Chapter 1386 - 1062: You, Grow Up Quickly...

"Nie Chong!"

In Yu Wenye’s low exclamation, blood gushed uncontrollably from the wound on Nie Chong’s chest, staining the ground beneath him a deep red, submerging him entirely in the crimson tide!

Shantong’er cried out, "Brother Nie!"

He finally snapped out of his daze, rushing forward to hold Nie Chong, but the movement only deepened the wound on Nie Chong’s chest. Blood splattered onto Shantong’er’s face, and his once clear and bright eyes turned blood red, as if everything and everyone before him had changed in color and become a different world.

Tears streamed down his face like broken strings, mixing with the blood and dripping onto Nie Chong’s face.

Nie Chong’s complexion was as pale as paper. Usually, his sharp ears heard nothing at this moment, only regaining a bit of consciousness upon feeling the hot liquid hit his face. He struggled to move his eyes to look at Shantong’er holding him, his pale lips moved, but it seemed he no longer had the strength to speak.

"Nie Chong..."

At this time, Shen Tu Tai entrusted Shan Shiyu to someone beside him and returned to his side.

Having experienced countless battles and injuries, Shen Tu Tai knew which wounds could be saved and which even a Daluo Golden Immortal could not heal. Seeing the blood pouring from Nie Chong’s chest like a fountain, he understood—there was no bringing him back. His fierce eyes, which could frighten many enemies on the battlefield, were now red from tears, his voice hoarse and barely audible as he still tried to comfort him, "You, you hang in there, the doctor will be—"

Nie Chong lowered his eyelids.

He wanted to tell Shen Tu Tai that he, too, understood that such a wound was beyond saving, but he no longer had the strength to speak.

So he quietly awaited, and after a moment, as if gathering enough strength, he shook his head lightly, then looked at Yu Wenye, at Shen Tu Tai, at the surrounding soldiers who were either sad, angry, or unable to bear looking at him any longer, before finally fixing his gaze on Shantong’er beside him.

The small, pale figure reflected in his eyes, bringing him a trace of spirit.

Nie Chong sighed, but the blood caught in his throat surged up unexpectedly, and he coughed up a mouthful of blood. Another flow of blood gushed from his chest wound, but it was no longer as violent, as if the blood had nearly run out.

His life, too, was nearing its end.

Shantong’er cried so hard that he could barely breathe; trembling, he hugged Nie Chong tightly, but no matter how he embraced, the body in his arms continued to tremble and slowly grew cold.

"Brother Nie! Brother Nie..."

Listening to his heart-wrenching cries, Shen Tu Tai, standing nearby, almost couldn’t restrain his tears. He could only grit his teeth and turn his face away, then reached out and pressed firmly on Shantong’er’s head.

This action seemed to be comforting, yet it also carried an indescribable grievance.

Seeing this scene, a faint smile appeared in Nie Chong’s dim eyes, suddenly bringing light to his face, even brightening his eyes. It seemed as though he regained his keen vision and hearing, turning his head slowly to look around, but the deep night concealed everything.

He sighed smoothly, and this time, did not cough from the blood in his throat, but his words were saturated with a bloody scent: "It’s a pity, there’s no time left."

Saying this, he looked at Shantong’er again, his gaze filled with indescribable tenderness and lingering.

After a long time, he whispered, "You, grow up quickly..."

With this sigh-like remark, he slowly raised his hand, seemingly intending to touch Shantong’er’s head, but as soon as his hand reached his forehead, it suddenly dropped heavily.

A gust of bloody wind hit Shantong’er’s face.

Though it was gentle, it felt like a heavy slap, making his ears buzz, unable to hear anything, even the already dark night becoming darker and suffocatingly black.

Until the pained cries of those around, until a tear finally fell from the corner of Shen Tu Tai’s tightly shut eye, until the ground shook as the soldier who earlier brought the military doctor stumbled to the ground, ran wildly only to be rendered helpless, did Shantong’er regain a little consciousness. He glanced once more at Nie Chong, who had closed his eyes forever, without a breath left, then everything went black, and he fainted completely...

That night was unbearably long for Shantong’er.

Longer than being put into a basket and displayed in the market, longer than those endless nights of hunger with a tightened belt, longer than being taken to Dayan Temple, kneeling before Buddha listening to scriptures he never understood, and being tapped on the head whenever he nodded off.

He even thought he might stay in this night forever, never to wake again.

But eventually, he had to wake up.

When he reopened his eyes, it was already two days later.

He stared numbly at the few familiar figures sitting by his bed. Even without fully focusing, he knew they were Shen Tu Tai’s personal soldiers, but their faces remained blurred to him. Upon opening his eyes, he heard voices filled with joy, "Ninth Master, you finally woke up."

"Quick, quickly bring some food!"

"Don’t move yet, you’ve been unconscious for two days, you must be weak."

Shantong’er moved his limbs slightly, indeed feeling weak. He would get anxiously hungry even if he missed a meal, so being unconscious for two days without food, no wonder he couldn’t move. Fortunately, these people were very considerate; in no time, hot soup and noodles were brought over. He was helped to sit up against the bedhead, and the steaming, meat-scented broth was brought to his lips. He lowered his head and instinctively took a sip.

But as soon as he swallowed it, he immediately felt an uncomfortable pressure in his chest, as if there wasn’t even room for a breath of air. He leaned over the edge of the bed and vomited with a "wah" sound.

The people around exclaimed in shock.

Everyone immediately became busy, patting his back, helping him to breathe, and wiping the corners of his mouth. It took quite a while before he was laid back onto the bed. They had never seen Shantong’er unable to eat, let alone vomit, leaving everyone a bit at a loss — although they actually knew why, yet at this moment, nobody knew how to comfort him.

Just then, heavy footsteps approached outside the tent, then someone lifted the tent flap.

Shantong’er immediately raised his head, but the first sight he caught was outside the tent — the tall figure with the military camp behind him, a troupe assembled neatly as if they were preparing to leave the camp for something. But before he could see clearly, the tent flap fell back down.

Shen Tu Tai’s tall figure slowly walked in, and abruptly, the tent, which was rather spacious, became cramped and suffocating.

He gently waved to the people, "You all go, attend to your duties."

They nodded and silently withdrew.

Once they left, Shen Tu Tai took large strides to the bedside and sat down. Lowering his head, he saw the vomit Shantong’er had just thrown up on the ground. Without changing his expression, he stepped on it, grinding it into the dirt as if it had never existed.

Then, he looked at Shantong’er sitting by the bedhead.

It was just two days of unconsciousness, yet the child seemed to have lost a noticeable amount of weight. The previously round and sturdy appearance seemed to have been drawn away, leaving behind a pale, powerless shell. Shen Tu Tai looked at him for a while without speaking, then reached out to pick up the soup bowl left by the others at the bedside, blew on it twice, and brought it to Shantong’er’s lips: "Eat something first, you cannot go hungry."

"..."

Shantong’er bit his lower lip and lowered his head to take a sip of the soup.

The taste of the meat broth was still delicious, but the savory taste surged to his head, inexplicably leaving him suffocated again, almost making him vomit. At that moment, Shen Tu Tai’s low voice sounded in his ear: "Swallow it; there’s not that much, nor is there that much time for you to waste."

"...!"

These words hit like a heavy punch at the back of his head.

His blank mind was stirred up into a storm, and amidst these turbulent waves, he suddenly heard a powerless voice sigh and say to him: You, grow up quickly...

A scorching heat surged from his heart, almost bursting through his throat, making his eyes red. Shantong’er gritted his teeth, forcefully swallowing that heat, and finally gulped down the soup in his mouth.

Then, he took a second sip, a third.

In no time, he managed to drink half the bowl of soup, feeling a little stronger and clearer in his mind, yet he neither looked up at Shen Tu Tai but instead gazed at his lost expression reflected in the remaining half bowl of soup, softly saying: "Brother Shen Tu, my, my..."

He seemed truly unable to voice it, stammering for a long time without managing to articulate clearly.

It was Shen Tu Tai who looked at him calmly, and said, "Are you asking about Nie Chong or your elder brother?"

Shantong’er’s face immediately turned pale again.

Just mentioning these two together felt like a thousand cuts to him, yet his heart could only focus on these two people now.

With a tight throat, he struggled to say, "Brother Nie..."

Knowing that he could not eat anymore, Shen Tu Tai set aside the remaining half bowl of soup and said, "His Highness has already ordered his coffin to be sent back to Chang An, for a military burial with high honors."

"..."

This time, Shantong’er couldn’t hold back, and hot tears instantly welled up, falling with a patter from his eyes.

After a long while, with a hoarse voice, he asked, "Then, what about him?"