Chapter 220: Worldly Life is Like a Dream, and the Dream is Like a Maze

Worldly affairs are like a game of chess, life is like an ant, there is no joy in living, and no willingness in death.

Long Qi had always been this way. He had long been all alone, but in order to kill his enemies with his own hands, even while living a wretched existence, he had gritted his teeth and persisted.

That arrogant face, that mouth that kept sneering after killing his own kin, and the tragic, inhuman events of that night—he would never forget them for the rest of his life!

Yet, he was all alone; even just staying alive was a struggle of ten thousand hardships, let alone seeking revenge.

In the pitch-black darkness where he could not see his own fingers, he did not know what to do. In the past, those malicious words and cold remarks echoed incessantly in his ears, while little Long Qi curled his body up, motionless, as if he had long since grown accustomed to it.

In this endless darkness, where else could he go?

As if in response to his thoughts, a door opened ahead, and a blinding light pierced through, spilling onto his messy hair and his tattered clothes.

Little Long Qi looked up blankly, his eyes devoid of ripples, as if this light could not dispel the darkness in his heart at all. He remained curled up, merely staring fixedly at that patch of light.

Seemingly unable to get a response, that light lost its patience; after lasting only a moment, the door slowly began to close.

With a heavy creaking sound, the surroundings became increasingly dim, and the beam of light spilling onto little Long Qi became narrower and narrower, gradually becoming only the size of his own body.

Perhaps the smaller the light, the more it could gather. Little Long Qi's originally dull eyes, with the closing of that door, actually began to brighten. Gazing at the door slowly closing before him, he did not know where he found the strength, but he suddenly stood up and rushed toward that light.

The longer one stays in the darkness, the more one craves the light.

Little Long Qi stretched out his small arms and waved them forward, his frail body running incessantly, as if he could catch that light by doing so. He opened his mouth to shout, but nothing came out; he could only pant incessantly, heavy and rapid.

Behind him was a long, thin shadow, as if terrified of being abandoned, struggling to keep up with every pant.

Just as the door was about to close, little Long Qi finally caught up. He stretched out his hands to grip the door that had only a sliver of a gap left, using all his strength to try and push it open, but the light in the door gap grew increasingly faint.

Panic finally appeared on little Long Qi's face. His brows were tightly furrowed, his eyes filled with terror, yet he still kept his mouth pursed, fearing that if he relaxed for even a moment, he would never be able to see the light again.

He dared not give up, nor was he willing to!

Yet even so, the door continued to close on its own, completely unaffected by little Long Qi's strength, ruthless and indifferent.

No matter how much force his thin arms exerted, he still could not stop it. Just as little Long Qi was about to despair, he suddenly heard a series of calls coming from the door gap:

Long Qi...

Long Qi...

Little Long Qi did not know who was calling his name, but he felt the voice was incredibly pleasant. And these calls seemed to give him infinite strength; he spared no effort to pry at that sliver of a door gap, the veins on his face and hands bulging, his head tilted back as he roared, his eyes filled with tears, yet burning with intensity.

It seemed that because of this firm strength, the light that was about to vanish stopped at the very last point, and then instantly radiated brilliantly.

The door opened!

Without warning, silently, like a moment of stagnation in time, then suddenly speeding up.

The light enveloped little Long Qi's frail figure, and the shadow behind him was clear as day. He did not hesitate in the slightest, just closed his eyes and resolutely rushed in. And behind him, that shadow grew fainter and fainter, until even its outline vanished completely.

Opening his eyes again, little Long Qi found himself on a street. Sounds gradually reached his ears—cries of vendors, shouts, and bargaining were endless. He looked at the scene before him with a face full of astonishment, trying hard to recall everything, but he had no clue at all.

Where is this? Why does it feel so familiar?

The beating in his chest seemed to be amplified infinitely, clearly audible even amidst this clamor. Little Long Qi knew he was afraid, yet he did not know what he was afraid of.

Just as he was stunned, the people around him began to discuss.

"Eh? Whose child is this? Why is he dressed so raggedly?"

"Could he be a refugee? The City Lord governs well; for many years, there haven't been any poor souls left."

"A refugee? I haven't heard of any disasters nearby recently, and besides, the Yuanqing Sect is nearby; if he were a refugee, he should have been discovered long ago."

The crowd spoke one after another, all filled with curiosity about little Long Qi, but it was only a verbal debate; perhaps fearing they might scare him, no one stepped forward to speak to him.

It was then that a withered, wrinkled hand patted little Long Qi on the shoulder and said, "Little one, where do you come from? Why are you in such a sorry state?"

The voice was old, yet kind and amiable. But little Long Qi was already unsettled; as he turned his head, he saw a face covered in gullies and ridges smiling at him. He was instantly terrified, screamed, and hurriedly pushed through the crowd to run away, leaving a group of people looking at each other in dismay.

"Hey! Shen Pozi, look at you, you scared the child!"

Long Qi ran wildly for who knows how long, finally stopping, out of breath. He braced himself on his knees, panting heavily, sweat spilling onto the ground, strands of hair sticking to his face; in his disheveled state, there was a hint of defiance.

After panting for a long time, he realized that he had just been running blindly and did not know where he had run to. Now, everything was silent all around, making the thumping in his chest even more clearly audible.

Looking around, the bluestone road was silent, the small bridge and flowing water made no sound, as if time had stopped. Looking further, the alleys in the distance crisscrossed, varying in width and length—so familiar, yet so strange.

Where was he?

Where should he go?

As if in response to his inner thoughts, he heard the calls ring out once more:

"Long Qi..."

"Long Qi..."

This time the voice was different from before, so clear, as if it were right beside him, yet there was not a single soul in sight!

Who?

Who was calling him?

Little Long Qi asked loudly, his youthful voice tinged with hoarseness.

He always felt this voice was extremely familiar, yet he could not recall it no matter how hard he tried. But this voice lingered in his ears—concerned, urgent, sincere...

As if he had lost something important, or had forgotten a matter of extreme importance, little Long Qi searched anxiously everywhere, but could find nothing.

Long Qi... Long Qi...

The calls were sometimes gentle, sometimes frantic, so familiar.

Finally, he was tired; he could no longer run. His legs felt as if they were filled with lead, and he knelt down dejectedly, lowering his head and covering his ears as he roared:

"Who exactly are you!"

It was then that the voice in his ears stopped. All around, only a "creaking" sound came from a house to the side—one sound after another, one beat after another, rhythmic, bringing him peace of mind.

Following the sound, he looked over. The house before him was different from the others; its door was wide open, as if inviting him in. The interior of the house was pitch black, and only the scenery of the courtyard, through the middle door, was reflected in little Long Qi's eyes. He hesitated for a moment, then stood up and walked inside.

With little Long Qi's entry, his figure vanished into the darkness, and on the plaque outside the house, it was written clearly—

Youran Abode...