“If I offer it to the current emperor, he might pardon my father’s crimes.”
A strange look flashed across the black-clad youth’s face.
“A secret that every emperor desires…” He murmured. “Are you talking about… the secret of immortality?”
Zhi Nu nodded.
But the youth shook his head firmly. “No. You can’t use something like that to beg for a pardon. Not only will it fail to save your father—it will get you killed as well.”
Zhi Nu froze.
It felt as though a bucket of ice-cold water had just been poured over him.
For the first time, he truly processed what the youth was saying.
And he couldn’t deny that it made sense.
The emperor would never allow an ordinary commoner to possess the secret of immortality.
And even if Zhi Nu somehow managed to bring the Eastern Xia Chronicles before the emperor, what then?
He was only thirteen years old.
How could he possibly protect such a dangerous secret?
How could he possibly walk into the imperial palace and survive?
Seeing that Zhi Nu was no longer so agitated, the youth softened his voice.
“Sit down. Let me apply some medicine to your wounds. You need to take care of your body first before you can think about saving your father.”
“If you keep charging ahead recklessly, what if something happens to you? Won’t your family be heartbroken?”
Zhi Nu lowered his head.
After a long pause, he whispered, “I… don’t have family anymore.”
The youth hesitated, then asked, “Your father was convicted. But what about your mother?”
Zhi Nu's head dropped even lower.
“…She abandoned me. She didn’t want me anymore.”
For a long moment, the youth was silent.
Then, in a voice that was uncharacteristically hesitant, he said:
“So you’re just like me…”
“When I was very young, my mother abandoned me too.”
“She left me behind and returned to her homeland.”
A pause.
Then, the youth asked, “What’s your name?”
Zhi Nu whispered, “My parents always called me Zhi Nu.”
The youth nodded.
“Zhi Nu, my name is Qilin.”
A hint of amusement entered his tone. “I’m always running around and getting into trouble, so I always keep medicine for bruises and scrapes. Sit down—I’ll treat your wounds.”
Zhi Nu hesitated for a moment, then followed his instructions, sitting down and tilting his head back so that Qilin could apply the medicine.
And that was when—
For the first time, Zhi Nu got a clear look at Qilin’s face.
His hand tightened around the iron mask in his palm.
"Qilin… have I met you before?"
Something about him felt incredibly familiar, but no matter how hard he tried, Zhi Nu couldn't recall when or where they might have crossed paths.
Qilin smiled. "I don’t think we’ve met before. But you do seem familiar to me as well. Maybe it’s just fate."
Zhi Nu fell silent, simply watching Qilin work as he carefully applied medicine to his forehead wound.
With practiced ease, Qilin then wrapped the injury with a silk handkerchief, embroidered with a qilin pattern.
Zhi Nu found it strange.
A moment ago, when he had touched his forehead, the bump had been large and swollen.
But from start to finish, he hadn’t felt a single ounce of pain.
The moon slowly dipped below the horizon.
In the east, a single morning star shone brightly.
"It’s almost dawn," Qilin remarked. "When you ran into that tree, were you trying to escape from someone? Will they still be chasing you once the sun rises?"
Zhi Nu hesitated for a moment before answering. "They were chasing me because they wanted to steal the purple-gold box. I think… while I was unconscious, they must have already taken it."
Qilin let out a soft sigh. "Mortals all desire the secret of immortality. But in truth, living forever… isn’t as wonderful as they imagine."
Zhi Nu caught onto something odd in his words.
"Mortals?" he repeated. "Are you saying you’re not one? Do you actually know what immortality feels like?"
Qilin’s lips curled into a bright, dazzling smile.
"Of course I do. I’m a little immortal god who never dies."
For a brief second, Zhi Nu was dazed by the brilliance of that smile.
The world blurred around him.
And then—
He woke up.
It had all been a dream.
The encounter with Qilin, the conversation, the warmth of his presence—none of it had been real.
When Zhi Nu opened his eyes, the sky was already bright with daylight.
He was still lying beneath the tree, in the exact same position he had fallen.
And—
The purple-gold box was still clutched tightly in his arms, completely untouched.
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