Chapter 27: Another Vision

A suffocating darkness surrounded Xie Dongyi. The air was damp and thick with the stench of old blood, and the only source of light seeped through the cracks in the door, casting faint, eerie streaks onto the stone floor. His body ached, drained of strength. The coldness in his limbs wasn't merely from the prison's chill—it was the absence of warmth in his veins, stolen from him drop by drop.

His ears caught the faint sound of footsteps. The door creaked open, and the dim light from outside illuminated a figure stepping into the room. Even in his weakened state, Xie Dongyi immediately recognized him.

Xie Ruyue.

His cousin stood in the doorway, her delicate features shrouded in shadow. Behind her, another man followed—Xie Ruyue's father, Xie Haoran. His uncle. The man he once called family.

Xie Dongyi wanted to speak, to ask why, but his throat was too dry, his body too weak. The taste of iron lingered on his tongue. He could only watch as the two figures loomed over him, their expressions unreadable. But when Xie Ruyue finally spoke, it was not to comfort him.

"Father, let's do the ritual now," she urged, her tone tinged with impatience.

Xie Haoran shot her a sharp look. "Don't be reckless. Do you want to be poisoned by cold poison again?"

Xie Ruyue's lips pressed into a thin line. She said nothing.

Cold poison? What does that have to do with me?

Xie Dongyi's mind raced. His cousin had suffered from cold poison before, that much he knew. But why was his uncle mentioning it now? Why was he implying a connection?

Xie Haoran sighed and turned his gaze back to Xie Dongyi, studying him like one would an object rather than a person. "Even though I avoided touching his special physique this time, his bloodline is still too potent. We shouldn't rush."

Xie Ruyue lowered her gaze, fists clenched at her sides. "I understand," she muttered through gritted teeth.

Their conversation made no sense to Xie Dongyi. What were they talking about? What was it about his bloodline that made them hesitate? But before he could think further, his uncle turned back to him, his expression shifting into one of disdain.

"Don't blame us, blame yourself for being born in this world," Xie Haoran sneered.

Then, he raised his hand.

A chilling wave of energy surged toward Xie Dongyi. The moment it touched his skin, agony bloomed through his body. It felt as though his flesh was being peeled from his bones, his very being crushed under an invisible force. Pain erupted from every nerve, flooding his senses until all he could do was tremble.

His body was shaking, but he refused to cry.

What had he done to deserve this?

Rage burned beneath the pain, hotter than anything he had ever felt before. These were the people he had once trusted. And they—

A voice called his name.

"Xie Dongyi!"

"Xie Dongyi! Wake up!!"

The vision shattered.

—

Xie Dongyi jolted awake, his breath caught in his throat. Sweat clung to his skin as his body tensed, the lingering echoes of pain still vivid in his mind. His vision adjusted to the dim glow of the campfire, and the first thing he saw was a pair of worried eyes looking down at him.

Lie Zhanfeng.

The young man crouched beside him, brows furrowed in concern. "What happened? Did you have a nightmare?"

Xie Dongyi stared at him, unable to find his voice. The warmth of reality slowly replaced the cold terror of his vision. Without thinking, he reached forward and clutched onto Lie Zhanfeng, burying his face in the man's shoulder.

For a moment, the world was silent.

Lie Zhanfeng stiffened.

Xie Dongyi had never sought comfort before. Even when injured, even when exhausted, he always maintained his usual composure. But now, he was trembling ever so slightly, his hands gripping Lie Zhanfeng's clothes as if grounding himself in reality.

Lie Zhanfeng hesitated for only a second before his large hands patted Xie Dongyi's back with an unexpected gentleness.

"I'm here," he said softly. "Don't worry… I'm here."

Xie Dongyi didn't respond.

His mind was still clouded by the remnants of his vision, questions gnawing at him, but in this moment, he didn't want to think about them. He didn't want to dwell on the truth that awaited him.

He just wanted to change his fate.

A flutter of wings broke the quiet.

From his perch on a tree branch, Jimao stretched his small but proud body, his sharp beak glinting under the moonlight. He peered down at Xie Dongyi, his head tilted.

"Oi, pretty boy, did you have a nightmare? Tch, tch, how weak—"

Before Jimao could finish his sentence, Lie Zhanfeng shot him a glare. "Shut it, you overgrown feather duster."

Jimao flapped his wings indignantly. "Feather duster?! You dare call this great one a feather duster?! Do you even know how rare my bloodline is?! I—"

"I don't care. Besides, your so-called bloodline is still defective, so don't get too cocky!" Lie Zhanfeng crossed his arms, expression unimpressed. "Do you wanna be our breakfast tomorrow? Keep talking."

Jimao gasped, scandalized. "You brute! You think you can threaten me?! Let's see who wins in a fight—"

"You? Win? Pfft."

"You dare laugh at me?!"

As the two descended into childish bickering, Xie Dongyi remained silent, listening to their exchange.

He couldn't understand Jimao's words, but based on Lie Zhanfeng's replies, he could more or less guess what the rooster was saying.

The heaviness in his chest lingered, but somehow, watching them argue made it a little lighter.

His nightmare still haunted him, the vision clawing at his mind with its unanswered questions. What did his uncle mean by 'not touching his special physique'? Why was Xie Ruyue involved? Why did it feel like he was at the center of something far more sinister?

He didn't know.

And right now, he didn't want to know.

He just wanted to prevent it from ever happening.

His grip on his fate was weak, but he would hold on with everything he had.

For now, he quietly leaned against Lie Zhanfeng's warmth, listening to the sounds of the fire crackling, the soft night breeze, and the distant sound of an arrogant rooster getting scolded.

And for a fleeting moment, the nightmare felt a little less suffocating.