Love Burning Amidst the Ashes. - Chapter 4

The smell of death hung thick in the air — a rotten mix of decayed leaves and muddy filth, clinging to their noses and mouths like sticky poison. Xu Qing Xuan dragged his half-conscious brother, Xu Qing Feng, stumbling through the freezing sludge. Every step made a disgusting “squelch” sound that turned the stomach.

Ahead, a cave mouth half-hidden by vines and jagged rocks yawned open like the jaws of some beast, spewing out a cold, fishy wind that bit through their skin. Above them, the sound of digging, shouting, and falling rocks grew louder — like a noose tightening around their necks, inch by inch.

“Bro… I… I can’t run anymore…” Xu Qing Feng’s voice broke between gasps, tinged with tears. His body felt as heavy as lead, drained of every ounce of strength. One of his legs sank deep into the mud — up to his knee — and no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t pull it free. Despair, cold and suffocating, washed over him once again.

Xu Qing Xuan froze. A sharp gleam flashed in his clear, cold eyes. He didn’t hesitate, not even for a heartbeat — didn’t spare a single glance at his trapped brother. All his focus was locked on the sound of digging that was getting closer and closer!

He clenched the Yin-Yang jade pendant in his hand — it still gave off a faint, gentle glow, like a lighthouse in the dark. At its center, a tiny bead the size of a grain of rice pulsed with warmth, sending a cool, steady energy into his mind, pushing back the chaos and keeping him barely, barely conscious.

Then —

“CRAAACK— BOOOOM!!!”

A thunderous roar exploded behind them! Tons of dirt, rocks, and tree roots collapsed from the tunnel they’d just escaped. The whole cave trembled violently, like an earthquake. A thick cloud of dust rushed out, choking the air.

Screams echoed from above — short, sharp, and panicked. Then came the furious shouts of their pursuers:

“It’s collapsing! Fall back!”
“Hold the spell! Don’t let those brats get away!”
“Ahh! My leg— help—!”

The chaos was swallowed by the roar of falling debris.

This was it. Their chance!

Xu Qing Xuan’s eyes blazed with resolve. The cave-in had blocked the pursuers, but it also sealed off their way back. Now, the only path left — that dark, eerie hole ahead — was the only way out.

Without wasting another second, he turned around and grabbed his brother’s arm, pulling with everything he had. The mud sucked greedily at Xu Qing Feng’s leg.

“Get up!” Xu Qing Xuan’s voice was hoarse but carried an iron will that brooked no refusal. His muscles bulged, veins stood out under his skin, his body trembling from the effort. The burning pain on his back and the pounding in his skull — he shoved them all aside.

Maybe it was his brother’s determination, maybe just pure survival instinct, but Xu Qing Feng suddenly roared — a raw, animal sound — and heaved upward.

“SHLUCK!” The mud finally let go with a wet pop! The force of it sent both brothers stumbling backward, crashing against the cold, slimy cave wall, gasping for breath. The chill of the stone seeped right through their clothes, biting into their bones.

“Go!” Xu Qing Xuan barked, wasting no time. After catching his breath for just a second, he hauled his brother up again and sprinted toward the cave that reeked of damp air and danger. The foul mud splashed beneath their feet, flying in all directions like droplets of death.

Just as they were about to reach the mouth of the cave, ready to tear away the hanging vines that looked like ghostly claws—

“Ugh… khh…”
A faint, broken groan slipped through the air — so weak it sounded like the last breath of someone clinging to life.
It came from beneath a mound of rotting leaves and mud on the far side of the cavern.

The sound was so soft it nearly vanished under the echoes of the collapse above and the brothers’ ragged breathing — but Xu Qing Xuan froze in place. His whole body went stiff, blood turning to ice in his veins.

That voice… that voice…?!

He snapped his head toward the source, eyes sharp as blades. His hand, still clutching the jade pendant, began to tremble violently. The gentle white glow flickered with his shaking, lighting up his face — pale as death.

Xu Qing Feng heard it too. He tore free from his brother’s grasp and threw himself toward the mound like a madman, shouting hoarsely, “Father—! Father, is that you?! Father—!!”
Covered in filth, he clawed at the pile of decaying leaves and muck, ignoring the foul stench burning his nose.

Rotten leaves, sludge, broken branches — all were flung aside in desperation.

And finally, beneath it all…
a human shape.

Xu Chang Lin.

Half-buried in the cold, fetid mud, his face was gray as paper, his lips an unnatural shade of purple-blue. His breathing was so faint it barely stirred the air — like a candle flickering in the wind.
The rough fabric of his chest was torn open, revealing a ghastly wound that ran diagonally across his torso — deep enough to expose bone. Under the dim light, the injury gaped hideously, the flesh around it swollen and black-purple — poisoned. Dark red blood, mixed with pitch-black venom, had soaked into the mud beneath him, forming a wide, sickening stain.
One arm was twisted at an impossible angle — shattered during the explosion and cave-in.

“FATHER——!!!”
Xu Qing Feng’s scream tore through the cavern, raw and heart-wrenching. He dropped to his knees beside his father, his trembling hands reaching out but stopping short of the wound. He could only grab his father’s cold, stiff hand, tears streaming down his face — hot tears that splashed onto the lifeless pallor of his father’s skin.

“Father! Hold on! Please, hold on! I’m here — brother’s here too! We’ll… we’ll get you out! We’ll…” His voice broke apart, crumbling under the weight of terror and grief.

Xu Chang Lin’s eyelids fluttered, barely moving — even that tiny motion seemed to drain what little life remained. With painful effort, he cracked his eyes open. The warmth that once lived in them was gone — replaced by a distant haze. Under the faint jade glow, his vision slowly steadied. He saw his youngest son weeping by his side… and, a few steps away, his eldest — Xu Qingxuan — pale, trembling, clutching the glowing jade in silence.

“…Feng… Xuan…”
The words slipped out like dying embers, barely audible, each syllable soaked in the metallic taste of blood and fading breath.

“Father! I’m here! Don’t talk! Please, don’t— we’ll save you, we—” Xu Qing Feng babbled in panic, as if speaking fast enough could hold back death itself.

Xu Qing Xuan staggered, as though struck by something unseen. His legs gave way, and he knelt in the freezing mud beside his father.
He stared at the gaping wound, at the gray pallor, at the venom-tainted blood that kept seeping from his chest. His mind went blank. Every calculation, every trace of composure shattered into nothing.
Only despair remained — a cold, endless abyss swallowing his heart whole.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His throat burned like molten iron. All he could do was clutch the jade tighter and tighter, until his knuckles cracked and the faint light trembled between his fingers, as if it, too, were about to break.

Xu Chang Lin’s clouded eyes drifted past his sobbing younger son and found his eldest.
In that fading gaze, there was no fear, no despair — only trust, and a plea burning brighter than life itself.

With trembling effort, he raised the hand that was still whole, smeared with blood and dirt, and slowly pointed at the jade clenched in Xu Qing Xuan’s fist.

“…Xuan…er…” Xu Chang Lin’s voice rasped like an old bellows — broken, hoarse, barely more than a whisper, yet carrying a weight that cut straight through the soul. “…Take… this…”

Each word he forced out sent another surge of dark, foul-smelling blood spilling from the gaping wound in his chest. His breathing turned ragged, weaker with every syllable — like life itself was slipping away through that wound.

As if pulled by invisible strings, Xu Qing Xuan slowly opened his trembling fist. In his palm lay the warm, faintly glowing yin-yang pendant, its gentle light casting soft shadows across his father’s ashen face — and his own bloodless fingers.

Xu Chang Lin’s eyes lingered on the pendant. A flicker of emotion stirred within them — relief, memory, sorrow… and something far deeper. With the last of his strength, he forced out words that broke apart between gasps, each one heavier than a mountain:

“…Protect… it… and your brother…”

“…The pendant… will guide… you both…”

“…Run… live… no matter what… you must… live…”

Before he could finish that final word, the hand pointing toward the pendant froze mid-air — then dropped, limp, into the cold, muddy ground. A few dirty splashes scattered upward. His gaze went completely still, staring into the endless darkness above the cave, lips parted as if he still had more to say… but never would.

And then — silence.

“Father—!!!” Xu Qing Feng’s scream tore through the cave, raw and broken — like a lone wolf howling at the moon with blood on its fangs. He collapsed onto his father’s body, still faintly warm, clutching the blood-stained robes and crying until his whole body shook, like grief might tear his insides apart. The pain was tidal — swallowing everything, even his sanity.

“AHHHH! You bastards! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all!!” he roared, lifting his head. His eyes were red, shot through with veins like cracks of lightning, burning with a hatred so wild it could burn the world down. He sprang to his feet like a beast gone mad — not even glancing at his brother — and bolted toward the direction of the collapsed tunnel, where faint digging and curses still echoed.

He didn’t care. He’d tear them apart. Every last one of them. Even if it killed him.

“Qing Feng!!”

When their father’s breath stopped, Xu Qing Xuan felt himself fall into a pit of ice — cold enough to freeze his soul. Pain and grief ripped through him like knives, but when his brother lunged forward like a mad dog, something inside him snapped — instinct took over, sharp and deadly.

No! You charge in, you die!
Father and Mother traded their lives for this one chance — he can’t throw it away!

All the grief, all the despair, condensed into one thing — pure, cold determination.

As Qing Feng’s body lunged past him, Xu Qing Xuan moved.

He was a blur — fast, precise, ruthless.

His left hand shot out like an iron clamp, locking tight around Qing Feng’s wrist, right over the pulse point. The grip was so strong it could’ve crushed bone. At the same time, his right leg swung low, silent and swift like a striking viper, slamming hard into Qingfeng’s unguarded ankle.

Qing Feng, blinded by rage, never saw it coming. Pain shot through him; his body jerked forward, balance gone, a roar of surprise breaking from his throat.

Before he could hit the ground, Xu Qing Xuan yanked his wrist down sharply, forcing his body lower — and with his free hand, his fingers stiffened like blades, slicing through the air with a sharp whoosh!

Fast. Precise. Merciless.

The strike landed clean on the back of Qing Feng’s neck — right at the point that would knock him out cold.
“Ugh!”
Xu Qing Feng felt a sharp jolt shoot down the back of his neck — like being struck by lightning. His vision went black in an instant. The furious roar that had just shaken the cavern vanished mid-breath. His crimson eyes widened in shock, disbelief frozen within them… and then, everything went dark. His body went limp, collapsing forward like a puppet with its strings cut — straight into Xu Qingxuan’s waiting arms.

Xu Qing Xuan’s face stayed cold and unreadable, as if that ruthless strike hadn’t come from him at all. His eyes, dark and icy, revealed nothing — except for the tight line of his lips that trembled ever so slightly. Quickly, he checked his brother’s pulse and breathing. Only unconscious. Relief flickered through his chest for the briefest moment.

He laid Xu Qing Feng gently against the dry wall of the cavern, then slowly sank to his knees before their father’s cold, lifeless body. With trembling fingers, he reached out — the gesture careful, reverent — and closed his father’s eyes, which still stared open, unaccepting of death. The skin beneath his fingertips was ice-cold, biting to the touch.

He took a deep breath. The air was thick with decay, blood, and death — but he breathed it in anyway, forcing it deep into his lungs like punishment. When he opened his eyes again, every trace of grief had vanished. What remained was silence — a terrifying calm, sharp enough to cut steel.

He took the Yin-Yang pendant from his father’s grasp — still faintly glowing — and pressed it against his chest, beneath his clothes. The jade was cool, smooth, and somehow… alive. That chill seeped into his heart, anchoring his breaking sanity.

Above him, the rumble of collapsing earth finally stopped — only for shouting and the clang of metal to echo once again. The hunters were still digging. Closer now.

> “Dig! Faster! The pendant’s energy is still below! They can’t escape!”
“Those little bastards — I’ll skin them alive!”
“Old Zhang, use your talismans! Tear this place apart!”

Death was coming. Again.

Xu Qing Xuan looked one last time at his father’s face — peaceful now, but cold as stone. That single look burned itself into his memory. Then he stood up sharply, no hesitation. He tore the sturdy hemp cord from his waist and tied his unconscious brother tightly to his back — one last knot, unbreakable.

Xu Qing Feng’s weight dragged at him, the pain in his back flaring like fire — but Xu Qing Xuan didn’t even flinch. His eyes locked onto the tunnel ahead, dark and damp, breathing cold air like a monster’s mouth.

The vines hanging at its entrance swayed in the faint white glow of the pendant, like skeletal fingers beckoning him forward. The wind from inside was freezing — whispering of danger and death. But it was their only way out.

The sound of digging grew louder. Stones tumbled from the ceiling. No more time.

Without a second thought, Xu Qing Xuan bent low — like a predator ready to strike — and dashed straight into the darkness, his brother on his back.

The freezing air swallowed them whole. The faint glow of the pendant flickered… then vanished.

Behind him lay his father’s corpse, their shattered home, and a hatred soaked in blood.
Ahead — only endless darkness, death, and the faintest hope of survival.

Xu Qing Xuan plunged into the abyss — a lone blade, drenched in blood, cutting into the heart of the unknown.
Every step splashed through cold mud… and onto the tightrope of fate itself.