Chapter 88: A Flock of Fools! (A Grand Chapter of Four Thousand Words)

"Don’t you hate them?" After a long hesitation, Yu Daoyi spoke softly, gazing at the villagers before him who still howled and raged, their faces twisted and ferocious. How strong must this girl be, he wondered, to have endured and persisted so long?

"I don’t hate them. Actually, everyone is very kind—the village chief, Uncle Zhang, Uncle Li, Aunt Zhao, and the others. When our family had no food, Xiao Qian and I only survived because everyone shared and helped us." Yao Yao seemed to recall something, and a sweet smile blossomed on her lips.

"I believe they didn’t do it on purpose. They just didn’t remember who I was—otherwise, they would never have hurt me." Yao Yao looked up at the night sky with innocent conviction. Perhaps she was not certain enough at first, but she repeated with determination, "They definitely wouldn’t."

Above, the moon remained blood-red, without a single star in sight; even the wind from afar carried a thick scent of blood. Beneath an enormous peach tree, the two of them leaned closely together, and even in the night, the petals drifted gently down.

"Fool," Yu Daoyi whispered.

"I’m not a fool! I’m clever! I know everything!" Yao Yao protested at once, pouting her lips.

Yu Daoyi gave a laugh, part mocking, part aching.

After a long while, the villagers before them seemed to realize that no matter what they did, they could not approach the two beneath the tree. Frustrated and desperate to vent their pent-up aggression, they turned on one another, leaping at whoever was nearest and biting down with bloody mouths. The scene was a slaughter, men and women, young and old alike, and Yu Daoyi had to look away.

"Do you know why they can’t come here?" Yu Daoyi asked, frowning.

"I don’t know either. The first time I found this place, it was as if a voice told me it was safe here. But I didn’t have the strength to carry Xiao Qian all the way, so I hid him in the cellar. I could only hide myself in the cellar as well."

"But one day, Xiao Qian will be found. So I had to draw everyone here. At least with me here, they wouldn’t go looking for Xiao Qian, and it just so happens they’re afraid to come near." Though she had endured this countless times, Yao Yao still couldn’t bear to look at the scene before her. She could only lift her head and murmur.

"It’s strange, though. Every time I don’t escape in time, when morning comes, I find myself under this peach tree. I don’t know why." She scratched her head with a silly smile, but her foolishness only made Yu Daoyi’s heart ache.

Simple words, but unspeakable bitterness was woven within. She was only sixteen—a girl who appeared fragile but was exceptionally strong. She expressed her love in her own unique way, yet this love was unbearably heavy.

Every time, she used a smile to conceal her pain. She glossed over the agony of being torn and bitten by the villagers as if it was nothing, never telling anyone how much suffering she bore.

She didn’t speak of it, so no one would ever know. She didn’t speak, so no one would be hurt. She didn’t speak, all the pain was hers alone to endure. She didn’t speak, and Peach Blossom Village would remain, forever unchanged.

And so she had come to this, alone.

"Yao Yao," Yu Daoyi called softly.

"Mm?" She turned her delicate face to him. Even pale in this blood-red night, her beauty was soul-stirring.

"From now on, I’ll help you." As if making a firm resolve, Yu Daoyi spoke forcefully, without any ulterior motive—he simply wanted to protect this fragile yet resilient girl, this girl who made his heart ache so unbearably.

"Mm!" She stared for a moment, unable to find a reason to refuse. It was as if she had heard the sweetest words in the world; as if, finally, she was no longer alone. In that blood-soaked night, Yao Yao’s lips curved in a pure, innocent smile—so bright it outshone heaven and earth.

Yu Daoyi did not know that, in all her nights in Peach Blossom Village, this was the first time she smiled so openly.

Then, that day arrived.

The same blood moon, the same blood night, but a different ending.

Yu Daoyi watched helplessly as Yao Yao was seized by the villagers—this girl just turned sixteen, this kind and innocent soul, this awkward, silly maiden. They opened their bloody maws and tore at her again and again.

And all he could do was watch—he could do nothing. Nothing at all.

Bloodlust, frenzy, hatred—until rage clouded his mind, until reason was lost in that blood-drenched night.

All he could see was Yao Yao’s pale face, still smiling. Even as the villagers tore and bit at her, she gave him her most beautiful smile.

It was as if she whispered, "Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt at all."

Fool! Fool!! Fool!!!

You really are the biggest fool in the world!!!

A cool breeze drifted from the distant mountains, fragrant with the scent of grass and flowers. Everything before him was so familiar: the mountains, the water, and that tree.

"Howl, howl—this is the first time I’ve ever seen..." That lazy voice came again, but before it could finish, it was brusquely interrupted.

"Shut the hell up!" Yu Daoyi shouted behind him, forcing himself not to collapse.

The scenery was so familiar, yet so blurred. Physical and mental exhaustion forced him to sit down right there, pulling his hand away from his mouth to rub his eyes gently.

A little damp—why? Why was he crying?

It was that fool’s fault! She really was the silliest fool on earth!

"Hey! Why are you yelling at me? What did I ever do to you?" The boy behind him jumped down from the tree, shouting at Yu Daoyi in anger.

"This is torture. And I’m a fool too—I can hardly tell dream from reality anymore." Sitting on the grass, Yu Daoyi muttered with his head down.

"What nonsense are you talking about? What fool?" Xiao Qian shouted from behind.

"I don’t know who you are or why you left me in this situation, but it’s fine. Really, it’s fine." Drawing a deep breath, Yu Daoyi lifted his head, his face twisted. Above him, the sky was a deep blue, like a giant sapphire.

His expression was solemn and cold, all trace of his usual carelessness gone. If Yu Yunfan were here, he would have realized his brother was truly angry.

The sky was pure and blue—a stark contrast to the blood-colored night. After that night with Yao Yao, thanks to her preparations and his help, they managed to get by in peace for a few days. But such peace was only the calm before the storm.

He saw with his own eyes the pain she endured each night.

Those days, Yu Daoyi pondered endlessly why there were two utterly different realities—day and night—but found no clue. The only oddity was the peach tree, but no matter how often he investigated, it was just an ordinary peach tree.

And as Yao Yao had said, once daylight came, everything in the village—or rather, the entire illusion—reset itself. Bloodstains, dead animals, the devoured villagers, ruined houses and forests—everything appeared whole and untouched again at dawn.

Each villager emerged from their house at sunrise, smiling and greeting each other warmly. Whatever happened at night seemed never to have occurred. Even if Yu Daoyi mentioned it, they’d just laugh and say he’d gone crazy.

That smile made him want to punch them.

Except for her. Only Yao Yao remembered the night.

But as more days passed, hoping to find more clues, Yu Daoyi finally faced what he dreaded most. That day, they failed to escape. He could only watch as the girl was hurt and he was powerless.

His physical weakness and mental exhaustion grew worse, not better. In the last days, his vision doubled, his body felt heavier, and in the end, after hiding Xiao Qian, he collapsed while fleeing.

Already worn out and frail, nights spent running and days spent thinking pushed him to the brink; staying conscious became nearly impossible.

He thought he’d simply have to start over. But then, the fool ran to him, even as he intended to give up—even though she could have escaped.

She could have gotten away.

But no matter how he shouted at her, she bit her lip and carried him toward the peach tree again and again.

The soft earth bore her sweat and deep footprints. Her slight shoulders carried him stubbornly. She was never one for words.

I cursed her, I pushed her away, I even struck her. She never complained, only came closer, only carried me again and again.

She fell, she was hurt, and when she could go no further, she smiled and apologized—smiled and said it was her fault, that she hadn’t protected me well enough.

She left me in the end—not to escape, but to lure the villagers away.

They weren’t villagers—they were demons.

She was caught, pinned down by dozens, unable to escape. She became food for those demons, and still, she smiled at me.

What the hell! Why does everything have to fall on you? Why do you bear all this pain alone? How can you still smile?

Are you stupid? You really are a damned fool!!!

He could not forget her smile that night, nor his promise to her. But in the end, he had accomplished nothing.

Why, why! Why am I so useless! I really am trash!

In the end, I am a fool too. I knew she could have survived. I only had to run to the peach tree and wait for dawn—she would reappear there. She had said so: after being hurt and losing consciousness, she always woke beneath the peach tree. I could even have found more clues. But I was a fool too, lost in the illusion as if it were reality, growing more and more confused.

In the end, anger got the better of me. I failed her efforts. She might scold me, she might hit me—but if she did, I think I would smile.

I charged recklessly at the demons, and in the end, I could at least curse her one more time, embrace her one more time, hear her voice one more time.

Her pale face was streaked with blood; once beautiful, now ragged and bitten, her thin body little more than skin and bone, her parched lips whispering three words:

"I’m sorry."

I can try again, you can try again too—but if we meet once more, will we still be the same?

If I had only saved myself that night, I fear I would have lost myself. And if I had chosen you and another chance, I fear you would forget me.

I wanted to help her. I wanted to hold her hand.

It’s fine—I’m a fool too.

It’s fine—I can start over.

In a different way!

Sometimes, I have to do things out of character.

Even if it’s not real, it’s the only reality that matters to me.

"Before I change my mind, get out! Or I’ll kill you!" Yu Daoyi slowly turned his head. His eyes were bloodshot, his appearance haggard as if he hadn’t slept in days. The murderous intent in his eyes would have shocked anyone who knew him.

A faint but real aura of killing intent radiated from him, making Xiao Qian shiver.

"We don’t have any grudge—why would you kill me? This is Peach Blossom Village—my turf!" Xiao Qian stammered, stepping back in fright.

"You really think I’m joking?" Yu Daoyi tilted his head slightly, speaking softly, but the menace in his eyes was unmistakable.

He really would kill—as they did at night.

"Maniac! Murderer!" In the end, the ten-year-old boy could not withstand those bloodshot eyes. He stumbled backward, fleeing toward Peach Blossom Village.

The breeze that swept through now carried a hint of chill and menace.

"If you want to play, I’ll play with you. Let’s see whether my mind collapses and I dissolve in this world first, or if you can just stand by while I turn this place upside down!" He punched himself hard, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Forcing himself up from the grass, crimson light began to emanate from his body, giving him a demonic air.

"Ancient Demon Transformation—First Change!" With a roar, Yu Daoyi’s body erupted in a mist of blood. This illusionary body could not withstand the force of transformation, but his blood-red eyes burned unwavering and bright.

He raised his hand, every movement cautious and slow, each gesture drawing blood. In the blink of an eye, the once-whole man was drenched in it.

"Damn it! I don’t believe I can’t even throw a single punch!" he shouted, swinging a fist forward.

Sometimes, people treasure others more than themselves. When those they treasure are taken, the fury and hatred can drive them mad.

It’s a cliché, and it’s foolish, isn’t it?