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“In the whirlpool of deception and rage, Xiao Meng remembers only the fire in his eyes—fire belonging to him alone. Unchanged through countless tribulations, enduring until death.”
Xiapi City · Outskirts
On the outskirts of Xiapi, a few dilapidated thatched huts stand empty, remnants of an abandoned village. In one hut, hidden among the trees, someone has built a small fire. On this moonless, starless night, that fire seems the only light in the world.
The flames are not fierce; the fire flickers uncertainly. The figure silently watches, waiting until the fire nearly dies before pale hands add twigs, coaxing the flames back to life.
Though small, the fire refuses to go out.
Of course, those slender hands belong to Xiao Meng.
His face shows a trace of exhaustion, but his bright, delicate eyes reflect the dancing firelight with a strange brilliance. It’s been twenty days since he escaped White Gate Tower. The imperial court has issued wanted notices across the provinces, hunting the remnants who assassinated Lord Liu and Cao Cao—something Xiao Meng had long expected.
Recently, he risked entering the city in disguise and learned that Cao Cao narrowly survived, departing for Xuchang with his army on the seventh day after the attack. Lü Bu was said to have been hanged at White Gate Tower, and Xiao Meng himself was now one of the empire’s most wanted fugitives.
The world is vast, yet there’s nowhere to run.
Paradoxically, battle-scarred Xiapi is now safer—Lü Bu’s defeat means Cao’s army has withdrawn, the city’s importance diminished. Cao’s people likely assume Xiao Meng has already fled, so here is less scrutinized than elsewhere.
Still, he knows he cannot stay here forever. Even if he wanted to run, he has no idea where to go.
“It’s harder than I thought…” he laughs bitterly.
“And Lü Bu… is he truly dead?”
Alone and still badly wounded, Lü Bu’s escape would be nearly impossible.
But thinking how he, Xiao Meng, alone could not fight ten thousand, he used every trick he knew to create chaos and help, if possible. Xiao Meng sighs deeply. “Enough… I’ve done all I could. After all, life and death are always left to fate!”
Yet fate is unpredictable, and the human heart even more so.
As Xiao Meng’s thoughts flickered with the flames, he recalled: on the day Lü Bu was defeated, he had resolved to seek death. His final assassination attempt on Cao was less about vengeance, more a chosen form of suicide. It was for Lei and Ang, for the Sima clan—for them, a final gesture.
Even if he had succeeded in killing Cao, he never planned to escape, nor even thought about it.
Originally, he had planned to strike only after Lü Bu was dead.
“Survival is futile; defeat brings ruin.”
For people like him and Lü Bu, what use is survival in such ruin?
And though his brothers and kin died to Cao’s revenge after his failed assassination, the one who set him on this path must share the blame.
Both of us deserve to die. If both die, then all debts are cleared!
Heh… hehehe… haha…
Xiao Meng tried to suppress a wild, nameless emotion, but laughter seeped from between his teeth, sounding strange—almost frightening.
Yes, had I succeeded in killing Cao Cao, it would have been a different story. But I failed, and everything since has tumbled irretrievably.
He remembered first meeting Lü Bu in Luoyang; Lü Bu saw through him and nearly brought disaster to the young lord.
Then, that memory Xiao Meng never wished to recall flashed through his mind…
In the old royal city of Luoyang, we were so close. He grabbed my throat, his deep eyes piercing me. His face drew nearer, and finally… with closed eyes, he kissed me! He even pulled the dagger from my mouth. I’d planned to seduce him and escape, but that failed too…
So it is—ever since meeting him, I have failed every mission, every task, until my world utterly collapsed.
His fingernails dug into his own arm, nearly drawing blood.
I hate him! I truly hate him!
But… but…
He never imagined that the mighty Lü Bu would beg for mercy aloud. Always unpredictable, he caused earth-shaking changes even to those around him. Like when he ordered me to kill Cao Cao, gambling whether I’d betray him—he won the bet, but I, from then on, could never break free.
But…
When I heard his desperate cries for mercy, for some reason, I was reminded of that wild, demonic flame that flashed in his eyes that night he lost control.
No one had ever looked at me like that.
My resolve for death was overtaken by an overwhelming, unprecedented longing and desire.
No… I can’t let him die.
He must not die like this!
If I must give a reason, it’s that I cannot let that flame go out.
Because in all the vast world, I have nothing—except that strange fire, which belongs to me alone.
Because in all the world, I alone have seen the fire in his eyes.
I want to possess that flame, to keep it a little longer!
So he cannot die, and neither can I.
At the very least, I must do something—even if it’s only a little.
Perhaps Xiao Meng was already mad.
The fire before him slowly burned out.
But he made no move, letting it die.
For tonight there were no stars, no moon, yet that strange little flame danced and flickered stubbornly in his heart, and Xiao Meng kept chasing it… chasing it…
Until, exhausted, he finally lost consciousness and fell into deep sleep…
End of Chapter 5
© Jing Xixian (King Heyin) (Vampire L), All rights reserved.
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