Chapter 341: A Xing's Little Moments 2

Her expression didn't change at all.

Her golden eyes calmly gazed at the bowl, her hand steady as she picked up the next chopstick-full.

She ate not quickly, but steadily, one chopstick-full after another—noodles, tofu, minced meat—delivered evenly into her mouth.

Red oil stained the corner of her mouth; she didn't wipe it off.

She should have been sweating on her forehead, but even her breathing rate didn't change.

Yan Feng Qili stood behind the stall, arms crossed, watching silently.

His face remained expressionless, but when A Xing took her fifth bite, he gave a slight nod.

"As expected of you, Teacher."

His voice was low and steady, unusually clear in the quiet night.

A Xing's chopping motion paused, and she lifted her eyes to him.

The two locked eyes again.

This time, their gazes held something more—confirmation, understanding, and a sense of realization.

A Xing swallowed the food in her mouth, then spoke, her voice slightly hoarse from the chili's irritation but still calm:

"Shall we go?"

Yan Feng Qili nodded solemnly.

He turned off the stove, locked the cash box, and flipped the "Open" sign to "Closed."

Then he took off his apron and chef's uniform, revealing the black shirt and pants he usually wore underneath.

The whole process took less than a minute.

A Xing finished the last bite of noodles and drank up the soup as well.

The bowl was spotless except for a trace of red oil.

She set down her bowl and chopsticks, then rose.

One after the other, they left the small stall and walked into the night.

They didn't speak, but their steps were in sync.

They passed two streets, went by Street Center Park, and turned into a narrow lane—

The green metal trash can was still there.

The streetlight illuminated only half of it; the other half lay in shadow.

A Xing and Yan Feng Qili stopped in front of the trash can.

They glanced at each other, then simultaneously bent down and began to rummage.

Their movements were practiced, their posture natural—as if this were their nightly routine.

"So,"

Yan Feng Qili spoke first, his voice unusually clear in the quiet alley: "What exactly is going on now?"

He picked up an empty soda can, glanced at it, then tossed it back.

A Xing was examining a cardboard box; hearing him, she paused.

"Illusion Realm."

She said briefly, "Huan Long did this. Everyone in Winterwood City has been pulled into it."

"Huan Long?"

"Extinction Great Lord. The kind that wants to destroy the world."

A Xing pulled a half-worn plush toy from the box—a dirty rabbit—and said, "But she's now an egg, recovering."

Yan Feng Qili digested this information.

He picked up a torn plastic bag containing a few expired magazines.

"What if we don't resolve it?"

"We'll stay trapped here."

A Xing set the rabbit down and began searching the next layer, "Or we wait for Huan Long to recover and turn the illusion into hell."

Yan Feng Qili nodded; his face remained expressionless, but a flicker of thought flashed in the depths of his eyes.

"And you?" A Xing asked. "Why make mapo tofu?"

Yan Feng Qili's movements slowed.

He picked up a rusted iron tin, opened it, and inside were several old coins.

"I like to watch."

He said calmly, "When people eat something spicy, that expression—tears welling up, nose reddening, mouth opening to inhale, hand fanning the face, shouting 'So spicy, so spicy,' yet unable to stop taking another bite—"

He paused, as if savoring that feeling.

"Painful, yet one must go on. Struggling, yet indulging. That contradiction… is delicious."

A Xing glanced at him; her golden eyes glimmered faintly in the night.

"So that's how it is."

She said, "That really took a big detour."

"What?"

"Looking for fun." A Xing put it succinctly: "You were rummaging through trash before, weren't you also seeking pleasure?"

Yan Feng Qili fell silent for a moment.

"... Yes."

He admitted, "But back then I didn't know what true pleasure was. Now, through mapo tofu, I've realized—watching people struggle between pain and enjoyment, that delicate balance, is what I want."

"Congratulations." A Xing said sincerely.

Yan Feng Qili's mouth corner seemed to lift by a mere 0.1 millimeter.

At that moment, A Xing turned over a cardboard box.

The box was a bit heavy and sealed with tape.

She tore off the tape and opened the box.

Inside was—

Yan Feng Qili leaned in to look.

Both fell silent at the same time.

A few seconds later, A Xing spoke, "Still Defense."

Yan Feng Qili: "……"

Inside the box was indeed a lump of hardened solid, taking an indescribable shape and color.

In the dim light, it lay there quietly, exuding a subtle aura of time's sediment.

A Xing and Yan Feng Qili locked eyes.

Then, both shifted their gazes away at once.

But A Xing's mouth corner twitched.

Yan Feng Qili's eye corner also curved slightly.

There was no hearty laugh, not even an obvious smile, yet the atmosphere—within the unfamiliar Illusion Realm, on a deep night when the whole world slept, against a backdrop rife with danger—two awake people rummaging through a trash can, uncovering something familiar.

Absurd.

Yet inexplicably comforting.

"Thought‑provoking," Yan Feng Qili said softly.

"Hmm." A Xing closed the box, "A familiar disgust."

They continued searching.

Perspective shift.

A Xing lay on a park bench.

The wooden bench was a bit hard, pressing into her back, but it was nothing to her.

She rested both hands behind her head, her golden eyes gazing at the night sky of Winterwood City—sky dyed dark red by city lights, stars invisible, only a few clouds outlined faintly by ground illumination.

She was pondering the recent exchange with Yan Feng Qili.

(He also has Memory… is it because he is Huan Long's Master? No, Huan Long is now an egg; the Master contract should have expired. So he woke up on his own?)

(Willpower? Or perhaps… he never really clung to reality?)

The evening breeze passed, carrying faint traffic sounds from distant streets.

The park was quiet, only the rustle of leaves and occasional insect chirps from the grass.

(What a pity, I forgot to ask where he lives…)

A Xing blinked.

(But asking would be useless. He's probably just making do somewhere. A mapo tofu stall might be his bed tonight.)

She turned over, facing the back of the bench.

The bench was short; her legs could only be tucked up.

(Just make do for one night. Tomorrow I'll figure something out…)

Just as she was about to close her eyes—

Rustle…

A rustle came from the nearby bushes.

A Xing instantly opened her eyes, silently sat up, her hand already reaching for her waist—there should have been a baseball bat there, but it was empty.

She clenched her fist, her golden eyes fixed on the shifting shadow.

The bushes were pushed aside.

A figure emerged from within…

Red hair, tangled like a storm‑torn bird's nest; silver armor, caked with grass clippings and mud, bearing obvious scratches; a handsome face with a hint of bewilderment, emerald‑like eyes faintly glowing in the night.

It was YinZhi.

A Xing raised an eyebrow.

(YinZhi? He's here too?)

She recalled having met this Pure Beauty Knight in the King's Army before, when he was enthusiastically pulling Weigong Qiesi to "experience the beauty of the battlefield."

Later the Illusion Realm erupted, pulling everyone in, including him.

She hadn't expected… it would look like this.

YinZhi burst fully out of the bushes, stood upright, and brushed the grass off his armor.

He looked around, and when his gaze landed on A Xing, he flinched slightly.

The two locked eyes.

A few seconds of silence.

YinZhi spoke first, his voice still clear and pleasant, even though his appearance resembled a fledgling knight fleeing a battlefield:

"Ah, miss… have we met somewhere before? The aura around you seems familiar."

A Xing rose from the bench, brushing dust off her school uniform.

"Met a few times."

She replied briefly, "In the desert. You were pulling a man in a windbreaker, saying you'd let him experience the beauty of the battlefield."

YinZhi's emerald eyes lit up instantly: "Exactly! What a magnificent sight! Ten thousand warriors charging across the sands, fighting for a shared belief—ah, the beauty of unity, the beauty of sacrifice, still reverberates in my heart!"