The Weight of a Lie

This marked the fourth day of their arduous journey through the wilderness. Still, they had yet to encounter a single living soul, though the sight of the dead had become disturbingly common.

By now, they were utterly convinced this was a different world. The corpses of goblins and demi-humans—creatures impossible to find on Earth—served as undeniable proof.

The bodies varied wildly, their deaths numerous and gruesome. Some were dismembered, others corroded by acid, a stark reminder that danger lurked everywhere.

Having grown accustomed to such sights, Tang Wenxu no longer felt the urge to vomit. Now, seeing a corpse stirred not even a ripple in his heart.

He ought to have been a pampered city young master, crying out for his parents after only a few steps. Yet, he was not. The countless bodies had taught him his first crucial lesson: before death, all are equal, be they human or goblin.

He had never once complained of fatigue. Kuroki Nao knew her master’s constitution intimately; his physical fitness was almost nonexistent. He was the kind of person who could trip on flat ground and never finish a long-distance run, yet in these past few days, he had never once suggested resting.

She understood that his body had reached its limits and that he was enduring, feigning strength. However, she also knew that challenging one’s limits was the secret to building a stronger body. Though a pang of heartache struck Kuroki Nao, it was overshadowed by joy.

On one hand, they could spend the entire day together; on the other, she witnessed her master’s transformation. He was no longer a spoiled young master but was growing into a man.

Regarding food, they did not adhere to the “if it’s headless, it’s edible” philosophy, unsure if the strange creatures might be poisonous. This pickiness, however, meant their food supply was severely limited, consisting mainly of berries foraged along their path.

At midday, they passed a river. To improve her master’s meal, she spent half a day fishing, finally catching a medium-sized fish.

Tang Wenxu had not eaten in a long time, but when the fish soup was ready, he merely said, “I’m not hungry, but I am a little thirsty.”

He then downed the bowl of fish soup in one gulp. Kuroki Nao, reluctant to eat the fish herself, eventually watched the leftovers spoil, returning to the embrace of Mother Earth.

Night fell, and heavy rain poured, drenching both master and servant. Fortunately, a cave offered them shelter. They lit a bonfire and made a simple bed of dry grass.

“Sleep,” Tang Wenxu said. “We still have a long way to go tomorrow. We must find a village quickly.”

“Mm.”

They lay down, backs against each other, in silence.

Around dawn, the thunder and lightning raged on, showing no signs of stopping.

“Are you asleep?” Tang Wenxu asked.

“No.”

“Can’t sleep?”

“…”

Last night, Kuroki Nao had been startled awake by a strange sound. She had seen with her own eyes her master pulling up wild grass and eating it. She hated her own helplessness, and ever since, she had been unable to find peaceful sleep.

Tang Wenxu, thinking Kuroki Nao was afraid of something, offered reassurance. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. Get some sleep. I’ll protect you.”

“Idiot.”

He was somewhat bewildered by the sudden insult.

There was something on his mind, and after a moment’s thought, he decided to voice it.

“By the way, can I ask you a question?”

“Mm.”

“After we safely leave this place, will you leave me? After all, I’m penniless now and can’t pay your salary.”

‘Should I speak of that matter?’ Kuroki Nao wondered whether to tell him, but decided against it.

Tang Wenxu, assuming that the mention of worldly matters had displeased Kuroki Nao, asked, “Are you angry?”

“You guess?”

“I guess you’re not angry. Go to sleep.” Tang Wenxu turned over, pretending to be asleep.

That incident had always weighed heavily on her heart.

Three years prior, on the seventh day after Tang Wenxu’s mother’s death, the night had also been filled with thunder and rain.

Tang Wenxu had always believed his father never returned after his mother’s passing. This was not true. On the night of his mother’s seventh-day memorial, the man had returned. Tang Wenxu, then sleeping in his second-floor bedroom, had been so exhausted from sleepless nights grieving his mother that he had fallen into a deep slumber, missing his final encounter with his father.

His father looked haggard. He placed a briefcase on the table, across from where Kuroki Nao sat. Opening the briefcase, he revealed it was stuffed with bundles upon bundles of US dollars.

“You’ve worked hard all these years. This money is your final salary; I won’t be coming back after this.” The man’s face was devoid of expression, his voice utterly emotionless, like a robot.

He stood up, handed her a leather bag, and said, “Give this to him tomorrow.” Then, he turned and walked towards the front door.

Just as he was about to leave, Kuroki Nao called out to him.

“Wait! Aren’t you taking your son with you?”

“No. He is that woman’s child, and the family believes he has no value for cultivation.” He pulled a document from the leather bag, on which was boldly written: Agreement for the Severance of Father-Son Relationship.

“You’re abandoning him?” Kuroki Nao asked flatly.

“This is a good villa, well-located, and will surely appreciate in value in the future. I already transferred the property title to his name a few days ago. Even without a father, this child will have enough to live a simple life.”

“Answer my question.” She spoke each word distinctly.

“I tried my best to secure this house for him. The family didn’t even want to give him this villa.” The man finished, lit a cigarette, and sighed deeply.

“You are truly a repulsive person.”

“I am merely an ordinary man from a prestigious family. In a year, I will marry a woman from another prominent family. Regardless of her appearance or character, I have no right to choose.” He took a harsh drag from his cigarette, then looked at the black-and-white photograph of the stunning woman. “Ordinary people born into prominent families cannot change their destiny.”

“Are you saying this to ease your conscience?” Kuroki Nao asked with disdain.

“No, I am already dead. How can I speak of conscience? The one sitting here now is merely a walking corpse, obeying the family’s commands. I loved her, but my family did not. I refused to divorce her, and then she died. In truth, I should have known, and she should have known much earlier… But, alas…”

Kuroki Nao understood. The lady’s death was likely orchestrated by the Tang family. The severance of the father-son relationship might have been the man’s way of protecting his son, as there were many ways to make an unnatural death appear natural.

However, seeing the man’s dejected state, her anger flared. When faced with problems, he only considered how to evade them, not how to solve them.

“Do you even deserve to say you loved her? You’re abandoning your child like this.”

“Of course, I don’t deserve it. At the end of the funeral, I wanted to tell her ‘I love you’ one last time, but I couldn’t. The words wouldn’t come out. Because I don’t deserve to…”

The man gave a self-deprecating, ugly laugh.

“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to him before you leave?” Kuroki Nao pointed upstairs. She no longer wanted to refer to the master she served as “your son,” feeling it was a great insult to her gentle master and his deceased mother.

“No, I can’t bring myself to say goodbye.”

“Yes, it’s best not to say goodbye. He is still very pure, like a blank sheet of paper. It’s better for you to have no further connection, lest he be stained with your repulsive colors.”

“Do you think if he knew the truth… do you think he would hate me?”

“The noblest revenge is forgiveness. He is a good child, kinder than anyone.”

The man remained silent for a long time, exhaling a smoke ring.

“How pathetic. As that child’s father, I know less about him than his maid.”

“Yes, it is quite pathetic.”

She only hoped her master would not live a life as pathetic as this man’s.

The man took a piece of paper and a bank card from his leather bag and placed them on the coffee table.

“Tomorrow, give him the property deed and the card, and then you can leave. It’s been hard on you, such an excellent assassin, to be a bodyguard all these years.”

“Leave? Go where? I’ll stay right here. As long as he’s here for one day, I’m not going anywhere. You all don’t want him, but I do!”

The man was silent for a long time before uttering two words.

“Thank you.”

A clap of thunder echoed across the sky.

The instant those words left his lips, Kuroki Nao’s killing intent erupted. For the first time, she felt such profound rage. A kunai stopped less than a millimeter from his throat, leaving a shallow cut on his neck. Had it been a fraction closer, the man would surely have died.

“Dare to say ‘thank you’ again and I’ll kill you!” Nao said coldly. Then, she suddenly realized something and smiled. “Don’t try to provoke me; it’s useless. I won’t kill you.”

Kuroki Nao had seen through the man’s intentions. He wanted to die; he had lived long enough. He was attempting to defile her and Tang Wenxu’s pure relationship to provoke the assassin, seeking a legitimate reason to die at someone else’s hand.

“Live. Live with your shame, now get out!”

The man, exposed, gave an awkward laugh. He gazed for a moment at the portrait of the woman who had once captivated him, her black-and-white smiling face still alluring. He cut a lock of his own hair, lit it before the portrait, and mixed it with the incense ash.

“Goodbye.”

The man’s figure vanished into the night, never to return. Perhaps he truly had died.

‘Is this good?’ Kuroki Nao asked herself. On closer reflection, there was nothing bad about it. Wouldn’t it allow her to live a happy life together with her master?

She silently resolved to serve Tang Wenxu forever, until she turned to dust. No, even if she became dust, she would protect him.

She rarely lied to Tang Wenxu, but whenever she saw his pure eyes, she simply couldn’t bring herself to say, “Your father abandoned you.” In such moments, she could only awkwardly use the excuse, “Your father is busy with work,” to deflect.

She couldn’t bear for her master to rent out the villa; it was his last memory with his mother. Nor could she bear to tell him the truth. To maintain this lie, she needed money, so she used the money she had earned from assassinations to establish a seemingly legitimate company. Through the internet, she earned the daily expenses her master needed, took care of his daily life, and occasionally cleaned like a servant.

Tang Wenxu had always believed he lived off his father’s money, which made him, unaware of the truth, harbor a trace of affection for his father. The truth was, all that money was earned by a fifteen-year-old girl, two years his junior.

Though sometimes Kuroki Nao wondered what expression Tang Wenxu would make if he learned he was being supported by a girl two years younger than him, she ultimately decided against it. She only wished to always wear the mask of a humble servant in front of her master. Standing forever behind him was the greatest happiness for the young girl.

As long as the lie was perfectly maintained, no one could expose it.

The rain had stopped, and the sky gradually brightened.

“I will protect you forever, you know.”

“Hmph, zzzzz.”

Kuroki Nao poked Tang Wenxu’s sleeping face, a loving smile as gentle as a goddess gracing her lips.