Chapter 161 - One Hundred Fifty-Nine: Night Boat on the White River

Chapter 161: Chapter One Hundred Fifty-Nine: Night Boat on the White RiverThe journey continued, and by now the daylight had begun to fade.

Hui Shuhang left the five hundred troops behind outside the city—for a suburban outing that would be fine, but following him into the city with an army would make anyone tremble with apprehension.

...She was overly confident. Confident that in such a small city, she could protect him.

Perhaps she had never considered that danger might come from those closest to her.

Su Ming’an considered his next move, and as he looked up, he heard the suddenly respectful tone of the city guards as they spoke to them.

"Hello, the entry fee is one copper coin."

Perhaps because their attire was too eye-catching, completely out of place amid the simple and worn clothing of those carrying luggage around them, a circle naturally formed as they entered the city. The crying children all fell silent at the adults’ scolding as if afraid to disturb them.

Su Ming’an watched Hui Shuhang silently paying the entry fee and then leading him inside.

He heard the sound of running water, turned his head, and saw a river adorned with floating lanterns.

"Kriliri is in the midst of the Lantern Festival," Hui Shuhang whispered to him. "Thinking you’d never seen it before, I brought you here."

Su Ming’an looked at the river.

Under the starry night sky, boats sailed along both shores, the wind and lantern lights gradually merged into a line, and the lotus lanterns illuminated the entire city.

Even as the daylight still cast a faint glow, the river shimmered under the starlight like a milky way on the ground, inducing the illusion of being in a dream.

Around him were the cries of vendors and the clear laughter of children, all sorts of folk conversations blending into one, soaked with the festive spirit as the cold wind buffeted his face.

He tightened his coat around him, admiring this beautiful scene, yet he felt increasingly cold... as if he was chilling unconsciously, his body temperature unavoidably dropping bit by bit, approaching the ambient temperature.

"...What’s wrong?"

His hand was gently taken, a warm energy began to flow into him, Hui Shuhang looked at him, her eyes full of concern.

"It’s so cold," Su Ming’an said truthfully.

"Hmm," Hui Shuhang nodded but seemed disinclined to say much more.

She held his hand, and though a layer of silk gloves separated them, he could feel that her hand was also cold, nearly the same temperature as his own. But warmth radiated from her in waves, slowly pulling him back from the icy embrace.

The viewers seemed happy with the live stream, apparently enjoying the plot of the two holding hands:

"——Wake up in front! Time to get up and forge!"]

"Does this feel better?" Hui Shuhang gently asked.

Her tone was extremely soft, completely different from the commanding attitude she’d shown to her subordinates earlier, tender as if only revealing itself in this moment. The hard shell of ice fully melted away, and the energy she transferred felt just like the warmth in her eyes at this time.

"...Why is it so cold." Su Ming’an stated, as if muttering to himself.

"Because it’s the polar night period," she said. "It’s all right, warmth will come... After your coming-of-age ceremony, there will never be such a cold season again."

She took Su Ming’an’s hand and slowly walked forward.

On this journey, Su Ming’an saw a lot.

Hui Shuhang didn’t lead him on the main roads, because if they walked there, their attire would draw every passerby’s respectful gaze. Wandering through streets and alleys, he heard bursts of laughter and saw many vagrants sleeping on the ground wrapped in oiled paper.

By the fountain in the square, there were roaming poets with backpacks, children delighted by the celebration, and richly dressed pedestrians. Hui Shuhang bought him a skewer of candied hawthorns to add some festive atmosphere.

"Mew..."

As they passed an alleyway, he nibbled on the treat in his hand and heard a sound resembling a cat’s meow.

He turned his head and looked inside, seeing a dark alley where the light didn’t reach, and a black cat was also gazing at him. The cardboard was being crushed under the cat’s paws, emitting a creaking groan.

He didn’t intend to give it another thought, but he noticed a layer of frost next to the cardboard box.

In the alley filled with clay pots and sacks tied at the neck, an old man leaned against the wall, his skin wrinkled, like the bark of an old tree. Upon closer inspection, Su Ming’an saw a thin layer of frost congealed on the man, seeping into every corner of his gaping clothes.

The old man’s head drooped, his expression peaceful, silent.

Like the remains rotting in the shadows, a rat that died in the alley.

Amidst the lanterns and celebrations in the cramped space, the old man froze to death soundlessly.

"Mew..."

The black cat continued to gaze at him, moving its paws slowly, then hopping onto the old man’s body. He heard a crisp "crack," and as the frost shattered, he saw beneath the emaciated body of the old man, another child who had also frozen to death.

He heard the sound of silvery laughter. Outside the alley in the daylight, children in cotton-padded jackets chased each other, and beautiful fireworks shot into the sky, bursting into a magnificent display of light.

He looked away.

Hui Shuhang’s hand held his, warming him gradually, dispelling the physical and psychological cold little by little.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly.

Su Ming’an let go of her hand.

"Hui Shuhang," he suddenly said, "have you been with the Regular Army ever since you have memories?"

"Yes," Hui Shuhang replied. "Since my birth, I’ve been tasked with the duty to guard the Regular Army."

"Then do you think—" Su Ming’an turned his head, "that the world we are in now is real?"

He knew that many copies of this instance had been made. The one he was in was just one of them, a copy that had been replicated.

Everything he saw, heard, and knew should be fictitious, a virtual world constructed by the instance, existing solely for him to complete the game.

But now, he might be having some doubts... What really counts as real, and what is fictional?

Hui Shuhang would not believe that her world was fictional, for in her memory, she had always lived here, with all the memories of this world.

He, too, would believe that life on Zhai Xing was not fictional, simply because of the "impression" in his mind.

As firm as his belief was, he seemed no different from Hui Shuhang.

Without waiting for Hui Shuhang’s answer, he said softly,

"Hui Shuhang, humans are indeed creatures that are easily deceived."

He felt his hand being tightened.

"If you are troubled by this, you actually needn’t be," she said. "We are born with emotions and desires, with the five senses, able to perceive and judge everything according to our own thoughts... Even if what we see is fictional, you can firmly believe—the you who thinks this way, definitely exists. You have a ’future’."

...Future, again.

Su Ming’an was tired of hearing her say that; his ears were practically calloused.

He felt as if there was always a thin membrane separating his conversation with Hui Shuhang, like looking at flowers through fog, their words never quite aligning.

He stepped away from the alley entrance, preferring the outside laughter and chatter, and finally made up his mind. After walking for a short while, he pointed to a clothing store and said, "Come in with me to take a look."

"Alright." Hui Shuhang always put his wishes first and accompanied him to the store.

While walking on the road, ready to enter the shop, he suddenly felt the energy around Hui Shuhang surge violently, and then he heard a particularly shrill voice:

"Pseudo army—you die!!!"

"Boom!"

Another tremor of the ground, and the bustling crowd instantly fell silent.

The surroundings were eerily quiet.

Su Ming’an turned around and saw a skeletal child, pressed hard against the ground by Hui Shuhang’s energy, with a pool of fresh red blood spreading on the ground. In the child’s hand was clenched a broken dagger.

Looking at the quality of the dagger, it was uncertain if it could kill anyone.

The child, pressed to the ground, seemed desperate to stand up. His struggles were violent but only brought about a further spread of the bloodstain.

Hui Shuhang wanted to kill him outright, but Su Ming’an raised his hand, stopping her.

"—You took away my father, my brother, leaving only my mother and me. My mother washed clothes all day long, and the money she earned was not even enough to fill our stomachs... Then the pseudo army came again, took my mother too. Are you satisfied now? Uncle Tom, Auntie Jelene... our whole village is gone!"

The child’s clothes looked very old, as if he begged for a living in the city, his expression was crazed yet filled with fear, like a rush of hot blood suddenly meeting the cowering reality of death.

When he saw that Su Ming’an did not order his execution, he immediately spilled out all his words.

"—You levy taxes at random, and snatch people away at the first sign of war. We have nowhere to go and are about to be unable to survive, yet you look so complacent..." The child’s teeth clenched with hatred: "Now you’re putting on a good show of being kind, just a hypocrite! What? Everyone is watching you now, so you dare not kill me directly?"

Su Ming’an looked around; the vendors who had been selling their wares, the passersby who had stopped to watch the commotion—all lowered their heads under his gaze, afraid of bringing trouble upon themselves.

Even with the child’s heartrending accusations, not a single person said anything more.

"Truly disgusting rats," Hui Shuhang said, her energy becoming even more violently turbulent, pressing the child down even further, his face turning red, unable to utter another word.

Su Ming’an knew this situation all too well. The magic of the Otherworld seemed beautiful, satisfying all fantasies of great strength. But when this situation truly existed, the vast gap in power would infinitely stretch the class divide.

With class solidified, those in power could easily execute the lives of those beneath them. Because of the great disparity in strength, those below couldn’t even rebel.

If they could not awaken an ability that would allow them to turn the tables, they would probably live their lives in constant fear and submission.

That’s why... Su Ming’an finally understood how important the results of Qin Wang’s experiments were.

But the Holy Initiation Your Majesty was still eager to eliminate him.

Perhaps, that Majesty did not want such achievements to be spread across the Continent, undermining his rule. The experimental results would be tightly clenched in his hand, facilitating his expansion of territories, the development of new forces, and the construction of a new "Prosperous Era".

"— ’I hope, one day, my achievements will spread across every corner of the continent like the wind.’ "

Facing the child’s resentful gaze, Su Ming’an spoke these words in an extremely soft tone, barely audible.

But Hui Shuhang heard them.

She tilted her head, the energy in her hands slightly relaxing, a look of confusion in her expression.

" ’I want every person to be able to stand alive on the wasteland, for them not to kneel and bow down any longer, for their blood not to be spilled meaninglessly into the soil. I want those who flee to escape the warfare, and those who return, the wanderers, to have homes to come back to.’ "

" ’— I will walk toward a grand death, but I want the newly born orioles, children who no longer cry, and people overwhelmed with gratitude to sing in front of my grave.’ "

Su Ming’an slowly finished these words, tapped the palm of his hand, and smiled:

"...So that’s how it is, I understand now."

"What?" Hui Shuhang asked, her hand slowly lowering.

The child scrambled to his feet from the ground, seeming to have abandoned the impulsive intention to charge forward again; he cast Su Ming’an a somewhat surprised glance, then picked up the worn dagger and dashed out without looking back.

The crowd began to move slowly, but no one dared to look in this direction anymore, they lowered their heads, everyone for themselves, as if purposely avoiding them, creating a wide circle around Su Ming’an.

"The reputation of the Regular Army doesn’t seem very good." Su Ming’an knew the "fake army" the child mentioned referred to the Regular Army.

"The masses are always foolish, they do not understand the importance of ." Hui Shuhang reassured him: "War is a necessary sacrifice to combat those disorderly Revolutionary forces."

"— So what then do the Revolutionary Army stand for?"

Su Ming’an murmured.

Hui Shuhang blinked, her hand tightened, but she remained silent.

"Dead Loop." Su Ming’an said: "In this type of pathological order, there will only be an endless emergence of Revolutionary forces, and then, there will also be endless Regular forces sent to suppress them..."

"I let that child go, hatred will take root in his heart, and when he joins the Revolutionary Army in the future, he will remember the shame of this day, and then, repay this hatred to the Regular Army enemies standing in his way."

"— But those of the Regular Army, they are clearly also conscripted from his village, innocent people."

"He thinks that under his blade will be the enemy that deserves death, he believes he has avenged those who were taken to be soldiers, but not so."

"His hatred will ultimately only return to the very people he most wanted to save, including himself."

"The blade’s direction sometimes is not only towards the enemy. There is fundamentally no difference between the Regular Army and the Revolutionary Army; he is merely a blade used at the hands of those in power."

"This child will only end up, in the future, killing the very person he once was—unless there is a moment when this war comes to a complete stop, no matter which side wins."

He spoke and slowly walked into the clothing store.

Hui Shuhang’s eyelids drooped, and then, the oriole suddenly appeared on her shoulder.

"Your Majesty." She watched as Su Ming’an blended into the shadows within the store and then gently spoke to the oriole on her shoulder:

"...Can’t we trust His Highness just once? If it’s His Highness..."

Only silence answered her.

She suddenly started coughing violently; after tucking away the bloodstained handkerchief, her expression gradually firmed.