Eternal Life as False Emperor

Clang!

A short dagger was also thrown to the ground by the man: "This is for you."

The boy silently picked up the rabbit, took the dagger, and, enduring the pain on his body, went to the nearby creek. He skillfully gutted the rabbit, removed its skin, and washed it clean with creek water.

Focused on handling the rabbit, the boy did not notice the middle-aged man who brought him here, watching him unblinkingly.

The middle-aged man noticed that the boy did not even throw away the innards but simply washed them clean and set them aside.

After tidying up the rabbit, he used a branch to skewer the two rabbits and their innards, returning them to the middle-aged man's side.

By this time, the middle-aged man was already lying on an animal skin, with a flint and some seasonings by his feet.

The boy used a branch to set up the rabbit and then spent a little over an hour gathering dry firewood from around.

If he weren't seriously injured, he wouldn't have moved so slowly. Even so, the boy never uttered a word of complaint about the pain.

Soon, the aroma of roasted meat spread in the air.

"Benefactor, the rabbit is ready," the boy said in a somewhat hoarse voice. No sooner had he finished speaking than he couldn't help but cough a few times; he quickly turned his head and covered his mouth with his hand.

Between the gaps in his fingers, quite a bit of fresh blood seeped out.

The middle-aged man seemingly turned a blind eye, picking up the rabbit and tearing off a piece of meat to chew.

To be honest, the roasted rabbit meat wasn't very tasty.

It was, after all, the wilderness, and the campfire's heat wasn't particularly strong.

To ensure it was thoroughly cooked, the rabbit meat had been roasted for too long, becoming dry and chewy.

This wasn't much of an issue for the middle-aged man.

After all, it was much better than the mush he'd eaten made from stale rice.

Halfway through the rabbit, the middle-aged man realized there were still two rabbit legs left beside him.

Looking over at the boy, he had already devoured his rabbit, gnawing on the innards with great relish.

The taste of rabbit meat could hardly be called good, let alone the innards.

But to the boy, these things seemed like a delicacy.

After a moment of disbelief, the middle-aged man let out a self-deprecating laugh.

For a boy who, not long ago, was fighting with dogs for food, as long as he could eat his fill, nothing else probably mattered.

Seemingly sensing the man's gaze, the boy turned around, puzzled.

But what he saw was the imposing, unapproachable demeanor of the middle-aged man.

"Go to sleep early." The middle-aged man coldly said, after finishing his roast rabbit, then lay down on the animal skin and slowly closed his eyes.

The boy didn't have such luxuries, randomly pulling a stalk of straw, using the remaining firewood as a pillow, and lay down on the ground.

He didn't dare to sleep, staring unblinkingly at the middle-aged man, seemingly afraid that he would disappear again.

But after all, he was seriously injured, and walking such a long distance had already exhausted him to the limit.

No matter how hard he tried to hold on, in just a few dozen breaths, his eyelids began to droop, and he soon fell into a deep sleep.

The middle-aged man's ears twitched, listening to the boy's steady breathing, to make sure he was truly asleep.

Rising to his feet, he stood beside the boy, pressing a hand against the boy's back, slowly channeling spiritual qi into his body.

In the nurturing of spiritual qi, the boy's injuries began to heal, and the frown on his forehead gradually relaxed in his sleep.

Heavy footsteps startled the boy awake from his slumber.

Opening his eyes, he looked in the direction of the footsteps, finding the middle-aged man already far ahead.

The boy hurriedly scrambled to his feet, catching up with the distant middle-aged man.

But even the boy himself probably didn't realize that his injuries were nearly healed.

Thus, the two of them walked, one in front and one behind, neither speaking a word.

In the first few days, neither of them spoke.

The boy, though curious about where this man intended to take him, did not ask any questions since the other showed no intent to speak.

Years of wandering taught him one thing—sometimes ignorance was bliss.

"How old are you?" A few days later, the middle-aged man suddenly asked.

"I don't know." The boy shook his head. "My parents were beaten to death by the Zhao Family a long time ago. I don't even know how old I am."

Silence followed.

"Do you hate them?"

The boy shook his head again. "I don't even know if I hate them, just that I find them annoying."

As they walked, they chatted intermittently.

"If you were as powerful as them, would you kill them?"

This time the boy answered slowly, thinking for a long time.

"Probably not. After all, only a few people bullied me. If I were that powerful, I'd want to make a lot of money so that people like me won't go hungry."

His response left the middle-aged man dumbfounded, never expecting such ambition from someone so young.

And watching the boy's demeanor as he spoke, it didn't seem like he was lying.

"What if the Zhao Family offered you a lot of money to help them oppress people like you?"

For the first time, anger appeared on the boy's face.

"I wouldn't take their dirty money!"

The boy still didn't ask the middle-aged man where they were going, and the man didn't tell the boy their destination.

They started by taking secluded mountain paths, but the number of times they entered villages or towns gradually increased.