Ning Li was well aware that Ran Fu’s exhaustion just now was real, and his desperate counterattack in the final moment was genuine.
That sudden burst of power, so overwhelming it could almost instantly kill his opponent, was likely at the cost of burning his own life force.
Nothing comes without a price.
This time, how much of his lifespan had he sacrificed?
Suddenly, Ning found herself a little envious of Ran Wu.
Although Ran Wu had been frail since childhood, always sickly and weak, with only a few months left to live, she had a brother willing to give everything for her.
That was something Ning Li could never have even dared to imagine in her previous life.
Was she a thief?
She had stolen Ran Wu’s identity.
She had stolen Ran Wu’s brother.
Before Ning Li could dwell on it any longer, a voice beside her said, “Let’s go.”
Ran Fu squatted down and, as usual, prepared to carry her on his back.
Previously, it had been because she had a fever.
This body was truly fragile, prone to headaches and fevers at the slightest provocation.
No wonder she had felt so dizzy when she first woke up.
Ning Li wanted to say she had already broken the fever and could walk by herself now.
But in the end, she still leaned onto Ran Fu’s back.
The young man’s back wasn’t broad, but it gave Ning a long-missed sense of warmth and reliability.
She had originally thought Ran Fu would scold her.
From memory, Ran Fu’s awakened spiritual form was the Storm Lord, so his temper had always been bad.
It was true that Ran Wu and Ran Fu depended on each other to survive, but sometimes when Ran Wu annoyed Ran Fu, she got scolded.
Just now, she had spoken words of despair, almost urging Ran Fu to give up and surrender.
Given his fiery temper, he should have at least given her a good scolding.
But he didn’t.
In fact, he told her not to be afraid.
Lying on Ran Fu’s back, Ning Li began comparing the Ran Fu from her memories with the Ran Fu in front of her.
Perhaps memories were prone to distortion, which made some details blurry.
The Ran Fu in reality seemed more tolerant than the one in her memory.
Ning Li wasn’t some masochist; not being scolded was definitely preferable.
The Mass Graveyard in Area 60 was vast.
Knowing the pursuers wouldn’t arrive too quickly—probably because Ran Fu had been injured in the recent battle and lacked his usual strength—he slowed his pace, carrying Ning Li as they made their way through the Mass Graveyard on foot.
Occasionally, they encountered children scavenging in the graveyard.
For some reason, Ning Li found this scene oddly familiar, as if she had done the same thing before.
Most of these children were orphans, skinny and frail, looking pitiful.
Some of them, upon seeing Ran Fu and Ning Li, would put their dirty fingers in their mouths, eyes wide with curiosity as they followed them.
In the past, Ran Fu would never have paid any attention to these orphans; he’d tell them to stay away.
But now, Ran Fu not only spoke to them, he taught them how to better survive in this world.
“Area 251 grows a type of grass called Qing Ya,” he said.
“Cooked, it’s edible and filling. A small clump can stave off hunger.”
“The border is dangerous, but now I’ll teach you how to tell if there are any Deformed Species nearby.”
“Even if you’re incredibly unlucky and do encounter Deformed Species, it’s not impossible to survive.”
Ning Li rested on Ran Fu’s shoulder, listening as he patiently explained the habits, weaknesses, and survival methods of the Deformed Species.
For these orphans, this was invaluable knowledge they couldn’t learn in daily life, and he shared it with them wholeheartedly.
The children listened intently, and Ning Li did too.
From her memories, Ran Fu had never been so detailed or considerate in explaining things before.
His explanations were lively, not some rigid, copied script.
They were vivid and engaging, and Ning Li found herself unintentionally captivated.
He was a man of vast knowledge.
From his descriptions, the Deformed Species weren’t terrifying at all.
You could use the terrain to your advantage and outsmart them completely.
He was so meticulous, considering every aspect, even guiding the children to think about what they wanted to become in the future.
To children six or seven years old, growing up seemed very far away.
These orphans were content just to have enough food and warm clothes.
But in front of them, he painted a broader, more alluring world.
It shone brightly.
Though this world was fraught with danger, it also held beauty and grandeur.
“Area 73 has beautiful sunsets, especially in November, when countless Circle Birds soar over the Shi Jin Sea.”
“At night in Area 132, you can see the Aurora.”
“Area 199 is the closest place to the sky. There, you can see the most magnificent night sky, with stars like diamonds.”
“Spring in Area 251 belongs to the Luo Ying Flower. The Luo Ying Flower can be made into Luo Ying Cake, which tastes faintly of floral fragrance.”
In Ran Fu’s portrayal, the world was breathtaking, each place with its unique charm.
But as far as Ning Li knew, Area 201 was currently engulfed in war, with battle flames raging daily, staining the sky red.
She didn’t even know if the Luo Ying trees had been affected.
Suddenly, a child interrupted, “Brother, can I follow you?”
After that, the other children began chattering.
“Brother, I want to go with you.”
“Brother, take me with you! I’m very obedient and won’t bother you!”
“I can do laundry and cook over the fire. Brother, I’m very capable!”
Ran Fu fell silent.
Just as Ning thought he would soften and agree, he refused.
“I’m sorry. I can’t take you all with me.”
Though this rejection was harsh to the orphans, Ning Li felt a sigh of relief deep in her heart.
Ran Fu was the only one she had—not just the children needed him, she needed him too.
If he took others along, this extra burden of a little sister might be neglected.
Ning realized she couldn’t bear that.
Though she had only been his sister for a few hours, she selfishly didn’t want to share his love with anyone else.
Ran Wu.
That wasn’t right.
She had slipped into Ran Wu’s identity faster than she had expected, mercilessly abandoning her old self to become, at least for now, the sister who came before anyone else in priority.
Hearing his refusal, the children fell silent, understanding not to push further.
They had traveled together for over half an hour.
The road ahead likely couldn’t be traveled together anymore; it was time to say goodbye.
Ran Fu gave them his sincerest blessing.
“May you grow up safe and happy.”
In such a war-torn world, for a child, the greatest fortune was probably just to grow up in safety.
Ran Fu couldn’t promise them anything more.
The path ahead was uncertain.
The only thing he could give was his blessing.
But his easygoing tolerance and broad knowledge left a deep impression in every child’s heart.
They had never met someone so kind, someone patient enough to teach them knowledge and wish them happiness.
“I’m very happy today, thank you.”
“I’m happy too!”
“Today is a super happy day!”
A smile rose in Ran Fu’s dark, glossy eyes as he adjusted Ran Wu, who was sliding off his back, and bade farewell to the children.
“See you again.”
“Goodbye! Have a safe journey!”
“Goodbye, brother!”
After walking slowly for over half an hour, with some strength restored, Ran Fu resumed his sprint.
The wind gently lifted him, allowing him to move faster.
Ning Li saw the scenery blur past, everything turning into a haze of light.
The children were no longer visible, and they had left the Mass Graveyard, officially entering the outskirts of Area 61.
How strange.
The Ran Fu before her and the Ran Fu in her memories were merging little by little, then separating again—they seemed like two different people.
Could Ran Fu really be so knowledgeable?
Could he have such seemingly endless patience?
Was this person truly Ran Fu?
Or was he, like her, someone different?
Ning tried to grab the hem of his clothes, tightening her grip bit by bit as if clutching a last straw.
Sensing her unease, Ran Fu slowed slightly, his clear voice carried by the wind into her ear, “Do you think I’m running too fast?”
Ning Li shook her head.
“Are you feeling unwell?”
“No.”
Ning buried herself into his back, her voice muffled, “Brother, you’re the most important person in my life. You’ll always protect me, right?”
You’ll bring me the God-given Item, won’t you?
You’ll help me awaken my spiritual form, won’t you?
You’ll help me survive successfully, won’t you?
Ning Li thought calmly: to Ran Fu, what really set her apart from those orphans?
They were all weak, living day to day.
Her only advantage was that she was Ran Fu’s sister, bound to him by blood.
If Ran Fu hadn’t changed, that blood bond would be enough.
They grew up relying on each other.
He would willingly venture into the Deformed Species’ nests for her, check if there really was a God-given Item over there.
But Ran Fu had changed.
He treated every life equally.
He wouldn’t look down on orphans because of their plight, nor laugh at their ignorance.
He respected every life’s existence.
Without her, he would probably have agreed to their requests to follow him.
But this time, he refused.
What about next time?
Would the blood bond still be enough?
She had to deepen that bond.
Ran Fu was her brother, the most important person in her life.
But what about him?
Was she still the most important person to him?
She was eager to confirm this.
Ran Fu was silent for a moment, as if pondering or digesting Ning Li’s words.
Seconds later, she heard his reply:
“I will protect you.”
But he didn’t say she was the most important person in his life.
What, then, was?
The Ran Fu of memory was easy to understand.
Strong, cold, with only Ran Wu as family.
But the Ran Fu now seemed to carry an infinite, vast galaxy within him—deep and mysterious, difficult to comprehend.
The sky gradually brightened.
The outskirts of Area 61 were far from the war zones.
The crisp sound of birdsong could be heard.
It was quiet and peaceful.
For a while, the only sound was Ran Fu’s footsteps crushing dry branches and leaves.
Ning Li looked up at the ever-calm, ever-vast horizon and said to herself, “They all call you brother, all want to follow you, but I hope you will always be my brother alone.”
In her past life, Ning Li had never called Ning Ke ‘brother’ after growing up, but when she called Ran Fu ‘brother,’ the word came out naturally and smoothly.
The body carrying her suddenly stiffened.
After a few seconds, he nonchalantly broke into a run again.
But Ning Li knew—he had heard her.