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Chapter 5: Sharpen this knife and live your life like a human being

Deep in the wind and snow, the Zhang Hunter's back carried the vicissitudes of an aging hero.

A man who could hunt fierce tigers in the mountains alone when he was young was now reduced to eating frogs from the mud. After staring for a long time in the direction where Zhang Hunter disappeared, the cold in the wind finally woke Wen Chaosheng.

He shivered, and using the remaining dim sunlight, he quickly rushed back.

In his arms, wrapped in deerskin and dry grass, were three frozen frogs.

The dry grass was cold from the snow, and Wen Chaosheng's pitifully meager body temperature couldn't wake them from hibernation; they didn't even know their fate was to become soup.

Upon returning to the dilapidated temple, Wen Chaosheng went to fetch firewood from nearby, first lit a fire with hidden flint and dry grass, then dragged a broken pot, threw some snow into it, and placed it on a makeshift stone stove.

As the snow melted, he threw the three frogs from his arms into the water. At this moment, his peripheral vision caught something, and Wen Chaosheng got up and walked around, seeing some chopped firewood piled by the base of the stone statue, and his body trembled slightly.

A moment later, an idea struck him, and he went to the northeast corner of the dilapidated temple, squatting down to examine it.

—There should have been a sharp, brightly polished kindling axe in that brick seam.

But now it was gone.

Wen Chaosheng's heart turned cold, and just as he was about to reach out to search, he heard faint footsteps behind him.

He turned around; it was A Shui.

Her slender body was covered in white, her right leg limped, her left hand held a pile of chopped firewood, and her right hand held the sharp kindling axe that had been hidden in the wall seam of the dilapidated temple.

Crash—

A Shui glanced at him indifferently, slowly walked to the bonfire, threw the pile of firewood on the ground, and then sat down cross-legged.

Wen Chaosheng also came and sat by the bonfire, but his eyes remained fixed on the kindling axe in her hand.

Flames danced on the sharp blade with a dangerous gleam, revealing a deeply hidden Killing Intent.

"Was this knife hidden there by you?" A Shui asked Wen Chaosheng, with her messy hair casually draped across her face.

Her appearance was ordinary, but there was a heroic spirit in her brows that ordinary women lacked, giving her an unusual attraction.

Wen Chaosheng stared at the knife, his eyelids flickering with the firelight:

"It's not a good habit to move other people's things without permission."

Upon hearing this, A Shui turned the blade away and offered the handle of the knife to Wen Chaosheng. After he took it, he carefully examined the blade by the firelight, his gaze deep, lost in thought.

A Shui said:

"You hid a Killing Intent knife; who do you want to kill?"

Wen Chaosheng scoffed, refuting:

"It's just a kindling axe, used for chopping wood; who would I kill?"

A Shui calmly said:

"A kindling axe wouldn't be sharpened this much. The blade is too thin, not suitable for chopping wood... Moreover, I smelled Killing Intent on the knife."

Wen Chaosheng remained silent, just staring at the blade in a daze. Later, when the water in the pot boiled, he put down the knife, picked up a wooden stick next to him, washed it with snow water outside, and then put it into the pot to stir.

A fragrant aroma immediately diffused with the rising white mist.

"Aren't you looking for your parents? Why are you still here?" Wen Chaosheng asked.

As for A Shui's question, it had long been buried by him in the snow outside, blending into the vast expanse, and A Shui also did not continue to press about the knife, saying:

"The yamen runners won't let me in."

Wen Chaosheng looked at her and laughed, "Are you also a refugee?"

A Shui:

"I wasn't before, but I am now."

Wen Chaosheng took a chipped bowl from the dry grass by the wall, served himself a bowl of soup, blew on it a few times, and slowly drank it.

"How interesting..."

"Such a fierce wind outside, blowing all night couldn't kill you; you must not be an ordinary person."

"The kindling axe in the wall crack, I sharpen it every few days; it's very sharp. If you take it, the two yamen runners guarding the county town shouldn't be able to stop you."

A Shui didn't spare the kindling axe another glance, but spoke to herself:

"It's been over ten years; I'm finally back once. I don't want to bring blood debts to my homeland."

Wen Chaosheng finished a bowl of soup, his limbs and body gradually warming. He could even feel the hot current surging through his blood vessels.

Leaning against the base of the broken stone statue, he handed the bowl to A Shui:

"You're lucky; I found eight frogs today. I gave Zhang Hunter five, and there are three left."

"The snow is heavy outside; the frog soup will be filling tonight."

A Shui didn't mind, serving herself a bowl of hot soup, steadily swaying it twice before bringing it to her mouth.

Wen Chaosheng, feeling warm, opened up and asked:

"Your father's surname is Yun, so your surname should also be Yun. Why aren't you called Yunshui?"

A Shui shook her head:

"I don't take my father's surname, nor my mother's."

Wen Chaosheng frowned:

"Why?"

A Shui looked up, glanced at Wen Chaosheng, her tone as calm and deep as a dead lake:

"Whoever asks about this dies."

The latter recalled the moment A Shui opened her eyes that morning and knew she wasn't joking. He shook his head and said:

"Then I don't want to know. It's not worth losing my life for a secret."

A Shui took another sip of soup and explained to him:

"...You weren't wrong about one thing: I do have enormous trouble on me. Some words are like a guillotine hanging over one's head; if you hear them, you might lose your life one day in the future."

"So, the less you know, the safer you are."

"Although your life is rotten, you're a good person; I don't want to harm you."

Then, she thought of something else, her eyes flickering, and she put down the bowl of soup and said:

"Today, the yamen runners in the county town told me that on the third day of every month, refugees can enter the county yamen to apply for Qi citizenship. You live a hard life outside; why haven't you gone into the county town?"

Upon hearing this, Wen Chaosheng was silent for a moment, only saying:

"I'll go next month."

A Shui carefully savored the slight ripple of emotion on his face, her tone rising slightly:

"You didn't go this month?"

"I did."

"You didn't go last month?"

"I did... I've gone for the past three months."

A Shui held a wooden stick, gently stirring the frog soup in the pot, and slowly said:

"Then I know who you want to kill."

Wen Chaosheng looked at the woman stirring the soup, smiled, and asked, defying belief:

"Who do I want to kill?"

A Shui stared at the bubbling soup in the pot, her lips parting softly, yet her words were like a thunderclap:

"You want to kill the Ku Hai County Magistrate."

Upon hearing this, the smile on Wen Chaosheng's face gradually faded, and the dancing firelight in his eyes slowly churned with Killing Intent.

A Shui served another bowl of soup and steadily handed it to Wen Chaosheng. Her index finger gently tapped the rim of the bowl, and the crisp sound pulled the dazed Wen Chaosheng back to reality.

"Why do you want to kill him?"

Wen Chaosheng stared at the soup in front of him. After taking it, he drank two mouthfuls, and a searing heat filled his chest and abdomen.

After a long silence, he told A Shui about his three-year agreement with the county magistrate.

After finishing, Wen Chaosheng buried his head, his words filled with an unprecedented stillness and coldness:

"Every time I went to the county yamen, the yamen runners looked at me as if I were a stray dog on the street. Their eyes were filled with mockery, contempt, and the smugness of having played a fool... But born this way, I had to accept it."

"Living outside the county town for three years, I've eaten dog food, gnawed on tree bark, eaten insects, and even eaten earthworms..."

As he spoke, Wen Chaosheng looked up and grinned at A Shui:

"You haven't eaten that stuff, have you?"

"That stuff, one bite, and it's all the deep, fishy smell of earth, even wild cats and dogs won't eat it."

"But I ate it, and quite a lot."

"These three years, I've lived more lowly than a dog. Sometimes I even felt like I might really be a dog."

"Many times I felt I couldn't bear it anymore, and wanted to just die... But I was unwilling."

"I know Liu Jinshi made a three-year agreement with me just because he found me annoying and casually made up an excuse to put me off."

"But people... should always carry hope, especially someone with a rotten life like mine."

"Hope, for us, is the most precious treasure; it's more important than anything."

"I don't want to be a dog, so as long as there's a sliver of possibility to live like a human, I will hold on tight."

The firelight lingered on A Shui's face, her eyes subtly shifting, as if ripples had formed.

"If that's the case, why are you sharpening your knife again?"

Wen Chaosheng lowered his head to add firewood, his movements of putting the fuel into the fire swift and decisive.

"Three years of hardship, I've actually developed many illnesses, but I've just been gritting my teeth and enduring it because I'm young. If this continues, I won't live much longer."

"The three-year agreement is approaching. If he breaks his promise... I will fight him with this knife."

"A rotten life for a good one, it's not a loss."

At this point, he met A Shui's gaze, the flames in his pupils bright and vigorous.

Wen Chaosheng, in an unprecedentedly serious tone, said word by word:

"I've lived here like a wild dog for three years."

"Before I die, I want to be a human."

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