Chapter 142: Campfire

The forest grew silent. Luo Qi raised his head, watching the last wisp of mist, as if it existed yet did not, drift above the tops of the tall trees like a broken spiderweb. He walked slowly through the woods, loneliness winding around him like the mist. It was a long time before he felt a discomfort in his hands. He lifted them, the deep red on his palms making his scalp tingle; it was his friend's dried blood on his hands.

He stopped in his tracks, remembering how the bright, crimson blood had flowed incessantly from Du Zhengyi's body, how life had ebbed away from him bit by bit. He could feel Du Zhengyi's Yajian sinking, inch by inch, into the boundless darkness.

Luo Qi took a deep breath of the icy air from the depths of the mountain forest. His hands began to tremble. Finally, he curled his fingers and shoved his fists into his trouser pockets. He raised his head and continued walking deeper into the forest; the feeling of blood flowing endlessly and Yajian gradually leaving him remained impossible to shake off.

He wanted to hold onto his friend; he wanted him to stay in a safe place; he wanted to grab hold of that precious light of Yajian. If he were truly going to die, he would have loved to hide his Yajian away—hide it in a bottle, carry it on his person, keep it close, so that the Grim Reaper could never find him! He stopped abruptly beneath a cliff, turned, and stood with his back against the rock face. He pulled his hands from his pockets and pressed his fists against his mouth. He gasped and exhaled desperately, but he could not stop the panic, and in the end, he bit down hard on his own knuckles.

Luo Qi slid down against the cliff wall, waiting—waiting for life, waiting for death.

Time lost all meaning, just as it had beneath the Qionglin; time seemed infinitely long, yet also like a mere instant. He stared blankly at the sky above the treetops, not knowing where the boundary between infinity and an instant truly lay. The moon rose from behind the trees, bright in the sky. Such cycles of sunrise and sunset had repeated countless times; no one knew how many people had watched them in the eternal cold night.

Luo Qi's mind wandered. Suddenly, it was as if someone had patted him on the back; someone was calling him. He was stunned for a moment, then snapped back to reality and struggled to stand up. He did not know how long he had been sitting; his limbs were stiff. Even with the bright moon in the sky, the mountain wilderness, far from human habitation, was darker than he could have imagined.

Luo Qi stumbled a few steps, heading in the general direction he had come from. After walking blindly for about five minutes, that feeling returned. He had the sensation of someone calling his name; his attention was drawn by an invisible pull, and he couldn't help but smile. The feeling was familiar, just as we always respond with different feelings when different people call our names. What Luo Qi felt was a sense of closeness and trust, mixed with a familiar impatience.

He walked urgently, nearly tripping over pits in the ground several times. He did not know if the direction he was walking was correct, but if he didn't walk, he would never know if the direction was right. He pushed forward desperately. Suddenly, bright fireworks rose above the forest floor far to his front left, very conspicuous in the dark forest.

Luo Qi recognized that as fire created by a Mage. The flames rose and extinguished after about a minute. Luo Qi hurried toward the direction where the flames had risen, stumbling along. After walking through the dark forest for five or six minutes, the flames rose into the air once more, calibrating his direction like a lighthouse. He felt relieved and quickened his pace toward that direction with newfound confidence. Fortunately, the mountain forest here was not truly treacherous, and the terrain was quite gentle.

Yet Luo Qi still took a few tumbles, and the muscles in his legs were on the verge of cramping. Now, he felt that the version of himself from a few hours ago must have been an idiot; even if he had needed to walk away, he shouldn't have kept going until he hit a wall before stopping, walking so far away.

The flames rose, extinguished, and rose again in a rhythmic pattern. Luo Qi kept walking, climbing a few slopes. Finally, he no longer needed the rising flames; he could already see the light of a campfire in the woods. At that moment, the night wind blew gently through the trees. A lump formed in Luo Qi's throat, yet he was immensely happy—not the high-strung joy of his youth, but a cautious happiness. His heart was heavy with joy, because of what he had gained, because of the satisfaction.

From afar, he saw figures in the woods. They had changed locations; this was no longer the blood-stained battlefield. There were two figures sitting by the campfire, and one person leaning against a tree. The person standing was Mahjong; Luo Qi saw him release another flame into the air. Luo Qi hurried over. Guan Xinyue was sitting safely by the fire, adding dry branches to the blaze, and his heart warmed. There was another person sitting against the tree trunk; even from afar in the firelight, one could feel his exhaustion. He was the first to sense Luo Qi's approach, raising his eyes to look at him gently.

Luo Qi was overcome with ecstasy. He ran over in one breath, his heart full of gratitude to the heavens. Everyone was here, everyone was safe and sound. Even for Mahjong, because he had saved Du Zhengyi and looked after Guan Xinyue, Luo Qi felt deeply indebted to him. But most importantly, in a fit of wild joy, he forgot himself, threw himself at Du Zhengyi, and hugged his shoulders, suddenly laughing out loud.

"Luo Qi," Du Zhengyi said calmly, "this is very weird, you know?"

"Yeah," Luo Qi said, choking back tears. "You're okay, right? I heard you calling me."

"If you don't crush me to death, I probably won't die today," Du Zhengyi said, though he neither pushed him away impatiently nor told him to get lost.

Luo Qi couldn't help but laugh. He scrambled off Du Zhengyi quickly and looked him over carefully. He looked exhausted, but he was alive, even better than he had expected; at a glance, he looked about the same as he did every night when he was sleep-deprived. Luo Qi caught his breath, then timidly glanced at Guan Xinyue, who was observing him. He felt very awkward and could hardly bring himself to face her.

Mahjong suddenly asked from the side, "You heard Du Zhengyi call you?"

He looked at Mahjong cautiously. To his surprise, Mahjong did not seem to have any intention of killing him immediately. "Du Zhengyi, did you establish an Entanglement with him?"

"Of course not," Du Zhengyi said, frowning with exhaustion, as if he were very reluctant to say it. "Luo Qi, his ability might be stronger than you think. If a highly directional call is sent to him, he can sense it."

"Super doggy, that's flashy," Guan Xinyue said in a low voice, then laughed.

Luo Qi turned his head to look at her, not daring to react to Guan Xinyue's verbal attack this time. "Are... are you okay? I'm sorr—"

Guan Xinyue raised her hand to wave him off, telling him not to continue. "I actually don't know anything. I was already scared senseless at the time; I was a bit delirious from the moment I started running. Doctor Ma has already checked me over; everything is fine, there are no problems."

Even though she said this, she still looked at Du Zhengyi with envy and said with a hint of regret, "Still, I really wish I were a Mage too."

Luo Qi was speechless. Sometimes it is easy to say sorry, but some things can no longer be apologized for with just a word.

"You didn't take the opportunity to touch my chest, did you?" Guan Xinyue asked suddenly.

Luo Qi froze, his face flushing red instantly.

Du Zhengyi sneered with his eyes half-closed, "Luo Qi was too anxious this time to bother with that."