The snowy night was soundless. Blazing flames rapidly spread through the wooden house drenched in lamp oil.
Scorching heat pressed against his skin. Qin Yi sat on the edge of the earthen kang, staring blankly out the window. The aimless snow seemed to sketch scene after scene across the heavens, surging toward him layer upon layer—the hoarse stammer, the sweet voice like wind chimes, all mingling with the crack of breaking firewood.
Qin Yi wanted to keep sitting here, but his body moved beyond his control.
He had to live...
Though he did not know what meaning there was in that,
Every corner of this body was screaming for survival.
Lowering his dark eyes, he gave the diary in his hand one last look, then placed it back on the square table where the girl had countless times rested her chin and stared at him in a daze. Tongues of flame curled up along the table legs.
Qin Yi slowly turned and walked outside without looking back. Leaving the burning wooden house, crossing the snow-covered little courtyard, carrying nothing with him, he dragged that frail figure straight toward the pitch-black Compassion Mountain.
Qin Yi knew he had many things to think about now.
Tuanzi, Meng Peijiu, Qin Ke, his own family background, his body's instinct to survive, that so-called ritual...
Many things had already linked together into clues in his mind, but right now, he only wanted to be like that idiot older sister of his—empty his mind, think of nothing, and muddle everything over with a foolish grin.
For the first time, he gave up thinking.
The night of flying snow was very dark. Qin Yi kept walking north. The unadorned mountain path was difficult to traverse, and without Spirit Resonance reinforcing him, his body soon began to feel