Siblings

The goblins stared at the large canvas-wrapped bundle on the ground, greed filling their dull yellow eyes. With a guttural "Guga," the goblin chief swung its iron sword, and all the goblins charged forward in a noisy mob.

Chen Jinyang had often seen goblins, those short creatures, in the novels and games of his previous life. Whether in fiction or right before his eyes, they were always destined to be cannon fodder. Of course he wasn't the least bit afraid. He thrust and swept with the wooden spear in his hands. The goblin at the front was pierced through the throat and sent flying; the spearhead sprang onward, ripping open the head of another goblin beside it. Then he stepped in, turned, and thrust again, striking three more goblins in the face. His body kept him from using many of the moves he knew, but even so, he took down five enemies in an instant. In the space of a few breaths, four goblins were dead and the fifth had its skull split open. It lay on the ground groaning, not far from death. Chen Jinyang stood with his back to a tree, with raised roots over a meter high on either side. The narrow approach allowed only four or five goblins to stand abreast. Goblins had none of the self-sacrificing spirit of the revolutionary forebears of the Celestial Empire. As soon as the goblins in front fell, those behind them panicked and stopped in their tracks, cowering instead of advancing. The goblin chief shouted and stamped its feet in frustration.

Seeing his chance, Chen Jinyang let out a loud cry and charged into the goblin pack with his spear. His feet never stopped moving as he thrust forward and back, swept left and right, and wounded more than a dozen goblins in one breath. The rest were so terrified they nearly lost their souls, and the goblin chief stood frozen in shock. They had never seen anyone so monstrously strong. It wasn't as though they'd never encountered powerful warriors before, but even the strongest could only swing a sword to cut down one foe at a time, and at most would take three or four down before most of the goblins escaped with their lives. But this one—before they could even blink, most of the fewer than thirty goblins who'd come had already fallen. There wasn't even time to run.

The remaining goblins scattered into the woods, and Chen Jinyang couldn't be bothered to chase them. The goblin chief was a little interesting, though. All the others had fled, but it stood bravely where it was, not moving even with a wooden spear pointed at its nose. When the chief finally came to its senses, it found a blood-smeared spear tip poking right in front of its eyes. Its asshole clenched, and it nearly lost control of its bowels.

(The goblin chief wailed: "I didn't want this! I was so scared I forgot to run. Otherwise, I'd have been gone ages ago. But now there's a spear pointed at my head—who'd dare move? Look at the blood and flesh on that spearhead. That's a lesson written in blood! Even if I wanted to move, I couldn't. My legs won't obey me!")

Chen Jinyang gripped the wooden spear and pointed it at the goblin chief, ready to finish it off. Suddenly, the chief dropped its sword and knelt on the ground. It took off its horned helmet with both hands and held it out, babbling "gugu gaga" as though trying to say something. Its expression was as earnest as that of a lovestruck knight offering roses to a beautiful princess, and its movements were so practiced they seemed to have been rehearsed hundreds of times. The goblin chief's performance startled Chen Jinyang. So the monsters here were pretty intelligent—and surrender was a thing. The ogre he'd dealt with in a few breaths last time hadn't seemed particularly clever. This time, he'd learned something new.

With interest, he picked up the horned helmet the goblin chief had dropped. It looked rather distinctive, if a little smelly. He could take it back, wash it, and give it to Mishaer as a first-meeting gift. Just as he was thinking this, Chen Jinyang suddenly felt something cool at his feet. He looked down to see the goblin chief hugging his big foot and licking it.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Chen Jinyang shuddered in disgust and kicked the goblin chief away.

The goblin chief flew several meters before landing, then crouched on the ground, clutching its head and whimpering "gugu" pitifully. Chen Jinyang found the whole thing boring. Ignoring the wounded and dead goblins scattered on the ground, he wiped the flesh and blood off his spear, picked up the iron sword the chief had dropped, and returned to the tree. He stuffed the sword into the bundle and slung it over his back, put the horned helmet in the wooden bucket and carried it in his left hand, then turned and left with the spear in his right.

Chen Jinyang hadn't gone far when he looked back and saw the goblin chief following him. "Get lost! I'll whack you if you don't!" he said, making a show of swinging the spear as if to strike.

The goblin chief couldn't understand his words, but it understood the gesture. With a "ziliu," it bounced and scrambled behind a tree. It didn't dare show its head until Chen Jinyang had gone farther, then tiptoed after him.

The sun had begun to sink in the west by the time Chen Jinyang finally spotted Gnome Village. A tall wall of thick logs protected the entire village, with only the high wooden watchtower and the upper halves of the rooftops visible above it. A broad dirt road separated the village from the forest. Two militiamen carrying spears patrolled the wall, keeping watch for dangers from the Hidden Forest.

Chen Jinyang glanced sideways behind him and smiled faintly. He thought about whether he'd left anything out of place. Hmm. He could say he'd found the big bundle, but a fool who'd barely escaped disaster ought to be carrying next to nothing. And he shouldn't have a bloodstained wooden spear and a horned helmet, either.

He planted the wooden spear firmly in the ground behind a tree and stuffed the horned helmet into the bundle. They probably wouldn't open it up to check. Then he sprinkled dirt over himself and smeared it all over his face and forehead. After several rounds of fussing, Chen Jinyang had turned himself into an African refugee fleeing disaster—one who'd just crawled out of a groundhog burrow after being gang-raped.

African refugee! No, Chen Jinyang dragged the bundle, which was taller than half a person, and hurried toward the village gate with a wooden bucket in his arms. From far away, the patrolling militiamen saw a traveler fleeing the forest, racing toward them with a big bundle. They immediately tensed and fixed their eyes on the forest's edge. One of them picked up the wooden mallet beside him, ready to sound the alarm.

By the time Chen Jinyang reached the gate, the only sign of trouble had been a goblin peeking out from the edge of the forest. There had been no other movement. Puzzled, one of the militiamen stood on the wall and called down to the big man, covered in dirt:

"Friend from afar, what happened?"

"Oh! Tempus above! William! It's William! You're alive!"

"Oh, poor little William! Look at how filthy you are! Where's your hair? What terrible thing happened?" The two militiamen recognized William at a glance. Even without his eyebrows or hair, and with his face covered in dirt, that familiar foolish grin was enough for them to know him—the village's big fool, William.

"Only William would be so pathetic as to run away from a single goblin. We'll have a new story to tell over drinks at Sailu Tavern tonight." The two villagers knew exactly what had happened.

Chen Jinyang looked up at the two guards with the purest, sweetest smile he could manage. Seeing how excitedly they shouted and babbled at him, he finally breathed a sigh of relief. He'd made it through the first hurdle.

The two militiamen hurried down from the wall and opened the wooden gate reinforced with iron. Slapping the shoulder of Chen Jinyang, who was nearly a head taller than they were, they welcomed him into the village with great enthusiasm. Watching the two "overly helpful" militiamen, Chen Jinyang thought happily to himself, Looks like this fool has quite a bit of status in the village. If he'd known the real reason for their enthusiasm, Chen Jinyang would have slapped them dead with all his might.

Chen Jinyang left the two gatekeepers with a foolish grin, picked up the wooden bucket and bundle, and ran toward William's little wooden house.

Gnome Village was about the size of a soccer field. Near the gate stood a large, two-story wooden building—the Sailu Tavern. In front of the tavern was an open area for wagons and a stable. A row of little wooden houses where the villagers lived stood behind it, and the last one at the edge was William's home. Chen Jinyang set down the wooden bucket and canvas bundle in front of the house and gently pushed open the half-closed door. Inside, a wooden bed stood against the wall, covered with a thick layer of hay and an old wool blanket. A little girl with fiery red curls knelt on the bed, hands clasped before her chest, eyes closed as she prayed silently. Her oversized gray linen tunic could almost have been used as a blanket. Her skin was so pale that the blue veins and bones beneath it were nearly visible, and she was heartbreakingly thin. Her delicate, pale face and devout expression made her so adorable it hurt to look at her. This must be William's little sister, Mishaer.

Looking at the frail Mishaer, Chen Jinyang's nose stung, and tears welled up in his eyes. "Why am I crying? Hic! I'm a grown man! Hic! This is so embarrassing!" Chen Jinyang was going crazy. The little girl looked pitiful, sure, but not so pitiful that he should burst into tears the moment he met her. Yet the tears wouldn't stop flowing.

The little girl hadn't heard Chen Jinyang open the door. Only when she heard him sniffle did she realize someone else was in the room. She opened her red, swollen eyes and saw a big man with a tear-streaked, dirt-smeared face. Startled, she puckered her lips as though she were about to cry, but after looking at him a few times, she recognized him:

"William! Waaaaah!"

"William! Waaaaah! Mishaer thought she'd never see you again!"

"William! Big brother! I was so scared! Waaaaah." Mishaer cried as she tumbled off the bed. Chen Jinyang hurried over and caught her in his arms. Holding Mishaer's light, rush-thin body, he cried even harder, competing with the little girl to see who could cry more. Nearly driven to madness, Chen Jinyang held Mishaer with one arm and slapped his thigh with the other.

"What's wrong with me? Hic, hic!" Chen Jinyang had never been so embarrassed in his life as he was now, crying like this despite being a grown man.

Even if life itself ends, even if the soul is scattered to the winds, I still cannot forget the kinship that flows through my veins, the love carved into my bones.—William, the departed soul.

Chen Jinyang felt Mishaer's sobs growing softer until they finally faded away. Looking down, he saw that she had fallen asleep in his arms, curled up with her eyes closed. Her little face, still streaked with tears, wore a smile. She looked so peaceful and serene.

Chen Jinyang picked up the sleeping little elf and laid her on the bed. He touched her cold little hand and pulled over the blanket to cover her, only to find it rough and prickly. Heart heavy with grief, Chen Jinyang took off his animal hide and wrapped Mishaer in it, then pulled the sleeping bag from the bundle and tucked her inside it on the bed. With no clothes on to cover himself, Chen Jinyang looked around the room without a trace of shame. The wooden house was about fifteen feet long and ten feet wide. It contained a wooden bed, a three-foot table, and a battered wooden chest. Two grass pallets had been laid out in the corner. He found a pair of worn trousers in the chest and put them on, finally ceasing to stand around in the altogether.

He emptied the canvas bundle. He folded the wool blanket and four sleeping bags on the hay pallet, then shoved the iron sword, dagger, portable backpack, and canvas tent under the bed. Carrying the wooden bucket, he went to the stable to fetch water and wash the horned helmet. As for the mud on his body, he'd have to wait for someone else to point it out before he could avoid giving himself away.