ABFMV Chapter 12

The boy’s silver hair was matted with blood, streaking down from his temple in winding rivulets until half his face was smeared with a terrifying crimson stain.

His once-white shirt was slashed open in several places, and through the torn fabric were claw marks—bloody, grotesque, and brutal.

One arm hung at an unnatural angle, as if it had been forcibly twisted out of place, while the wound in his abdomen continued to bleed without stopping.

When he first looked at her, his eyes surged with an indescribable emotion—only to quickly fall silent again.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, but he said nothing.

Qiye had followed the inheritance’s guidance to find the Purple Twin Grass, but the instructions had never mentioned that after consuming it, he would enter an extremely vulnerable period.

During this time, his body would revert to its half-blood state, his genes degrading to the lowest F-rank—so weak that even an ordinary human could kill him barehanded.

The fusion of his bloodlines was excruciatingly painful, like thousands of ants gnawing at his heart, his body convulsing beyond control. The process would last for two days and one night before it was complete.

But his luck had always been bad. The place he chose to hide was attacked by a beast. Helpless to fight back, he could only drag his wounded body into this cave before collapsing completely.

When he finally awoke, he saw Xu Linlang. She was speaking to him in the gentlest voice, asking softly, “Does it hurt?”

Qiye’s first instinct was to answer, but then he realized—this was the form everyone in the galaxy despised.

He could still remember the way people had looked at him: panic, horror, and undisguised disgust. They shrank away, pointed at him, and cursed that he should never have existed in this world.

His fingers curled faintly. In this state, wouldn’t the girl recoil from him as well?

After all, who would ever draw near to a monster?

He told himself it was only natural, and yet the thought filled him with a bitter ache.

As he lowered his gaze and braced himself against the stabbing pain in his wounds, a trembling hand suddenly pressed gently against his abdomen.

Xu Linlang’s heart pounded like a drum. She knew this boy was destined to be the one who would kill her in the future. Yet without hesitation, she loosened the satin sash from her dress, leaned forward, and began carefully cleaning the blood from his stomach.

Qiye’s pale-gold pupils contracted sharply, his long lashes quivering. Stunned, he stared at her tending his wounds, unable to blink.

How could this be—

Even though he looked so wretched and pitiful, there was no fear or revulsion in the clarity of her eyes. Instead, she smiled softly, steadily wiping away the blood.

Was this an illusion?

Why would she treat him so tenderly? He was nothing but a reviled half-breed, his body tainted with filthy “insect blood.”

Her movements made the pain sharper, like countless metal needles piercing through his flesh.

Half-lidding his eyes, Qiye forced his trembling heartbeat under control, crushing down the unfamiliar stirrings in his chest.

He couldn’t let himself think this way. Maybe she was just like Chi Mo—pretending to care for him, only to summon the military once his guard was down.

That was the only benefit anyone could gain by tending to him.

Otherwise, who would waste their kindness on a mongrel like him?

His breath grew uneven, his head drooping, his fingers clenching weakly.

He knew Xu Linlang was kind-hearted. He shouldn’t malign her by comparing her to someone as treacherous as Chi Mo.

But even the kindly old neighbor grandmother couldn’t accept him. How could a young lady from the Marshal’s household possibly do so?

He didn’t want to pin all his hopes on another person again. The pain of betrayal was despair itself, and he couldn’t endure it a second time.

Forcing down that faint flicker of feeling, Qiye turned his head away, avoiding Xu Linlang’s gaze.

Moonlight spilled over his pale-gold eyes, making them look colder still, his sharp features softened now with a trace of vulnerability.

The sight made Xu Linlang’s heart ache. Especially when she saw the once-white sash in her hands now stained a rusty red from his blood, and the blue veins standing out starkly along his neck.

“Did you run into some powerful beast?” she finally broke the silence to ask.

His lips pressed into a thin line. He gave her no reply.

But Xu Linlang wasn’t discouraged. She already understood the villain’s temperament from the game. If he were being overly friendly to her right now, that would be the truly frightening part.

His injuries were severe. Even with her best effort, binding the wounds couldn’t stop the bleeding.

If this went on, Qiye could very well bleed to death.

Xu Linlang looked at the inflamed, reddened edges of his other wounds, and her eyes stung. She had never imagined that someone who would one day be so proud and powerful could now be so battered and helpless, on the verge of dying, without even the ability to defend himself.

That was it—self-defense.

Before she had left home, Rong Ruyue had tucked a vial of nanomedicine into her personal terminal, telling her it was for self-protection and that she must use it if she were ever badly injured.

Xu Linlang pressed the small red recessed button on the back of her terminal, and a tiny drawer popped open. Inside lay a single ice-blue injector.

It was minuscule, no larger than half a fine embroidery needle, but it glowed faintly, carrying a sleek, inorganic beauty.

She stared at it for a long moment, bit down on her lip, and decided to gamble—treat a dying horse like a living one.

She couldn’t just sit there and watch Qi Ye die.

Xu Linlang picked up the injector, followed the instructions projected on the light screen, and slowly pressed it into the deepest of Qi Ye’s wounds.

Qi Ye’s eyes flew open. He tried to push her hand away. “What are you doing?”

But he was a step too late. The ice-blue serum, the moment it touched his blood, dissolved into glowing motes and sank fully into the wound.

A sudden, heavy ache shot through his chest, making his breath burn. Ice-blue medicine… He remembered—among the Empire’s arsenal against the Zerg, one kind was this very color.

Qi Ye gave Xu Linlang a faint, bitter smile, full of self-mockery.

Of course. He couldn’t trust anyone.

Even a girl who showered affection on a stray kitten without hesitation, when she saw him, she chose to eliminate him without mercy.

So his very existence really was a mistake?

Xu Linlang wanted to explain that she was trying to save him, but the sight of blood slowly slipping from the corner of his mouth froze her in place.

What?

That serum—Rong Ruyue had given it to her for self-preservation. How could using it on Qi Ye make his wounds worse instead of better?

Something was wrong.

She looked up, meeting Qi Ye’s gaze—cold, filled with despair.

Her chest clenched painfully.

But Qi Ye turned away from her. Enormous wings unfurled from his back, and in an instant, he was gone, flying out of the cave.

He didn’t make it far. He crashed into the thick underbrush, his last reserve of strength spent.

The agony of hitting the ground was nothing compared to the pain the serum caused—the unbearable pain of betrayal.

His body convulsed violently, and he writhed on the ground like a pitiful clown, humiliated by the torment.

He must look utterly hideous now.

Maybe that was for the best. After all, this life was only his because Xu Linlang had saved it—if she wanted him dead, then he might as well die.

Only… he didn’t want to die before her eyes in such a grotesque, twisted state.

At least let him keep that last shred of dignity.

…

Xu Linlang bit at her finger anxiously as she stared in the direction Qi Ye had gone. She had even tried to climb the cliff face, but it was far too high—she couldn’t make it.

This had to be a terrible misunderstanding.

She had only wanted to save him, but somehow it had backfired, only worsening his wounds.

Sliding down against the stone wall, she sat weakly on the ground. She had been far too clever for her own good. And now, thanks to her, Qi Ye might die.

The guilt of having indirectly killed someone pressed on her chest until she could hardly breathe.

Even if Qi Ye miraculously survived, he would surely believe she had meant to harm him. That would make them enemies forever.

And one day, Qi Ye would certainly kill her.

The mere thought of either outcome made her head spin.

To make matters worse, she was now stuck here all alone, in this godforsaken place with no signal.