TFBAT – Chapter 43

Yuan Wu looked at her with a faint, knowing smile — as if telling her that what she hoped for was simply impossible.

Chi Yuyang averted her gaze, looking instead at the “Hu Jin” standing behind him — the one who had been created.

Ever since she realized something was wrong, that “Hu Jin” had stopped moving. The ferocious expression on his face had gradually faded away, and now he stood there like a machine, waiting for his master’s next command.

Meanwhile, Xue Ye stood frozen on the other side, motionless.

Chi Yuyang guessed it was because Yuan Wu was dividing his attention to speak with her, and so he had to temporarily abandon control of the other figures within the illusion.

She cast another glance at Hu Jin — and immediately looked away.

That lifeless, empty look in his eyes — she had only ever seen it once before on Hu Jin’s face in reality.

— The first time they met.

When Hu Jin was still a young cub, and she had just rescued him — in the instant he opened his eyes, she had seen that fleeting emotion of despair flash across them.

At the time, Chi Yuyang thought it was her imagination, that the pressure and exhaustion had made her see something human-like in a tiger’s eyes.

Besides, that emotion had appeared so briefly that she hadn’t had time to think before it vanished.

But now, looking back…

Chi Yuyang lifted her head again, meeting Yuan Wu’s gaze.

He could have poisoned Hu Jin at any other time, yet he had chosen to do it right when Hu Jin was advancing in rank.

If the poison had no effect on Hu Jin — or not a significant one — then all of Yuan Wu’s effort would have been in vain.

“You didn’t just want Hu Jin’s life,” Chi Yuyang said coldly. “You wanted to destroy what mattered to him the most.”

Back then, what was most important to Hu Jin was, without a doubt, his power.

“His strength,” Chi Yuyang sneered. “Unfortunately for you, Hu Jin was too strong — your poison couldn’t take his life.”

Too strong?

As she looked at Yuan Wu’s smiling, silent face, a thought flashed through Chi Yuyang’s mind.

Yuan Wu was meticulous — the kind of person who wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating Hu Jin’s power. If anything, he’d be the one most obsessed with the limits of it.

Once she calmed down, Chi Yuyang realized she’d trapped herself in a certain line of reasoning.

She had always thought Yuan Wu’s hatred was aimed at the entire Tiger Clan — but if that was only a smokescreen, then many things could finally make sense.

For example, the poisoning of Hu Ya might have been an accident.

But Hu Ya’s near-death condition afterward was undeniably real.

Her own appearance had indeed caught Yuan Wu off guard, yet everything that had happened since seemed to have followed a plan — his plan.

If she hadn’t appeared… what would Yuan Wu have done?

“At that time, what Hu Jin valued most was his power — but he didn’t understand the price of advancement. Once he attempted to advance, he was doomed to lose all that strength and revert to his cub form.”

Chi Yuyang recalled how Hu Jin’s three brothers had continued tracking him afterward. If Hu Jin had truly died as a result of failed advancement, that pursuit would have been meaningless.

Perhaps they had been trying to confirm whether Hu Jin was really dead — but more likely, Yuan Wu had known from the start that Hu Jin wouldn’t simply vanish.

“So you were waiting for the moment Hu Jin turned back into a cub.”

Yuan Wu couldn’t enter the Tiger Clan’s territory, but he could manipulate the minds of other beastmen. And Hu Jin’s three useless brothers — they were far easier to control than others. Using them to strike would also deal a deeper blow to Hu Jin’s spirit.

To be abandoned by one’s parents, then betrayed and killed by one’s own kin — even someone as powerful as Hu Jin would eventually have his will broken.

Or perhaps Yuan Wu hadn’t even needed to act directly. He could have simply controlled Hu Jin’s brothers and made them feed him the cacao beans — one dose, and the cub Hu Jin would die instantly.

Such a vicious mind!

“Too bad,” Yuan Wu sneered, unruffled even after she’d seen through him. “His life is just too stubborn to end. But then, that’s to be expected — after all, his power comes from our father, a mighty fifth-rank beastman.”

At that moment, his face was flushed with color; his once-feeble voice had grown strong and resonant.

Yet Chi Yuyang still caught the unmistakable traces of jealousy and hatred laced between his words.

This entire illusion was under his control.

He could shape himself into whatever image he desired.

But in reality, he was likely still that same frail man.

And from his tone, it sounded as though he believed that — if not for his physical weakness — he would have surpassed Hu Jin long ago.

Chi Yuyang silently shook her head.

Hu Jin, as the only member of the Tiger Clan to reach the fourth rank upon adulthood, had clearly achieved it through more than just talent — he must have worked incredibly hard.

Since Yuan Wu himself had reached the fourth rank, he should have understood how grueling that path was — yet he continued to deny Hu Jin’s ability.

No, perhaps it wasn’t denial.

Perhaps, as another child of Xue Ye, he simply couldn’t bear that he had been cursed with frailty, while Hu Jin had been blessed with strength. It was unfair.

Chi Yuyang remembered her earlier assumption — that Yuan Wu wanted Hu Jin’s life.

If that was true, then Yuan Wu’s advancement must have come at the cost of his own lifespan; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been so desperate for Hu Jin to “extend” it for him.

“Chi,” he said now, his tone chillingly soft, “don’t waste your energy.”

At this point, he could already read her thoughts — not all of them, but enough to understand the general idea.

When he saw her lost in thought, Yuan Wu reached out a hand, intending to touch her face.

Chi Yuyang immediately snapped back to awareness. She took a quick step back and slapped his hand away.

“Please, mind your manners.”

The temperature of Yuan Wu’s hand was icy cold—completely unlike the warmth of the hands that so often held her.

It had only been a short while since she left him, yet Chi Yuyang already missed Hu Jin’s body heat. She wondered what that tiger was thinking about right now.

“You’ve long known that the price of ascension is to trade away something precious!” Hu Jin didn’t directly answer the question about choice. “You hate me—not because I’m of the tiger tribe, but because I possess something you’ll never have.”

At that moment, Hu Jin could feel the oppressive aura radiating from Yuan Wu growing stronger.  But with that growing pressure came the steady fading of his life force.

“The price of your ascension… was your life,” Hu Jin said after a pause. “So what now? You want to use my life to extend your own? Or steal my strength?”

Yuan Wu coughed up a mouthful of blood, took a moment to recover, and replied slowly, “And what if I do?”

His words came out sluggishly, tinged with a strange, unreadable emotion.

These two—one trapped within an illusion, the other struggling in reality—were, at this very moment, thinking of the same thing. How long had they even known each other, yet already shared such tacit understanding?

Why was Hu Jin the one who got to have a mate who loved him so deeply?

At that thought, an image suddenly surfaced in Yuan Wu’s mind—Hu Jin’s mother.

That detestable tigress!

Hu Jin saw the shifting emotions in Yuan Wu’s expression, and madness gradually crept into his own eyes.

His voice turned cold and sharp. “No need for you to choose anymore. Go to hell!”

Inside the illusion, Yuan Wu’s demeanor changed drastically.

Chi Yuyang saw his eyes flicker, the colors of blue and black intertwining—so erratic it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

“Yuan Wu?” She hadn’t expected him to react so violently.

“You two—die together!” Yuan Wu’s eyes snapped wide open.

The next second, he lunged toward her, trying to grab her by the throat.

Chi Yuyang dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding his grasp. She stared at the panting man before her, her heart pounding in alarm.

Something was wrong.

Yuan Wu’s behavior—it was as if someone had taken control of his body. Just like before they had arrived at Lord Xue’s snow hut.

At that time, Lord Xue had called out a name. And Yuan Wu had mentioned that his mother once resided within his body.

If Yuan Wu hadn’t taken control of her back then, that would mean everything that happened at that time had been real.

Chi Yuyang steadied herself, feeling her heart thudding beneath her palm, and exhaled deeply.

Then she stepped back, maintaining a safe distance.

“Are you Yuan Wu’s mother?” she asked cautiously. “Yuan Yan?”

The instant the name “Yuan Yan” left her lips, the man before her suddenly froze mid-lunge.

Yuan Wu’s dark pupils lost their focus.

“…We’re inside your son’s illusion right now. Logically speaking, you shouldn’t be able to kill me,” Chi Yuyang said, though it was only a guess.

But since Yuan Wu had revived after being “killed” by Hu Jin, it proved that whatever happened within the illusion didn’t affect the real world.

Seeing that Yuan Wu had stopped moving, she continued, “I have a theory—about Lord Xue.”

“Go on.”

Yuan Wu suddenly spoke. “Chi, I’m sorry. My mother frightened you.”

With that, he sat down. A gentle, calm smile spread across his face, as though to reassure her.

But to Chi Yuyang, the sight was only eerie.

She met his gaze and saw that his eyes were mismatched—one blue, one black. Yet the blue one looked like a lifeless glass bead, lacking even a fraction of the vividness of Hu Jin’s heterochromatic eyes.

“Heterochromia—is it really that beautiful?” Yuan Wu asked.

The question startled Chi Yuyang just as she was about to speak.

He could read her thoughts?

“I can’t hear all of them,” Yuan Wu said, “but I can catch most.”

“…It’s not the heterochromia that’s beautiful,” she explained carefully, treating him like a ticking time bomb. “It’s the liveliness in Hu Jin’s eyes. Lord Xue’s eyes, on the other hand…”

They’re utterly cold.

She kept those last four words to herself.

“To me,” she said aloud, “they’re no different from any other beastman’s eyes.”

She rushed to finish her sentence, then quickly changed the subject. “Speaking of Lord Xue, I wanted to ask—what was the price he paid to ascend?”

“Why don’t you guess?” Yuan Wu, uncharacteristically, didn’t answer right away. But his expression grew darker, heavier.

That gave Chi Yuyang some confidence.

“I heard from Xue Yin that the Snow Tiger clan cares deeply about their offspring.” She paused, watching for Yuan Wu’s reaction.

“You and your mother—do you both believe the price Lord Xue paid for ascension was his descendants?”

“You’re Hu Jin’s elder brother, yet you survived. And you said your mother resides within you—so was it she who gave her life to prolong yours?”

As her words fell, Yuan Wu’s complexion worsened by the second. But Chi Yuyang still hadn’t escaped from the illusion.

It seemed Yuan Wu had great faith in her intelligence—none of this surprised him in the least.

“Haah…”

Seeing that, Chi Yuyang could only keep going.

“But I don’t think that’s the case.”

As she spoke, an image of her tiger appeared vividly before her eyes—his gleaming, brilliant eyes.

Though she believed most of his personality came from his experiences within the illusion, perhaps a small part of it was innate.

“The price Lord Xue paid for ascension…”