Failure Was Not the End; Giving Up Was

"That's right, you shouldn't feel bad! How can you feel good after losing?"

Zhou Yunyi called out from behind, his voice filled with an uncontrollable sense of exhilaration.

As she spoke, she nudged Zhao Lingyun beside her, her eyes shining brightly. "Did you just see that? I actually survived that situation!"

"This is the fastest I've ever been!"

Perhaps it was the joy of victory, or perhaps it was finally mastering the Feathered Human Transformation.

He became more and more excited as he spoke, gesturing wildly.

In short, he now finds everything pleasing to the eye, even Zhao Lingyun's grumpy face seems more agreeable.

He completely forgot about the bruises on his neck, the wound under his ribs, and the near-crushing of his throat.

Zhao Lingyun stumbled from the slap, grimacing as he rubbed his shoulder.

"I see you, I see you, stop shaking me..."

While rubbing, he turned around and looked behind him.

On the arena, Ye Lingchuan was dealing with the remaining situation.

Tentacles emerged from the coffin and arranged the remaining limbs of Yan Wujin, Yun Zexuan, and Li Xuan.

This will make it easier for me to revive later.

We won, but it felt unreal.

They actually did it.

"Chu Wujiu, you're very happy."

A white figure gracefully descended from the stands.

Li Qingluan's clothes fluttered, her white skirt like a cloud, and her black hair swayed gently in the evening breeze.

She landed very lightly, making almost no sound when the tips of her shoes touched the ground.

But the chill emanating from him was far more piercing than any of the killing moves that had just struck him on the stage.

Chu Wujiu had just opened his mouth, but before he could utter a sound, the girl glared at him.

"Seven against one is bad enough, but to launch a sneak attack is even worse."

Li Qingluan paused.

The voice wasn't loud, but everyone present could hear it clearly.

"You have the nerve to laugh after winning like this?"

As she spoke, she walked in front of Qin Wangchuan, blocking the view of Chu Wujiu and the others.

He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something more.

A hand reached out from behind and gently took her hand.

Li Qingluan was startled and turned her head.

Qin Wangchuan lay among the rubble, and after meeting her gaze, he spoke:

"A loss is a loss."

His voice was soft, tinged with amusement.

"Don't make me a sore loser."

Li Qingluan hesitated for a moment, but ultimately did not answer.

She slowly squatted down, reaching one hand behind Qin Wangchuan's back to help him up.

The moment her fingertips touched it, she paused.

Warm blood welled up between his fingers, stickily coating his palms.

Qin Wangchuan shook his head and didn't move.

My back hurts terribly.

"Lie down for a while."

Li Qingluan knew he was in pain, but she still forcibly turned him over and took out a plaster from her sleeve.

He glanced at it only once, then stopped again.

The gash on his back ran from his shoulder blade all the way to his waist, the flesh torn open, and the bone was visible.

Gravel was embedded at the edge of the wound, stuck to the flesh and blood.

It was several times more serious than she had imagined.

My fingers trembled slightly.

Li Qingluan took several deep breaths before she managed to resist standing up and slapping Chu Wujiu.

Silently putting away the plaster, he waved to signal the Li Clan on the high platform to come and receive treatment.

But the Qin Clan was faster.

"Happy?"

Chu Wujiu's lips twitched, as if he wanted to laugh, but he didn't.

"Happy."

He repeated the word.

"Yes."

I thought I would be happy.

The voice was soft, tinged with self-deprecation.

After saying that, he lowered his head and looked at his hands, which were still bleeding.

We won.

We really won.

He imagined that the moment he won would be filled with ecstasy, laughter, and the urge to jump for joy.

But when the moment actually arrived, what surged in my chest was not joy.

It's something more complex.

Chu Wujiu clenched his fists instinctively, causing the wound that had just dried to reopen, and blood seeped out from between his fingers.

Pain.

But he felt the pain came at just the right time.

Zhou Yunyi's extreme speed, Yun Zexuan's scheming, Ji Wuchen's restraint, Zhao Lingyun's talisman, Ye Lingchuan's coffin... everyone's lives were on that one strike.

He was simply the one who swung that halberd last.

They were fighting seven against one; they didn't even consider fairness.

The Qin Wangchuan mountain is too high.

Just one win is enough.

Once is enough.

That's how it should have been.

But people are like that.

Once you win, you want to win a second time.

Once you win a second time, you want to win a third.

It will never end.

Thinking of this, Chu Wujiu looked up at Qin Wangchuan's back.

The man was lying in the rubble, covered in injuries and in a sorry state.

But he knew that the next time they met, this person would be even stronger.

How strong is it?

Have no idea.

Is it stronger than I ever imagined?

Very likely.

A sense of urgency suddenly gripped his throat.

From that moment on, Chu Wujiu began to think—

"How can I win next time...?"

How can we keep winning?

The voice wasn't loud; it sounded like it was being spoken to itself, or perhaps to the person on the ground.

"Right now, this is all I can think about."

Qin Wangchuan was still lying on the ground, looking up at the sky.

"I hadn't really thought of that, but I might next time."

He paused.

"But..."

"I used to think, I've won so many times, losing once won't be a big deal."

But when that moment actually comes...

"So, there's still a sense of resentment."

The moon had peeked out from behind the clouds at some point, its cool light falling on his face.

Qin Wangchuan raised his head, gazing at the moon, his voice soft.

"What if we realized it at the last minute..."

"No. Sooner, much sooner would have been better."

Li Qingluan remained silent.

Her snow-white knees bent, and she knelt amidst the rubble.

The skirt was spread out, stained with dust and blood.

She gently lifted Qin Wangchuan's head and placed it on her lap.

She gently brushed her fingertips past the bloodstains on the side of his ear, her movements careful, as if afraid of aggravating the injury on his back.

Chu Wujiu watched this scene unfold.

To be precise, he looked at Qin Wangchuan, a smile gradually appearing on his lips.

There was no mockery or smugness in that smile, only a strange tenderness.

It's like looking at my former self.

"I'm not reconciled."

He repeated it in a low voice, as if confirming the meaning of the word.

"Yes, I'm not reconciled."

"What was that saying again?"

"Failure is not the end; giving up is."

"Qin Wangchuan, I knew you would catch up. You definitely would."

Chu Wujiu stood up and took a few steps away.

Each step crunched on the gravel.

Then he stopped, turned his back to Qin Wangchuan, tilted his head slightly, and smiled:

"But until then—you'll be a defeated opponent for now."

"Just like we used to be."

Moonlight fell on Chu Wujiu's shoulder, and on his straight back.

Once, this figure chased after Qin Wangchuan, only to be left behind time and time again, only to catch up again and again.

And now, he stands in front.

Zhao Lingyun and Ji Wuchen exchanged a glance, chuckled softly, and turned away as well.

Without hesitation, without looking back, it was as if they had planned it beforehand.

"Defeated opponent, that's a good phrase."

"It may have been a bit underhanded, but this time, we truly won."

Zhou Yunyi hurriedly followed, but after taking a few steps, she hesitated and turned back. "It was Yun Zexuan's idea, don't hold a grudge."

Under the moonlight, four figures stood side by side.

They were once pursuers, defeated opponents, and those who could never catch up with that monster.

And now, they are standing in front.

Qin Wangchuan lagged behind.

There was a deathly silence in the stands.

Many people huddled together, but no one spoke.

Someone had their mouth open and forgot to close it.

Someone was gripping the railing, their knuckles turning white.

Some people stared at the figure lying in the rubble, forgetting to even breathe.

"Am I seeing things?" someone murmured, their voice unusually clear in the silence.

"Qin Wangchuan... lost?"