Volume Two: The Mortal Realm Chapter Forty-Four: The Lonely Soul, Lost to the World

Is this young man really from ancient times?

Of course, it was just a fleeting thought—he didn’t truly believe it himself.

As for whether the boy was a native of the Misty Sea?

That had never crossed Li Han’s mind. He remembered the immortal who had sent them here saying that, in the Misty Sea, all beasts could reproduce—only the human race could not. Not even immortals could enter this place easily.

There were some beings who did not permit it.

The pale youth’s exchange with the fishermen quickly ground to a halt, hindered by the language barrier.

In the end, it was Li Han who broke the stalemate. He didn’t know exactly what the pale youth wanted to express. All he could see was that, for now, the boy seemed to harbor no malice toward them—he just couldn’t fathom why he wouldn’t let them leave.

To avoid provoking this extremely dangerous person—and with two more wounded added to their group—Li Han decided they would rest and recover at their current spot.

As the men went to carry their two injured companions, each step was taken with trepidation. Whenever they glanced at the figure standing under the tree, head bowed, and saw he made no movement, their courage grew and they moved a little faster.

Soon, they carefully brought over both Bamboo Pole, who had been dragged into the mist by the tiger, and the other injured man.

Bamboo Pole was fortunate—he had barely entered the mist when the strange youth rescued him. He had only suffered a gash on his shoulder; though he bled profusely, his life was not in immediate danger.

But when they saw the other man, the atmosphere sank into oppressive silence, and suffocating dread gripped their hearts anew.

This unlucky soul, dragged into the mist for less than a quarter of an hour, had been disemboweled. Though he still drew breath, everyone knew it was only a matter of time.

They had landed on the island less than half a day ago, and already they had suffered another death and another wound. And this was with someone coming to their aid—without that, who knew how many would be left?

“Brother Li, do you really think we’ll make it back to the village?”

“If we can’t return, we won’t be able to hand in the year’s quota. Will we not only die, but bring calamity upon our families as well?”

This time, it was not the timid Fang Wu who spoke, but his usually steady brother Fang Si. Even his steady voice trembled with anxiety.

“We will get out. Trust me. I’ve walked this road several times. We can make it out again.”

“But you must all obey my orders.”

Li Han’s gaze, solemn and resolute, swept over the faces before him—each etched with terror and worry. His tone was stern.

“When something unusual happens, do not shout or act rashly.”

“This sea is unlike any you have encountered before. Anything is possible here. The more you fear death, the likelier it comes for you. If you want to live, do not fear death.”

One by one, his companions met his eyes. No one spoke; they merely nodded dully when his gaze lingered on them.

They knew Li Han was right—fear only led to death. But they were just ordinary fishermen. They didn’t want to die, but it was too hard not to fear death.

Confidence in their survival eluded them.

Dying was hard. The dying man lingered in agony for quite a while before finally passing, unwilling. But burying a person was easy—Liu Old Han and another man, Zhao Guang, soon dug a deep pit in the damp forest.

They set the body in the ground and filled the grave.

Through it all, they whispered softly, talking about their lost companion, the wives and children waiting in the village, this strange sea, and their own fates.

The pale youth sat cross-legged under a nearby tree, his pallid face veiled by long hair, silently watching and listening to everything they did and said.

“Brother, what do we do about that strange fellow?” Fang Si, seeing the burial done and Bamboo Pole’s wound dressed, came to Li Han and whispered in his ear.

“If he doesn’t leave, we can’t just stay here with him forever…”

As he spoke, he instinctively glanced at the figure under the tree and felt as though those eyes, behind the curtain of hair, were watching him. A chill ran down his spine.

Li Han looked at the youth as well, then turned to Fang Si and replied quietly, “Let’s wait for now. We’ll eat here and see what happens. Perhaps he’ll leave on his own soon.”

“Hey—where did he go?”

No sooner had Li Han finished speaking than Liu Old Han, who was facing the youth’s direction, exclaimed in surprise.

Li Han and Fang Si turned, only to find that the figure beneath the tree had vanished in the blink of an eye.

They were all left uneasy and bewildered.

“Let’s take this chance to leave quickly,” Fang Si said to Li Han.

“Alright.”

Unable to judge the youth’s intentions, Li Han decided it was best to avoid him altogether.

After hurriedly gathering their things, they had only walked a short distance when the previously silent forest erupted with the sounds of beasts fleeing and roaring.

Frightened, the group turned in the opposite direction, only to find their path blocked by the pale youth, who was carrying a wild goat on his shoulders. He looked at them with blood-red, vacant eyes, as though puzzled.

“Aren’t we… eating?” he said to them.

The others hadn’t yet processed the situation, but Li Han’s eyes widened at these words.

The youth set down the wild goat and, gazing at them with blood-colored eyes, continued, “Take me… I’ll protect… you.”

His speech was halting and awkward, the phrases barely intelligible—a patchwork of simple words.

Yet Li Han was stunned, for the boy was now speaking fluent dialect from Beihai County, not the strange language he’d used before!

Just two hours ago, the youth hadn’t understood even the simplest questions.

Li Han recalled the youth sitting quietly under the tree, listening to their speech. They had been using the Beihai County dialect—had he been learning their language all that time?

In so short a time, without anyone teaching him, he had mastered their tongue?!

“Take me. I’ll protect… you,” the pale youth repeated with his rough Beihai County dialect as the others stared in shock.

“Is that alright?” He tilted his head, and his blood-red eyes shone with the innocent clarity of a newborn beast.

Though his body was still spattered with blood, the savage, beast-like aura from before had greatly diminished.

So… was it all right?

Fang Si looked at Li Han. Fang Wu looked at Li Han. Liu Old Han looked at Li Han. Zhao Guang looked at Li Han. Li Han wished he could look at the still-unconscious Bamboo Pole so he wouldn’t have to answer, but that was clearly impossible.

He wanted to say no, but that, too, was impossible. Because… he dared not.

A being who could tear a tiger apart with his bare hands, who, after only two hours of overhearing their conversations, could roughly converse in their language—who would dare refuse such a monster?

“Alright,” Li Han finally forced out the simple word.

The strange youth tilted his head and smiled, his expression pure and clear.

Soon after, a fire blazed in the forest, filling the air with the aroma of roasting meat—the wild goat brought by the monster youth.

He proved exceedingly attentive, gathering wood, lighting the fire, and preparing the meat, taking charge of the whole meal. Miraculously, he even produced various spice packets from his person: pepper, salt, sugar, and other strange seasonings they had never seen.

Despite being drenched from the humid forest, all the spice packets he carried were perfectly dry.

Such devotion to food was… admirable.

As the fire roared and the mutton roasted, the youth swiftly sprinkled seasonings across all the meat with dazzling speed.

The moment the flames brought out the flavors, the aroma burst forth, richer and more complex than any had ever known, instantly distracting the anxious men from their fears.

Before the meat was even done, the rumbling of their stomachs drowned out the crackling of the firewood.

The youth looked up at them with a gentle smile.

The men—reduced to idle bystanders—awkwardly scratched their heads. The way they looked at the youth, whom they had previously regarded as a monster, had softened considerably.

A lover of good food is often a lover of life—and one who cherishes life is rarely savage or cruel.

And to enjoy fine food together with such a companion—what happiness!

Once the meat was cooked, the men hesitated, unsure if they should reach for it.

As if to dispel their fears, the youth was the first to seize a piece of roast and eat heartily.

“Eat!”

This single word, all the youth could manage in Beihai County speech, was enough to invite them all to the meal.

Ravenous, the men eagerly dove in, their fear quickly conquered by the delicious roast. Every face lit up with unfeigned satisfaction.

If it was poisoned, so be it—after all, he could kill a tiger barehanded. If he wanted them dead, they couldn’t resist anyway.

With such exquisite food, these men, who had never tasted anything so delicious, had abandoned all caution.

The flames burned warmly, and with hot food in their bellies, much of their fear and exhaustion melted away. In this cozy atmosphere, with the youth’s gentle presence, the men began to chat and laugh quietly among themselves.

The youth ate little himself, mostly tending the roasting meat.

He listened quietly to their laughter, the crackling of the fire, and watched the juices sizzle from the meat, fragrant smoke curling upwards.

Just as in so many years in that other world.

He was still so young, yet suddenly felt old beyond measure—a lonely soul in this world, gazing upon the joys and sorrows of a different lifetime.

He listened intently to their words, then picked up a stick and wrote three characters in the earth for Li Han to see, softly pronouncing each newly learned word.

“My name is Ye Mingke.”