HEIFEIGU -Chapter 77

The pain in Qian Shuyun had slightly eased. He curled up on the sofa, his entire body feeling like it had been dragged out of water, drenched in cold sweat.

Even now, his body still trembled from the earlier pain, his limbs completely weak and numb.

Xie Jixing rinsed the towel and came over, lifting Qian Shuyun’s chin. “Look up.”

Qian Shuyun raised his head, his gray-blue eyes locking onto the small red mole under Xie Jixing’s eye. “Back there, in the illusion…”

“It was bizarre… I think I… split…” He paused, unsure how to describe it. “I was… executing myself.”

“You were executing yourself…” Xie Jixing’s hand froze for a moment as he repeated Qian Shuyun’s words, and he seemed to understand the cause of it all. “Yin Wenshan must have marked you as the officer who executed him back then, and the person being executed was Yin Wenshan himself.”

“Have you ever played a similar role?”

Qian Shuyun frowned and thought for a while.

“I have, indeed.” He exposed his neck fully, letting the warm towel rub his most vulnerable spot. “It was a cameo as a villain, only two days of shooting. I didn’t expect…”

“EMMM…” Xie Jixing tried to hold back but couldn’t resist. With his usual sharp tongue, he teased, “How unlucky can you be?”

Qian Shuyun gave a bitter smile and grabbed Xie Jixing, who was about to wash the towel, showing a rare vulnerability. “I’m a little scared.”

He lowered his brows, staring seriously at Xie Jixing’s hand.

“Even though I insisted earlier that I wanted to enter the illusion to find the truth, now I don’t even dare to imagine what Yin Wenshan went through…”

After all, he was someone who grew up in peacetime. Those brutal scenes existed only in videos or texts; he never thought he might one day actually experience them.

“I’m afraid…” Qian Shuyun took a deep breath. “I’m afraid that if I think about it, I’ll lose the courage to enter the illusion.”

Although he had requested to enter the illusion to investigate, he hesitated now.

He feared the blood-soaked era on the other side—the things Yin Wenshan himself had experienced.

“Do you… think…” Qian Shuyun lightly pulled at the wristbone, looking up at him, “that I’m cowardly?”

Xie Jixing lowered his head, offering no comfort, only a soft smile, meeting those gray-blue eyes.

There was no blame, no disgust—only calm.

“You can still back out now.”

Xie Jixing gave Qian Shuyun a chance to choose again.

Though the ghost in the mirror had become harder to deal with because of his seal, it wasn’t impossible to resolve.

“This isn’t a responsibility you must bear.”

This responsibility—I will take it.

Perhaps reading this in his eyes, Qian Shuyun’s heart steadied. He gathered courage once more to enter the illusion.

His fingers unconsciously traced the veins on Xie Jixing’s wrist. “But I’m not afraid now. With you going in with me, nothing will happen.”

“Xie Jixing,” Qian Shuyun stretched out his hand just like on Nanjiawan Island, “can you pull me in again?”

“My legs are weak. I can’t stand.”

Their hands clasped, and Qian Shuyun slowly rose from the sofa, walking a few steps under Xie Jixing’s guidance.

Though he still felt some pain with each step, all fear and unease in his heart vanished.

“I’ll take a shower, dress up nicely, and then go in again to meet my childhood idol.”

Back in front of the mirror, Qian Shuyun had regained his usual composed and handsome demeanor.

Xie Jixing stood behind him and, before he entered the frame, only said: “Boss Qian, always remember—you are Qian Shuyun, not Yin Wenshan.”

Qian Shuyun gripped his hand firmly, nodded seriously, took a deep breath, and pressed both hands against the mirror without hesitation.

“Whoosh!”

A bucket of ice water poured over his head. Qian Shuyun slowly opened his eyes—he had become Yin Wenshan.

His arms and legs were chained to a frame. He couldn’t move, had no strength, and his once-beautiful peach-blossom eyes had lost all luster. He could only vaguely make out a figure moving before him.

“Yin Wenshan, won’t you speak?” The figure approached, prodding his chin with cold metal. “Your superior is dead. No one in your organization trusts you anymore. That once-glorious superstar has become an underground agent. No one will save you. No one will even remember you.”

“If you hand over the list now, maybe I can plead with General Kurihara, who has always admired you. Once you recover, you could still be a superstar in Japan.”

“Qing Zhanpeng,” the tortured man on the frame snorted coldly. “Or should I call you Kurihara Zhanpeng? You realize those corrupt fathers of yours are doomed, right?”

Even though his eyes were almost blind from torment, and his body was as thin as a skeleton, Yin Wenshan paid no heed to the physical abuse, even using it as a basis to judge his situation.

“Before, I was only interrogated once every three days. Now it’s twice a day. I guess you’re about to be expelled from my country, so you’re desperate to find the names and turn the tables.”

He actually laughed.

The long-term torture left him too weak to laugh loudly—just a few soft chuckles before coughing violently.

Even slight movements caused sharp pain in his chest and abdomen; some internal organs must have been broken. Blood foam constantly flowed from the corners of Yin Wenshan’s mouth. He forced himself to stop coughing and fixed his unfocused eyes on the man before him. “I will see the day you are driven out.”

“See?” Kurihara Zhanpeng struck Yin Wenshan’s cheek with the instrument in his hand and shouted near his ear, “You’re blind!”

“Still able to see?!”

Kurihara Zhanpeng seemed to be struck by Yin Wenshan’s words, growing increasingly agitated. “Yin Wenshan, you don’t really think you’re a hero, do you?”

“Do you know how the country and people you protect see you now?”

“Traitor!”

“To them, you’re a traitor despised by all. Even lower than me, Kurihara, in status.”

Yin Wenshan spat out a few teeth knocked loose by the iron tool, then opened his mouth again, blood-filled. His voice, faint as a mosquito, rang deafeningly: “So what?”

“As long as you drive them out of my country, hero or traitor doesn’t matter. As long as they live happily tomorrow, none of this matters.”

“Good. You have strong bones.” Kurihara Zhanpeng’s fury erupted. “I wanted to give you relief, but if you’re this stubborn, I excel at breaking hard bones.”

The iron tool struck Yin Wenshan’s forearm heavily, leaving a dent where once-smooth lines were, bones shattered completely.

“Ugh.” Yin Wenshan only let out a muffled groan. “Torture me…”

He laughed weakly, the fragile sound, it was unclear who he was speaking to.

“The more tortured a person is before death, the stronger their ghost becomes. I will become a vengeful spirit, haunting you until all invaders are driven out of my country.”

“Ugh!” Another groan—the leg bone shattered this time.

The iron struck again, dull thuds echoing. Yin Wenshan could speak no more, fainting from pain again.

“Fainting won’t end it.” Kurihara Zhanpeng sneered, bringing a bucket of ice water to dunk his head to wake him.

“Drip! Drip! Drip!” Suddenly, the alarm on the ceiling shrieked sharply—a warning to evacuate.

But Kurihara Zhanpeng had descended into madness; all he cared about was continuing to torture this man to death.

Yin Wenshan’s head was pressed into the ice water. The water quickly turned red with blood from his mouth and nose, yet he had no strength to even open his eyes.

Water filled his ears as well. Yin Wenshan felt his sense of everything disappear completely, like sinking into a pitch-black deep sea.

“Boom!”

A tremendous sound seemed to travel from the surface of the sea. He faintly heard an enormous explosion.

The entire underground torture room shook. Someone had discovered the place; the enemy needed to evacuate.

This was Yin Wenshan’s last thought—perhaps they would actually be defeated.

A pity—he seemed unable to see it.

A faint smile appeared on his lips as he allowed himself to sink fully into darkness.

Massive stones continued to fall. By the time Kurihara Zhanpeng regained his senses, it was too late.

The doorframe had already been crushed beyond recognition, and the stairs to the surface were blocked by rubble.

The air in the room thinned. Kurihara Zhanpeng, like a headless fly, frantically searched for an exit, but all exits had vanished.

He looked at Yin Wenshan on the frame, tortured beyond recognition and completely lifeless.

Unexpectedly, in the end, they would die together.

Drawing the sidearm from his waist, gun barrel pressed to his temple, Kurihara Zhanpeng gave a bitter laugh and pulled the trigger.

Bang!

At that moment, the person on the frame suddenly opened his eyes.

“Yin Wenshan, Yin Wenshan!” A trembling, pained voice called out. “Wake up! We’ve won!”

It was Qian Shuyun.

Outside the illusion, Xie Jixing stared intently at the scene inside. If Qian Shuyun couldn’t successfully awaken Yin Wenshan’s soul, he would forcibly break through the illusion and pull Qian Shuyun out.

The other soul gave no response.

“We’ve won,” Qian Shuyun’s voice grew increasingly urgent. “The world you wanted has already arrived!”

“Yin Wenshan, are you willing to come see it with me?”

“To see the world you imagined and would have given your life for.”

Qian Shuyun’s voice was now hoarse, tinged with sobs.

“Won?”

That single word was very weak, yet it was keenly caught.

“Yes!” Qian Shuyun replied urgently. “We’ve won. Modern China has already become the world you envisioned. Yin Wenshan, don’t you want to see it?”

“See?” There was another weak reply. “But my eyes… I can no longer see.”

“I’m tired. I want to have a proper sleep.”

Yin Wenshan’s soul disappeared again. The figure on the rack suddenly lifted his head sharply, staring straight ahead, eyes full of pleading.

Qian Shuyun knew that Xie Jixing was at the end of his line of sight.

Please, save him. I want him to see this world too.