Chapter Sixty-Eight: You Are the Shadow of the Nether

Update time: 2013-07-02

By now, Lian Yue had completely forgotten what it meant to be polite or reserved. In the presence of the fragrant grilled fish, such things could be set aside for the moment. Fortunately, she did not forget to thank Yuwen Lingxi.

With her lips pursed, Lian Yue blew on the steaming fish before her. The delicacy was right in front of her, but it was simply too hot. She already looked quite disheveled and had no desire to end up with a ring of blisters around her lips.

Yet to Yuwen Lingxi, who was still tending the fish, this scene was indescribably endearing. For the first time, he felt that the hellish days he’d endured in the past had been worthwhile. At the very least, those experiences had taught him self-reliance.

If, like Lian Yue, he had grown up pampered and coddled, then in their current predicament, the two of them would probably be left gazing helplessly at the fish in the lake, or, even if they managed to catch some, the result would most likely be a pile of charred remains.

In short, Yuwen Lingxi was in an extraordinarily good mood.

Lian Yue was faring well herself. She had barely taken her first bite before nearly biting her tongue—it was simply too delicious. No seasoning had been used, yet there was no trace of fishiness or smoke, only pure freshness. One bite led irresistibly to the next, and soon, under her relentless assault, all that remained was a fish head and a skeletal frame.

Licking her lips, still not quite satisfied, Lian Yue saw another golden, crisp, aromatic fish appear before her. She immediately tossed aside the cold scraps in her hand, replacing them with the fresh delicacy. Just as she was about to take a bite, she recalled the chef beside her. Glancing up with her mouth still open, she saw that he hadn’t yet tasted a single bite.

Reluctantly, Lian Yue looked at the fish in her hands, steeled her heart, and handed it back. “Um, you should eat this one first. I’ll wait for the next.”

Though his mask concealed his smile, Yuwen Lingxi’s eyes betrayed his lightheartedness. He felt an unprecedented ease as he casually took another grilled fish from the rack.

With a cheerful tone, he said to Lian Yue, who kept casting longing glances at the fish she had just given up, “This one’s ready too. I’ll have this one, it’s fine.”

Only then did Lian Yue, without further ceremony, happily bring the fish to her lips and gnaw away with satisfaction.

In contrast to her ravenous devouring, Yuwen Lingxi ate with much more refinement—perhaps due to the mask he wore.

By the time Lian Yue had reduced her second fish to a pile of bones, Yuwen Lingxi had only eaten half of his. Patting her now slightly rounded belly, Lian Yue gazed longingly at the remaining grilled fish by the rack and let out a contented burp.

Now, even if she wanted more, she couldn’t possibly eat another bite. So, she turned her attention to watching Yuwen Lingxi, who continued to methodically dissect his unfortunate fish.

Forgive her for using the word “dissect,” but Lian Yue could think of no better way to describe it. With one hand holding the skewer, he slowly tore off a piece of fish with the other, then leisurely brought it to his mouth beneath the mask.

Truth be told, if not for the pleasing nature of his movements, Lian Yue’s character would have led her to snatch the fish away and stuff it into his mouth herself. Stifling that impulse, she let her curiosity drift to his mask.

“Um, Anming, why do you always wear a mask? Isn’t it awfully inconvenient for eating?” In truth, Lian Yue was simply curious to see what he looked like beneath it.

Yuwen Lingxi swallowed the mouthful of fish he’d just chewed. At the mention of his name, he realized Lian Yue apparently had no idea who he was. “You don’t know my identity?”

“What identity? That of a murderer? That much I know.” In the few short hours they’d spent together, Lian Yue had already decided that the now-extinct Tian family’s second branch were wretches who deserved their fate. Naturally, the man before her was a bringer of justice, a hero who rid the world of evil, and her initial fear was long gone.

“Rakshasa Hall. Anming.”

“I know your name is Anming, there’s no need to tell me again—” Lian Yue suddenly widened her eyes in terror and cried out, “What! What did you say? You’re… you’re Anming of… of Rakshasa Hall?”

Yuwen Lingxi watched the fear spread across her face; the light in his eyes darkened and his relaxed posture stiffened. So she finally remembered who he was. He nodded in affirmation.

The terror in Lian Yue’s heart sprang forth like wild grass after the spring rain, growing ever higher. Even after he admitted it, she still found it hard to believe. This calm man, sitting only a few steps away, who had saved her life and graciously roasted fish for her—he was the same black-clad killer she’d heard of countless times at the Yue and Hidden Sects: the infamous madman.

Rakshasa Hall, the only one among the Eight Great Powers specializing in assassination. It was said they possessed a black list and a red list; as long as you could pay the price, they would kill anyone not on the red list for you. But if your target happened to be on their black list, you were in luck: Rakshasa Hall would deal with them for free. Thus, throughout the entire Empire of Nizhang, everyone prayed their name was on the red list, and never on the black.

Rumor also had it that Rakshasa Hall numbered fewer than a hundred members, yet they remained one of the Eight Great Powers, never swallowed up by others—a testament to their fearsome reputation.

Anming, the 137th master of Rakshasa Hall, was notorious for his bloodlust—a king of the night who had never once failed a mission. In his world, only two kinds of people existed: those about to die, and the dead.

Anming always appeared masked; it was said that only the dead had seen his true face.

And now, one such person was eating fish with quiet refinement while telling Lian Yue he was that very Anming. No matter how strong her heart, this revelation left her utterly shaken.

Once again, she felt her life hanging by a thread. Only moments ago, she’d even been curious to see what lay beneath the mask of this so-called Anming.

Lian Yue even wondered which of the two kinds of people she was, in his eyes.

“Are you sure you’re that Anming, and not some other Anming?” Lian Yue still refused to believe the truth.

But under her wary gaze, Yuwen Lingxi nodded again.

Lian Yue was seized by the urge to flee—if only her legs hadn’t gone limp.

Yuwen Lingxi, of course, had heard the rumors about himself. Though Lian Yue tried to hide her fear, as a professional assassin, he detected even the slightest change. “Am I really that frightening?”

His deep, hoarse voice sounded to Lian Yue like a death knell. Waving her hands frantically, she protested unconvincingly, “No…no…not scary…not at all!”

But the tremor in her voice betrayed her. How could she not be afraid? She was terrified, nearly to death!

“Don’t worry. I won’t harm you.” Setting aside his half-eaten fish, Yuwen Lingxi stood and walked into the nearby woods, a touch of hurt in his heart.

Watching him disappear into the trees, Lian Yue felt her pounding heart gradually slow, only to be replaced by guilt. In truth, the Anming she had encountered was nothing like the rumors.

Had she just hurt his feelings with her reaction? Should she go and apologize?

She berated herself, but couldn’t muster the courage. The name Anming carried too much weight—it would take time to process. The night was drawing in, and they had yet to find a way out or receive rescue. That meant she would be spending the night with the infamous Anming, a killer through and through. It was an inhuman challenge.

Though a small voice within reassured her that this man could be trusted, Lian Yue still couldn’t overcome her own fears.

Soon, Yuwen Lingxi returned with a bundle of dry branches, tossing them by the fire before heading back into the woods. Hugging her knees, Lian Yue watched him make several trips back and forth, and the more she watched, the less he seemed like a villain. If the rumors were true, she thought, she would already be dead.

Yet she was still alive, and her life had been saved by this man. She had to rely on him even for food.

Besides, she realized, if she kept acting so afraid, she might truly provoke him—and then she’d lose her life for sure.

Lian Yue now bitterly regretted her past choices. When her mother let her choose a martial art to study, why had she been so impulsive? Now, her internal energy was only useful with special silver needles. Ah… people should never be greedy. She had only seen the power promised at the end, forgetting how slow the progress would be.

Now, she was reaping what she had sown. Without her needles, she was no different from a helpless novice, forced to worry about her life at every turn.