Chapter 383: Luoer's Confusion

Man Er thought he was probably going to die.

Within his line of sight.

On the left lay a corpse, and on the right another corpse.

The cold moonlight illuminated a scene of wreckage—severed limbs, shredded flesh, fresh blood still flowing—dyeing the clearing a dark crimson.

In the middle stood Luoer, just having slowly pulled the short knife from the Village Chief's chest.

Gurgle.

Man Er swallowed with difficulty a mouthful of saliva tasting of iron rust, his throat dry and painful.

He watched Luoer casually flick the blood droplets from his blade, then use the blood‑ and rain‑soaked back of his hand to wipe the blood splattered on his face.

The motion was not rough, even bearing a post‑battle fatigue, yet it made Man Er's heart feel as if it would leap out of his chest.

Then Luoer turned, his gaze landing precisely on him.

One step, two steps… Luoer walked slowly, his boots producing a faint squelching sound in the blood‑soaked mud, each step feeling like a footfall on Man Er's near‑breaking nerves. When Luoer stopped before him, he looked down from a height at the trembling, crumpled figure on the ground.

Their eyes met.

Luoer's gaze was complex—cold after‑effects of battle, scrutiny, but above all a deep confusion and… disappointment?

"Man Er," Luoer began, his voice hoarse, carrying the chill of a rainy night:

"Why?"

He paused, as if truly seeking an answer: "We only… stayed for one night."

Man Er opened his mouth, but his throat felt clogged with water‑soaked cotton, producing no sound.

Why? Does it even need to be asked? For your bulging purses, for your seemingly priceless clothes and mounts, for that windfall!

But could those words be spoken?

He dared to promise that, as long as he uttered any word linked to greed—

the next second, Luoer's blood‑dripping short knife would unhesitatingly slit his throat!

His mind was swept by a raging wind, frantically searching for any possible excuse to save his life.

A misunderstanding? Coercion? A moment of folly?

But which excuse could explain the village's premeditated massacre?

Which excuse could stand before this field of comrades' corpses?

Luoer gave no hurry, merely watching him quietly; his calm stare pressed harder than a roar, as if saying: make something up, I'm watching, see what reason you can concoct to spare your life.

Time drifted in dead silence, each second stretching like a century.

At that moment, a crisp, childish voice tinged with sobbing and fear suddenly came from beside them:

"Don't hurt my father!"

The voice, like a sudden thunderclap, instantly shattered the frozen atmosphere!

Luoer's and Man Er's expressions changed dramatically at once!

Luoer was surprised, his brows slightly furrowing as his gaze turned toward the source.

Man Er was horrified, his face instantly draining of all color, leaving only endless terror and despair!

He jerked his head and saw a slit in the tightly shut house door, through which a large and a small figure stood at the entrance!

They were his children!

Speaking was the older sister, about ten years old.

Her face was pale; though her body trembled slightly from fear, she still ran forward, straightening her tiny spine, spreading her arms as if to shield her younger brother and father with her frail body.

She was only as tall as Luoer's chest, yet at that moment displayed a bravery beyond her years.

Her younger brother, even smaller, clutched her sleeve, biting his pale lips, though silent, but in those tear‑filled eyes.

Beyond fear, there also churned anger toward Luoer, the "murderer," and a vague hatred.

"No… don't come! Go back! Quickly go back!"

Man Er could not attend to his excruciating pain or the filth beneath him; he scrambled on his knees, trying to block the two children entirely behind him, forming a pitiful yet desperate shield.

He turned to Luoer, the ferocity and scheming on his face long gone, leaving only a father's primal plea, his voice trembling: "Today's events… were all our planning! It was my greed! I deserve to die!"

"The children have nothing to do with this! They know nothing! Please, please don't hurt them! If you must kill, kill me! I beg you!"

He begged incoherently, his forehead pounding the cold, muddy ground, producing a dull thud.

Luoer simply listened in silence, his face expressionless, until Man Er finished, gasping, and looked at him with eyes streaked with blood, full of despair and pleading.

"When you did these things," Luoer finally spoke again, his voice thick with confusion:

"Did you never think it would involve them?"

Man Er trembled all over.

Did you think about it? Of course you did.

But greed blinded everything; a lucky‑break mindset made them believe they could easily take this............... they simply never imagined they'd fail so completely, so brutally, forcing the children to confront such bloodshed and death.

"This… this…" Man Er's lips trembled, stammering, unable to find any excuse; any excuse now seemed pale and ridiculous.

Luoer, however, seemed not to need his answer, simply speaking to himself:

"If I kill you, they will surely hate me; now I may be powerless, but in the future, given a chance, they will find every way to avenge their father."

"If I don't kill you, tonight's incident won't pass; my companion was nearly killed, I almost died here myself, I feel uneasy."

"If I strike those still‑children…" Luoer's gaze swept over the two trembling kids, their eyes mixing fear, hatred, and bewilderment, and he shook his head slightly:

"Then I'm no different from you lot who can murder at will for money."

He paused, as if weighing, yet also questioning himself.

"But if I don't act, I leave a lingering threat… difficult, indeed difficult," he repeated softly, each sentence a heavy stone crushing Man Er's heart, already frozen in ice.

It turned his complexion as pale as paper, erasing the last hint of color.

For a long time, for a long time.

Only the night wind's wail over the blood‑stained ground, and the two children's suppressed sobs.

Man Er seemed to have exhausted all his strength, his head drooping despondently. After a long while, he finally spoke in a hoarse voice that was almost inaudible:

"Give me… some time. Tomorrow… at first light, I will send them away, to a place far, far away where no one knows them, and then… then I will return."

"You killed me."

He lifted his head, his eyes a dead‑gray calm, yet bearing a final stubborn plea: "I won't run, I swear to God."

Luoer, seeing his nearly desperate pleading gaze, fell silent for a moment, then asked:

"What about your wife?"

Man Er's body suddenly stiffened, a trace of indescribable pain and struggle flashing in his eyes, but in the end that struggle was extinguished.

He lowered his head, his voice a whisper: "Since… she also got involved, then…"

He didn't finish, but the meaning was already crystal clear.

Share the guilt, face the same end.

Luoer remained silent even longer this time.

Man Er's heart rose higher with his silence, nearly ceasing to beat.

Finally, Luoer seemed to have made a decision and spoke slowly:

"I will give you time; after you send your children and the others' children away…"

He raised his hand and pointed east, the direction they had originally intended to go.

"Go there and find me."

After speaking, he gave Man Er no more glances, as if he hadn't seen the two trembling, crying children at the doorway, turned straight away, stepping over the blood‑stained ground and corpses, heading toward the quiet side room where the fire burned warmly.

He left Man Er, despondent, collapsing into the pool of blood, with the shattered family door behind him and two bewildered children whose futures had been irrevocably altered.

In front of him lay the cold corpses of villagers from the same village, and a heavy, lingering shadow of this blood‑soaked night.

Until Luoer's figure vanished inside the door, a light "bang" sounded, the door closed, separating the two worlds inside and out.

Inside, the firelight remained warm.

Luoer sat on the ground in front of Yu Lin, took the cup of water Yu Lin handed over, the water still warm.

He cradled the cup with both hands, silent for a long while, staring blankly at the dancing flames before him, his gaze a little hollow.

Yu Lin also said nothing, simply sitting quietly, as if keeping company, yet also as if waiting.

Outside, the sky, amid deathly silence and blood, gradually shifted from deep black to ink blue, then hinted at a faint gray‑white.

A long time passed.

Long enough that the birds outside the window began to chirp tentatively, long enough that the first extremely faint strand of morning light appeared.

Only then did Luoer speak suddenly, his voice weary, filled with deep incomprehension, as if asking Yu Lin, and as if asking this absurd Human World:

"Yu Lin, this world… what exactly happened?"

"Is this what God wants to see? Why doesn't He intervene?"

"Could it be that He…"

He babbled about his confusion, interpreting God's intent with his own guesses, trying to probe what God's purpose truly was.

Yu Lin only listened, and only after he finished speaking did he reply:

"If you can understand God, then He is not God."