Silent Crown

Chapter 42: Your Fault

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio  Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Ye Qingxuan stumbled, and ran down the winding streets. He had pretty much recovered, but every step felt like his body was about to fall apart, and it was getting harder to breathe. The invisible confines were back, solidifying with the wind.

When he looked down, what he saw made his blood run cold.

Reflected in a puddle, he saw a transparent and blurry shadow latched onto him, wrapping around his throat and limbs, stopping his movements. If he had not looked closely, he would not have be able to see it. He wanted to pull it off, but the thing was like air.

“There’s no use, it’s invisible. It’s the child of the Dark Mother. It’s a leech that feeds off of fear and blood. Once it catches its prey, it won’t ever let go,” Bai Xi said weakly on his back. “That person…is here to capture me…”

Ye Qingxuan cried, “It’s my fault.”

“It’s always been your fault.” Bai Xi trembled with pain, her voice growing hoarse. “People…why should you help each other? You believe them, but they’ll hurt you.”

Ye Qingxuan could feel her pain because blood was flowing from her open wounds, seeping into his clothes, warm and sticky.

She tried suppressing the pain, but clenched her fists until her knuckles whitened. It was like an angry dagger was inside her, carving and tearing at her organs. She almost cried out.

“Bai Xi, what’s wrong?” Ye Qingxuan froze. Her body temperature was not normal.

“It hurts. You can’t tell?” Bai Xi’s finger spasmed, her voice shaking as well. “It’s all your fault. If you didn’t save me, none of this would’ve happened. And don’t you know how to make conversation? Put me down. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” She paused, her choked out voice weakening even more. “Put me down. I want to go home…”

Ye Qingxuan did not reply. He kept running, panting. For some reason, he suddenly thought of Bai Xi’s eyes from that night—how much terror was hidden inside that mixed with that dazed confusion.

“Bai Xi.” Ye Qingxuan quietly asked, “You don’t actually have anywhere to go back to, right?”

The girl didn’t reply.

“Then don’t say so many somber things,” the boy continued quietly. “Didn’t you already start a new life? You don’t have to go back anymore.” Although he was talking to Bai Xi, it seemed that he was also talking to himself.

“Really?” Bai Xi whispered.

“Yes, really!” Ye Qingxuan grit his teeth and finally saw something in the corner up ahead. He already had a plan for getting rid of the footsteps following behind them like a shadow.

“We just need to…”

Oof!

Two objects crashed into each other. A short shadow crashed into his body. A person rushed from the corner and stabbed something ice cold into his chest.

Ye Qingxuan froze in shock. Looking down, he met eyes with an eerily smiling dwarf. There was a dagger in the dwarf’s hand. And the tip of the dagger was in his chest, drawing fresh blood from the wound.

His strength left him along with the blood, and Ye Qingxuan collapsed onto the ground.

Quickly, the dwarf picked up Bai Xi’s hair. He produced something, pressing it onto Bai Xi’s face. It was a piece of cloth filled with the acrid scent of medicine. The girl struggled, but finally she stopped moving.

“Tsk! These two kids are so much work. I almost failed.” The dwarf grasped the weak Bai Xi, cradling her like a rowdy kid gazing at a doll, eager to break her.

“Cuozi, be gentle!” The old woman walked over from the end of the alley. Seeing Bai Xi’s face, her gaze turned toxic. “Someone paid good money for this little b*tch. If you break her, you’ll need to pay.”

The dwarf known as Cuozi froze. He pinched Bai Xi’s face, his eyes full of hunger. “Don’t scare me, Emma. This is such good skin. They won’t notice anything, right?”

“Those Easterners aren’t easy to deal with. You can play your perverted games with her if you’re not scared of death.”

“I don’t care. Maybe she won’t want to leave after getting a taste.” Despite what he had said, Cuozi stoped. Swallowing his saliva, he gave the girl to Emma. “What about the other one? What do we do with the boy?”

“Him?” Emma gazed at the boy in the puddle of blood and laughed coldly, “He’s dying anyway, so let’s not waste him. Bring him back for food.”

“I’m not sure. Should I stab him again?”

“It’s alright. They like live ones…”

In the puddle of blood, the boy’s mind was in darkness.

—

In his painful unconsciousness, Ye Qingxuan felt himself falling into the abyss. Within a second, he was asleep. Through a long yet short dream, he dreamt of the past. The sudden scene was like a memory, but also a dream—and it was much clearer than before.

It was snowing a dirty kind of snow. He was humiliated, curled up in a trash pile in the corner of an alley. He breathed out a last puff of hot air. It evaporated in the cold wind.

Where was the snow? He had forgotten.

He could only remember the Christmas fireworks that shot up in the distance. It lit up the stars, and somewhere people cheered, welcoming the new year.

Fireworks were great. Seeing their fiery red color, he could pretend to be warm. If he died like that, he would have no regrets.

In a daze, he watched as the snowflakes fell from the sky and melted into the mud. If he felt a cold gaze sweep over him, he would use the last of his dignity to glare at them fiercely.

Finally, they all left.

“So pitiful.” Those piercing words finally disappeared amongst the endless snow. In this quiet night, he was alone again.

Faintly, he heard fragmented footsteps from the distance. The light steps turned snow to dust. As if sensing the small movements in the alley, a dirty dog stepped through the mud and looked at him.

There was dirt all over its shaggy fur, covering its original color and appearance. Despite the hardened layers of dirt covering the dog, its hazel eyes were still clear and bright. Reflecting in them was the little beggar’s stunned expression.

Seeing something that deserved attention, the dog stared at his face. After a long time, it waddled over. It raised its dirty front paw, and pressed it onto the boy’s shoulder.

The dog smelled really bad, and there was a scar on its face from being torn or chewed at. Drool dripped from its mouth, and its breath was sour.

It went up close to see the beggar’s face clearly. There was something in its eyes—not pity nor sympathy. But for some reason, the boy felt sad being looked at with those eyes.

“What are you looking at? Go away!” Ye Qingxuan yelled. “Stop looking at me!” But he could not stop the tears from rolling down his face.

The dog opened its mouth as if it was laughing. “Don’t be scared,” it seemed to say with a soft bark. It licked at the melted snow on his face, spreading its warmth to him. As if it had finally found family, it cuddled against the poor beggar. Comfortable, it closed its eyes and fell asleep.

Ye Qingxuan watched the sleeping dog in silence. After a long time, he wrapped his arms around it.

They were the same.

—

As if snapping out of a trance, he woke up from his deep sleep and opened his eyes, coughing his lungs out.

The closed room was filled with a vile smell. It was like a basement of some sort.

His left arm was shackled to a metal chain. He hung above a deep well that bubbled with the sound of running water. The vile smell was everywhere in this tight space.

Luminous fungi and dim lanterns provided a little light, letting him see the moss on the four damp walls. He could also see the metal plate embedded into the corner. It was covered in rust, but he could still see the simple serial number.

D—169—C.

And so he understood what this place was.

—

This was the only river on Avalon Island. Its body was hidden in the maze under Avalon that had been under constant construction for three hundred years—the Avalonian sewage system.

The ocean rushed in from one side, arriving under the palace after going through the water pump and various mechanisms. Then the mighty flow spread throughout the city via a complicated spider web of pipes.

It came clear water, but left as viscous liquid, full of pollution, trash and rotting corpses.

Some people called it the Thames River. Apparently, one hundred years ago, the Prince Thames drowned there for mysterious reasons.

This dark river seemed to snake through all of Avalon. It was used by mobs and killers because it would leave no trace or evidence. Whether it was a horribly mutilated body, or evidence of a crime, it could be tossed down here and taken away forever. No one would be able to find it again.

When the dagger had pierced his chest, Ye Qingxuan thought he was going to die. Maybe it was like he had said—some people’s lives are so lowly that even the heavens do not want it.

The dark light illuminated the hole in his chest. The purse there—made of strong and sturdy cowhide—had saved Ye Qingxuan.

After piercing the cowhide, the blade only left a wound half an inch deep in his chest. Soaked with water and turning white, the wound trembled, but he could not feel the pain anymore. All he could feel was pain in his heart, spreading like icy water, unstoppable.

“F*ck,” Ye Qingxuan muttered, lowering his head. He could not remember when the last time since he had said that word. It had been a while since he cursed. He always felt that cursing was an expression of weakness. The people who insulted him had all been repaid with punches. Those who had wished ill on him had all paid for it.

But now he really wanted to curse because he had no power to do anything.

The girl he saved was hurt right in front of his eyes. But other than escaping, he could do nothing more.

“F*ck!”

Dust fell into his eyes, bringing stringing pain and distress.

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“It’s always been your fault.” Bai Xi’s voice rang in his heart once again, this time with a sigh. “People…why should you help each other? You believe them, but they’ll hurt you.”

“I’m sorry,” Ye Qingxuan whispered to himself. “I’ve always been the naive one.”

He could not help but laugh—laughing at himself.

The stillness was shattered by the opening of a metal door. The sound of the rusty door, and metal scraping against each other was sharp and piercing.

Someone had arrived.