Chapter Thirteen: Farewell

“Go. I will not kill you.”

After seeing the woman’s face before him, Duan Zhengtian tossed aside his sword and let out a deep sigh. He bore no grudge against this woman, but he did have a connection with her mother.

The woman, realizing he would not kill her, showed no gratitude. Instead, she continued to glare at him with eyes full of hatred. Once she understood who had come to kill him, Duan Zhengtian waved his hand, returning the inner energy he had just absorbed.

Though the four regained their energy, their vitality was gravely wounded. Supporting each other, they limped away. Duan Zhengtian parted his lips, wanting to say something to the woman, yet the words would not leave his mouth.

It seemed the woman, too, had nothing to say to him. She picked up her sword, leaped onto the roof, and, after glancing back at him one last time, turned away and departed.

Left standing in place, Duan Zhengtian was overcome with guilt, gazing after her silhouette as it disappeared into the distance, his heart a tangle of emotions.

By now, Feng Baobao had sobered up—though in truth, she had awakened earlier. When her husband unleashed his formidable aura, she was startled awake by the surge of energy, and had been watching from behind the door ever since.

She had seen the woman’s face as well, so she could understand why Duan Zhengtian received such a look from her.

After all, that woman was the enemy who had killed her mother!

Her name was Liu Yan’er. Over the past five years, she had launched more than six hundred assassination attempts, yet not one had succeeded, or even come close.

“Duanduan, let’s return to Tianyu City! After being away from home for so long, I suddenly crave the osmanthus cake you make for me.”

Seeing Duan Zhengtian lost in heavy memories, Feng Baobao approached, tugging at his sleeve and pouting coquettishly. Duan Zhengtian closed his eyes and sighed, then smiled, drew her into his arms, and agreed.

So it turned out that Wu Yiyi’s signature way of pouting had been learned from this very scene.

After packing up, Li Pingyang and the others awoke—only Li Hu was still asleep, occasionally scratching his face.

They placed the remaining food and some silver on the table, intending to slip away quietly without disturbing the villagers.

Li Pingyang kicked Li Hu on the rear, but the latter slumbered on. Seeing no reaction, Li Pingyang grinned mischievously, leaned down, and whispered into his ear.

“The serpent demon is here!”

“Ah! Where’s the serpent demon?”

“You rascal, Li Gou Dan, how dare you scare me like that.”

At the words “serpent demon,” Li Hu sprang up as if electrocuted, causing Li Pingyang and Wu Yiyi nearby to burst out laughing. Li Hu, feigning anger, chased after them in playful pursuit.

After a few laps, his belly too full to run further, Li Hu leaned against the doorframe, declaring he was done. Yet as soon as Li Pingyang stopped, he resumed the chase.

“All right, let’s get going,” Wu Yiyi intervened, grabbing both their ears—one in each hand—bringing the chase to an abrupt halt.

Li Hu pleaded with her to show mercy, while Li Pingyang, wincing in pain, begged her to let go and promised to behave.

When it was time to leave, Li Hu looked at the child’s clothes and the split-crotch pants he had worn. Li Pingyang teased him, saying if he liked them so much, he should keep them as souvenirs, and that the pants suited him rather well.

Li Hu shot him a look of disdain, then neatly folded the clothes and laid them on a chest. He wanted to leave these behind, hoping the villagers would remember him. Whenever they saw these things, they would recall their days together—though brief, he felt reluctant to say farewell.

“Come, have one last drink with me!”

Speaking in hushed tones, the group passed the village chief, who was still asleep. Suddenly, he raised a cup, blocking their path, startling them into stopping.

Li Pingyang stepped forward, lowered the old man’s arm, and said, “Let me fill that for you!” He took the cup away and set it aside, quickly urging everyone to depart.

But as they stepped out, they found the villagers of White Mist Village lined up on both sides of the road, waiting to see them off. Witnessing this, Li Hu rubbed his eyes, claiming some dust had gotten in.

Li Pingyang exhaled in relief and smiled at everyone. There is no feast that lasts forever, but so long as we don’t forget one another, no matter where we go, this bond remains.

An old woman stood in the crowd with her granddaughter, who clutched a hand-sewn cloth tiger. She wanted to give this to Li Pingyang.

The tiger was her most cherished possession. Her parents had died young, leaving only her and her grandmother. Her mother had made the tiger by hand, stitch by stitch, before she passed away.

It was only with great resolve that she could part with it, deciding to give the cloth tiger to her savior. As Li Pingyang approached, he gently patted the girl’s head and accepted the cloth tiger with a smile.

The girl’s eyes remained fixed on the tiger, her innocent face etched with reluctance. Li Pingyang imagined she would soon regret giving it away and burst into tears.

“All right, then I’ll give it back to you!”

He pressed the cloth tiger back into her hands. In that instant, the sorrow on her face was replaced by a radiant smile.

“That’s enough, everyone. Let’s stop here. The air is getting chilly; go on home.”

Li Pingyang turned, his gaze sweeping over each villager. Looking at their thin clothing, he hoped the surprise he had left behind would bring them joy.

The villagers watched their benefactors depart, silently sending their best wishes with them.

After leaving the village, Li Pingyang walked with his hands behind his head, grinning from ear to ear. Li Hu, keeping pace beside him, thought he was being set up again and checked himself over, but found nothing amiss. Puzzled, he asked why Li Pingyang was so cheerful.

Li Pingyang joked that he was reminded of Li Hu’s ridiculous makeup from before. At the mention, even Wu Yiyi beside them couldn’t stifle her laughter.

“What’s this?”

While tidying up the abandoned temple, a villager discovered a huge wooden chest behind the Buddha statue. Fearing it might be something dangerous, he called for the village chief and the others.

The villagers gathered around the chest, each armed with a hoe, sickle, or even a kitchen knife—just in case they had to defend themselves when it was opened.

Two villagers pried open the chest, and everyone gasped in astonishment at what they found. One bold villager picked up an item and held it up to his body.

The chest was filled with down jackets, exchanged by Li Pingyang at the marketplace using cards from slaying the Violet-Eyed Giant Python.

None of them had ever seen such garments, nor could they fathom the skill required to craft them. But upon wearing them, they felt a warmth unlike any other.

The village chief quickly distributed the down jackets. At the very bottom of the chest was a small jacket, left by Li Pingyang for the little girl.