"Junior Brother Zhou, what are you still standing there for? Let's go!" The burly man with the bushy beard grew impatient and reached out to push the young man.
With a push, the boy fell to the ground.
As he fell, his eyes remained wide open, filled with awe, as if waiting for affirmation, an affirmation that came from being recognized by his master.
The burly man with the bushy beard was jolted awake by the thud when the boy fell to the ground, breaking out in a cold sweat. His outstretched hand was still caught in the chilly autumn wind, which couldn't dry the fine sweat beading on his palm.
"Master, Master..." the burly man with the bushy beard tried to explain, "I only, only used three-tenths of my strength..."
Sect Leader Qi remained silent.
Because he could tell that the boy was dead.
Sect Leader Qi half-squatted down and turned the boy's body, which was lying on the ground, over.
Under the moonlight, a long, narrow bloodstain was clearly visible on the boy's protruding throat. No blood flowed, because the cut was too fast; the blood hadn't had time to drip.
Master Qi took a deep breath, and the cold air rushing in through his teeth chilled him to the bone.
This was the cleanest, most precise cut he had ever seen in his life; it was so fast that it made him feel suffocated.
The burly man with the bushy beard paled in horror when he saw the knife wound on the boy's throat. He began to feel fear, his eyes widening as he strained to see through the darkness around him, as if he could make out something.
The fog thickened, and you could feel the swirling moisture with every breath.
The burly man with the bushy beard felt a tightness in his chest, making it difficult to breathe. He gripped his sword hilt tightly, extremely wary, when suddenly he felt a gust of wind behind his ear. He whirled around, only to find nothing but emptiness before his eyes.
The burly man with the bushy beard blinked hard, still unable to discern anything, so he couldn't help but smirk self-deprecatingly and turn around.
In an instant, he felt a chill in his throat and neck, and a slight pain, as if something had scraped it.
"Master..." He opened his mouth, but found that he couldn't utter the last half word no matter how hard he tried. All he could hear was a "gurgling" sound in his throat.
He couldn't believe it; he couldn't believe he couldn't speak. He clutched his throat, his facial muscles twitching in pain.
Moments later, he collapsed, standing upright like a crumbling iron tower.
Master Qi turned around abruptly and saw the burly man with a bushy beard lying on the ground, his mouth half-open, as if he wanted to say something to him.
The long street was once again deathly silent.
As Master Qi looked at his two disciples who had died instantly, his initial fear was inexplicably calmed down.
He was starting to miss his family, who lived thousands of miles away. Who says that people who live a life of constant danger can't have a stable home?
He has it, so he feels that he has lived a very fulfilling life for most of his life.
If that's enough, then that's sufficient.
So Sect Leader Qi stood up and called out loudly into the thick fog, "Come out."
The words seemed to be swallowed by the heavy night fog. After a long while, a dark figure emerged from the thick fog like a ghost. In the flickering moonlight, the dark figure appeared even more eerie and elusive.
"Who are you?" Master Qi slowly placed his right hand on the hilt of his sword, his eagle eyes fixed on the black silhouette.
No one answered. Because shadows cannot speak.
The moonlight dimmed, and the dark shadow seemed to fade into the distance.
Just as the clouds obscuring the moon were about to dissipate, the dark figure vanished.
Sect Leader Qi abruptly drew his longsword. This was the last time he heard the sound of a sword being drawn, and it made him feel a pang of nostalgia.
Suddenly, a breeze brushed his face, soft and cool, reminding Master Qi of his wife's hand.
He recalled that before he left, his wife gently patted his face and gave him a bunch of instructions that he already knew by heart.
As he pondered this, Sect Leader Qi smiled faintly.
When the sword flashed, the wind howled like ghosts.
The night grew colder.
two,
Cen Ji sat motionless on the large purple wooden chair, letting Dr. Sun remove the gauze covering his eyes.
"Open your eyes and take a look," said Doctor Sun.
Cen Ji frowned and slowly opened his eyes.
The room was dimly lit, but Dr. Sun was still worried that Cen Ji's eyes might be hurt by the sudden sunlight after being blindfolded for so many days.
However, Dr. Sun's worries seem somewhat unnecessary.
Because of the solitude, one can only vaguely see the outline.
"Can you see it?" Dr. Sun asked.
Cen Ji smiled slightly and said, "It's just an outline."
"Oh." Doctor Sun nodded and said, "It seems that at least we can see something, which is better than not being able to see anything at all the other day."
Cen Ji nodded.
Sitting next to Cen Ji, Wen Moyin said, "Doctor Sun, you said that as long as the blood clots in his brain are cleared, Seventh Brother will be able to see again."
Dr. Sun turned around and said, "Miss, Master Cen can already see the light."
Wen Moyin frowned: "You only saw light?"
Dr. Sun said, "It will take some time for my sight to fully recover, but..."
"But what?"
"When Mr. Cen resisted the Soul-Capturing Technique, blood flowed back into his brain. Coupled with his constant anxiety, he had been bedridden for over a month but had not recovered. The other day, Mr. Cen refused to eat for several days and was extremely weak, which caused his old illness to relapse and his condition to worsen."
“Therefore,” Doctor Sun said after a moment’s thought, “it would be best for Master Cen to rest and recuperate these days, and to avoid getting worried.”
Dr. Sun knew that, judging from Cen Ji's pulse, he must have suddenly felt some immense grief, which caused his old illness to relapse. But he didn't say anything, because he knew what should be said and what shouldn't be said.
After hearing this, Wen Moyin said indifferently, "I understand. You may leave."
Doctor Sun bowed slightly to Wen Moyin and Cen Ji before leaving.
“Dr. Sun,” Cen Ji suddenly spoke.
"Does the master have any instructions?" Doctor Sun asked.
Cen Ji turned his head toward the direction of the voice and said slowly, "Don't call me 'Master' anymore."
"This..." Doctor Sun glanced at Wen Moyin, unsure of what to say.
Wen Moyin glanced at Cen Ji, pondered for a moment, and said, "Just do whatever Seventh Brother says."
After Doctor Sun left, Wen Moyin glanced at Cen Ji and saw that his expression was extremely calm. He simply opened his eyes and stared steadily ahead, his eyes still bright.
"Seventh Brother, you really don't need to worry about it..."
“I don’t care,” Cen Ji said calmly. “I just think it’s good to be a bodyguard.”
Wen Moyin said, "But you are different now than before. You have married me and can no longer be a simple bodyguard."
Cen Ji suddenly fell silent.
After a long while, he finally spoke, "Moyin, I want to go back to my old place and rest for a while."
"Does sharing a room with me make you that uncomfortable?" Wen Moyin could no longer hold back and suddenly stood up, shouting at Cen Ji.
Cen Ji looked up at the blurry figure in his vision, his expression as calm as a passing cloud.
"Moyin, a blind man, only feels at peace in the places he knows best."
Wen Moyin was taken aback.
She suddenly had a strange feeling, as if the silence at this moment was not that she couldn't see, but that she could see everything.
Ask your heart
one,
Cen Ji became the loneliest person in the empty mountain ridge.
No one knows who said it. But whoever it was, the news spread faster than a rabbit with wings, and within two days, it had reached every corner of Kongshan Ridge.
Loneliness? As a bodyguard, how can you talk about loneliness?
When He Bi first heard this rumor, he was surprised and amused, and couldn't help but want to make a joke about Cen Ji.
Why did he originally intend to tell Cen Ji, "You're such a pretentious fellow," when he saw him?
But when he saw the silence, he suddenly realized that loneliness was nothing at all.
Before even stepping into the courtyard, He Bi saw Cen Ji sitting quietly on a stone bench, looking very focused.
This is He Bi's first time visiting Cen Ji's secluded courtyard. Although the secret guards of Kongshan Ridge each have their own residences, they are quite far apart. Moreover, Kongshan Ridge has countless guards and servants, and originally, no one knew who was a secret guard and who wasn't.
Why stand before the gray-blue gate of the courtyard? One glance is enough to feel that this courtyard perfectly reflects Cen Ji himself. Every plant and tree in the courtyard is planted with great order; the trees are abundant but not chaotic, and the grass is lush but not messy. Even in late autumn, the plants still struggle to shed their last bit of verdant green.
Why bother?
He paused, surprised that Cen Ji was the one who spoke first.
How did you know it was me?
Cen Ji smiled and said, "A person who cannot rely on sight will always have their hearing trained to be exceptionally sensitive, because they have no other choice."
Why take it so seriously? He walked over to Cen Ji's side, but did not sit down.
Cen Ji tilted his head and said, "Why don't you sit down?"
Why say, "You're making me doubt whether you're really blind"?