National Guardian's Gone and We're Done

"Will you ever shut up!?"

The girl was like a lit stick of dynamite, instantly seething with rage and utterly infuriated.

It was as if two burning flames danced furiously in her eyes,

as she glared holes through Chu He,

her gaze filled with blazing resentment and a deep sense of grievance.

At that moment, her brother lay miserably on the cold, hard ground.

Blood flowed freely, like an out-of-control stream,

pooling into a gruesome and shocking puddle.

The jarring red looked particularly ghastly under the sun.

And yet this Mr. Chu turned a blind eye to the tragic scene before him,

still rambling on and on, his words seemingly laced with a hint of humiliation.

A strong suspicion welled up in the girl’s heart.

She even began to wonder

if Chu He was secretly colluding with those people from the White-Red Empire—the ones scheming in the shadows to cause trouble for her family—

and had deliberately shown up now just to kick them while they were down.

Zheng Bolan clutched his still-bleeding wound with a trembling hand.

His face was ashen, pale as the first snow of winter.

It was hard to tell if it was because the agonizing wound was mercilessly tormenting his body,

or if Chu He’s razor-sharp words had truly pierced the depths of his heart,

striking his most hidden fears.

Zheng Bolan pressed his colorless lips together tightly, his body trembling slightly as he remained silent.

In truth, Zheng Bolan had always had an indescribable, strange feeling about the project his family had suddenly taken on.

This was far beyond what could be described as a simple "pie in the sky."

It was as if a towering, gleaming mountain of gold had come crashing down from the vast, boundless heavens—

a mountain whose weight and pressure

were more than enough to completely crush their second-rate land development company.

It was just that his parents had been swept up by this sudden, dreamlike windfall,

lost in a near-frenzied celebration.

They were completely absorbed in daydreams of a glorious return home after the project’s successful completion,

of holding their heads high and earning fame and success in their homeland within the Great Xia Empire.

However, they hadn’t lost their senses completely.

They knew full well that to complete this project smoothly,

they would inevitably face countless difficulties and obstacles.

So they had been doing everything in their power to prepare,

trying to devise countermeasures in advance for all kinds of potential crises.

However, Zheng Bolan never imagined

that their opponents would be so vicious.

On their very first move, they had mercilessly plunged a sharp dagger into his body.

At this rate, he feared the next time they would actually take his life.

This filled his heart with terror and despair.

"Aren’t you leaving yet?"

The girl glared, her eyes red-rimmed with anger and sorrow.

Like an enraged lioness, she stared at Chu He, her gaze filled with disgust and hatred.

But Chu He seemed oblivious to the girl’s fury and revulsion.

"Are you here to help me?"

Zheng Bolan asked, his voice so weak it was barely audible.

"If you’re willing."

Chu He said calmly, "Even if you’re not, if this matter is the purpose of my trip to the White-Red Empire, I will involve myself by force.

If it weren’t for the fact that you’re from the Great Xia Empire, I wouldn’t be here wasting my breath on you."

Zheng Bolan’s eyelids twitched violently.

He had a strong premonition

that Chu He’s identity was perhaps far more powerful than anything he had imagined or guessed.

That mysterious and powerful aura enveloped him completely,

making him feel an intangible pressure and a profound sense of awe.

"But I’m injured. I need to go to the hospital,"

Zheng Bolan said helplessly.

Chu He nodded in satisfaction. Zheng Bolan’s meaning was already clear: he was willing to cooperate.

And so, Chu He raised his hand slightly, curling his long, slender fingers.

Then, with a gentle flick, a thread-like ray of soft, milky-white light

shot through the air like a nimble elf,

landing precisely on Zheng Bolan’s body.

Instantly, Zheng Bolan felt the spot on his lower back—where the searing, tearing pain of the wound had been—

begin to give off a strange, warm, and itchy sensation.

The heart-piercing pain receded as quickly as a surging tide,

replaced by a pleasant warmth like the spring sun.

In less than two short seconds, Zheng Bolan discovered to his amazement

that the pain from the wound had vanished completely, as if it had never been there at all.

His eyes widened in shock, his face a mask of disbelief.

He slowly reached out, his hand trembling with hesitation, and gently touched his waist.

When his fingers touched the place where the wound had been,

he confirmed that the injury on his waist had truly and completely healed.

Zheng Bolan’s eyes went wide as saucers, his heart filled with shock and doubt. He hesitated for a moment,

then mustered his courage and carefully felt the injured spot again and again.

He finally confirmed that the wound had, in fact, healed completely.

Not even the slightest scar remained.

It was as if the gruesome stabbing had been nothing but a nightmare, and now, upon waking, everything was back to normal.

Zheng Bolan’s expression froze as if he’d been hit by an Immobilization Spell,