Bring Me Back to Them

Hao Nhien did not know how much time had passed before he regained consciousness.

The first sensation to return was neither light nor sound, but the cold of the stone floor seeping through his clothes and into his body. A dull ache in his Sea of Consciousness followed, making him frown. His Divine Soul felt so exhausted that even simple thoughts moved more slowly than usual, while more than half the true qi in his dantian had already been consumed.

He opened his eyes.

The Python King’s cavern remained as dim as before. Minerals embedded in the walls gave off a pale blue glow that reflected across the damp stone floor. The characteristic bloody scent of the demonic serpent still lingered in the air, but the oppressive cold aura that had previously filled the chamber had weakened considerably.

Someone was sitting nearby.

Quan Nha leaned against a large stone not far from him. Her long hair was still slightly disheveled, and her clothes remained stained with dust and dried blood. Her complexion was pale, but her eyes had regained their clarity.

She was watching him.

Hao Nhien had no idea how long she had been sitting there. Yet the moment he opened his eyes, he had the strange impression that her gaze had been resting on him for a very long time.

Neither spoke for a while.

Eventually, he moved his lips.

“You’re awake?”

The instant the words left his mouth, Hao Nhien realized something was wrong with the question.

He was clearly the one who had just awakened.

Quan Nha watched him for another moment before replying,

“That is what I should be asking you.”

Hao Nhien fell silent.

He planted one hand against the ground and tried to sit up, but the moment he moved, pain flared through his Sea of Consciousness and his body lost balance.

Quan Nha reached out on instinct.

Her movement was quick, yet as soon as her fingertips touched his arm, she slowed, as though afraid that using even slightly more force might hurt him.

Hao Nhien leaned back against the stone wall and steadied his breathing.

“How long was I unconscious?”

“Nearly a day.”

His brow furrowed.

“That long?”

“You should sleep for several more.”

Her voice remained calm, but Hao Nhien could still hear a trace of anger beneath it.

He turned toward her.

“Are you scolding me?”

Quan Nha met his gaze directly.

“I’m trying not to.”

He stared at her for a moment before a quiet laugh escaped him, only for the pain in his head to twist the expression almost immediately.

Her eyes shifted at the sight, but her tone stayed cool.

“You deserve it.”

Some of the lingering tension within the cavern finally eased.

After adjusting himself into a more comfortable position, Hao Nhien asked,

“What exactly happened over the past few days?”

The brief lightness between them disappeared.

Quan Nha lowered her gaze to her hands. Several wounds remained on her fingertips, likely from gripping the stone too hard while resisting the influence that had taken hold of her.

A long while passed before she answered.

“I think you’ve already guessed part of it.”

She paused.

“What I found in the Python King’s territory is connected to the Great Python God.”

Hao Nhien did not interrupt.

“After coming into contact with it, I realized that Charm affinity is not merely an innate talent or a method of using the Divine Soul. There was a very deep imprint within the inheritance.” Her eyes lowered toward the stone. “At first, it was almost impossible to notice. There were only a few distant whispers and emotions that became stronger than they should have been. Hatred, unease, possessiveness, the fear of losing something important... I thought it was simply backlash from absorbing an inheritance that was too powerful.”

Her voice slowed.

“Then I started losing the ability to tell which emotions were actually mine.”

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Hao Nhien understood that feeling very well.

He had just experienced part of it himself.

Quan Nha continued,

“I could still absorb what was inside the inheritance, but the deeper I went, the easier it became for the imprint to slip into the process. It did not begin by forcing me to perform a specific action. It made one thought stronger, then kept pushing the emotions surrounding that thought until I began to believe the choice had always been my own.”

She remained quiet for a moment.

“I could still resist.”

That much Hao Nhien had already seen.

Otherwise, she would never have been able to separate the useful parts of the inheritance from the darker intent just now.

“But when I returned close to where we were supposed to meet, I sensed you.”

Hao Nhien looked at her.

Quan Nha raised her eyes as well.

“Or more precisely, the thing inside me sensed the Spirit Wings.”

His expression changed slightly.

“It recognized Garuda’s aura.”

Cold air moved through a crack in the cavern, carrying a faint whistle.

“It wanted me to approach you,” Quan Nha said. “It wanted me to make you lower your guard, then find a way to destroy the Spirit Wings and the trace of Garuda they carry.”

Her fingers tightened slightly.

“It also wanted to use me to reach deeper into your Divine Soul.”

Quan Nha did not say what she had seen there.

Hao Nhien did not ask.

Some things did not need to be spoken aloud.

She lowered her gaze again.

“That was when I became truly afraid.”

He waited quietly for her to continue.

“I once hated the people who used my parents to uncover the Quan Family’s secrets. I hated them for turning the people they cared about into tools.” A faint smile appeared on her lips, but there was no humor in it. “Then one day I discovered that I was being turned into the same kind of thing.”

She stopped.

“If I returned to you, if I called your name and you did not guard against me...”

There was no need to finish.

They both understood.

Hao Nhien probably would not have guarded against her.

Because the person returning was Quan Nha.

Because he had been waiting for her.

“So you left instead?” he asked.

She nodded.

“I didn’t dare see you. At first, I only wanted to get as far away as possible, but the more I resisted, the stronger the imprint became. Then I thought of the Python King’s lair. If the source of the inheritance was connected to this place, I thought there might be something here that could suppress it, or help me understand how to separate it.”

A tired smile crossed her face.

“I was wrong.”

“This place made it stronger?”

“Yes.”

Hao Nhien said nothing.

Quan Nha spoke calmly, but the traces he had followed on the mountain were enough to fill in everything she left unsaid.

She had traveled alone through the mountains while drifting in and out of clarity, repeatedly changing direction, losing blood, and still forcing herself away from the place where they had agreed to meet.

She continued,

“There were times when I wanted to return and warn you. At other times, I only wanted to go somewhere far away. But every time I thought about seeing you, the imprint reacted more strongly. In the end, I could only force myself not to think about it at all.”

Hao Nhien slowly breathed out.

“I found your blood and a piece of your robe on the way here.”

Quan Nha fell silent.

His eyes moved toward her injured fingertips.

“You were exhausted.”

After a moment, she answered,

“Yes.”

There was no excuse.

No attempt to preserve her usual pride.

Only a quiet admission.

Hao Nhien watched her for a little longer but said nothing else.

Quan Nha was the one who broke the silence.

“I saw part of what happened while our consciousnesses were connected.”

He paused.

She looked directly at him.

“I saw the Spirit Sword.”

Hao Nhien remained silent.

“I also saw that it could have struck.”

Her tone gradually grew colder.

“You knew the thing affecting me carried killing intent. You knew that if it continued, both of us could have been in danger. If the Spirit Sword struck the right place, perhaps everything would have ended far more quickly.”

She paused.

“And you held it back.”

Hao Nhien answered calmly.

“Because you were in there.”

Quan Nha’s fingers tightened.

After a long moment, she said,

“That is why you’re an idiot.”

He looked at her.

It sounded as though she had been holding those words back for quite some time.

“You still want revenge. You want to uncover the secrets connected to yourself. You want to become stronger, and you want to protect the people beside you. If every time something happens you gamble your life on it, how long do you think you’ll survive?”

Hao Nhien did not argue.

His silence seemed to make her even more irritated.

“What if you had failed yesterday? What if that imprint had corroded your Divine Soul? What if the Spirit Sword eventually had no chance to save you?”

Her voice grew quieter, but each question carried more weight than the last.

“What if you die before you accomplish any of the things you want to do? What will you use to take revenge then? What will you use to find the answers you’re searching for? What will you use to protect Tieu Lan?”

Quan Nha stopped abruptly.

Another sentence had clearly reached her lips, but she did not say it.

Hao Nhien still understood.

The questions tightened something in his chest.

He had asked himself similar things before. Perhaps he could never guarantee that he would save every person he cared about. But when someone standing before him still had a chance, he could not abandon them simply because another choice would be safer for himself.

After a long silence, Hao Nhien asked,

“What if our positions were reversed?”

Quan Nha froze slightly.

She had clearly not expected the question.

Pale blue light from the minerals fell across her face. She watched him for some time before answering.

“If there were another way, I would find it.”

“And if there wasn’t?”

This time, she did not answer immediately.

Her gaze lowered. The fingers resting on her knee tightened, then slowly relaxed.

At last, her voice came softly.

“If only one of us could live, you would have to be the one.”

Hao Nhien said nothing.

Quan Nha continued looking at the cold stone floor.

“If that truly happened, live long enough to find my parents.”

She paused.

Her breath trembled faintly.

“Then... bring me back to them.”

Hao Nhien looked at her.

Something difficult to describe touched a deep place within him.

The words had been spoken quietly, but he understood what she had just entrusted to him.

It was more than a request.

If that day ever truly came, she wanted him to walk the part of the road she could no longer walk, find her parents, and bring her home to them.

Hao Nhien remained silent for a long time before finally asking,

“Why do you trust me that much?”

Quan Nha raised her head.

There was no Charm intent in her eyes now, no trace of the earlier darkness. Even her usual pride seemed to have receded after days of exhaustion, leaving only a calm and sincere gaze.

“Because I believe you can do it.”

She paused, and the faintest smile touched her lips.

“And if it concerns me, I believe you won’t simply walk away.”

Hao Nhien looked at her and, for once, found no easy reply.

Several answers reached his lips before he let them fade without speaking.

In the end, he only exhaled quietly.

Only now did Hao Nhien begin to understand why Quan Nha had called him an idiot.

From her perspective, perhaps what he had done the previous day truly had been foolish.

But if time turned back, he still was not certain he would choose differently.

Cold wind continued moving through the deep cracks of the cavern. Pale blue light reflected across both their faces, while the chaotic aura that had once filled the chamber had nearly settled.

Hao Nhien did not know what effects the imprint Quan Nha had forced deep within her Divine Soul might leave in the future.

But at least for now, the person sitting before him was still Quan Nha.