After Zhang Xilin left, he sat down beside Mo Shanshan, gazing blankly at her. In the past, no matter how dire the circumstances, he had always been able to recover his physical strength by closing his eyes for a brief period of light sleep.
Yet now, try as he might, he could not fall asleep. His mind felt like a tangled ball of yarn; no matter how he tried to untangle it, he could not change its chaotic state.
Why had he saved her in the first place? Perhaps even he could not clearly explain it.
Back then, the Zhang Family had fallen into ruin, and he, severely wounded and suffering from amnesia, had been hunted by masked men, forced to flee desperately all the way. The torrential rains that fell day after day had only added further misery to his already injured body.
The god exiled to the mortal world experienced not warmth for the very first time, but the sinister nature of human hearts.
Though the Zhang Family had long since decayed—hardly worthy of being called a family, let alone something associated with warmth—at least it had once been a place to rest his feet. That was still better than the present, when the world was so vast, yet there was not a single place left for him to belong.
Aside from the female voice in his mind calling out "Xiaoge" over and over again, he had never received even a shred of warmth from the world. Yet even the owner of that voice could not be found amidst the heavy mists of his memory—that was his mother, Bama.
The voice was very gentle, possessing a warmth far more intense than the campfire before him, briefly dispersing the bone-chilling cold that had constantly surrounded him.
At that moment, a woman he had crossed paths with once before while being hunted walked in. She bowed to him and softly asked if she could stay here for a little while. Zhang Qiling only felt that her voice was strikingly similar to the female voice that had been lingering in his mind.
He could not help raising his head to look, only to see that the woman was pale, drenched by the rain, and shivering continuously, looking thoroughly wretched.
He nodded to indicate his consent, and she sat by the fire to warm herself.
Afterward, he paid her no further mind, continuing to search the mists of his mind for the owner of that voice. After a long while, he found that no matter what, he could not remember who she was, nor could he recall her face. A sense of sorrow welled up in his heart, and he felt as though he had forgotten someone very important.
At that moment, the woman spoke again: "I am Mo Shanshan, from Mochi Garden, hunted here by pursuers. Thank you for taking me in. May I ask your esteemed surname?"
Zhang Qiling looked up at her, and the vague figure in his mind gradually merged with the woman before him...
Deep in the night, the ability to rest with his eyes closed that Zhang Qiling had cultivated over the years failed to bring him into a state of light sleep. He simply watched the woman curled up by the fire.
The campfire was nearly burned out, and the rain outside the cave showed no sign of letting up, so he added some more firewood.
When the eastern sky finally turned pale with the dawn, the rain finally stopped, and right at that moment, he heard a commotion from outside the cave. Without thinking, he knew the masked men had caught up once more.
Giving a glance at the woman still fast asleep, he got up and walked out of the cave.
After drawing the masked men away from the vicinity of the cave, Zhang Qiling eliminated them one by one, then returned to the cave with some dry firewood.
The next day, Mo Shanshan bid him farewell. Even though he knew the woman before him could not possibly be the owner of the voice in his mind, he still inevitably felt a wave of loss.
Loneliness and cold rushed back into his heart like a tide.
In the end, he could not bring himself to ask her to stay, nor did he have any reason to do so. Watching her retreating figure, he felt as though a piece of his heart had been hollowed out along with her.
In the days that followed, he was like a ship without a rudder, searching everywhere in the vast sea of humanity, yet never crossing paths with her again. The warmth he had once felt in the cave was like a shooting star in the night sky—fleeting and impossible to find again.
Until one day, when he discovered the traces of the masked men and instinctively went to investigate, he once again saw the woman named Mo Shanshan, and saw her driven to a desperate end by the masked men.
He stepped in to save her, and the reason was simple: he did not want her to die.
As he had done last time, Zhang Qiling quietly guarded her side, his gaze fixed upon her slightly frail form.
Her body trembled faintly, as if she were suffering from some kind of pain or unease. Only then did he realize that she was unique—she was never meant to be a replacement for anyone else.
A gentle breeze brushed against his cheek, bringing a trace of chill, but Zhang Qiling's heart remained shrouded in anxiety.
If she followed him, she might be implicated; yet if he left her behind alone, she would inevitably walk into the abyss of death.
In the end, Zhang Qiling still decided to take her with him. Although there would be danger, it was still better than being killed by the masked men.
In the days ahead, although the pursuers behind them grew increasingly numerous, he no longer felt the loneliness of before, and gradually grew accustomed to her companionship.
Until the final time, when he dealt with the pursuers alone and failed to catch up to her pace in time.
Even as he hoped she would ignore him and simply run away alone, he contradictorily left markers along the path.
In a turn of events that was both beyond his expectation and within it, she followed the markers he had left behind and found him.
Afterward, he remained unconscious, but the moment Mo Shanshan sensed her Natal Object, a strange connection formed between them. It was a feeling he had never experienced before, as if the two of them were tethered together by a single thread, allowing each to sense the other's presence no matter how far apart they were.
Yet the very instant that connection was forged, he heard her bidding him farewell once more. He abruptly realized that what he would lose in the future was not only his past memories, but also an important person.
Yet try as he might, he could not wake from his unconscious state.
Fortunately, heaven finally favored them once again; both of them were saved.
At noon the next day, after feeding her porridge just as he had done the day before, Zhang Qiling finally sat down at the table to eat.
Ever since he had rescued the two of them, Zhang Xilin had not asked about their backgrounds, but now he finally looked at the young man across from him and asked, "Young fellow, what is your name?"
"Zhang Qiling."
"What relation is that lass to you?"
After pondering for a long time without finding the right words, Zhang Qiling simply told the truth: "I don't know."
Zhang Xilin was slightly startled, muttered, "If you don't want to say, then forget it," and dropped the subject.
At that moment, Mo Shanshan awoke inside the room. She opened her eyes and looked around, but did not see Zhang Qiling. Anxiously, she wanted to get up and check, but the moment she stood on her feet, the world spun before her eyes, and she was on the verge of collapsing to the ground. Hearing the commotion, Zhang Qiling rushed in and caught her.
As her vision cleared, she saw Zhang Qiling beside her, and immediately threw her arms around him, her voice choking with sobs as she said, "If you ever dare to go lure away the pursuers by yourself again, I'll die right here for you to see!"