RIIDMDR chapter 45

 

After lying down for only two minutes, Nan Xu felt sleepy again. He got up, carrying Zhixing on his back.

This time, the formation didn’t restrict his path. It was a familiar place, and he had walked this path to the summit not long ago. Nan Xu relied on his memory and headed for the summit.

The sun was high in the sky as he walked, remembering the taste of the wild fruit from his dream. He was terribly hungry. Although only half a day had passed, he felt as if he hadn’t eaten in three days and three nights.

Bearing his hunger and fatigue, Nan Xu trudged for nearly five hours before finally reaching his familiar location where he had joined the formation.

Suddenly, Nan Xu felt uneasy. This couldn’t possibly be a loop, he thought. If the formation had played such a trick on him, then this maze would be the biggest he had ever seen!

He considered all the possible scenarios and strode forward.

Just like last time, the surrounding scenery remained unchanged. Everything seemed the same. However, Nan Xu sensed something unusual. For instance, the leaves above him trembled slightly, a sign of wind.

He felt like he had stepped back into reality from a painting.

Nan Xu checked the system. The mission countdown was ticking with only fifteen hours remaining. All functions, including the map store, were temporarily disabled.

As he walked, he pulled the last biscuit out of his pocket and began devouring it.

He was in a hurry to leave and didn’t have time to prepare food. He took a few biscuits with him from the stove. They were hard, so he gave them to Guan’er to chew on. He didn’t want to refuse them at that moment. Even if they made him choke, the feeling of being full was enough to make him happy.

Climbing up the mountain wasn’t easy, but for Nan Xu, who had been walking for so long, it wasn’t difficult at all. He was out of food, so he gritted his teeth and carried Zhixing to their destination as quickly as possible.

Finally, he heard the sound of water. After walking a few more minutes, he parted the jungle and saw a clear pool. Warm steam rose from the water. This must be the hot spring he had been searching for.

Nanxu stepped forward to test the water’s temperature. It was warm. He lowered Zhixing and jumped into the pool himself. He found a place to sit and carried Zhixing over.

The hot spring water soaked Zhixing’s clothes. Time passed, and Zhixing still hadn’t woken up. Perhaps it was just Nanxu’s imagination, but Zhixing, who had been pale and lifeless, seemed to have a hint of color beneath his skin.

Two hours passed, and Nanxu sat by the pool, growing bored with waiting. His body was covered in bruises and cuts of various sizes from the journey, none of which had healed. While none were serious, contact with water caused sharp pain.

“Hmm.” A low moan caught Nan Xu’s attention. He looked up and saw Zhi Xing’s furrowed brow, seemingly in pain.

Nan Xu walked over and felt Zhi Xing’s pulse. It was steady and strong—not the frailty of a dying person. He remembered what Tingchuan had told him: Zhi Xing’s body was too weak to replenish, and too much would be enough.

Nan Xu pulled Zhi Xing out of the hot spring and carried him down the mountain.

The descent was much faster than the ascent; they reached their destination in just over two hours. Nan Xu took a deep breath and stepped out of the formation.

His head spun, and he nearly lost his balance. Panicking, he reached out, and a hand pulled him forward. His chest collided with a warm body. Still with his eyes closed, Nan Xu frowned as his arms instinctively wrapped around the person before him.

After months of sharing a bed, Nan Xu knew Tingchuan’s scent all too well: a delicate fragrance.

He finally emerged.

Zhi Xing was carried away from him. Nan Xu squinted his eyes and rested his chin on Tingchuan’s shoulder, leaning most of his weight on him. He couldn’t focus on anything else; he was completely exhausted. He was hungry, tired, and achy all over.

“I’m so tired, Tingchuan,” Nan Xu murmured softly.

Tingchuan held him for a moment before he felt the person in his arms grow still. Looking down, he saw that he was already asleep.

The Bai couple took their son in their arms and felt the renewed vitality in Zhixing. They burst into tears of joy. When they reached out to express their gratitude, they realized that Nan Xu was no longer there. Tingchuan had already walked away, carrying Nanxu on his back down the winding mountain road.

When Nanxu awoke, the sky was half-filled with the glow of sunset. The door to the room was ajar, and there was complete silence outside.

Nanxu propped himself up and sat up. His body felt as if it had been torn apart and put back together. The pain was so intense that he gasped for air. This was not surprising; he had been walking constantly on the mountain trails during the battle, far exceeding his usual level of exercise.

His memory stopped at the moment he left the battle. He thought Tingchuan had brought him back.

Perhaps having heard the noise from inside, Guan’er, who had been sitting by the door, groaned and scratched at the door. Then, somehow, he pushed the door open and rushed in, wagging his head and tail at Nan Xu and trying to jump onto the bed.

Nan Xu tried to stop him, and Guan’er frantically paced around the bed. Nan Xu slowly got up and went to the yard, where Tingchuan was skinning a rabbit.

Nan Xu was surprised by this scene because Tingchuan was the last person he expected to handle animals.

Tingchuan heard a noise behind him, turned around, looked the person up and down, and asked, “Why don’t you lie down a little longer?”

Nan Xu looked at the rabbit in Tingchuan’s arms with longing. He touched his empty stomach and smiled sheepishly. “I’m hungry.”

Tingchuan said, “There’s sweet potato porridge in the pot. I also… Never mind. Go eat.”

He stopped talking mid-sentence. Nan Xu waited a few seconds, but seeing that he wasn’t about to say anything more, he didn’t bother continuing the conversation and went to the kitchen.

When he lifted the lid, the sweet aroma of sweet potatoes mingled with the fragrance of the porridge, causing Nan Xu to swallow uncontrollably. While he was trapped in the battleground, he had been eager to sharpen his knife and attack every critter in the inn. But even a bowl of sweet potato porridge made his mouth water.

He eagerly scooped up a bowl of porridge and brought it to his lips. The porridge was perfectly heated, the sweet potatoes were glutinous, and the rice was simmered until soft. Nan Xu finished the bowl in no time, barely filling his stomach. He smacked his lips, feeling unfulfilled.

As he scooped up his second bowl, Nan Xu caught sight of several covered plates on the stone slab beside the stove. He walked over and lifted the covers, revealing a collection of dishes that didn’t look particularly appealing. The small greens barely showed through. Nan Xu took a chopstick and tasted a hint of bitterness. Then, he tasted the dark meat, which was a bit woody but still recognizable as pork.

It wasn’t tasty, but Nan Xu couldn’t help but laugh. He could picture Tingchuan, a freak who couldn’t even light a fire, fumbling around at the stove.

Footsteps sounded behind him. Nan Xu turned around; his smile was still lingering when he met Tingchuan’s eyes. Tingchuan paused when he saw him enjoying the dishes.

Caught red-handed laughing at someone, Nan Xu widened his grin. Ting Chuan froze for two seconds, then chose to pretend he hadn’t seen anything. He walked in calmly. He had just finished washing the bloodstains off his hands, and his sleeves were rolled up wide.

Since Tingchuan hadn’t eaten yet, Nan Xu followed him with his bowl and sat down at the table.

Tingchuan took the dark dishes, leaving Nan Xu with only a bowl of porridge and a pot of stewed chicken.

Tingchuan couldn’t cook, and today was his first attempt. He imitated Nan Xu’s usual cooking techniques, but only the clear chicken soup would be worth the effort of the last few dishes.

“Is this chicken one you raised?” Nan Xu blurted out without thinking.

The chicken had been stewed for a long time, and its aroma was trapped within the clay pot. Even without seasoning, the flavor was rich and mellow.

Ting Chuan frowned as he ate the dishes he had made; his handsome face was full of torment. When he heard Nan Xu’s question, he froze, unable to comprehend how he could suggest eating the chicks that had only hatched a month ago.

“No, the dogs caught them in the mountains,” he said. Then he paused for a moment before adding, “I’ll stew the ones I raised for you when they’re grown.”

Nan Xu realized the humor in his question. After hearing Tingchuan’s subsequent words, he couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

After a satisfying meal, Nan Xu leaned back in his bamboo chair and muttered, “My stomach feels like a bottomless pit after every trip to the formation. It’s only been a day. I’m not being forced to evolve, am I?”

Tingchuan looked at Nan Xu in confusion. “You were in there for three days.”

Startled, Nan Xu jerked upright in his chair and asked in disbelief, “Three days?!”

Isn’t the time in formation constant? The system calculated it to be only half a day. No wonder he nearly fainted from hunger and Guan’er was so excited to see him as if they hadn’t seen each other in a while.

His expression was so shocking that Tingchuan realized he wasn’t joking. He dropped his smile and asked, “What happened to you in the formation?”

With nothing else to do, Nanxu sat down at the table and told Tingchuan about his experiences in the formation. When he mentioned the two dreams, Nanxu was puzzled. “The me in the dream didn’t seem to be myself. I felt like I was missing a lot of memories. I felt like I was being dragged along by the plot, unable to change anything. It was like these things happened to someone else and I was just a bystander.”

After listening to his detailed account, Tingchuan fell silent, not even responding to Nanxu.

Nan Xu didn’t care about his reaction; he just needed an audience. He continued, “For example, that Guiquansi vine—I don’t even know when it appeared on my wrist.”

He rambled on, and when he finally finished, Tingchuan said, “What you dreamed of really happened. This formation must be woven from his memories. Your entry into the formation this time brought you into his memories.”

Nan Xu suddenly understood. No wonder what he saw and heard didn’t seem like his own personal experience yet felt incredibly real.

“Who is it?” Nan Xu asked.

Tingchuan lowered his eyes slightly, his long eyelashes trembling. “My old friend. He was born from the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. No one gave him a name, so we jokingly called him ‘Little Demon.'”

“Why?” Nan Xu asked.

A smile played at the corners of Tingchuan’s mouth—a smile Nan Xu had never seen before. It was gentle. “He can’t transform into his true form, so what else could he be but a little demon? But now I think I know his name.”

Nanxu nodded, looking confused. “The Golden Crow and the Azure Dragon that I saw in my dream were very similar to your old friend, weren’t they?”

Tingchuan didn’t hesitate this time. “Yes, they were very close. They traveled together, traversing every realm of the demon world. We fought side by side, sharing life and death together. That’s why he’s so obsessed with them.”

Nanxu wasn’t sure if it was a mistake, but he detected a hint of bitterness in Tingchuan’s words.