The girl blinked, then understood what was happening. She began to use all her spiritual power, pressing down on him with the weight of a small mountain.
This was no longer a game. It was a battle for survival.
“389!”
At this number, Xuan Ye paused briefly, hearing the faint crack of his shoulder blade under the strain.
No hesitation. He continued.
“410!”
After this count, he coughed up blood—a bright red stream that splattered two meters away, staining Ban Xia’s sandals.
No hesitation. He continued.
“450!”
The girl had exhausted her spiritual energy by this point and could no longer exert pressure on his back. Instead, she placed her fingers on his neck, igniting invisible ghost fire.
The fire spread, blistering and rotting his skin, climbing inch by inch toward his scalp. Even his hair began to smolder and burn away.
No hesitation. He continued.
The girl tilted her head, perplexed. Resting against his back, her eyes softened slightly, her malevolence fading. “You really… really want to finish the game? Why? You could have taken me in already.”
Xuan Ye, panting heavily, couldn’t answer. He simply lifted his gaze to Ban Xia, as though seeking her help.
Ban Xia snapped out of her daze, clutching her throat. It took great effort to rasp out a few words, mimicking a preacher: “This world has good people and bad people. You have to believe that hearts can be warm and nights can be bright. Not everyone is like your father…”
“Lies! I don’t believe you! Adults always say one thing and do another!”
The girl’s furious response proved Ban Xia’s attempt at reasoning had failed miserably.
Grinding her teeth, Ban Xia stomped her foot again and stepped forward. “Then what do you want? Your father wronged you, and I’m sure you’ve already made him pay. Do you want this man, who’s keeping his promise to you, to suffer the same fate as your father?”
The girl hesitated, her anger faltering. “My father didn’t die because of me. When I went back, my whole family had died from the plague… I…”
“Maybe—just maybe—this man is your father reborn,” Ban Xia said, lowering her voice soothingly. “He’s carrying you now. If he can carry you to the end, can you forgive him?”
The girl froze, her face turning upward as if lost in thought.
Her father had been kind to her once.
There was a time when she sprained her ankle while herding sheep. Her father had carried her all the way home. His shoulders were warm and broad—just like Xuan Ye’s now.
“482!”
Xuan Ye’s voice rang out clearly, but his strength finally gave out. He fell to one knee, the impact nearly shattering his kneecap.
The girl didn’t grow angry at this pause. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him, almost timidly, and asked softly, “Father… this time, will you really stay with me until the very end?”
Xuan Ye said nothing. He simply straightened up, steadying himself as he swung the jump rope to his feet.
The weight on his back had lessened slightly, making it easier for him to stand this time. The girl slipped her hand into the neckline of his robe.
In the winter, her hands had often been covered in chilblains, and her father used to warm them for her by tucking them into his own clothing.
He hadn’t always been unkind. There were moments, though rare, when he showed her care. Her father had been a busy, exhausted man, toiling like an ox to provide for so many mouths.
“Maybe,” Ban Xia interjected, “maybe he threw you away because he didn’t want you to suffer anymore.”
The girl’s lips curled into a cold smile.
Who would believe such a lie? She might look like a child on the outside, but she had existed in this world for decades. She was no fool.
Now, she had to consider: if this man really was her father, if he truly intended to stay with her this time, keeping his promise without abandoning her, should she forgive him?
Maybe Ban Xia was right. There were both good and bad people in this world. Perhaps in this life, her father wasn’t as heartless as he had been before.
With these thoughts, the girl fell silent, following Xuan Ye’s rhythm. She rested her face against his back, the small blue mark beneath her eye faintly glimmering as she whispered, “This time, Father, you won’t leave me, will you? No matter what?”
Xuan Ye could no longer respond. His internal organs were clearly damaged, and blood seeped from his ears.
The girl reached out and wiped the blood from his ear. Her voice turned soft and childlike again, as if nothing had happened. “If only you had been like this earlier, Father. If you had, I wouldn’t have held a grudge against you at all.”
“497!” Ban Xia called loudly from the side.
The weight on Xuan Ye’s shoulders eased further. A cooling sensation flowed from the girl’s fingers, and the burns on his face began to heal, revealing his original features bit by bit.
“498!”
The girl said nothing more. She closed her eyes slightly, resting her head against the hollow of Xuan Ye’s shoulder.
That time, when her father had carried her home after she sprained her ankle, she had done the same, gradually falling asleep against his back.
So be it. She had hated and resented for so long. After decades of waiting, all she ever wanted was someone who would keep their word and never abandon her.
“499!”
“500!”
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