Chapter 210 - 210 208 We Are the Same Kind

Words : 1417 Updated : Oct 2nd, 2025

210: Chapter 208: We Are the Same Kind 210: Chapter 208: We Are the Same Kind This place was run-down, desolate, and deathly silent. It seemed as though even the moonlight from the outside world couldn’t penetrate here, nor could the falling snow. Only the black frozen soil and the yellow fallen leaves, swept around by an unknown cold wind, filled the ground, making it desolate. And yet, people lived within this alley. Huts constructed of thatch, leaking cold from all sides, a small fire seemed to be the only light in this little patch of the world. Baili An stopped, silently watching an old man by the fire, trembling as he tried to feed his granddaughter water, his face full of sorrow and vicissitudes as he said, “Child, your grandfather has failed you.” It was hard to imagine that such a perilously narrow place existed within Xianling City. An eerie wind rose in the decrepit alley, and fog curled beneath the gorge at night. The cold wind blew, its sound sometimes distant, sometimes near. Faintly, from the west, came the weak and indistinct cry of a child. Long, dilapidated pathways and decrepit alleys seemed to become a forgotten dark corner of the everlasting Immortal City. The lights enough to brighten the long night were abundant and the stars vast, yet not a trace of light was bestowed upon this tiny dark alley world. The dim glow from the furnace cast on the old man’s face only made his features more blurred and unclear. The old man, a storyteller, was having a hard time tonight; his granddaughter was seeing blood, seemingly terrified out of her wits and not yet recovered. The old man tried to give her water, but not a drop went in; it all spilled from the corners of her lips. The little girl’s lips were blue, tightly pursed, making a muffled and peculiar sound. Baili An, holding an umbrella, spoke softly, “Old sir.” The storyteller, wiping his grandchild’s lips, seemed startled by the sudden call. But he quickly composed himself and put down a chipped old porcelain bowl he was holding. He straightened his sleeves and looked at the young man under the dim light, “Young master, it’s deep into the night, and all sorts of evil deeds have happened tonight. It’s not safe to wander outside.” The night breeze flickered with the flames, casting shadows from the ground and slanting walls into the pitch-dark obscurity. Baili An looked down, watching his own flickering shadow, and pulled out a clapper from his sleeve, “Old sir, you left in a hurry and forgot this.” The storyteller touched his granddaughter’s hair, showed a faint smile, then stood up to greet him, his face filled with gratitude, “Thank you, young master, for bringing it all this way.” As he reached to take it, Baili An’s hand suddenly drooped, and the palm holding the clapper was obscured by his sleeve, invisible once more. The storyteller looked bewildered. Baili An nodded slightly at him and said, “But I just remembered, this belongs to the little girl.” With that, he walked past the storyteller and straight into the shabby roofless hut. He crouched down, looking straight at the disoriented little girl by the furnace. He glanced briefly at the straw-covered floor, did not return the clapper, but smiled gently at her and said softly, “Don’t be afraid.” In the dim night, his eyes, larger than those of ordinary people and pitch-black, should have been eerie and terrifying. But this smile, gentle as a mild rain or the clearing skies after a storm, seemed to soothe the invisible chilling eeriness around them somewhat. The little girl in the corner stopped trembling, her lips relaxed a bit, but then she clenched her teeth hard again. Baili An’s palm lightly moved within his sleeve. The girl’s face suddenly grew terrified, as if facing a nightmare, with sweat streaming down her face. Yet, when Baili An’s palm opened, it revealed a plump caramel shaped like a white rabbit, made very cutely and interestingly. A sweet scent of caramel drifted in the night air. The girl seemed stunned at first, her expression not one of confusion or fear anymore, her gaze settled on the white caramel in his palm, unconsciously swallowing. For a child born into such a destitute family, such fine caramel was an unaffordable luxury. She timidly extended a hand, her fingers scarred from constant playing of musical instruments—callouses and blisters visible, a heartrending sight. Just as she reached out, she seemed to remember something, and withdrew her hand to diligently wipe it on her clothing. Once her fingers were cleaner, she picked up the white rabbit caramel as if treasuring a great prize. A happy smile appeared on her little face. She repeatedly admired the adorable caramel, hesitant to actually taste it. It was unclear whether she was reluctant to eat it, or if it was for some other reason. The night was moonlit, but the bleak moonlight struggled to reach into this unvisited alley. Baili An quietly watched the little girl for a long time, then suddenly spoke, “Old sir, can your granddaughter not speak?” Whether in the inn or here, he seemed to have never heard the little girl say a word. Apart from screams and cries. He never heard her speak a word. The sorrowful voice of the old man came from behind, “Ah, my little granddaughter was born mute. People say that Xianling City is a mystical city inhabited by Immortals, and anyone with severe ailments or on their deathbed, if they can afford to enter and live within the city for recuperation, would receive the Immortal’s blessing and live a long and healthy life, free from suffering.” Baili An said, “But it appears to have been a disappointment for the old sir.” The storyteller smiled, “Not quite a disappointment; at least since entering the city, even though we’ve met hardships and gone hungry, we haven’t suffered any life-threatening illnesses.” At this moment, the boiling water over the fire began to bubble, the gurgling sound a roar in the silent night. “Is that so?” Baili An said, lowering his eyelids, his fingers from within his sleeve rubbing the clapper, its rough surface having splinters, somewhat prickly. He said, “I don’t know of any mute affliction that prevents one from opening their mouth to eat.” The old man said, “Used to hard times, we hesitate to consume fine things.” Baili An said, “Today there were quite a few spectators below the stage, and they donated a good amount.” This time the old man was silent. Baili An continued, “Yet the old sir didn’t take a penny, even with a bloodbath unfolding but promptly, not a penny was taken. Is it that the old sir was too panicked, or did he simply not need that money?” Footsteps approached from behind, and the storyteller’s shadow slowly moved towards Baili An’s back. His tone remained unchanged, “Perhaps it’s the young master’s first time in Xianling City? Incidents like tonight’s homicide aren’t unusual for a border city like Xianling. Yet, while not unusual, it doesn’t mean people’s fear diminishes along with habituation; rather, it deepens fear in their hearts. I was afraid earlier because life is more valuable than money.” Baili An didn’t mind the approach of the man behind him. He picked up a straw from the ground, his fingernail breaking the skin, blood smeared on the straw, then lit with the furnace. The slowly burning straw was placed in front of the girl, the smoke mingled with the faint scent of blood wafting to the girl’s nose. She inhaled the smoke, her panicked expression becoming calm, but her throat moved restlessly, and suddenly her expression changed. “Wow!!!” a scream as she spat out a pair of eyeballs mixed with foul juice and dripping with fresh blood, rolling down to the ground. In the blood, several corpse worms could be seen wriggling. Now that her mouth was open, the girl’s face contorted, and she coughed incessantly, but all she could make were strange noises. Baili An saw that her tongue, had been pulled out by the root. No wonder she couldn’t speak. Behind his neck, a chill blew close by, the unfolding laugh of the storyteller sounded slightly surprised, “Why does your blood nurture ghosts? It seems we are of the same kind.”

Chapter 210 - 210 208 We Are the Same Kind

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