He stood there, silent as stone.
The wind stilled. No one moved.
Only the blood dripping from his palm remained in motion.
The pain of the severed arm, the screams, the market's cries—
All seemed distant, irrelevant.
It was as if he were waiting—
For a familiar voice to call his name,
For an illusion to embrace him,
For thunder to break the spell of this waking dream.
But what came instead
Was silence.
Emptiness.
Only one figure stepped forward—
Weak, trembling, yet unwavering.
She stood before him.
"Don't touch him again."
Smack—!
A sharp crack rang out, sudden and unprovoked.
The young wife had struck Xiao Chen across the face.
The crowd gasped, breath caught in their throats.
No one dared to look at what would come next.
To them, this boy was now a demon—
And demons do not forgive slaps.
But against all expectation,
The woman did not retreat.
Her arms trembled as she shielded her husband,
Her body barely holding together.
Yet in her tear-filled eyes burned a light—
Fierce, unyielding.
A light that would rather die than bend.
Xiao Chen froze.
In that instant, her gaze—
Overlapped with the one buried deep in his memory.
It was her.
The one who had vowed to guard the mountain village with him beneath the waning moon.
The one who had held his back upright through snow and storm.
The one who, in a past-life illusion, had whispered—
"I will never resent you."
His body trembled.
In his eyes, the starlight shattered—
Unleashing a whirlpool of madness.
He clutched his head,
Shaking violently,
Trying to drive out the illusion.
"It's not her… but why do her eyes… look so much like hers…"
His voice cracked, hoarse and broken.
Then, suddenly—
He raised his fist
And struck his own forehead.
Bang—!
Blood splattered.
Another blow.
Bang!!
He went berserk.
Punch after punch,
Hammering his skull as if to shatter the hallucination,
To tear himself free from the demon within.
His groans turned to beastly howls.
Until finally—
He could no longer endure.
A bitter taste rose in his throat.
He vomited a mouthful of thick, black blood
And collapsed to his knees.
The world fell silent.
His hands pressed against the ground,
Blood and sweat mingling on his brow.
His breath was ragged,
His consciousness like embers in a dying fire—
Flickering, but still alight.
But—he had awakened.
The crowd gathered at a distance,
Too afraid to approach,
Whispering among themselves:
"Has he gone mad…? Why did he suddenly attack?"
"His blood… look, it's black."
"Poisoned? No way…"
Most didn't understand.
To them, he was simply a boy who had lost his mind.
The woman helped her husband to sit against the wall,
Then, bracing herself,
She walked toward Xiao Chen.
Only she
Stared quietly at the blood in his palm.
Her eyes trembled.
A long-buried memory surfaced.
Black—
Not disease.
Not demonic corruption.
It was poison.
She suddenly remembered—
Years ago, she had been bitten by a venomous snake.
She'd nearly lost consciousness.
And it was him—
The man now collapsed beside her—
Who had risked his life,
Sucking the poison out mouthful by mouthful
To save her.
She had seen this same black blood then.
She knelt down,
Pulled a clean cloth from her sleeve,
And handed it to Xiao Chen.
"You've been poisoned, haven't you?"
She asked softly.
Xiao Chen lifted his eyes, dazed.
The haze of illusion still lingered in his gaze.
She continued:
"You're not mad… Someone set you up."
He froze.
His mind slowly began to refocus.
The illusion before him—
Scattered in the wind.
When he came to,
His first action wasn't to explain.
Instead—
He reached into his qiankun pouch,
Pulled out clean bandages and medicine,
And rushed to tend the young man's wounds.
His hands trembled.
His movements were slow,
But meticulous.
"I'm sorry… I… I didn't mean to…"
Suddenly, he dropped to his knees.
His forehead touched the ground.
Blood stained the dirt.
He bowed deeply,
Without hesitation,
To this pair of strangers.
"I lost control. I nearly destroyed you both…
If you want to punish me, curse me—do it."
The woman opened her mouth,
But her husband shook his head.
"Enough."
He said quietly.
His jaw clenched,
Knuckles pale,
As if suppressing something.
But in the end,
He only let out a long breath.
His gaze was calm.
No hatred.
Only pain—and understanding.
"It's enough that you're still alive."
The woman tried to speak,
But couldn't.
She lowered her head and wept.
Xiao Chen remained kneeling, unmoving,
Letting blood and sweat drip from his brow.
He didn't know—
This kneel
Wasn't for atonement.
It was to stop himself
From running away again.
Night deepened.
Only the wind remained on the street,
And the distant, broken barking of dogs.
Inside, the flickering lamplight cast shadows.
The young couple finally drifted into sleep,
Their pain heavy,
Their dreams still filled with quiet sobs.
That night,
Xiao Chen did not leave.
He sat silently outside their door.
His cultivation sharpened his hearing—
He heard every word inside.
The woman cried:
"Oh Heaven…
Do you know how hard he worked to become a guard in the county?
Since he was a child,
He said he wanted to protect me…
Protect this home…
Why did you do this to him…"
The man gave no reply.
Only silence.
A silence so deep,
It felt like a well—
Swallowing all pain
Without a sound.
Xiao Chen lowered his head.
His heart twisted like a blade.
He could have left.
No one would stop him.
But he didn't.
Not out of guilt—
But because somewhere deep in his soul,
A voice asked:
You hurt him.
Shouldn't you leave something behind…
To make it right?
The night grew darker.
Suddenly, the door creaked open.
The man stepped out, robe draped over his shoulders.
He walked alone into the courtyard,
Sat on the steps.
No tears.
No rage.
Only a numb exhaustion
So heavy it dulled even grief.
His eyes held no light.
As if that blade
Had severed more than flesh—
It had shattered a dream.
Just as he rose to return inside,
A shadow dropped silently from the rooftop.
Fast as a phantom,
It flashed before him.
Startled, the man opened his mouth—
But a hand gently covered it.
"It's me."
The figure whispered.
The man looked closely.
His face changed instantly.
It was the boy.
The one who had taken his right arm.
Instinctively, he stepped back.
His throat tightened.
His legs trembled.
"You… you dare come back?"
His voice shook.
Just three words—
But they carried a night's worth of fear and fury.
Xiao Chen didn't retreat.
He stepped closer.
His voice was low, steady:
"I'm sorry.
I know…
Nothing I do can make up for your pain."
"This—
Is the only thing I can leave behind."
He slowly raised his hand.
His fingers trembled faintly.
A soft light slid from his fingertips—
Silent,
And sank into the man's brow.
A faint silver mark bloomed there,
Like starlight falling,
Locking into his spiritual core.
As if some law of heaven and earth
Had quietly been rewritten.
From this moment on,
Life and death would hinge on this technique.
The man's eyes widened in shock.
He felt a powerful current surge into his sea of consciousness—
Within it:
A complete internal cultivation method,
Diagrams of meridian flow,
Formulas and martial techniques,
All vivid and precise.
"This is…?"
Xiao Chen spoke calmly:
"The inner sect techniques and martial arts of the Startrace Sect.
For outsiders to obtain them—
It meant severed hands and tongues."
"But you've already lost an arm.
And I… no longer have a sect."
The man's throat tightened.
He stared at Xiao Chen.
"Who are you?
Why give me this?"
Xiao Chen was silent for a moment.
Then he spoke softly:
"My name is Xiao Chen.
As for why…"
He paused,
Glancing toward the sleeping figure of the woman inside.
His voice drifted like wind:
"I hope you…
Can use it to guard her inch of peace."
With that,
He turned and walked away.
The wind lifted the edge of his robe,
Like a page of fate quietly closing.
In the night,
His figure was thin but upright,
His steps steady,
Without a glance back.
The man watched that silhouette for a long time,
Until his eyes grew wet.
He whispered:
"…I will."
When Xiao Chen left the village gate,
His back was long and silent,
As if burdened by something
That made it hard to breathe.
No one knew—
That after that night,
He carved a vow deep within his soul:
"If I lose control again,
Let my soul seal be severed.
Let her name remain unstained.
This vow is set—
Let my life-mark bear witness.
If broken,
Let stars fall and soul shatter."
"It wasn't madness.
It was the deepest pain in my heart—
The kind no one can touch."
He knew—
Once this vow was made,
His fate was no longer his own.
He would bury his soul beneath it.