Chapter 311 - 311 309 Inhuman

Words : 1406 Updated : Oct 11th, 2025

311: Chapter 309: Inhuman 311: Chapter 309: Inhuman The chilled wind brushed silently around Ji Ting as he slowly closed his eyes, pursed his lips tightly, and it took a long while before he managed to speak in a strained, hoarse voice. “She doesn’t know, she knows nothing, not that from the day I entered the city I bore the burden of a life on my shoulders, not that I can’t recognize many characters, not that I am a bandit, a thief who stole the happiness that was meant for her brother.” At that moment, Baili An lowered his eyelids, “You truly are cruel.” Ji Ting lifted his head, defiantly gazing at the night sky, and said with fierce stubbornness, “I did no wrong, and I have no regrets.” He discarded his own name because it sounded unpleasant, no different from the vile names of the beggar children in the dilapidated temples. He had said it before, he was nothing but rotten fish and shrimp in the mud, and any straw that could save his life, he would clutch onto it without any moral baseline. Meng Chengzhi was his life-saving straw, and so was Ji Ting. He was a born criminal, a refugee upon the earth. Cold and hunger were his companions; he had to rely on a blunt, rusty dagger to fight for food with wild dogs and beggars. He had been ill before too, especially that night when the wounds inflicted by wild dogs festered and oozed, and he burned with fever, his eyes red-hot. He, who had to rely on stealing even for a cold bun, how could he have money for a doctor or medicine? He could only collapse at the wayside, clutching his dagger, waiting for his last breath. It was Ji Ting who had saved him. At that time, Ji Ting was only thirteen, an orphaned boy taking care of his younger sister. Because of war and famine, his parents had been separated, and he was parted from his younger sister, Ji Ying. After their mother passed away, with no one to rely on, he took his little sister to Xianling City, in search of their biological father and younger sister. In his memory, Ji Ting was a sickly scholar who had tuberculosis and was not long for this world, clearly not fit for long journeys, weary from travel. If he had stayed put and focused on recuperating, he might have lived a little longer. But he couldn’t put his mind at ease about his young sister. After his death, how would his two-year-old sister survive? He didn’t want Ji San to be trafficked by scoundrels before she even grew up, nor did he want her to become a child bride scorned by another family. So, the young boy shouldered his baggage, took his little sister’s hand, and with the little money and rations they had left, they traveled over mountains and waters, heading toward the Immortal City of the Mortal World that everyone longed for. He had promised their mother to take good care of his sister. Journeying through myriad countries, he was not seeking medicine or a cure, just fulfilling a promise to his homeland. But he didn’t know that time can be cold and unfeeling, and that absurdities are hard to avoid in the Mortal World. Ji Ting in the wild rescued a soon-to-die young man, using what little money they had to get medicine and apply it to his wounds. Brother and sister, worn out from their travels and extremely hungry, the two-year-old little girl gnawed on her fingers, drooling as she watched Ji Ting give the last of his biscuits to him, crying out, ‘Brother, I’m hungry.’ Young Ji Ting stroked her head, coaxing softly, “San’er, be good. This big brother is sick; we’ll give him the biscuit. Once we get to Xianling City, I will take you and your second sister to eat roasted chicken.” How did he come to receive that biscuit? Oh, he remembered now. He was like a starving mongrel, gobbling up the biscuit in front of the little girl without leaving a bit for the siblings. He heard the words “Xianling City” very clearly. And so, an idea arose in his mind. At night, after drinking the hot medicinal soup the young boy had made for him, he took advantage of their deep sleep and spent all night sharpening his knife on an old stone outside the dilapidated temple. He was afraid the blade was too blunt to kill anyone. But it turned out that the young man was really very seriously ill. When the knife plunged into his chest, the young man didn’t even have the strength to struggle; he could only desperately grip his collar. His eyes couldn’t even muster resentment or anger, looking as if his last emotions were only a humble plea. He knew exactly what he was begging for. He didn’t kill Ji San not because of his pleas, but because he wanted to assume her identity and become Ji Ting. At first, he thought it would be easy to quiet a two-year-old child with a few threats with the knife. But he frightened her all the way, hit her all the way, until they reached the gates of Xianling City, and she was still screaming about the murderous man. He had really felt like strangling her to death! Before entering the city, he hung Ji San from a tree for a night and viciously threatened her, saying that if she couldn’t control her tongue, he would kill her second sister too, to join her dead brother. Although the little girl was temporarily terrified, he knew this was no long-term solution. She would have a chance to expose his identity. But he didn’t care, because he didn’t plan to live a lifetime as this Ji Ting with them. As long as he could infiltrate this wealthy family and make off with the money, that was enough. However, he hadn’t expected that fate would play such a cruel joke on him. The wealthy family he imagined was just a young, lonely girl, struggling to keep a small city noodle shop. And Ji San, after being hung on a tree and chilled by the night wind, came down with a serious illness, her mind fevered, and she completely forgot about what happened in the temple. The great and wealthy Ji Family did not exist. Gold and treasures were even more out of reach. He discarded the blade with its curled edge, washed his hands clean, and wore the old scholar’s robe that belonged to the young student. He became Ji Ting and continued the touching story of the reunion with his sister. But no one knew, the actor in the play had long since changed. He didn’t know why, but late at night, as the light flickered and he watched the unfamiliar girl sitting by the bedside mending the tear in the chest of his scholar’s robe, he called out to her as if driven by some unknown force. Ji Ying unfolded her eyelids, raised her brows, and softly smiled at her brother under the flickering lamplight. A tremor came unbidden to his heart, as if in the long-settled ink, a drop of clear water suddenly fell, imprinting itself there very distinctly, unable to be wiped or scrubbed away. He suddenly remembered a phrase Ji Ting had said before he died—although not taken seriously at the time, at this moment, it came back to him loud and clear. He said to her, “Shall I take you and the little sister to the city center for roasted chicken tomorrow?” Ji Ying finished mending the old scholar’s robe; the stitches were tight and precise, the tear at the chest of the robe seemed to heal. She handed him back the robe, lifting her eyes, “Okay.” The past rose like a lucid dream and then dissipated like a bubble. Ji Ting’s unshaken voice rang out in the night, “Endless hardships can only be crossed by oneself, I have no regrets.” Fang Geyu crossed his arms and laughed coldly, “Unhuman, no better than a dog.” Ji Ting looked at her, “I’ve thought about being a good person too, but back then, did any of you who were born with a silver spoon in your mouth ever treat me as a human?”

Chapter 311 - 311 309 Inhuman

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