Lie Zhanfeng takes the boy home after finding him in an unconscious state. He enters his small, humble dwelling, laying the boy carefully on the bed with a gentle yet deliberate motion. His face remains taut, his brow furrowed in concern as he observes the boy's pale face and the visible injuries. The boy's chest rises and falls shallowly, and his body is covered with bruises and cuts. Lie Zhanfeng knows that he can't just leave him here to die.
The tension in his jaw tightens as he assesses the boy's condition with his spiritual sense. Severe internal injuries. Blood stagnation. Internal bleeding. His face grows darker as he draws a grim conclusion: the boy's life is in jeopardy if left untreated. Still, he doesn't know who this boy is. He has no reason to help. Yet, his heart weighs heavily with guilt. He is not someone who easily gets involved, who jumps into others' problems. He's always been the type to stay out of things. But this time, the boy's suffering is too much for him to ignore. The quiet desperation emanating from the boy tugs at something deep within him—a flicker of compassion that he rarely acknowledges in himself.
Lie Zhanfeng's attitude towards this boy was no different from how he viewed Xie Dongyi, the villain in Conqueror of Hearts and Realm. Is there a possibility that he secretly enjoy this kind of role? Does he just like playing the role of a hero saving the poor and helpless?
Lie Zhanfeng stands there for a long while, conflicted. He is used to being alone, to not caring about anyone, but this situation is different. He doesn't want to be responsible for another's fate. He doesn't want the burden of a life in his hands. But, as the boy lies there so helplessly, his conscience nags at him relentlessly. After a moment, he finally sighs, the decision made. No more hesitation. He turns to leave the room, rubbing his forehead in frustration as he heads outside to gather the supplies necessary to heal the boy.
---
Later that night...
The room is dim, the only light coming from a small candle on the table beside the bed. Lie Zhanfeng is slumped in a chair next to the boy, his breathing slow and steady as he sleeps, his exhaustion from taking care of the boy evident. The room is still, except for the occasional rustling sound as the boy stirs.
Lie Zhanfeng's sharp senses immediately pick up on the movement. His eyes snap open. He sits up straight, his muscles tensing as he focuses. The boy is awake.
"You're awake," Lie Zhanfeng says, his voice rough from the weight of fatigue.
The boy doesn't respond at first, and Lie Zhanfeng, still unsure whether the boy is fully conscious, lets out a tired sigh as he rises from the chair. "I'll go heat up some food. You should rest. You're injured, so don't worry about anything."
Just as Lie Zhanfeng turns toward the door, he hears a faint voice, weak but clear.
"Thank you."
Lie Zhanfeng freezes. For a moment, he simply stares at the boy, who looks up at him with blurry eyes. A strange warmth spreads through him, and he turns back toward the bed, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"No worries."
Without another word, he exits the room, leaving the boy alone. Xie Dongyi's mind, however, races with thoughts. He tries to make sense of the situation, the kindness of this stranger.
---
Xie Dongyi lies still on the bed, the faint traces of exhaustion and pain pulling at his consciousness. His thoughts wander, swirling back through the events that led him here.
He is a direct descendant of the prestigious Xie family. The Xie Family is one of the four major families in the continent, a family revered by many for its strength and noble bloodline. When he was born, a celestial event occurred—an omen that many saw as a sign of greatness. People far and wide, especially the powerful figures in the cultivation world, believed that the boy was destined for an extraordinary future. His parents, renowned and respected, were seen as paragons of the martial world. Their fame grew with each passing day, and the family was admired.
But fate had other plans.
Before he could even remember, his parents died—both of them—within the treacherous depths of a secret realm. The sudden loss of such esteemed figures shook the entire family. Xie Dongyi was left an orphan at the tender age of one, taken in by his uncle who became the patriarch of the Xie family.
However, things were never the same. When he was five, his cousin, Xie Ruyue, succumbed to cold poison, and for reasons unknown to him, he was blamed. The family turned its back on him, calling him a curse, a bringer of bad luck. No matter how hard he tried to prove himself, to show that he wasn't responsible, the accusations only grew louder. His presence seemed to bring nothing but suffering to those around him.
At the age of seven, during the traditional sword platform ceremony—an event where all the young heirs of the Xie family were meant to demonstrate their worth by lighting the sacred platform—Xie Dongyi failed. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't ignite the flames. The elders, the family, and the entire clan turned their backs on him, and from that moment on, he was seen as an outsider. His failure was proof to everyone that he was nothing special, that his supposed great future was nothing more than an illusion. This incident only deepened his sense of isolation.
He continued to try. Despite being constantly pushed aside, Xie Dongyi worked tirelessly, studying cultivation techniques, but his progress was slow. By the time he reached adolescence, he had only managed to reach the second level of Qi training. His talent, if it could even be called that, was insufficient. He was nothing like his cousin, Xie Ruyue, whose talent was unmatched, nor like the other heirs who surpassed him at every turn. The more he tried, the more he seemed to fall behind.
As time passed, Xie Dongyi became accustomed to being trampled on, to being looked down upon. He learned to keep his distance from the others, from those who had once been family. His emotions became a locked box, something he couldn't understand or express. He grew cold and detached, never allowing anyone to get too close, because it seemed the world would only disappoint him.
His cousin, Xie Ruyue, was a constant enigma to him. He could feel that she clearly didn't like him, yet she would never let him go. She would demand that he follow her, without ever explaining why. He never argued, always acquiescing. After all, he thought, it was his fault. Everything bad that had happened to her—every misfortune, every setback—was somehow his fault. He believed it because that was what they told him. He bore that burden, even though he had no clue what he had done to deserve it.
Things changed when his uncle sent him to Westmount to accompany Xie Ruyue. During the journey, strange dreams began to plague him. At first, he thought nothing of them. After all, who would believe that dreams could have any bearing on the real world? But as the dreams continued, they became vivid, haunting, and more real than any dream should be. They were visions—visions of the future.
One vision, in particular, haunted him. In it, he saw himself locked in a dark room, drained of all his blood, his life slipping away. His uncle stood over him, a sinister smile on his face. The emotions in that vision—fear, anger, betrayal—seemed too real, too raw. He couldn't shake the feeling that it would come to pass. That one day, his uncle, the man who had raised him, would betray him.
He couldn't wait for that moment. He couldn't wait for the inevitable. Panic took hold of him, and he fled, running far from the family and the life he had known. He had to escape.
That was how he ended up here. In this town. Vulnerable, alone, and exposed. He didn't even understand why he was being targeted. The townspeople, driven by greed, had learned of his family's wealth and sought to take it for themselves. He couldn't defend himself in his weakened state.
But there was one person who had helped him. The young man had taken him in, treated his wounds, and kept him safe. He owed him. He didn't know how or why, but he knew he had to repay this kindness.
And yet, as he lay here on the bed, with no one left to turn to, Xie Dongyi couldn't help but wonder—where was his place in this world now? What was he supposed to do? What was his purpose? Would his fate be sealed, or could he carve out a new path for himself?
As the night grew darker, Xie Dongyi closed his eyes, the weight of the world pressing down on him, and for the first time in a long while, he didn't know where to go next.