his tone tightening, a possessive edge.
"Hmm," Guozhao Zhiqiang confirmed, taking another bite, enjoying the reaction.
"Why?" Deming demanded, his anger now clear, his chopsticks aimed like daggers.
Guozhao Zhiqiang looked up, met Deming's angry gaze, and then, a slow smile spread across his face, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "She is also my junior. Like the others."
Deming picked up his
chopsticks again, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Really?" he drawled, his voice thick with sarcasm, his anger barely contained.
Guozhao Zhiqiang teased, his eyes twinkling, "You're not thinking about poking my eyes with those chopsticks, are you, my love? You tried that earlier today."
"Who knows?" Deming replied, the sarcasm still present, a playful threat.
Guozhao Zhiqiang shook his head, a mixture of amusement and affection filling him, and the two continued their meal, the unspoken tension adding a playful spice to the evening, a new dynamic to their relationship.
The next day dawned, bright and promising. Guozhao Zhiqiang and Deming returned, their arms laden with freshly picked peaches, their faces serene. They found Gen, Wan, Zemin, and Nianzu already gathered with Yang Bao and Tam Qiu, the air buzzing with quiet anticipation, a sense of new beginnings.
"You're here," Guozhao Zhiqiang greeted them warmly, a welcoming smile.
"I asked Gen to wait for a few more days, Senior Brother," Yang Bao explained, "but he insisted on coming today. He's eager to start his new life."
Gen, looking far more robust than the day before, stood up, his face radiating relief and profound happiness. "Boss, I feel much better. I can walk now! I didn't expect to ever walk again, but thanks to Doctor Yang and Lady Xiao, today I'm able to walk! You saved my life, and my legs!"
"Ah Bao, when will he fully recover?" Guozhao Zhiqiang asked, his concern evident.
"In two days, Senior Brother," Yang Bao replied. "Gen, if you have cramps, it's normal. Also, you have to remember that you can't kneel for two months. This is the best I can do for now."
Gen smiled, a profound happiness in his eyes, bowing deeply. "I am very happy with what you have done, Doctor Yang. If you ever need something that is not within my ability, I am willing to do it. Anything you ask."
"I just need you to protect those who need help, Gen," Yang Bao responded, his voice gentle but firm. "Don't use your power to kill innocent people. Use it for good."
"Doctor Yang," Gen affirmed, his gaze steady, "I promised, as long as I'm still alive, I will not kill a single innocent person. My word is my bond."
"Don't call me Doctor Yang, Gen," Yang Bao sighed, a hint of frustration. "Call me Ah Bao, I'm younger than you. It's more informal."
"I can't do that, Childe Yang," Gen insisted, shaking his head respectfully. "You saved me; I can't call you by your first name. It would be disrespectful."
"It's Senior Brother who saved you, not me," Yang Bao argued, trying to deflect the praise.
"Boss saved my life, you saved my leg," Gen countered respectfully, his gaze unwavering. "If you don't ask me to call you Doctor Yang, I will call you Childe Yang. Please accept it, Doctor Yang."
"Childe Yang, don't argue anymore," Wan interjected with a serene smile, her voice soft. "This is the right thing to do. Accept his gratitude."
Lee Nianzu nodded in agreement. "Second Senior Brother, if you refuse, you will ruin his good intentions. Just accept it."
Yang Bao finally relented, letting out a defeated sigh, a small smile on his face. "Okay, I will accept the term Doctor Yang, but not Childe Yang. That's my compromise."
Guozhao Zhiqiang turned to Gen and Wan. "There are two rooms in total; you can choose which room to live in. Make yourselves at home."
"Senior Brother," Yang Bao announced, his voice hinting at something important, "Masters and Shimu are leaving now. They're on their way."
"Gen, you stay here," Guozhao Zhiqiang instructed. "I'll go see my Masters and Shimu off. I'll be right back."
On the dirt road leading out of Cloud City, a somber scene unfolded. The hunters stood, a silent vigil, watching helplessly as their beloved Masters, Shimu, the two Xiao sisters, and Lang Lirun walked away, slowly fading into the distance, their forms growing smaller.
"Grandfather, be careful on the way home and pay attention to your safety!" Lim Junjie's voice, brimming with heartfelt concern, carried across the air, a youthful cry.
Lang Lirun looked back, offering a warm wave to Lim Junjie, then quickly caught up with the two clan leaders, disappearing from view, a final farewell.
"Only babies cry!" Zheng Tingfeng mocked, a dramatic roll of his eyes, though his own eyes were a little misty. "You cry more than Nianzu, Junjie!"
"Wait for your turn, Tingfeng!" Lim Junjie retorted, though his voice still trembled, a sniffle escaping him.
Guozhao Zhiqiang lightly patted Lim Junjie's head. "Okay, don't cry, Junjie," he soothed, his voice gentle. "What will Uncle Lin say when he sees you like this? He's gone, and he'll be fine. Nothing will happen to him. Don't cry anymore. Let's go back."
Xiao Mei sighed, a wistful look on her face, her gaze fixed on the disappearing figures. "When will they come back, Senior Brothers?"
"They will come back when they have time, Xiao Mei," Yang Bao reassured her, his voice calm. "Don't be too sad. Just know that the two Masters and Shimu are doing well—that's all that matters. They're safe."
Guozhao Shaquan's voice held a touch of melancholy. "Shimu and the two Masters cannot break the agreement with Jiutian Xuannu. They are bound by it." He paused, then added sadly, "Every time they come back home, they look older... the years take their toll."
"I don't know how many people are like them?" Zheng Yaozu mused, a hint of longing in his voice, a desire for such freedom. "To be able to travel the world freely with your confidants as your heart desires, without a care."
"There are not many fortunate people like them," Tian Xiang said, a philosophical tone entering his voice. "Let's think positively. Although the two Masters and Shimu are not at home, they spend every day together and create the best memories together. That's what truly matters." He chuckled. "If I were them, able to travel freely with my confidants on sunny or rainy days, I wouldn't complain. I'd be ecstatic."
"My father and Teacher Lee are one couple of those fortunate people," Fang Weimin added, a quiet pride in his voice, his gaze distant. "Although their happiness comes with huge sacrifices, the sacrifices are worth it."
"Why, Weimin?" Fang Weisheng asked, genuinely curious, still processing his own family's truths.
"Because they can stand by that person," Fang Weimin explained, his voice firm, "they know that person will never leave them under any circumstances. Their love is unbreakable."
"We all come from different places," Tam Liang said, a deep sense of belonging in his voice, sweeping his gaze over his brothers and sisters, "but because of them, because of the Masters, we are now brothers and sisters. A true family."
"Without them, we would have starved to death in that hidden room," Tam Kun added, his voice soft with gratitude, remembering their past.
"Without them, no one would know what would have happened to us on that mountain trail," Guozhao Zhaohui murmured, his gaze sweeping over Guozhao Zhiqiang, Xiao Mei, and Guozhao Bolin, a silent acknowledgment of their shared past, their collective rescue.
"If they didn't pass through our village that day," Lee Nianzu recalled, his voice tinged with a long-held memory, "I would have been burned to death. They saved me from the flames."
"Without Uncle Baiyu and Zhiqiang, I would never have been born," Lim Junjie piped up, his voice earnest, a profound statement of gratitude.
"I have something to say," Fang Weisheng announced, a new seriousness in his tone, his face resolute.
"What's the matter, Weisheng?" Yang Bao asked, sensing the shift, his gaze kind.
Fang Weisheng sighed, a genuine weight lifted from his shoulders, a profound relief. "I want to apologize for my wrongdoing. To all of you, and to Uncle Lee."
Tam Qiu smiled, her eyes kind, accepting his apology. "Don't rush to a conclusion next time, okay, Weisheng? Think before you speak."
Fang Weisheng nodded, relief flooding his face. "I understand, Sister Ah Qiu. I will."
"They didn't save me from death," Yu Lei admitted, looking around at his siblings, a thoughtful expression, "but I'm glad I became a Guozhao hunter. It's the best thing that ever happened to me." He turned to Yang Bao. "Second Senior Brother, what about you? What did the two Masters and Shimu do for you?"
Yang Bao smiled at his juniors, a gentle deflection in his eyes, his gaze distant. "It's time to go back. I have to go visit Gen and Wan." He put his hands behind his back and limped slowly in front of the other juniors, evading the question, keeping his secrets.
"Wait!" Yu Lei shouted, exasperated. "Don't avoid this question, Second Senior Brother! Tell us!" He turned to Guozhao Zhiqiang. "Senior Brother, do you know what the two Masters and Shimu did for him?"
Guozhao Zhiqiang smiled faintly, a silent guardian of the past. "It's not my place to tell his story," he said simply, his voice gentle but firm. He then slowly followed Yang Bao, making his way back towards Peach Blossom Mountain, a quiet resolve in his stride, leaving the juniors to ponder the unspoken truths.