Chapter Sixty-Two: Illusion

Boom!

The instant Ke Bei stepped onto the blue stone bridge, the entire world changed. The bridge vanished, the hazy white mist was gone.

Not far away, a group of red-haired zombies had surrounded the burly bearded man.

"Ke Bei, run! Run!"

The big man, his face covered in thick black beard and his frame strong and sturdy, roared desperately at Ke Bei. Clutching a giant axe, he swung it fiercely at one of the red-haired zombies, which was reaching toward him with razor-sharp, jet-black claws.

"Roar! Roar!"

The red-haired zombie, its face twisted with rage, lunged at the bearded man, jaws gaping.

With a sickening squelch, one zombie’s sharp talons pierced through the big man’s chest, sending a spray of scarlet blood into the air. At the same time, another red-haired zombie’s fanged jaws closed in on his neck.

“Father!”

Ke Bei’s eyes instantly turned blood-red. With a roar, he charged forward.

“Die!”

His voice was as deep as a growl from the abyss. The power of his Nine Suns Divine Skill surged wildly, and a series of afterimages flashed in the air.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Ke Bei’s fists, charged with terrifying force, smashed into the heads of the red-haired zombies, crushing their skulls into pulp.

“Father…”

Ke Bei stared at the gaping hole in the bearded man’s chest, watching the blood gush forth. His nose stung, and scalding tears rolled down his face.

“The divine pills—right, the divine pills!”

Looking at the big man’s ashen face, Ke Bei pressed his hands hard against the bleeding wound, panic rising in his heart. With trembling hands, he hurriedly dug out every last divine pill from his backpack.

One after another, he frantically stuffed the pills into his father’s mouth.

“Father, wake up! Please, wake up…”

Ke Bei shouted, his voice hoarse and desperate, filled with panic, helplessness, and overwhelming grief, as he watched the man’s eyes remain tightly shut.

“The divine pills can save lives—they can save lives…”

Ke Bei was at a loss, sobbing softly. He grabbed the pills, clutching them like a drowning man grasping at a final stalk of grass.

He kept feeding them to the bearded man, but the blood continued to flow, the eyes stayed closed, the breathing grew fainter.

“No! No!”

As he felt the man’s life ebbing away, Ke Bei’s eyes turned crimson, blood bursting from the corners of his eyes. Suddenly, he hugged the big man tightly, and with a heart-wrenching cry, spat out a mouthful of blood. All the capillaries in his body ruptured at once, turning him into a figure bathed in blood.

“No, something’s wrong!”

In that moment of shattering pain, a spark flashed in Ke Bei’s mind.

“You’re not my father!”

“Absolutely not!”

He shook his head violently. He remembered the blade technique the bearded man had left behind—the third stance was beyond even his current ability to comprehend. How could someone capable of creating such a move be killed by mere red-haired zombies?

“Seeing is not always believing. That old man and his dancing crane—it was all fake. Remember, it was fake! That’s all I can tell you, or I’ll be breaking the rules. Now, I’ll go on ahead and wait for you at the bridge.”

As doubt surfaced in his heart, Xiao Jiu’s parting words echoed in Ke Bei’s mind.

“What a terrifying illusion…”

A chill flickered in Ke Bei’s eyes. He looked at the bearded man’s closed eyes and drew a sharp breath, carefully wiping the blood from his face.

He stooped down, slowly picking up the scattered divine pills and returning them to his backpack. For a long, long time, he stood in silence, gazing at the bearded man’s form.

Even knowing it was nothing but an illusion, Ke Bei was reluctant to leave. He wanted to look at his father just a little longer.

He quietly watched the peaceful expression of the bearded man for three whole hours before finally standing up, a look of steely resolve flashing in his eyes.

“Father, wait for me. I will reach the summit soon. I will find you, no matter what trouble you’re in, no matter how great the difficulty—we’ll face it together, as father and son!”

He stood tall, looking at the bearded man’s figure, and whispered softly. Then he turned decisively, striding forward with unwavering steps.

Boom!

After just a dozen paces, the world abruptly shifted again. Ke Bei found himself back in the Mingye neighborhood.

“No, help! Help me—ah!”

At that very instant, a familiar yet now heart-rending voice pierced Ke Bei’s ears.

“Qianqian!”

Ke Bei’s brow furrowed sharply. The Nine Suns Divine Skill surged to his feet; he performed his ethereal movement technique, leaving a clear afterimage behind as his body shot hundreds of meters ahead. Another afterimage, and he was at his own front door.

Ke Bei knew this was all an illusion, but even so, he would never allow anyone—real or not—to hurt Li Qianqian again!

As he appeared at the doorway, he saw Li Qianqian curled into a trembling ball in the corner, her face pale with terror as she stared at three young men advancing on her.

The three, dressed in Blood Sword Society uniforms, wore cruel, sadistic smiles as they approached. One raised a steel rod, nearly three meters long, preparing to strike.

At the very moment the rod whistled through the air, about to pierce Li Qianqian’s body, Ke Bei appeared, blocking her. Clenching his fist, veins bulging as the Nine Suns Divine Skill enveloped it, he smashed fiercely into the steel rod.

Bang!

Ke Bei’s fist struck the rod with brutal force, sending it flying. The steel bar slammed into the wall with a thunderous crash, piercing straight through the concrete.

“Qianqian, it’s alright now. I’m here.”

Ke Bei slowly turned, looking at Li Qianqian’s terrified, pallid face. A sharp pang twisted in his heart, and he pulled her trembling body into his arms.

He held her tightly, so tightly, his nose stinging. Though his face remained calm, tears silently streamed down once more.

“It’s alright now. No one will hurt you again. No one ever will.”

Ke Bei murmured softly, as if to himself, holding Li Qianqian close.

“Even in an illusion, no one can hurt you again. No one.”

His voice grew quieter and quieter, until only he could hear it. Still cradling Li Qianqian, without looking back, he summoned three throwing knives into his palm.

Swish, swish, swish!

The three knives sliced through the air, their shrill whistle ending as they pierced the skulls of the three Blood Sword Society youths.

Ke Bei’s face remained composed, silent. He simply held Li Qianqian, tightly, with all his strength.

PS: This is the second chapter today. Though it’s not long, I’m working hard—there will be a third, and maybe a fourth if I’m in the right mood. Heading to eat now. Also, please support my friends’ novels, "Armed Tyrant" and "Evolution Dream," if you can. Many thanks!