Un joven enfermizo que viaja a la época de la dinastía Song

Capítulo 166

Are you scared? Of course you are, but what's the use of being scared once you're in? Even if the children of the Sikong family are incompetent, they can still dominate a region. What's there to be afraid of? Even if you die, your elder brother will be there to keep you company.

"Are you seventeen?" Grandpa picked me up, because I was the only child who had come across unharmed. "You're as adorable as your father."

I dared not speak. No one in the Sikong family dared to speak to him directly, not even the Holy King of Xifeng Kingdom—Xi Zaitian.

"Grandpa grants you permission to cultivate—the Bone-Covering Technique." He bestowed his grace, and I was held in his arms. The people in the forbidden area all knelt down, "Congratulations, Master, on your pardon."

From then on, we children were different from others; we practiced the Sikong family's secret technique—bone-building.

But I don't want to die. They laughed, but I didn't. I want to go back to see my mother, I want to go back to see Qianqing. I can't die, I must be obedient.

I need to practice harder than others.

Uncle Zhong helped me realign my bones. My familiar ten fingers suddenly became deformed. The pain was indescribable—all I could hear in my mind was the cracking sound of bones breaking, everything else was a blank. When I was numb with pain, Uncle Zhong cut open my flesh and let countless tiny white worms in. At that time, I couldn't feel anything. My whole body didn't feel like my own. I gritted my teeth and forced myself not to die.

Ten days later, Grandpa lured out seven small snakes. He lined us up in a row and said, "Listen, you have to attract them over. If you fail, you won't be here."

I was terrified. They were so familiar; the runes on my elder brother's body were exactly the same as theirs. I backed away, not wanting them to get close, but two snakes kept crawling around me. I huddled in a corner and tried my best to shoo them away, but they stayed curled up at my feet and wouldn't move away.

Grandpa picked me up again: "Seventeen, right? Good, very good. Ha-ha."

He laughed loudly, and I held back my tears. I'm not smart, I wasn't smart when I was little, and I learned those lessons from my older brother.

After that, there were five of us left. They all looked strange; their complexions were no longer rosy, and their lips were pale. I didn't look in the mirror, and I didn't dare look at the water. I was afraid of seeing my eldest brother.

I'm timid, even more afraid of death than Ziyi was back then. Every night, those little bugs would crawl out of my bones, and I would want to cut myself with a knife. Everyone else did that, but I didn't dare. The blood would hurt even more. So I sprinkled salt in water and soaked myself in it, which relieved the excruciating pain.

As we grew weaker, more and more corpses were carried out, but no one cried here, or rather, no one would cry at the Sikong family's house. I didn't cry either. When I was in good health, I would sit under the tree that my elder brother often mentioned to me and talk to the leaves. I would tell them stories and catch insects for them. I was in pain, and they couldn't bear any more pain.

When I felt unwell, I would soak in the water, feeling like my body was about to explode. I would lean over the edge of the tub, trying to keep myself from looking. I gritted my teeth and endured it, when Grandpa suddenly came in.

He held me down, and panic and death flashed through my mind. I was submerged in water and struggling to breathe.

He took out a knife and slid it across my back. Tears flowed as I wept with fate. I had endured so long. I didn't want to be the eldest brother. I didn't want to die. I didn't want to never see my mother again...

"Sikong Qian, don't try to take shortcuts! Otherwise, things will be even worse!" He cut open the flesh, and a jet-black snake, smelling the blood, slithered inside.

It rejoiced, living and wandering in my bones and blood. I stopped struggling and sank completely to the bottom. I was no longer like everyone else; I too would die.

Grandpa passed away. I looked into the room through the water: Brother, I didn't know you suffered so much. Death was better than life.

It gnawed at my remaining flesh and blood. Perhaps when I wake up the next day, I'll be like everyone else, forgetting what I look like, forgetting the smiling face I had when I ran into my mother's arms, forgetting my little face that was being kneaded and pinched...

Once lost, it's gone forever. All that's left is to live. I must live; I can't let her cry.

I started feeding them, and when my body couldn't satisfy them, I would cut my face. In short, either I would overfeed them to death, or they would bite me to death. We'd all have to wait and see who came out on top! The psychological trauma began to emerge.

Grandpa isolated us. I was alone in a canyon. I didn't need to know where I was. I only knew that if I survived a year, I could get out. But I wanted to live, so I compromised and chose to cultivate—the bone-mending technique.

Living comes at a price...

I stayed there for three years, forgetting what my brothers and sisters looked like, forgetting that I used bowls and chopsticks to eat, forgetting that clothes were necessary to cover my body, forgetting the warmth and coldness of family, forgetting the difference between humanity and nature. I became accustomed to eating wild animals, accustomed to communicating with things, accustomed to breathing with my body, accustomed to walking on all fours. I became accustomed to seeing "friends" wherever I went.

Three years later I saw my grandfather. It didn't matter whether he came or not. I sat on the ground and almost forgot who he was.

He laughed, and I released my "companions," which crawled all over the valley, hissing and spitting. Their happiness made me happy.

I laughed too, and he picked me up and took me outside...

I now have a tutor, guards, and he even gave me a companion as beautiful as a fairy, but he emphasized—she is a servant. A servant? Servants are all better looking than us, their faces never grow new skin, they never look in the mirror, never think about their own appearance.

I thought she would scream, just like I did when I saw my older brother in my distant memories.

She didn't cry out, showed no surprise, no fear; she smiled, a gentle smile. Like a mother's smile, she evokes my longing.

She taught me about routines and everyday life. I had seven teachers, each imparting different skills to me. I discovered that I was very clever at that time; I could remember everything they said, and I never forgot the words on paper.

A year later they left, dejected.

At that time, I didn't know they were the top sages of the four countries, nor did I know they were servants in this family.

Besides the necessary homework and completing the tasks assigned by my grandfather, I often stared at Greenie in a daze. She also practiced martial arts, but it didn't harm her appearance. She was so beautiful that I couldn't find any words to describe her; language would be an insult to her beauty.

No wonder she didn't like her; perhaps being too beautiful was a blow.

If it weren't for her later, I might have had a different future...

When I was nine, my grandfather put a human face mask on me. He tried it several times, but no matter how exquisite the mask was, it didn't look real on my face. "Grandpa's face is a mask too," he sighed. "Qian, you always reap what you sow."

I know that from now on I will live with him, and no one will ever see what I look like, no one will ever know our shared secret. I no longer care about this face. But when she called out to me so openly, I wanted to strangle her. I hated her more than anyone else, a hatred that ran deep in my heart.

Leaving the forbidden area, I found myself surrounded by a sea of people, kneeling in submission and fear. I could clearly hear their breathing and sense their unique aura. Without lifting a finger, I was confident I could kill them all.

As I left, I had no idea that those kneeling there would go out and cause all sorts of trouble!

Grandpa held my hand, and I became the only surviving child, the next head of the Sikong family...

I saw my mother and father, but my grandfather wouldn't let me near them. They were afraid of me, so I took my grandfather's hand and left with him.

(The next chapter will be updated later; I'll try to finish it in two chapters with more words.)

[Extra: Sikong Qian (2)]

When I was nine years old, my grandfather took me to meet Qianqing.

He sat on the dragon throne, his small body as firm as a mountain.