Chapter 883: Companion

That figure, full of cowardice and gloom, knelt in the snow, his eyes full of emptiness and despair.

Bang—!!

A gunshot,

A bullet pierced the wind and snow and hit Jian Changsheng's forehead!

A wisp of cinnabar-like blood floated out, silently merging into the snow beneath him. Jian Changsheng fell backward, his eyes empty, lying in the wind and snow, motionless.

Opposite him, a figure wearing bright red opera robes, with a section of broken intestine hanging from his waist, stood up staggeringly...

He swept his gaze slowly over Jian Changsheng on the ground, finally staring at Sun Bumian, who was the only one standing, and spoke hoarsely:

"Come on... don't you want to kill me? I said it before, to kill me completely, it takes two shots!!"

Sun Bumian’s eyes were filled with deep bewilderment.

Before he could say anything, a black palm emerged from behind like a phantom. After a light tap on his crown, a flash of white light flickered, and Sun Bumian collapsed to the ground.

"...So dawdling, what a nuisance." Mo Lian seemed quite displeased with the interference from Jian Changsheng and Sun Bumian.

All he wanted was to liberate the Disaster of Mockery within Chen Ling; the fate of the others didn't matter at all.

"Who are you?"

Chen Ling stood weakly in place. Excessive blood loss and the hollow feeling made his vision go black, and even his thoughts felt incredibly heavy... He looked at the figure slowly approaching and asked in a hoarse voice.

"Me?" Mo Lian’s lips curled up slightly.

"I am the one who has come to control you."

Mo Lian knew that Chen Ling’s spirit had been tortured to its limit; it was the perfect moment to steal his "sanity." He gently raised his black-gloved hand...

The next moment, a glimmer of light flickered, and Chen Ling’s figure vanished into thin air, leaving behind only a small snowman that fell silently from the sky.

Mo Lian was stunned. He looked back and saw that Jian Changsheng and Sun Bumian, who had been there just a moment ago, had also turned into two snowmen...

And Jiang Xiaohua, who had initially collapsed in the snow, had disappeared without a trace.

Who on earth was this Jiang Xiaohua? To be able to escape silently right under the nose of a Saint of Thieves, and even take Chen Ling and the others with him?

Mo Lian’s face turned livid instantly.

"A curse substitute, huh... Do you think this is enough to shake me off?"

Mo Lian let out a cold snort, his figure flickered, and he vanished from the spot.

……

Not far away.

Three limp, mud-like figures fell into the snowdrifts out of thin air.

White hair danced silently in the wind and snow. A deep blade mark remained on Jiang Xiaohua’s chest, with scarlet blood flowing down from the wound... but even though that blade had struck a vital point, he still hadn't died.

"The curse of recovering memories... I only know one."

Jiang Xiaohua whispered to himself while plucking a strand of hair from each of the three men’s heads. After tying them together, he quickly wove them into a ring with his fingertips, the ends meeting to form a circle.

Of the three lying on the ground, only Chen Ling remained slightly conscious. He opened his hazy eyes and asked hoarsely:

"Who... are you?"

Even though he had already met Jiang Xiaohua twice just moments ago, he felt as much a stranger to him now as ever.

Jiang Xiaohua answered patiently while weaving the ring:

"My name is Jiang Xiaohua."

"Even the Divine Path has forsaken me... why, then, did you save me?"

"Because you said you would take me out." Jiang Xiaohua paused, and this time, he added in a low voice, "And you said... we are companions."

"Companions?" Chen Ling struggled to recall something, but finally shook his head bitterly.

"I don't remember..."

Chen Ling felt his eyelids growing heavy. Perhaps it was the severity of his injuries, or the excessive blood loss; his heart felt like a bottomless void, and as he continued to forget, an unprecedented emptiness surged in like a tide.

Just as Chen Ling was about to close his eyes completely, Jiang Xiaohua replied earnestly:

"It doesn't matter. Even if all of you forget... I will remember."

Chen Ling closed his eyes hazily.

Jiang Xiaohua placed the ring in the center of the three men. After chanting a few incantations, an aura of the Witch God Path spread through the air...

"Curse."

Jiang Xiaohua pointed into the air at the ring.

The next moment, the auras of Chen Ling and the others seemed to connect with each other, just like the hair ring. Their souls and bodies flowed silently, and the hair ring vanished without a trace...

After finishing all this, Jiang Xiaohua looked incredibly exhausted. His eyelids drooped, and his lips were pale, devoid of any color.

Just as he was about to stand up, a ghostly figure appeared behind him out of nowhere.

The black cane twisted into a long sword and swung casually through the air. A cold glint flashed, and Jiang Xiaohua’s figure suddenly stiffened in place...

A razor-thin line of blood split him down the center, dividing him in two.

Warm blood gushed out like a fountain, splashing over Chen Ling and the others.

……

Crackling—

The noisy sound of firecrackers echoed through the streets. Amidst the clamor of gongs and drums, Chen Ling slowly opened his eyes.

Before he knew it, he was in the middle of an incredibly lively street. Countless figures bustled around him—men, women, old, and young, all beaming with joy. The laughter coming from all directions and the festive sounds of the New Year in the distance left him in a state of deep bewilderment...

"Where... is this?"

Chen Ling’s consciousness was somewhat chaotic. It felt like... like he was dreaming, a dream caught between wakefulness and chaos.

"Happy New Year!"

"Happy New Year, Happy New Year! Brother Wang, wishing you a fresh start for the New Year!"

"Hahahaha, oh right, we still have plenty of New Year goods at home, take the kid and grab a handful!"

"No need, no need, the kid doesn't eat those."

"It's fine, we have plenty. Just take a handful; the kid starts school next year, let him soak up some good luck!"

"Well, we won't be polite then! Nuannuan, hurry up and thank your uncle."

"Thank you, uncle!"

“……”

The bustle and noise of the New Year flowed past Chen Ling, yet he felt like an outsider, completely out of place with everything.

Just as Chen Ling was feeling puzzled, a burst of cheers and applause came from ahead. The next moment, a lion dance performer leaped nimbly onto the long poles, blinking and sticking out its tongue—it looked incredibly lifelike!

The laughter of children and the applause of adults rolled in like a tide. The lion danced and leaped, harvesting countless cheers, before jumping in front of a few children. Hands popped out from under the fabric and rubbed together gently...

Two bright red, translucent candied hawthorns appeared as if by magic and were handed to the two nearest children.

The sound of gongs and drums grew louder. The lion shook its head and returned to the poles. With a flick of its long tongue, two red paper scrolls, like couplets, unfurled on the left and right, each inscribed with four large characters:

"Good fortune and auspiciousness, peace throughout the years."

Chen Ling looked at these eight characters, feeling a sense of familiarity. He stood alone amidst the festive joy, lost in thought.