Chapter 283: Living Is Enough (53K First Chapter)

"Finally… back home, cough cough…"

As dusk spilled like molten lead across the sky, Shi Diwen, having ridden the cheap horse bought at great cost from a caravan for over a month along the homeward journey, finally caught sight of the Burns ancestral manor's silhouette.

The family crest on the iron gate had long rusted beyond recognition, leaving only a few twisted iron bars stubbornly thrusting upward, clinging to the Burns' dignity.

"Tch. Damn dignity."

When he arrived at the estate, no one came to greet him, nor did anyone notice his arrival.

The Burns family now had no means left to hire guards to watch the gate—there was nothing left worth stealing anyway.

Shi Diwen dismounted, reached out to push the gate open, and found moss from the Mist Mountains still embedded between his fingers.

He paused, then raised a hand to his collar, touched the token granted by my lord, and finally calmed down.

"Thanks to my lord, I was able to barely make it back here."

He pushed open the gate and led his horse inside; the statue of the adventurer ancestor was now entwined in vines, leaving only half its face visible, and moonlight fell precisely upon the carved single eye—flickering, it seemed to be watching him.

But Shi Diwen was not frightened by this sight.

The ancestor was dead, utterly and completely dead.

Otherwise, if he had truly still lived—even if transformed into a legendary undead through some means—the family would never have sunk to this state.

He passed through the corridor flanked by crops—these lowly things had never belonged here before.

These crops were once the annual tribute paid by tenant farmers attached to our family; we only needed to collect them.

But now… ha.

People always find ways to survive.

What of nobility?

Nobles still need to eat.

Prosperous noble families have their ways—they pride themselves on nobility, claim noble blood, and arbitrarily tower above others.

But fallen nobles have their own way of surviving.

Struggle to live, then stubbornly hold your head high, declaring you have not yet sunk to the level of commoners.

Whether this means anything at all—that only heaven knows.

After tying the cheap horse to the long-abandoned stable, he returned to the manor's main gate.

Creak—

Gently pushing open the door, Shi Diwen finally saw a glimmer of light; the dim candle flame brought him a trace of warmth.

"I'm back."

Shi Diwen muttered to the empty, ruined entrance hall; the echo startled the spiderwebs clinging to the rafters.

The faded brown tapestry swayed in the draft, the ancestral figure once raising a sword now split into three jagged pieces.

He still remembered decades ago, when he was a child, how this place, though not luxurious, had never been this desolate.

Only after his father's several foolish missteps did the already declining family fortune collapse entirely—most possessions were sold off, leaving only the ancestral manor… and the noble title of Burns.

"Adventurer family… ha."

Shi Diwen lowered his head to the floor; his slumped shadow stretched across the cracked boards like a snake with its bones removed.

Slumped.

Though he hadn't felt it on the road, his mind fixed only on returning home, oblivious to exhaustion.

But the moment he stepped across the threshold, the accumulated fatigue surged into his body and soul like a tide.

Tired.

Yet he had finally returned to his harbor… but he could not rest yet.

Shi Diwen still had important business unfinished!

Of the remaining tasks, the most urgent was to take his daughter away.

Shi Diwen believed that though their father-daughter relationship had never been close, with years of separation and little affection between them…

If he explained clearly what he had seen and heard, she would surely agree to come with him to that dreamlike pure land.

Because it was the true pure land he had always sought—a place where his daughter need not flee from others' eyes and could live in peace!

"L-Lord?"

The sudden, aged voice made Shi Diwen nearly knock over the nearby bronze candelabrum.

"Who?!"

Creak… creak…

Amid the groaning floorboards, a weathered, bark-like old face emerged from the shadow of the spiral staircase.

Undead!!?

Shi Diwen was clearly startled, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword—then he realized the "monster" looked familiar.

Not undead. Alive.

And an old acquaintance.

The old steward Lian's hunchback was even more bent than when he left; in his hand he held a lantern.

After recognizing Shi Diwen's face, the old steward clearly brightened, took two quick steps forward, and said: "Lord! It's really you! You've finally returned—I thought you…"

What fate awaits an "adventurer" who remains absent for too long?

It's not hard to guess—it's always the same few possibilities.

Either trapped somewhere… or dead in some forgotten corner…

And in truth, there is no essential difference between the two.

A dead adventurer is worthless.

"It's you. Don't scare me like that—I'm back."

Shi Diwen sighed and said irritably, "If I made it through the whole journey without a single mishap, only to be scared to death by you, then the adventure record of this adventurer would be far too embarrassing."

The old man laughed as well, shaking his head: "Heh heh, the young master is joking. The Burns bloodline has never produced a coward, and among adventurers there has never been a coward."

And while shaking his head, the old man's peripheral vision suddenly caught sight of Shi Diwen's arm.

"This—this is!?"

The old butler widened his eyes, took in the various wounds all over Shi Diwen's body, froze for a moment, then shook his head.

Mumbling as if to comfort himself: "It's fine, it's fine, coming back is what matters, being able to come back alive is already wonderful."

As the elder who had watched Shi Diwen grow up, he had long since taken him as his own son in his heart.

Of course the old butler did not want Shi Diwen to be hurt, but since his own young master had chosen the hardest path of "reviving the family," there was nothing he could do to stop him.

Touched by Lane's attitude, Shi Diwen also sighed a long, emotional sigh and lamented: "Yes, being alive is enough."

Being alive is enough.

After the master and servant had spent a while lamenting at the door, Shi Diwen thought of another important matter.

Where's his daughter?

He looked around, did not find the gaze secretly peeking at him from the corner, and asked in puzzlement: "Where's Teresa? Why isn't she coming out to see me?"

Even though he had returned a bit late, it was clearly still nowhere near bedtime.

Where was she?

Throwing a tantrum?

Refusing to see her unreliable old father?

"... Teresa?"

While Shi Diwen was thinking, the old man beside him clearly hesitated for a moment, racking his brain over that name.

After thinking for half a minute, he blinked and asked uncertainly: "You couldn't possibly mean... that village girl, could you?"

"Village girl?"

Shi Diwen's brow furrowed at the address, his voice dropping low, and he said unhappily: "Is that what you all call her? Granted, she really has no learning, and doesn't understand noble etiquette."

"But out of respect for me, shouldn't you show her some respect?"

Village girl?

How absurd!

Faced with the current head of house's anger, the old butler grew even more bewildered.

"Respect? Your relationship? This... huh?"

The old butler's eyes went wide, he sucked in a cold breath, bit his lip, and asked tentatively: "The relationship between you two—is it... actually very close?"

Shi Diwen, assuming the other man had done something disrespectful toward Teresa, grew even more displeased and snorted angrily: "Nonsense! I already sent her here, don't you understand what I meant?"

"But..."

The old butler was silent for quite a while, and finally could not hold back any longer, arguing loudly: "But she's already over sixty years old! Young master, you've lost your mind!"

The old man's bewildered question echoed through the quiet great hall.

Shi Diwen:?

What?

What are you talking about, sixty years old?

Why can't I understand a word of this?

Seeing that the head of house seemed to have the "intention" of playing dumb, the old butler, for the family's future, threw caution to the wind.

The old man simply dropped all pretense and declared in a thundering voice: "Young master, I do not agree to this marriage!"

"Even though Teresa only recently lost her fourth husband, I still feel she's not quite suitable for you—no, very unsuitable!"

Shi Diwen:??

"Huh!? What did you say?"

What marriage!?

You all even arranged a betrothal for Teresa?

What on earth have you done!?

Seeing Shi Diwen looking so utterly baffled, the old man's momentum stalled; he clearly hesitated for a moment, but still mustered his courage to keep arguing:

"Young master! Stop pretending!"

"Since you've already said it, there's no need to keep up the act!"

"I know our Burns family has fallen on hard times, but you still wouldn't go looking for a woman like that..."

At the end, he clenched his fists, his eyes welling with tears, and said with deep feeling: "I cannot betray the grace the old master showed me!"

"As long as I am still alive! You absolutely cannot do something that insults the family!!!"

Shi Diwen:???

What the hell, a widow!?

What the hell, me marrying her!?

"Where on earth did your mind go!?"

Shi Diwen painfully rubbed his temples and growled helplessly: "Shut up, I'm not talking about the person you're thinking of!"

He finally realized what had gone wrong between their two lines of conversation.

It was a complete case of talking at cross-purposes.

He was thinking of his own daughter Teresa, whom he had let down, while the old butler was clearly thinking of some tenant-farming village girl who happened to share the name "Teresa."

Who was over sixty, and had buried four husbands...

He now seriously wondered what on earth the old butler thought of him.

In his eyes, would I possibly take a fancy to a woman like that!?

The old steward was clearly overawed by Shi Diwen's presence. Though old, he was not yet muddled, and sensing something was off, he asked carefully:

"Then... whom do you mean?"

Shi Diwen let out a long sigh and said helplessly, "I mean my daughter—where is Teresa!?"

"Daughter? Your daughter?"

The old man was dazed once again, taking quite a while to digest this unexpected, astonishing piece of news, then asked in wonder, "So you actually have an illegitimate daughter!?"

"That's wonderful!"

The old man excitedly clenched his fists and said joyfully, "This is truly wonderful! Truly wonderful, wonderful..."

Because of his agitation, a hint of choking crept into his voice.

"I—I always thought you had no intention of taking a wife your whole life, that the bloodline of the Burns family would be cut off here. I never expected you would on your own... this is truly wonderful!"

Shi Diwen's marriage had always been a worry for him—arguably the heaviest weight on his heart.

This family head was wholly bent on reviving the family, yet he refused to take a wife or marry into another noble house, and left behind no heir of his own blood.

And now, hearing Shi Diwen's meaning, he had secretly left behind an heir out there—and one who seemed to be no longer young!

Wonderful!

Shi Diwen had calmed down somewhat by now, and realized something was wrong.

His brows knit tightly; he raised a hand to press the old steward's shoulder and said in a low voice, "You mean... Teresa never came here?"

How could Teresa not have come?

"No, if Young Lady Teresa had come, I would certainly have remembered—I couldn't possibly forget."

The old man shook his head, then asked hopefully, "How old is the young lady? Who is her mother? Oh! Young Master, please don't misunderstand, I don't mean to criticize you..."

The old steward was still pressing his questions, but Shi Diwen could no longer hear him—he sank his entire mind inward.

No, no, no.

Teresa should have arrived long ago!

Even if she didn't go on her own, the caravan should have gone to fetch her by the appointed time.

He had already paid the caravan sufficient deposit and fees; the other party couldn't possibly have broken the contract.

Was it that something had gone wrong with the caravan, that it had run into danger?

Or had Teresa refused to follow his arrangements?

This...

The more he thought about it, the more uneasy Shi Diwen's heart became.

She couldn't have gotten into trouble, could she?

Teresa!

No, no, that won't do.

The unease in his heart left Shi Diwen utterly unable to calm down. Unable to bother with further explanations, he turned and headed straight for the door.

"Young Master!?"

His panicked movements also made the old steward's heart clench. He followed him out, calling loudly, "Young Master, where are you going? It's so dark out—whatever it is, wait until tomorrow!"

But Shi Diwen could not stop his steps now.

Ask him to sit quietly and wait through the night?

He probably wouldn't be able to fall asleep at all.

"I'm going to go check."

Shi Diwen led out the nag that was still munching on horse grass, swung himself straight into the saddle, clamped his legs, and was about to ride off.

"Young Master, where on earth are you going!?"

Behind him, the old man's calls grew fainter and fainter. Shi Diwen did not look back, and shouted a single line.

"I'm going to fetch her!"

With that, he explained no further, gave the horsewhip a vicious crack, and rode off toward that remote village.

"Teresa, my daughter, please, please don't let anything have happened to you!"

He clenched his teeth and prayed to the gods.

"No matter what, you must be alive!"

"Hey, still alive?"

Teresa's eyelids twitched slightly; she slowly opened her left eye and took in the surroundings.

She had actually been lying on Quinna's back, carried by her for who knew how long.

"Miss Quinna...? What happened to me?"

She tried to rise, but a wave of searing pain shot through her entire body.

"Hiss—!"

The back of her head felt as though it had been smashed by a boulder; a dull ache wandered over the right half of her face, and especially her right eye, as if soaked in scalding hot water, making her clench her teeth.

What on earth had happened?

She tried hard to recall the details before she had passed out—her consciousness had last frozen at the instant the shadow bat had lunged at her.

"Don't move around; I may not be able to keep you steady on my back."

Quinna's soft words pulled Teresa back to herself, and she took in the surroundings.

They were still in the caverns of the Shadow Lands, and still within the slave caravan's column.

Only, after that earlier upheaval, the number of people in the column had shrunk by about half—including the guards.

Among those remaining, whether guards or slaves, most bore lingering wounds on their bodies.

The one thing that hadn't changed at all was the mysterious caravan master's carriage—completely intact, without a single alteration.

Their fates hadn't changed either.

And those slaves who had tried to change their fate, tried to escape… had already met their deaths one step ahead of time.

Teresa was silent for a while, wanting to climb down from Quinna's back, but Quinna held her up with her hand.

Quinna's voice was gentle, a vigorous vitality showing through her weakness: "No rush to get down, you still need to rest a while longer."

Teresa hesitated for a moment, but still didn't refuse her kindness, and continued to lie on that withered yet unusually warm back.

After a moment, she asked in a hoarse voice: "Miss Quinna… after I passed out, how long has it been?"

Although Teresa didn't know the exact time, the bloodstain on her right eye patch had already dried, so she estimated quite a while had passed.

"Two days, maybe? Anyway, after you fainted the battle ended very quickly. That mage made a move, and those shadow bats all died in an instant."

Quinna thought for a moment, then pouted: "Tch, two days, huh? Feels about right… damn it, there's no sun here, so I can't really tell the time clearly."

For creatures like them who lived under sunlight, the concept of time had already begun to become disordered underground.

Is it daytime or nighttime right now?

Probably no one could say for certain.

Teresa pressed her lips together, looked up at the rock ceiling above, her voice slightly trembling: "Do we… still have any hope?"

Hearing Teresa's sobbing whisper, Quinna clearly froze for a moment, then smiled and shook her head: "Well, you're still alive right now, so don't worry about that stuff."

"You can still breathe, your heart can still beat, you can still feel pain, you can even think about these things—that's already enough."

Her comfort wasn't exactly gentle, and it wasn't exactly amusing either, but it unexpectedly brought Teresa a sliver of calm.

"…Mm."

The girl hummed in acknowledgment and gently nodded.

Quinna smiled and said softly: "Hehe, we estimate that in another stretch of time we'll almost be reaching our destination."

Destination—a beautiful word.

For those on their way home, "destination" means home, means being able to return to one's own refuge.

But for slaves like them who had been sold? What does "destination" ultimately mean?

It is death.

This pitiful group of wretches would miserably welcome death.

Perhaps, this is their fate.

Most of the slaves remaining now had also accepted this fate, their spirits low, no longer trying to resist.

They had struggled, but couldn't change anything.

And just when Teresa thought Quinna was the same as everyone else, she suddenly gave Teresa's leg a gentle squeeze.

"Mm?"

Then, Teresa heard a faint sound reach her ears.

("Don't worry, you won't die. Later I'll take you somewhere.")

Teresa:!!?

She heard it clearly—it was Quinna's voice.

And most crucially, at this moment, the words Quinna spoke were completely different from her previous dejection!

She said:

("Don't worry, I won't let you die.")

("Teresa, you can trust me completely, because your big sister here, I…")

("Am a knight!")

Teresa:!!?

(End of chapter)