The dripping blood gathered, soaking the white snow underfoot and spreading into a small, ever-expanding red stain.
Zhang Qiling hadn't noticed it until his vision suddenly blurred.
(It needs to be bandaged)
This message flashed through his mind, swift as a glint of scales in the abyssal depths, or the tail of a meteor streaking across the dark night.
As if receiving an instruction, like a robot suddenly activated, he moved with practiced efficiency to tear strips from his clothes for bandaging.
But his action halted midway, for reasons unknown.
He didn't know why he was in this all-encompassing snow, but he was currently wearing a thick black down jacket.
...This jacket was very warm.
His hand, reaching for the jacket, softened. He hesitated, then carefully removed the down jacket and placed it gently beside him. He then proceeded to tear the black cloth shirt beneath into strips.
Most of his wounds were linear, like thorns climbing across his waist and abdomen. The cloth strips weren't quite enough, but after a moment's hesitation, he still didn't damage the down jacket.
Ignoring the unbandaged wounds, he slowly put the down jacket back on and zipped it up.
...So what was he supposed to do next?
His mind was like a broken hourglass, all the sand flowing out from the crack. Any thought that just began was drowned in an endless void.
He didn't know who he was, what he was supposed to do, or why he existed in this world.
He felt it shouldn't be so quiet around him, but looking back, he only saw snowflakes falling silently. He fell into doubt again.
But this doubt soon vanished, replaced by an endless sense of confusion and pain.
This feeling was as if he shouldn't have appeared at all, a complete detachment and abruptness from the world.
(Must find memories)
Another thought surfaced, but this time it didn't disappear quickly.
It stood out starkly in his completely blank mind, growing larger and stronger, like countless trumpets blaring simultaneously, causing his head to split with pain.
So Zhang Qiling paused and began his descent down the mountain.
He had lost a bit too much blood earlier, and as he walked, his vision turned completely black, with countless light spots dancing and flickering on his retinas.
"Ha..."
Unable to help himself, he leaned against a nearby rock. His pale, slender fingers were somewhat jarring against the dark stone surface. Zhang Qiling took a deep breath, and his vision finally cleared a little.
He had now reached the foot of Changbai Mountain. There were still specks of white around, but he could already hear the clamor of human voices.
He noticed a few people running towards him.
"Dude, did you come out of Changbai Mountain? Did you see anything unusual before?"
"When did you go in, and how long were you inside?"
"We've sealed off this entire area, where did you get in!!"
"Did you see the Bronze Gate? Tell us quickly if you saw it!"
...
The noisy voices erupted, like a radio with bad reception, crackling and echoing in his ears. Zhang Qiling gradually lost the ability to clearly distinguish the words spilling from their rapidly moving lips. Focusing his gaze, he could only see the undisguised greed on their varied faces.
...It felt very uncomfortable.
A man with a disheveled beard, seeing that the person before him remained silent, head bowed as if in thought, his fine black hair under the hood obscuring half his face, couldn't help but impatiently slap him.
"I'm talking to you, are you mute?!"
He struck carelessly, his tone laced with malicious mockery, and the next moment, a searing pain struck!
His vision spun violently, his arm felt a tearing agony, and with a "clang," he slammed heavily onto the ground. The sky flashed before his eyes, then turned to blackness.
Seeing the man instantly knocked unconscious by Zhang Qiling, the surrounding people were startled, their fierce expressions showing as they prepared to surround him.
And at that moment, Zhang Qiling raised his head.
His eyes, which had been hidden under the hood, were revealed. They were clear to the bottom, and faintly reflected the beautiful sky of today.
But the surging killing intent and ferocity within them made his eyes extremely sharp.
...Death, true death.
The people froze instantly, as if facing a wild beast in a wasteland, their bodies almost unable to move.
They watched as Zhang Qiling slowly walked through them and headed into the distance.
It was only then that they suddenly noticed the strong smell of blood emanating from him, and on the arm of the stunned bearded man, there was a fresh, bloody handprint.
...This was a wounded wild beast.
Zhang Qiling didn't care about their intentions, but he had noticed the abnormal attention directed at him.
Some people, thinking they were hidden, even raised their optical computers to take pictures.
(These people are troublesome)
And the current Zhang Qiling disliked any trouble.
He paused, then suddenly accelerated into a blind spot. Amidst the sudden commotion outside, he wiped his face with one hand. When he lowered his hand, he had transformed into the appearance of a pale middle-aged man.
After a moment's hesitation, he took off the down jacket again, turned it inside out, and put it on. The knife behind him was wrapped in the clothing.
The inside of this down jacket was light gray. Wearing it inside out made it look like a brand new garment.
...Disguise technique.
Zhang Qiling didn't know why he knew this, but he had used it instinctively.
He coughed lightly, like a dying man, an ordinary middle-aged person crushed by life, and walked into the crowd with a slight stoop.
A commotion erupted in the distance of the crowd, as if two people were about to charge over.
But after Zhang Qiling's sudden disappearance, these vulture-like people were in chaos. How could they allow outsiders to come and share the spoils?
Amidst the shoving, Zhang Qiling faintly heard a familiar voice. This familiarity felt strangely alien to him now. He instinctively turned his head, but looking over, he only saw a dense sea of people, so thick it was suffocating.
So he stood there for a moment, then turned and left.
---
By the time Wu Tianzhen and Fatty, with the help of Xie Yuchen's associates, cleared a path and pushed into the crowd, there was nothing left but a昏迷 (hūnmí - unconscious) bearded man.
"…He was incredibly fierce, really, terrifying!" The captured individuals were clearly thugs hired by other factions. After Xie Yuchen smiled and broke one of their fingers, they spilled everything as if their mouths had been lubricated.
"Wang Hou'er just hit him…" As he said this, he suddenly saw the sinister glares from Wu Tianzhen and Fatty opposite him. He stammered and quickly added, "He didn't hit him, didn't hit him at all! Didn't even touch him!"
"He, he was just knocked out and fell to the ground!"
"…"
Xie Yuchen waved his hand, signaling his associates to take these people away first, and sighed, "They're all minor figures, don't know much."
"Little Brother is injured…" Wu Tianzhen didn't reply. He stared fixedly at the bloody handprint on Wang Hou'er's arm, his gaze making Wang Hou'er, who had already woken up, tremble with fear.
"He was right here moments ago, why did he leave as soon as we arrived?"
"He must have seen us. He's always been very vigilant, why did he still leave?"
"Tianzhen, don't get too caught up in it," Fatty said, also feeling uneasy. He glanced at the blood, unable to articulate his feelings, "Little Brother must have had something urgent to do. He'll be back after he's done."
"Didn't Mr. Xie already send people to look for him? Little Brother won't have gone far. With so many people, they're bound to find him! Plus, we've contacted Song Shuning to check the surveillance, it'll be fine!"
Wu Tianzhen remained silent.
He lowered his head, looking at the optical computer in his hand, which he had just retrieved from a minor thug. On the screen, Zhang Qiling was looking back at him with sharp eyes.
…That look, Wu Tianzhen had never seen before.
It was as if layers of outer walls had been erected after severe stimulation, filled with bewilderment and extreme insecurity.