Chapter 635: The Lost Childhood (7/10, Autumn Subscription)

The aura was rising.

Fang Yue's battle intent was surging.

When he first entered the Innate Third-rate Realm, he killed the Rat Seat of the Phoenix Organization's Twelve Seats!

Now that his strength has exploded into the Xiantian First-rate Realm, with the Weird Realm's aid, suppressing a Rat Seat—same rank as the Horse Seat—is effortless!

Although the Twelve Seats' strength varies, not all are on the same level.

But surely the difference shouldn't be too great.

Just as Fang Yue thought this, the Rat Seat made an action Fang Yue never expected.

The Rat Seat cast one deep glance at Fang Yue, then turned and fled!

Yes, he fled!

Without even looking back, he accelerated wildly into desperate retreat!

In the moment Fang Yue was stunned, the man was nearly out of sight.

Fang Yue's expression changed—he ignored everything else and immediately gave chase.

As the two chased each other, they quickly vanished from everyone's sight.

Watching the two vanish one after another into the darkness, those left behind exchanged bewildered glances, their faces filled with shock.

For a moment, none of them knew what to do.

"Protect the Young Mistress!"

Mang Liuzi shouted at this moment, gathering the death soldiers around him to guard the Young Mistress, the barely breathing Hai Guanjia, and… himself.

The gaping wound on his left waist made his consciousness blur—he had to call for help soon, or he'd truly die here.

Master Ye entrusted the Young Mistress to me, and now I can barely save myself!

Of course, if an enemy broke in, he could still struggle on despite his injuries.

But acting recklessly like this would only make him die faster.

"Master Ye… Hai Guanjia…"

The Young Mistress clenched her fists, gazed deeply at the direction Fang Yue had vanished, then pulled out a handkerchief, tore off her sleeve, and bandaged Hai Guanjia's claw wounds.

Seeing the bloodstained handkerchief, the Young Mistress's mind drifted—she suddenly remembered the dirty handkerchief always wrapped around Fang Yue's right hand, and she let out a bitter smile, but quickly regained her composure, wiped Hai Guanjia's sweat, ordered someone to fetch a physician, and directed the battle.

Though her combat ability was weak, the Young Mistress had a knack for command when calm.

This came from Yang Tuanzhang's meticulous training.

In fact, Yang Tuanzhang's training for the Young Mistress was comprehensive and all-encompassing.

But during cultivation, the Young Mistress, due to her own inclinations, began neglecting some skills, gradually becoming outstanding in only a few areas while the rest remained mediocre.

Under sufficient conditions, most wealthy families raise their next generation with comprehensive cultivation, then selectively focus on the child's innate talents and abilities.

During her time in the Dayang Caravan, the Young Mistress had always been fine—whether she wanted to slack off or work hard, Yang Tuanzhang gave her full freedom.

Perhaps the freedom went too far—her weaknesses truly dragged her down; otherwise, the Dayang Caravan's achievements could have risen another level, and they might not even have needed a Guest like Fang Yue—after ten or eight years of disciplined training, a sudden surge could still have propelled them into the top ranks.

But now, her weaknesses were already set; the cost of time could not be recovered.

Under the Young Mistress's command, the remaining Duanwei Taimei, already demoralized, were driven back or slain one by one.

All other invading black-clad men were dealt with.

The entire Dayang Fu gradually grew quiet.

Mang Liuzi lay barely alive on the ground, his wounds treated and bandaged by the physician, then carried to bed to rest, while medicine was brewed and administered with his three daily meals.

Mang Liuzi felt lucky—at least he was still alive after this battle.

Though his attempt to flee alone had left a terrible impression on the Young Mistress.

But back then, he was nearly dead—he couldn't possibly defeat the Duanwei Taimei, the situation was clearly dire for the Dayang Caravan, so what else could he do? He had to save himself.

Should he have dragged the Young Mistress, the enemy's target, along? That would be suicide.

Still, anyone hearing Mang Liuzi's account would understand his actions.

But the fact that he tried to abandon the Young Mistress and the Dayang Fu could not be ignored.

Thus, everyone's attitude toward him grew cold.

Mang Liuzi gave up entirely—he was just like this; his life mattered most. Who cared about anything else? He hadn't even collected his Guest benefits yet, so why demand so much of him?

"As long as Master Ye doesn't kill me, I'm fine. Such a powerful expert—if he spent even a little time each day sparring with me, I'd soar! My strength would skyrocket!"

While Mang Liuzi could still daydream, even fantasizing about explosive growth, Hai Guanjia's condition had grown grim.

The Young Mistress sat beside Hai Guanjia's bed, her eyes swollen and red—she had clearly cried all night.

Outside, the morning sun was slowly rising, but after struggling through the night, Hai Guanjia ultimately could not hold on—his breath grew fainter, and he was moments from passing away.

As if experiencing a final flicker of life, when the warm morning sunlight streamed through the window slats and fell upon Hai Guanjia's face, he slowly opened his eyes.

"... Young Mistress?"

Hai Guanjia's voice was a threadbare whisper, as if about to snap.

The Young Mistress froze for an instant, then urgently grasped Hai Guanjia's hand.

"Hai Guanjia! Hai Guanjia, you… you…"

Tears began falling again from her eyes; grief overwhelmed her, and for a moment she could not speak—even she already sensed Hai Guanjia was leaving.

"... It's not your fault… Young Mistress… sing me a song… the one you loved most as a child… 'Yangyang Flower'…"

Though pain tortured him beyond endurance, Hai Guanjia still wore his gentlest expression as he whispered.

The Young Mistress's vision blurred, but she quickly wiped away her tears—she already felt Hai Guanjia was slipping away.

Forcing a smile worse than crying, she began to sing.

"Yangyang Flower" was the nursery rhyme she loved most as a child, taught to her word by word by Hai Guanjia's own hands.

Back then, she had been carefree, mischievous every day, while her father was often away on business, rarely home.

The one who truly grew up with her was Hai Guanjia.

In a certain sense, Hai Guanjia was her adoptive father.

Amid the soft, soothing song, Hai Guanjia seemed to see the scene from years past: the two of them singing a nursery rhyme together beneath the big willow tree.

The childish treble merged with the clear, now-adult female voice, bringing a tender smile to his face.

"You've grown up… Miss…"

As his voice faded, Hai Guanjia slowly closed his eyes and ceased breathing.

In the room bathed in morning sunlight, only a girl wept uncontrollably, her face streaked with tears, singing as she cried—her voice warped, her throat hoarse, her body curled on the bed, sobbing bitterly.

Her sobs carried far, mournful and moving, causing listeners to grieve and onlookers to shed tears.

…

Go buy breakfast.

(End of Chapter)