HNYWEF -Chapter 140 The Lost One

In the eleventh year of the Great Ye era. Wagang Stronghold.

The autumn sun hung overhead, warm and gentle.

Inside the stronghold, people moved in dense clusters—laughter, shouting, and curses all mixing into one chaotic noise.

The Jia stronghold had taken in many new faces. And today, there were newcomers again.

Zhou Xiong stood in the middle of the stronghold, surrounded by a crowd.

Cheng Yaojin slapped him on the shoulder and laughed heartily; Shan Xiongxin stood nearby with a smile; Xu Shiji examined him up and down with a measuring gaze; and a few others whose names he didn’t know all leaned in to join the excitement.

Zhou Xiong wore a smile on his face, but his eyes were scanning the surroundings.

He swept across the crowd—and landed on a corner.

There stood a man.

In his early twenties, dressed in plain rough-spun cloth, leaning against a pillar, not approaching.

He was looking this way, his face showing no expression at all.

Not cold. Not warm. Just watching from a distance like that.

Zhou Xiong’s gaze met his for a brief moment.

The man looked away.

Zhou Xiong did not look again.

After a while, the crowd gradually dispersed. Cheng Yaojin dragged Zhou Xiong off for drinks, and Zhou Xiong was pulled away with him.

Qin Qiong remained where he was, unmoving.

He looked toward that corner.

The man was still there, leaning against the pillar, gazing at the sky.

Qin Qiong walked over.

“Yingdeng.”

The man lowered his head and looked at him.

Xie Yingdeng.

It was said he was skilled in archery, famed for his divine marksmanship.

But Qin Qiong knew him for another reason—this man could read faces and fortune, and had some reputation among the outlaws.

Qin Qiong stood in front of him and looked for a moment.

“Why didn’t you come over?”

Xie Yingdeng shook his head.

“There are too many people. I don’t feel like joining the crowd.”

Qin Qiong waited a breath.

“That’s it?”

Xie Yingdeng said nothing.

Qin Qiong waited again.

“You don’t like him?”

Xie Yingdeng shook his head again.

“It’s not that I don’t like him.”

Qin Qiong frowned.

“Then what’s going on? It’s his first day here, and you’re already ignoring him like this?”

Xie Yingdeng looked at him.

That gaze—Qin Qiong couldn’t understand it.

After a few moments, Xie Yingdeng spoke.

His voice was low.

“Brother Qin, come with me.”

He turned and walked toward a quieter place.

Qin Qiong followed.

They walked beneath an old locust tree. No one was around. Xie Yingdeng stopped.

Qin Qiong stood beside him, waiting.

Xie Yingdeng was silent for a while.

Then he spoke.

“That man… is not simple.”

Qin Qiong froze slightly.

“How is he not simple?”

Xie Yingdeng shook his head.

“I can’t put it into words.”

He looked at Qin Qiong.

“But I can tell—he has already endured many hardships. That gaze… it’s not something someone in their early twenties should have.”

Qin Qiong’s brows tightened.

Xie Yingdeng continued, “The way he is now—smiling, talking, blending in with everyone—it’s not his true self.”

Qin Qiong asked, “Then what is his true self?”

Xie Yingdeng thought for a moment.

“I don’t know. But there’s something on him… something heavy. Something pressed down on him. Like he’s been carrying it for many years.”

He paused.

“He’s like a lost man. On the surface he’s walking with everyone, but in his heart, he doesn’t know where he’s going.”

Qin Qiong stood there in silence for a long time.

He looked at Xie Yingdeng’s young face, those clear yet deep eyes.

He knew Xie Yingdeng was not talkative, not very sociable, but good at judging people—and some even said he could read fate.

Qin Qiong didn’t fully believe such things, but after Xie Yingdeng arrived, a few of his judgments had indeed come true.

And now he was calling Zhou Xiong a lost man.

Qin Qiong didn’t know whether to believe it or not.

He stood there a while longer.

Then he spoke.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

Xie Yingdeng looked at him.

“What do you mean, what am I going to do?”

Qin Qiong said, “Just because he’s lost, you’re avoiding him?”

Xie Yingdeng shook his head.

“It’s not avoidance. It’s…”

He thought for a moment.

“I don’t know whether I should get close. A lost man—if you point him the way, he may not listen. If you follow him, you might just get lost together.”

Qin Qiong didn’t really understand.

But he understood one thing—Xie Yingdeng had seen something. There was a secret in Zhou Xiong.

He thought about it.

Who didn’t have secrets?

He had them. Cheng Yaojin had them. Shan Xiongxin had them. Even Li Shimin had them.

Who didn’t carry things they couldn’t speak of?

Qin Qiong turned and looked back toward the stronghold.

Zhou Xiong was being dragged away by Cheng Yaojin, heading toward the drinking tables. He was smiling, talking with the others.

Qin Qiong watched for a while.

Then he spoke.

“Forget it.”

Xie Yingdeng looked at him.

Qin Qiong said, “Let him have his secrets. As long as he’s not here to harm anyone, leave it be.”

He turned and walked back.

After a couple of steps, he suddenly stopped.

Without turning around, he said, “I didn’t hear what you said today. You shouldn’t mention it to anyone either.”

With that, he continued walking.

Xie Yingdeng stood beneath the locust tree, watching his retreating figure.

He watched for a long time.

Then he raised his head and looked at the sky.

The sky was blue.

Blue in a way that felt almost fake.

He stood there for a long time.

From the stronghold, laughter drifted over, mixed with the sounds of drinking games and shouting.

He remained where he was, unmoving.