Another madman.
Wang Xiaomie sighed in pity as he watched Bai Yu go from shock and disbelief in front of him, to muttering to himself and finally screaming wildly.
He, this puppet who had no self-awareness in the eyes of others and couldn’t speak, became the best outlet for venting.
Tears streamed down Bai Yu’s cheeks as he clutched the photo and pocket watch to his chest, kneeling beside the chair where Wang Xiaomie sat, even breathing seemed difficult for him.
Seeing his distress, Wang Xiaomie sighed, observing a moment of silence for him: Seeing your own husband become your grandfather in the blink of an eye, and the rival is your grandmother; whoever experiences this wouldn’t be able to bear it.
After crying for a while, Bai Yu grabbed Wang Xiaomie’s paw and shouted with heart-wrenching sobs, “Why! Why! This can’t be happening! How is this possible—ahhh!”
Wang Xiaomie: “…”
Ouch, ouch, my paw hurts!
Bai Yu fell apart completely, letting out a soul-wrenching roar, “He’s actually my grandfather, he’s actually my grandfather! Why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t he tell me!”
Wang Xiaomie: Tragic, this is just tragic.
Bai Yu: “I regarded him as the person I love the most, but he treats me like a grandson!”
Wang Xiaomie: …………
Wang Xiaomie: We puppets are professionally trained. No matter how funny it is, we won’t laugh, unless—
“I actually have to call him grandfather…”
The genuine grandson Bai Yu cried even more sadly.
“Pfft!”
Bai Yu was taken aback, suddenly looked up, Wang Xiaomie still had lifeless eyes and a vacant expression, sitting there not knowing what he was looking at.
Did I mishear it?
Bai Yu frowned and hung his head, continuing to sob broken hearted. He didn’t see that as soon as he lowered his head, Wang Xiaomie’s face instantly contorted, his muscles twitching as he struggled to hold back his laughter.
“He took me as his disciple, teaching me the craft of a craftsman without reservation, providing me with food and shelter, caring for me by giving me warm milk every day, even washing my clothes, taking me to amusement parks and movies…”
“Lately, he’s been growing more distant, and those words he said…”
No wonder… no wonder!
From the beginning, Yi Yan knew, but he had been hiding it from himself…
Bai Yu cried so bitterly that his whole body trembled. He realized he had misunderstood Yi Yan’s kindness. Yi Yan never had those intentions toward him; he had always treated him lovingly as the younger generation, only distancing himself after realizing Bai Yu’s feelings…
An inexplicable sense of shame, anger, and mocking pain enveloped him.
As if someone was whispering mocking words in Bai Yu’s ear: ‘How absurd, falling in love with your own elder.’
That groundless voice echoed in Bai Yu’s ears like a demonic voice. A surge of hatred rose in his heart, but he became confused again.
Whom to hate?
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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“I didn’t hesitate to poison Xiaomie to help him, betraying a good friend, and this is the result? I just wanted a home… I just wanted to spend my life with the person I love, and have a complete family…”
Bai Yu suddenly laughed, his laughter growing louder and louder. His eyes were red and puffy, his expression vacant, as if he had gone mad.
Seeing him like this, Wang Xiaomie couldn’t bring himself to laugh anymore, shaking his head inwardly.
They say fate plays tricks, turning clever plans into foolish ones. In the past, he used to laugh at those plots in TV dramas and novels where ‘the loved one turns out to be a relative.’ He used to mock how anything could be filmed or written these days, how absurd those storylines were. But now?
Right in front of his eyes, a live enactment unfolded.
From an outsider’s perspective like Wang Xiaomie’s, Yi Yan could indeed be blamed for this fiasco.
What was Yi Yan hiding? Even if you didn’t say anything before, at least disclose it when you took Bai Yu as your apprentice! But he kept mum!
Now it’s all messed up, and your grandson is bent!
Wang Xiaomie sighed: What kind of situation is this!
Bai Yu sat there, crazed, crying and laughing for half a day.
After a few hours, he staggered to his feet, looking lifeless. Probably numb from sitting for so long, he limped out without even glancing at Wang Xiaomie.
After he left, Wang Xiaomie blinked, relieved. Finally, he didn’t have to pretend anymore. He still felt a bit worried about him, and glanced at the staircase.
To be honest, he still felt disappointed and angry with Bai Yu, but not to the extent of hating him to death. Seeing Bai Yu like that, Wang Xiaomie felt some sympathy, and he was also afraid that Bai Yu might do something foolish in a moment of despair.
After all, Bai Yu seemed carefree and silly on the surface, but in reality, he was quite stubborn, clearly an expert at wild goose chase.
A day passed.
The next day, Bai Yu’s upper eyelids were red and swollen like two blisters, his round eyes reduced to mere slits, and dark circles formed under his eyes, indicating a night of crying.
However, his facial expression was grim, devoid of the previously silly and cute smile that showed sparkling teeth, making him seem like a completely different person.
When he arrived, he controlled the puppet to address Wang Xiaomie’s physiological needs before silently leaving again.
This version of Bai Yu was rather intimidating, making Wang Xiaomie nervous, wondering if Bai Yu would pick a fight with Yi Yan when he returned.
Another day and a half passed, and Yi Yan returned.
From the wooden staircase on the second floor came the thudding sound of footsteps. Bai Yu came, controlling the puppet to take Wang Xiaomie downstairs without a word. Upon reaching the ground floor, Wang Xiaomie noticed that Yi Yan, whose clothes were already dirty, was sitting on a wooden chair drinking tea. Next to him was a large white cloth sack.
There was an indescribable putrid smell emanating from him, a mixture of blood, soil, rust, and various other odors, even accompanied by a bitter fragrance.
Moreover…
Wang Xiaomie quickly glanced at the living room and outside the wide-open door; there was not a single car parked.
There was no one else. Not a single one of the over twenty tomb raiders returned, except for Yi Yan…
A chill ran down Wang Xiaomie’s spine.
What surprised him even more was that Bai Yu was still standing by Yi Yan’s side. Though not as close as before, there were no signs of a fight or any argument between them.
Did Bai Yu really not tell Yi Yan that he had discovered the truth? Why not?
Wang Xiaomie couldn’t figure it out.
“Did anything happen while I was away?” He asked softly, though his tone betrayed exhaustion, turning his head slightly to look at Bai Yu.
“No, nothing,” Bai Yu shook his head.
Yi Yan nodded. “I’ve sustained some injuries and I’m tired. Ask Xiao An to pick a room and lock them up. Once I’ve tended to my wounds, we can prepare to receive our guests.”
Bai Yu replied, “Alright.” Yi Yan set down his teacup, stood up, and walked upstairs. Bai Yu, with a cold expression, walked out and called Xiao An. He controlled Wang Xiaomie, while Xiao An carried the large white cloth sack. Together, they found a nearby room, casually stuffed the sack and Wang Xiaomie inside, and then left.
The wooden door creaked shut, and they locked it from the outside before withdrawing.
Wang Xiaomie listened intently until their footsteps faded away. Then, he blinked his eyes, which had been dull, and in an instant, they sparkled with life, as bright and lively as the stars.
He whispered to the sack on the floor, “Hey, are you okay? Are you still alive?”
The sack moved slightly, and from the loosened opening emerged a withered hand covered in purple, stiff hairs.
Sure enough… An Xie’s family’s little emperor had been captured too.
Wang Xiaomie smiled softly and said in a low voice, “Old pal, you're here~”
The ghostly hand, covered in purple hairs, stiffened for a moment, then waved forcefully a few times. The sack began to shake, but the opening was only loosened enough for a hand to pass through. The person inside the sack didn’t know what to do. Little Purple Hair attempted to scratch with its nails for a long time, but it couldn’t do much inside the sack.
“Roar—”
Purple Hair emitted urgent and nervous roars, making Wang Xiaomie afraid that it might attract the attention of their captors, so he quickly tried to calm it down.
“Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid! An Xie and Wen Fengjin will definitely come to find us. That man won’t harm us for the time being. Just endure it a little longer!”
Purple Hair’s struggling movements lessened.
“Roar—”
It let out another low roar, then began making strange noises, as if trying to communicate with Wang Xiaomie.
Wang Xiaomie sighed, “Sorry buddy, although I may look like a zongzi, I really can’t understand zongzi language. Anyway, don’t worry, we’ll definitely get out of here.”
“Roar…”
Purple Hair’s voice sounded despondent, and the sack stilled, looking rather pitiful.
Seeing that no one was around, Wang Xiaomie stopped pretending. He moved his body with difficulty and sat down beside Purple Hair, patting its shoulder to comfort it.
Looking at the faint light seeping through the small wooden door, he felt a sense of desolation.
“Iron door, iron bars, iron chains~ Sniff sniff sniff, Xiao Wenzi, where are you…”
“Sigh~”
… … …
After receiving the thick letter at Yi Yan’s house that day, Wen Fengjin glanced at it and then threw it away. It contained nothing but a jumble of clues directing him to Qishan.
Having already anticipated everything, Wen Fengjin wasted no time and headed straight for An Xie’s tomb.
So, when Yi Yan expected him to arrive in at least four days, Wen Fengjin reached his destination in just three.
Wen Fengjin didn’t immediately go to find Wang Xiaomie. Instead, he went straight to An Xie’s underground tomb.
The moss-covered tomb passage bore traces of various traps and mechanisms set off by tomb raiders, along with some equipment left behind by them.
Although this tomb palace wasn’t as grand and magnificent as Wen Fengjin’s, it was still a joint tomb for a general and an emperor. It wasn’t small inside and was designed quite intricately.
Wen Fengjin, clad in black boots and a crimson robe, stepped over the corpses and pools of blood on the ground with casual elegance.
When he saw An Xie leaning against the coffin, kneeling with a spear in hand, surrounded by dead zombie soldiers and tomb raiders, Wen Fengjin raised his pink lips in a smirk.
He stopped and asked in a casual tone to the bowed-head and closed-eyed An Xie, “Dead yet?”
Covered in blood and scars, An Xie lifted his head, his youthful general’s smile still bright.
“No,” he said, “Still breathing.”
The clinking of armor filled the air as An Xie stood up, supporting himself with his spear, stretching his body. Despite his smile, his eyes were cold as frost.
“My little emperor has been captured,” he said.
Wen Fengjin: “Mn. So has my shixiong.”
The two men, both who lost their wives, exchanged a glance and let out a scoff.
“Proceed with the plan?”
“Yes.”
“Good… This time, I must kill him to eliminate any future troubles. Otherwise, wouldn’t we be losing both wife and army?”
An Xie’s tone grew slightly somber as he leaned against the coffin with his spear, looking at the person beside him.
Seeing Wen Fengjin remain silent, he raised an eyebrow: “Aren’t you worried? You seem so calm.”
“I am naturally worried,” Wen Fengjin replied, also leaning against the coffin. His expression grew cold, his long and narrow eyes sharpening, and the blood-red tattoo on his forehead became even more vivid.
He muttered, “My shixiong has been gone for nearly four days…”
“Tsk! Calm down, don’t take it out on me. I still have a hole in my stomach that hasn’t healed,” An Jie said. Rubbing his chin, he then asked, “When should we set off?”
Wen Fengjin turned his head.
“Tomorrow.”
“Good!”
