Fatal to Pretend With a Cheat | Chapter 78 | The Withered Spring | Novela.app

01】 Everyone knew the Night Lord possessed exceptional hearing, but few knew exactly how profound it was. It went beyond merely hearing in all directions. He focused specifically on a person’s breathing, respiration, heart rate, and pulse—elements that intertwined and influenced one another to reflect their emotions and state of mind. These subtle sounds, imperceptible to others, formed vivid impressions in his mind: some were bold and valiant like the scorching sun over the Gobi; others were ruthless and perverse like thorns in a dense forest. Because of this trait, he could easily judge who was approachable and who required caution; which actions would bring joy and which would incite rejection. In the years before he earned the title "Night Lord," from his earliest memories, he was a child without kin, wandering the streets. However, thanks to his first-rate ability to read people and his neat, adorable appearance, he fared quite well. While other beggars fought with dogs over scraps of steamed bread, he managed to obtain boxes of exquisite pastries from the beautiful ladies in the various vermilion towers. Every street urchin within a five-mile radius looked up to him as their leader. After ten years of biding his time, the Night Lord, having just turned twelve, was abruptly captured by the Night Walkers. He was utterly astonished when he was taken, for the men who seized him harbored no malice or aggression. He spent a great deal of effort trying to charm them into granting him freedom, but to no avail. He later realized that these people were truly apathetic, like a pool of stagnant water. And stagnant water knows neither joy nor anger. The Night Walkers was a place designed to extinguish the hot blood within his chest—and the chests of the other children captured with him—grinding them down until they became lifeless, stagnant water just like their captors. The children captured alongside him included beggars and children from ordinary families. The sudden upheaval, the darkness, the terror of losing loved ones, and the fear of the unknown... the children transformed all their unvented negative emotions into piercing, soul-tearing wails. The confined cells caused the cacophony to amplify infinitely. To the Night Lord, who was hypersensitive to sound, this was the most cruel form of torture. After being locked away for several days, no one had the strength left to cry. To an outsider, the atmosphere in that secret room would have seemed dull and oppressive, but not to the Night Lord. Their fear and trepidation never ceased; their heartbeats remained ear-splitting, torturing him every waking moment. For the first time, he began to resent his gift. After all, aside from some tasty sugar cakes, this trait had brought him little benefit. Instead, it had robbed him of even a single moment of peaceful sleep over the past few days. The Night Lord never expected that in this most noisy and foul place, he would hear the most beautiful heartbeat in the world. Steady, gentle, clear, and bright... like a flawless spring of green jade. He followed the sound and found a youth with pitch-black eyes sitting quietly in a corner, devoid of any irritability or fear. "Can I sit next to you?" the Night Lord asked. The other boy looked at him silently, his expression unreadable, offering neither consent nor resistance. Regardless of the response, the Night Lord squeezed past the surrounding children and sat down right beside him. Enveloped by the rhythmic, beautiful sound of that flowing spring, he fell into a peaceful sleep. 02】 When the confinement—intended as a show of force—ended, the children around him rarely cried or made a fuss anymore. Having stayed in the darkness for too long, the strings of fear had snapped, replaced mostly by submission. Because they were taken away in batches, the Night Lord was forced to part from the youth with the beautiful heartbeat. Though the future was unknown, he felt an inexplicable certainty that they were destined to meet again. After undergoing a series of basic tests and evaluations, the Night Walkers assigned numbers based on strength to serve as their names from then on. He received the grade "Yiwei." Along with it came a training schedule and living quarters. Beyond physical training, the Night Walkers provided brainwashing lectures, draping the inhumane training in beautiful euphemisms and singing its praises with grandiosity. The speakers spouted words of morality, loyalty, and righteousness that they didn't even believe themselves, attempting to gild and conceal the truth. The Night Lord found it laughable, turning his head to search the crowd for the person with the beautiful heartbeat. The Night Lord spotted him at once, only to see him listening with such earnestness that he appeared to actually believe it. The Night Lord was speechless: *He actually takes this seriously? Is he a fool?* The Night Lord stole a glance at the youth’s nameplate. It was engraved with "Gengchen." He carefully committed this number to the depths of his heart. 03】 The Night Lord did not know if he was lucky or unlucky. He seemed to possess a god-given grace; he was clever and beautiful, and his physical reactions were far faster than those of ordinary people. Realms that others paid a tragic price to reach, he could achieve without the slightest effort. He was a true martial arts genius; he could master any technique or mental cultivation after seeing it once. He never bothered with diligent practice, yet he could win steadily the moment he laid hands on a weapon. While those around him fought tooth and nail just to survive another day, he spent most of his time idly passing the hours. His means of passing time were very limited: mostly harassing Gengchen. Aside from the trial grounds, Gengchen did only two things: meditate or practice his sword. Gengchen’s natural talent was limited; it took everything he had just to fight to a draw with the Night Lord, and he never relaxed for a single moment. Gengchen’s swordsmanship was solid and steady, and his practice sessions were excruciatingly dull. The Night Lord would lean against the railing of the corridor to watch him, often falling asleep after only a short while. When Gengchen meditated, the Night Lord would squat beside him to chat and strike up a conversation. Gengchen rarely spoke, but fortunately, the Night Lord didn't need a response; he simply wanted to linger by Gengchen’s side to escape the intrusive, ear-splitting noise of the others. As the Night Lord calmed his mind to slowly savor it, he realized Gengchen was more than just a clear spring. He was a secluded spring in an empty valley, accompanied by the warbling of birds and the fragrance of orchids. The flow was quiet and pure, yet resilient and unstoppable. He was the gentlest pure land in the world. The Night Lord, who was so lazy he wished he could just sink into the earth, specifically saved up his colored tokens to trade his bunk for the one beside Gengchen. Gengchen did not seem surprised when the person sleeping next to him suddenly changed to the Night Lord, and he never questioned it. Using the excuse that he was a light sleeper who feared noise, the Night Lord lingered in the courtyard every day waiting for Gengchen to finish his meditation, supervising him so they would go to sleep together. Many years later, when the Night Lord had achieved fame and lived a comfortable life of luxury, he never again found such a beautiful, quiet spring and secluded orchid to usher him into his dreams. 04】 Gengchen had said more than once that he wanted to be granted the title of "Night Lord." He practiced martial arts desperately and strove to be the best, all for that single goal. But unfortunately, more than loyalty, the Night Walkers needed a "pretty vase" who knew how to please people. The Night Lord understood this path deeply and found it bitter. Gengchen’s purity was so precious; he feared it would ultimately be betrayed by this filthy world. 05】 As expected, Yiwei was granted the title of "Night Lord," and from then on, they went their separate ways. Their next reunion occurred when the Night Rakshasa killed his master and slew Qin Seven. By the order of the Second Young Master, the Night Lord went to personally destroy the evidence and frame him. In the Populus euphratica forest of the northwest desert, separated by a river, he once again perceived the Night Rakshasa’s heartbeat. The flowing clear spring was still there, but the secluded orchids had already withered. 06】 Later still, the Night Rakshasa was taken into the Zhongli Estate by the Second Young Master. He was kept hidden away under heavy guard for three years, until finally, his internal strength was destroyed and he was cast out. As the Second Young Master’s most capable assistant, the Night Lord personally supervised the entire punishment. When it was over, he carefully lifted the blood-drenched Night Rakshasa from the execution rack. This sincere heart, trampled and slandered by countless people... Was the treasure he had never dared to hope for from the very beginning. The Night Rakshasa curled up in his arms, his breath as thin as a thread, no longer the high-spirited, resilient youth of his memories. The Night Lord supported him, pressing against his chest, trying his hardest to discern that weak heartbeat. It could no longer even be called stagnant water. It was a vast, sprawling, endless ruin of flowers and birds, the charred remains of burnt pines and cypresses. "No one needs me anymore." His faint voice was submerged in the torrent of agony, heard by no one. He said, "Yiwei, I regret it." The last clear spring in the world had finally run dry. *** Glossary Table: