IWOL Chapter 197: Recognizing Feelings

Tang Ji would never forget that moment in the heavy rain. The assassination squad was about to arrive. He’d fallen to the ground, unable to get up, and could only watch as the bloodied man walked toward him. The man pressed his foot down hard on his chest and raised his scimitar like an executioner.

It was as if he could hear that dead woman screaming: “Off with his head!”

But he didn’t die in the end. How could he die before he’d managed to step on everyone and become the strongest fighter?

Tang Ji narrowed his eyes. He looked at the ridiculous makeup on the clown, raised his chin toward the curtain where the clown had just walked out from, and said, “Cui Zuojing is inside?”

“I can’t let you take him away.” The clown stared at the young man standing not far from him. After such a long time, Tang Ji still looked the same as when he first saw him. It seemed that the queen’s desire to stay young forever had also affected her followers.

“Really?”

Before his words fell, the young man’s figure disappeared in place. The clown crossed his arms in front of him and instantly blocked the whip that suddenly appeared before him. The huge impact ricocheted from the blade to his arms. The clown’s muscles tightened, and the seams of his shirt strained. Instead of backing up, he took a big step forward and shot out with the tip of his blade.

Stab!

The blade slashed the corners of Tang Ji’s clothes and it fluttered to the ground. Tang Ji moved very fast, nearly dragging out afterimages. But it was useless in front of the clown. No matter where Tang Ji moved, as long as he remained on this battlefield, it would be almost impossible for him to escape the clown’s blade.

This was his confidence as a slayer.

Slayer wasn’t a specific ability. Rather, it represented a type of person, one with a super aggressive ability.

Every slayer was a warrior destined to stand on top. Cui Zuojing could turn anything in his hands into the sharpest and strongest weapon, while the clown could lock on to his opponent. As long as a person was locked, he would be killed.

This was why no one was able to successfully escape the Blood Night in the novice area where the clown was the cleanser.

“Don’t be naïve. You know you aren’t my opponent,” the clown said indifferently. “If you don’t want to die here, just get out.”

Tang Ji landed on the ground lightly, his poisoned whip gleaming with a strange luster. He stared at the blood-red smiling lips on the clown’s face and slowly revealed a distorted grin. “How can I know if I don’t try?”

Moisture was gradually brewing in the air. The clown didn’t intend to let this uninvited guest get away. Cui Zuojing was still inside withdrawing his feelings, and he needed someone to look after him. No longer wasting time, the clown tightened his grip on the handle of his blade and rushed toward the young man in black.

Ping!

The blade and the whip collided with a piercing sound. The ping-ping-ping-ping-ping rang out endlessly, nearly connecting into a curtain of sounds. In the pure white space, two afterimages were intertwined, separating and heavily colliding

One of the figures made a movement, creating a sharp wind that lifted the corner of the curtains. In an instant, the two of them fought for dozens of rounds. Suddenly, with a loud, cracking sound, the figure in black flew upside down from the air. Like a missile, he slammed into the ground!

The young man’s arms and legs were covered with bloodstains. His black combat uniform didn’t seem bloodied, but it was obviously wet.

The clown followed after him and landed forcefully, the terrifying impact of his weight nearly smashing a pit into the ground. With a loud shout, he abruptly rushed at Tang Ji, who had yet to muster up the strength to rise!

Tang Ji’s pupils shrank sharply, and he kicked at the ground, attempting to turn over and dodge the clown’s strike.

Clang—

It wasn’t the sound of blade cutting into a human body, but that of a paper umbrella coming between the blade and Tang Ji.

A sheet of cold rain slowly fell, bringing a bitter chill.

The umbrella turned in the girl’s hand. The surface of the umbrella gently pushed the scimitar aside, revealing the countless blood fingerprints underneath. Chang Hui stood in front of Tang Ji, holding a paper umbrella with a silver bracelet on her wrist. She raised her hand to smooth her short hair and smiled at the clown, “Why be so serious?”

The rain was getting heavier and it fell on his body, making him shiver. Tang Ji held his injured arm and stood up, smiling a kind of normal smile that was rarely seen on his face.

The little white fur beast sniffed under Tang Ji’s feet and jumped on her shoulder in disgust, leaving him to face eight tails.

“You provoked me first.” The clown shook off the blood on his blade. He seemed to have some scruples about killing Chang Hui. The evil intentions carried by this piercing rain made him feel uncomfortable from the bottom of his heart.

The umbrella protected Chang Hui from this terrible curtain of rain. She looked up at the clown and said softly, “But the best warrior shouldn’t just care about what’s in front of your eyes. Go and take a look at our little black goat.”

The clown’s expression suddenly shifted. He suddenly realized that since he came out, he hadn’t heard Cui Zuojing’s voice from beginning to end.

He clenched the scimitar in his hand, stepped back, and said coldly, “You both should hope that you haven’t done something you shouldn’t have done.”

Chang Hui didn’t answer and just smiled her usual soft smile.

It was still raining, and soon the clown’s shoulders and hair were wet. He returned to the curtains and turned his head to look at the young man and the girl under the umbrella in the rain. Then, he lifted the curtain and entered.

Chang Hui retracted his gaze and turned to Tang Ji, who felt slightly embarrassed. “Let’s go.”

“……” The pain of the wound made him more excited. Tang Ji ignored the snake sucking blood from his wounds and said, “You saved me again.”

“I don’t want to have to save you a third time.” Chang Hui sighed lightly, and looking at the end of the track, she took the lead in leaving.

Tang Ji opened his mouth, but didn’t know what he wanted to say. He had always been lawless, but whenever he was in front of this girl, he seemed to be bounded by his hands and feet, and he was not himself.

He somewhat hated this feeling, but he was reluctant to kill Chang Hui as before.

What a headache.

The feeling that the devil rain gave him was really bad. Tang Ji hurriedly followed her and ducked under Chang Hui’s umbrella. “Has the plan gone well?”

Although he was crazy, he wasn’t braindead. Of course, he wouldn’t rush to his death when he knew he wasn’t the clown’s opponent. Everything he’d done was to buy Chang Hui time.

The corners of Chang Hui’s lips raised into a smile. “Of course.”

**************

“A’Zuo!” the clown shouted, returning to the small bar. With a glance, he saw the shattered glass bottle and Cui Zuojing lying on the ground.

His heart dropped. Chang Hui must have sneaked in while he was fighting with Tang Ji. He strode forward, lifted Cui Zuojing up, and finally heard him crying.

….He was okay?

The clown froze.

Cui Zuojing clenched his teeth and propped up his body. Having an accumulated whole year’s worth of emotions returning to his body…there was sorrow, happiness, pain, anger, joy…They were all so intertwined in layer upon layers that they nearly crushed him.

And there was an unspoken love.

It was an emotion he’d never thought much about before. Unexpectedly…unexpectedly, it was so ardent.

“Are you okay?”

Cui Zuojing nodded with great effort. And then he suddenly felt warm liquid falling on the back of his hand.

Those were his tears.

More tears continued to fall, and soon the back of his hand was completely wet. Cui Zuojing turned over and sat on the bar, raised his hand to cover his eyes, and took a deep breath.

The clown squatted down beside him, the blade in his hand still dripping with blood. He wanted to speak but stopped himself. Although he was anxious to know what Chang Hui did, he couldn’t speak at this moment.

He could only put one hand on Cui Zuojing’s shoulder, but what the young man needed at this moment didn’t seem to be comfort.

Cui Zuojing never made a sound, but his tears flowed uncontrollably. Those turbulent and contradictory joys and sorrows intertwined into the most complex taste in his heart. As time passed, it gradually calmed down and re-rooted in his soul.

There was only one kind of feeling left. Instead of dulling, it only intensified.

When he confessed his feelings and stole a kiss, why didn’t he directly slap him? Why did he agree to his pursuit on the swing in Heimdall’s Garden? Why did he think of sleeping with him when he was afraid? Why did he enjoy his actions on the last Blood Night?

Cui Zuojing knew what his acquiescence to Dong Zheng stem from.

When did he start liking Dong Zheng?

Was it at that time on the snowy cliff, when the man knelt in front of him, tears melting the snow and ice that was mixed with Allen’s blood, and he’d said in a muffled voice that he’d lost Allen? Those tears had fallen on his fingertips, nearly burning him.

Or was it when he was trapped in the room full of water and was about to drown? When he was suffering from mental torture, had Dong Zheng’s refreshing energy sank into his heart?

Or was it earlier?

In Doll’s House, they were playing blackjack, and Dong Zheng grabbed his hand, pressed him down onto the bed, and pushed his hand under his shirt to search for hidden cards. In the stormy night, they had a heart-to-heart chat, and Dong Zheng was just a little fragile. During the American-Russian championship, the brush of Dong Zheng’s lips against the tip of his ear. In the underground cave on Dusk Island, Dong Zheng blocked his body from being pierced by that sharp stone protrusion. Their perfect cooperation when facing Hydra in the gloomy swamp. When Dong Zheng kissed him for the first time, making him feel flustered and helpless. The strange feelings he’d felt when Dong Zheng confessed to him…Everything flashed before his eyes.

Cui Zuojing wiped away his tears, and finally stood up.

“What happened?” He sniffed and looked at the clown with red eyes.

“It was J.” The clown also didn’t know Tang Ji’s name, or perhaps, he knew Tang Ji’s name when he was still a pilgrim and didn’t want to mention it.

Cui Zuojing felt the dampness and abnormal chill in the air, paused, and asked, “Was Chang Hui here too?”

“Yes, she should have come inside when J was distracting me. You didn’t see her?”

Cui Zuojing shook his head. At that time, he’d been overwhelmed by his newly recovered emotions. He’d closed his eyes, bowed down, and fallen onto his knees on the ground, completely ignoring the situation around him.

The seal on the inside of his wrist flashed faintly, and Cui Zuojing pressed a finger against it. The power of time was fluctuating due to his recovered emotions, but this wasn’t unusual.

The clown frowned. “If I remember correctly. Chang Hui have always wanted to make a deal with you.”

“Yes, she fancied my desire to kill the Queen and change everything.” Cui Zuojing looked as if he’d calmed down, but in fact it was just appearance.

“She definitely came in just now. It’s impossible that she didn’t do anything, otherwise she wouldn’t have specifically let Tang Ji delay me.”

“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with me.” Cui Zuojing looked around. “Could it be that she took something from you? If her goal was me, I wouldn’t be standing here and talking to you now.”

Took something? The clown looked around. He knew that there wasn’t anything important in the bar, so he hadn’t paid attention to the surroundings.

The canned food he’s especially prepared for Victor was still on the bar. The poster was still in the same spot, and the clothes he’d changed out of and placed on the sofa hadn’t moved…

Wait!

The clown’s expression turned apprehensive. One of the eight boxes on the second shelf of the wine cabinet was missing!

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