Brother and Sister

The goblins stared at the large canvas bundle on the ground, their small, yellowish eyes filled with greed. With a guttural "Guga," the goblin leader swung its iron sword, and the entire pack surged forward in a chaotic swarm.

Chen Jinyang had often seen goblins—those short, wretched creatures—in the novels and games of his past life. Whether in fiction or reality, they were clearly destined to be cannon fodder. Chen Jinyang felt not a shred of fear. He thrust and parried with his wooden spear, piercing the throat of the lead goblin and tossing it aside. Using the momentum, the spearhead whipped around to shatter the skull of another, then he stepped forward, spun, and unleashed a series of thrusts that struck three more goblins in the face. Although his current body limited his range of movement, Chen Jinyang had taken down five in the first exchange. Within a few breaths, four were dead and one had a cracked skull, wheezing on the ground near death. Chen Jinyang stood with his back to a large tree, flanked by meter-high protruding roots; the space only allowed four or five goblins to attack abreast. Goblins lacked the "wave after wave" tradition of revolutionary martyrs; as soon as the front line fell, the ones behind panicked, halting their advance and cowering, much to the frustration of their leader, who shrieked and stomped in rage.

Seeing his opening, Chen Jinyang let out a roar and charged into the fray. His footwork remained fluid, his wooden spear thrusting, sweeping, and stabbing. In one breath, he wounded over a dozen goblins, terrifying the survivors to their very cores. The goblin leader stood frozen in shock. Never had they encountered such a monstrous opponent. They had seen powerful warriors before, but even the strongest would only swing a sword once or twice, perhaps taking down three or four before the rest escaped. This man, however, had decimated more than half of their thirty-strong group in the blink of an eye, leaving them no time to even flee.

The remaining goblins scattered into the dense forest like a swarm of bees. Chen Jinyang couldn't be bothered to chase them. The leader, however, was somewhat interesting; while the others had fled, it stood its ground, remaining motionless even when the wooden spear was pointed at its nose. When the leader finally snapped out of its stupor, the blood-stained tip of the spear was poking right in front of its eyes. Its sphincter tightened, and it nearly lost control of its bowels in terror.

(The goblin leader wept: I didn't want to! I was just too scared to move, or I would have run away long ago! Who would dare move with a spear pointed at their head? Look at the blood and gore on that tip—that's a lesson written in blood! Even if I wanted to move, I couldn't; my legs have turned to jelly.)

Chen Jinyang held the spear, ready to finish the leader off, but the creature suddenly dropped its sword and knelt, removing its bull-horned helmet with both hands. It offered the helmet up with a "Gugu-gaga" sound, its expression as sincere as a rutting knight presenting a rose to a beautiful princess, its movements as practiced as if rehearsed a hundred times. The gesture caught Chen Jinyang off guard; it seemed the monsters here possessed higher intelligence than he thought, even knowing how to surrender. The ogre he had killed in a few breaths previously hadn't shown any such wit, so this was a new experience.

With interest, he picked up the bull-horned helmet. It looked quite unique, though it reeked. It wouldn't be bad to wash it and give it to Mishaer as a gift. As he pondered this, Chen Jinyang felt a chill at his feet. He looked down to see the goblin leader hugging his large foot and licking it frantically.

"What the hell! What kind of pathetic behavior is this?" Disgusted, Chen Jinyang kicked the leader away.

The goblin leader flew several meters, clutching its head and whimpering "Gugu" on the ground. Feeling bored, Chen Jinyang ignored the dead and wounded, wiped the blood and gore from his spear, picked up the iron sword the leader had dropped, and returned to the tree to stow it in his bundle. He carried the helmet in his left hand and the spear in his right, then turned to leave.

Chen Jinyang hadn't gone far when he looked back to see the goblin leader trailing behind him. "Get lost! Don't make me beat you!" Chen Jinyang threatened, feigning a strike with his spear.

Though the goblin leader couldn't understand his words, it understood the gesture. It scurried behind a tree, waiting until Chen Jinyang was further away before peeking out and gingerly following him again.

By the time the sun began to dip in the west, Chen Jinyang finally caught sight of Gnome Village. High walls built from thick logs protected the entire village, revealing only the tops of wooden watchtowers and half-hidden roofs. A wide dirt road separated the village from the jungle, and two militiamen holding spears patrolled the walls, ever vigilant against threats from the forest.

Chen Jinyang glanced behind him and smiled, checking if he had missed anything. Right! The large bundle can be explained as salvage, but a fool who survived a disaster shouldn't look too clean, and the blood-stained spear and helmet shouldn't be visible.

He jammed the wooden spear into the ground behind a tree and stuffed the helmet into the bundle, assuming they wouldn't open it to check. He rubbed dirt over his body, smearing his face and forehead thoroughly. After a few adjustments, Chen Jinyang looked like a refugee from a war-torn land who had just crawled out of a gopher hole after being thoroughly roughed up.

Refugee! Or rather, Chen Jinyang dragged his oversized bundle and carried the wooden bucket toward the village gate. The patrolling militiamen saw a traveler emerging from the forest, lugging a massive bundle and running for his life. Their hearts tightened as they stared at the forest edge, one of them reaching for a wooden mallet to sound the alarm.

By the time Chen Jinyang reached the gate, nothing stirred in the forest except for a single goblin that briefly poked its head out at the edge of the trees. Puzzled, the militiaman on the wall called down to the filthy giant below:

"Friend from afar, what has happened?"

"Oh! By Tempus! William! It's William! You're still alive!"

"Oh! Poor little William! Look at how dirty you are. Where is your hair? What terrible thing happened to you?" The two militiamen recognized William instantly. Even without his eyebrows and hair, and with his face covered in mud, the familiar, vacant grin was enough for them to identify the village's resident "big fool."

Only William could be pathetic enough to be chased out of the woods by a single goblin. We'll have something new to talk about at the tavern tonight, the two villagers thought to themselves.

Chen Jinyang looked up at the guards with the most innocent, sweet smile he could muster. Seeing their excitement and hearing their chatter, he finally let out a sigh of relief. He had passed the first hurdle.

The two militiamen scrambled down from the wall, opened the iron-reinforced wooden gate, and patted Chen Jinyang—who was nearly a head taller than them—welcoming him into the village with excessive enthusiasm. Watching the "overly helpful" guards, Chen Jinyang thought smugly, It seems this fool has quite a status in the village. Had he known the true reason for their warmth, he would have surely slapped them both into oblivion.

Chen Jinyang left the guards with a silly grin, clutching his bucket and bundle as he ran toward William's cabin.

Gnome Village was about the size of a football field. Near the gate stood a two-story wooden building—the Sailu Tavern. In front of the tavern was a clearing for wagons and stables, and behind it sat a row of small cabins. The one at the very end was William's home. Chen Jinyang reached the cabin, set down his bucket and bundle, and pushed open the slightly ajar door. Inside, a wooden bed lined with thick hay and covered by a tattered wool blanket sat against the wall. A little girl with fiery red curls knelt on the bed, her hands clasped to her chest, eyes closed in silent prayer. She wore an oversized grey linen tunic that could have served as a blanket. Her skin was so pale that the blue veins and bones beneath were visible, making her look heartbreakingly thin. Her delicate, pale face, set in a look of pious sincerity, was cute enough to bring tears to one's eyes. This must be William's little sister, Mishaer.

Looking at the frail Mishaer, Chen Jinyang felt a lump in his throat, and tears began to stream down his face uncontrollably. Why am I crying? Sniff! I'm a grown man! Sniff! This is so embarrassing! Chen Jinyang felt like he was going mad. The girl was pitiful, but not enough to make him burst into tears the moment he saw her. Yet, the tears flowed like a broken dam.

The little girl hadn't heard him push the door open, but the sound of his sniffling alerted her. She opened her red, swollen eyes to see a tear-streaked, mud-caked face, which startled her. Her small mouth trembled as if she were about to cry, but after a closer look, she recognized him:

"William! Wuwuwuwu!"

"William! Wuwu, little Mishaer thought she would never see you again!"

"William! Brother! I was so scared! Wuwuwu." Mishaer sobbed and lunged toward him. Chen Jinyang rushed forward to catch her, hugging her light, reed-like body, his tears flowing even harder as he matched the little girl's sobbing. Nearly losing his mind, Chen Jinyang held Mishaer with one arm and slapped his own thigh with the other.

"What is wrong with me! Ugh, ugh, ugh." A grown man crying like this—Chen Jinyang felt he had never been more embarrassed in his life.

Even if life is gone, even if the soul is scattered, the kinship flowing in the blood and the love carved into the bones... I still cannot forget. —The departed soul of William.

Chen Jinyang noticed Mishaer's sobbing growing quieter until it faded away entirely. He looked down to see her curled up in his arms, asleep. A faint smile lingered on her tear-stained face, looking so peaceful and serene.

Chen Jinyang lifted the sleeping girl onto the bed, touched her cold little hand, and pulled the blanket over her, only to find it scratchy and rough. With a heavy heart, he took off his own animal-hide tunic, wrapped Mishaer in it, and pulled a sleeping bag from the canvas bundle to tuck her in. Now shirtless, he scanned the room without a shred of shame. The cabin was about fifteen feet long and ten feet wide, containing a wooden bed, a three-foot table, an old chest, and two straw pallets in the corner. He found a pair of tattered pants in the chest and put them on, finally feeling decent.

He emptied the canvas bundle, layering the wool blanket and four sleeping bags over the straw pallets. He shoved the iron sword, dagger, portable pack, and canvas tent under the bed. He took the bucket to the stables to fetch water, intending to wash the bull-horned helmet. As for the mud on his body, he would have to wait for someone else to point it out so he wouldn't break character.