Image One Hundred and Fifty-Five: Elder Brother or Uncle

Noontime is the quietest time in the desert, devoid of any sound. Under the blazing sun, the sand grains sparkle like diamonds, while hot winds sweeping intermittently from the depths of the desert flatten the sand ridges and shape new ones, slowly altering the desert landscape.

An earthen house, standing for over a decade at the edge of the desert, is perhaps the only unmoving thing in this vast expanse. Its door remains tightly shut, and a brown cloth strip at the corner of the house flutters and rustles in the wind.

Occasionally, the coughing of an elderly person and a child drifts from the larger earthen house. The door to the adjacent room is tightly closed, with only the sound of heavy, labored breathing indicating that someone is inside.

Ye Bai sits cross-legged on the kang. The cigarette ash left on the corner of the nearby table is scattered across the chair legs by a stray breeze slipping in.

"Why is there still nothing?" Ye Bai's eyes are tightly shut, a gurgling sound constantly coming from his throat as his breathing grows extremely erratic.

Ye Bai does not know how he managed to survive, but he knows that without the power of attributes, he will be trapped here for the rest of his life. He wants to go back, and he must go back—back to the Green Forest region, back to Muyang City. This is his promise to Muer.

Time and again, he tries to mobilize the attribute power within his body using his old methods, and time and again, he fails. His body feels entirely hollow; even the fire attribute power, once the most active, is completely imperceptible.

"Is this supposed to mean I am to remain in the desert for the rest of my life, become a desert warrior, and ultimately die in battle on the century-old defense line?"

For a fleeting second, Ye Bai feels the urge to cry out, yet lacks the courage to do so. After all, he is still alive; compared to those who have already perished, he at least possesses the capital to make a comeback.

His Jinghong Saber is nowhere to be found, likely lost within that bizarre spatial rift. This thought sends another sharp pang of grief through his heart. He has witnessed the extraordinary might of the Jinghong Saber on more than one occasion; without it, he doubts whether he can execute the Fire Buddha or unleash the Scorching Heavens.

This is the first time Ye Bai has felt truly defeated, and the first time he has allowed himself to despair—mysteriously thrust into another realm, stripped of his attribute power, and bereft of his Jinghong Saber.

"How does it feel to have lost everything?" Ye Bai sits on the bed, offering a bitter smile as his gaze toward the window slowly hardens. "It is merely starting over from the beginning. Compared to the fallen, I still have life, and I still have strength."

"Brother Ye Bai, can Bao'er come in?" Suddenly, Bao'er's voice sounds from outside, though she omits the prefix "Brother Ye" or "Brother Bai."

"Bao'er, come in."

"Is there something you need, Bao'er?" Ye Bai looks at the young girl, who bears a slight resemblance to his younger sister, feeling a sudden surge of warmth in his chest.

Bao'er shakes her head, climbs onto Ye Bai's kang, and asks, "Where is Brother Ye Bai from? Is it from the outside? Your skin is so white."

"Bao'er heard Papa say that people from the outside have skin as white as yours, not like Grandpa, Papa, and me. I also heard Papa say there are many, many people out there, flying castles, people with tails, and I even heard Papa say..."

The more Bao'er speaks, the more excited she becomes, as if she had witnessed these things firsthand rather than merely hearing about them.

Ye Bai gently strokes Bao'er's hair, just as he used to stroke Mo'er's hair back home, looking at her with a fond indulgence. "You could say that."

Ye Bai does not know whether the "outside" Bao'er refers to is beyond the desert, the Wild Sand region, or the entire Earth. "Why is Bao'er only talking about Grandpa and Papa? Where are the others?"

Bao'er tilts her head, looking at him in confusion. "Others? Aside from Papa and Grandpa, Bao'er has only ever seen Brother."

Ye Bai's hand freezes momentarily before he gently pulls Bao'er into his arms, speaking softly, "Then, would you like Brother to take you outside in the future? Would you like Brother to lead you out of this desert?"

"Muer, Mother is gone... Then would you like Brother to take you out to play in the future? To help Muer find Mother?"

For a fleeting moment, the images of Muer and Bao'er merge seamlessly before Ye Bai's eyes. In that instant, he desires nothing more than to walk out of the desert and take Bao'er to see the wider world.

Bao'er raises her head, looking at him with round, uncomprehending eyes, and nods heavily.

"Bao'er, didn't Grandpa ask you to bring the chair out? It's time." Suddenly, Old Man Sha's voice echoes from outside, carrying a stern tone, as if he is about to undertake a matter of great importance.

"Ah~." Bao'er, nestled in Ye Bai's arms, suddenly blushes, kicks her small legs, and struggles to get down from the kang.

"What is it, Bao'er?" Seeing her frantic reaction, Ye Bai assumes something has happened.

"Papa is coming home today, Bao'er and Grandpa are going to the entrance to wait for him." Standing just over a meter tall, Bao'er tries to lift a chair that is taller than she is.

"Right now? It's still so hot outside."

"Mm. This is a promise between Papa, Grandpa, and me," Bao'er says earnestly, redoubling her efforts to lift the chair, before suddenly feeling her body grow light.

"Let's go together." Ye Bai picks up the chair, smiles at Bao'er, pushes open the door, and steps outside.

Outside, the old man is already squatting in the shade, his long tobacco pipe tapping against the pouch to clear out the old ash, his gaze periodically wandering deep into the desert.

Ye Bai places the chair beside Old Man Sha, while Bao'er trails behind carrying a tiny stool. "Old Man Sha, have a seat."

Old Man Sha shakes his head. "No need. I've spent all these years squatting here; I'm used to it. If you want to sit, go ahead. If you find the heat too oppressive, go back inside."

Ye Bai does not return inside, nor does he sit on the chair. Instead, he squats down in the shade beside the old man, and a thick, rich scent of tobacco drifts into his nostrils.

"Brother Ye Bai, you should sit. Grandpa is stubborn and won't ever sit down," Bao'er says, sitting on her small stool and swinging her legs back and forth. Every time, Bao'er brings out both a large and a small chair—the large one reserved for her grandfather, though she has never once seen him sit in it. Today, just like every other day, her grandfather simply smokes endlessly until her father returns.

"Why wait for Bao'er's father now?" Ye Bai asks a question that has been lingering in his mind. Waiting for Bao'er's father could easily be done in the cooler afternoon hours rather than the scorching peak of noon.

The old man presses down the tobacco in his pipe, lights it with a match, and watches as wisps of blue smoke slowly curl upward, the bowl of the pipe soon glowing with red embers. "Bao'er's father said that whenever he gets leave from the defense line, barring any unforeseen delays, he will return around noon or, at the latest, by evening. I want Bao'er's father to know that someone is always waiting for him, and that he has a home waiting to welcome him back."

The old man speaks slowly, yet every sentence, every word, feels like a needle piercing Ye Bai's heart. Suddenly, Ye Bai thinks of his mother waiting for him at their doorstep when he was a child, and of himself waiting for Muer as he grew older. Perhaps this is what home truly means.

The old man falls silent, and Ye Bai says nothing more. Between them, Bao'er occasionally glances at the two of them before turning her gaze back toward the depths of the desert.

The pile of cigarette ash in front of them gradually grows larger, and the sky begins to cool and darken. The old man lights another pipeful to smoke, though the veins on his weathered hands begin to bulge menacingly.

"Old Man Sha, smoke a little less. Too much is bad for your health." Ye Bai no longer finds the aroma of the tobacco pleasant; instead, it makes him feel slightly dizzy. The sky has grown dim—knowing well that dusk falls much later in the desert than elsewhere, it is already long past evening.

The old man offers no reply, keeping his eyes fixed intently on the depths of the desert, yearning for a single figure to materialize. Bao'er has also fallen quietly silent on her small stool, a growing sense of unease filling her eyes.

Suddenly, a fit of coughing breaks the silence. Bao'er is startled on her small stool, and Ye Bai quickly rushes back inside to fetch a bowl of water for Old Man Sha. When he returns, he notices the pile of cigarette ash on the ground has diminished significantly.

After drinking the water, the old man looks as though he wants to smoke again, but Ye Bai gently presses his hand down and shakes his head.

The old man looks at Ye Bai, sighs softly, and lapses once more into silence.

As time stretches on, the veins on the old man's hands become more prominent, occasionally trembling. Tears slowly well up in Bao'er's eyes; in her memory, her father has never returned this late.

At last, the sun sheds its final ray of brilliance, leaving only a crimson disc suspended at the edge of the desert. There is no poetic beauty of a bloody setting sun; once the light vanishes, the desert plunges into sudden darkness, and the temperature plummets rapidly.

When only half of the sun remains visible, just before complete darkness swallows the landscape, Ye Bai finally spots a human figure.

"He's back." Ye Bai does not dare to speak loudly, yet his words ring like a thunderclap, snapping the other two out of their trance.

The old man's vein-bulged hand instantly clenches into a fist, the deep wrinkles on his face slowly relaxing as his expression returns to normal. He begins to rise, then, as if remembering something, kicks the pile of cigarette ash apart with his foot.

Beside him, Bao'er leaps onto the large chair, peering into the distance like a monkey reaching for the moon, repeatedly asking, "Where is he? Where is he?"

"It will be a moment still before Bao'er can see him," Ye Bai says, pointing toward the dwindling red sun where it meets the desert horizon.

The old man lifts Bao'er from the chair and sits down himself, holding her in his arms, leaving the small stool for Ye Bai.

When the last sliver of the crimson sun vanishes and true night falls, a figure finally steps into view before Old Man Sha and Ye Bai.

"You're back," the old man asks calmly, showing no trace of the tension he harbored moments before.

"Mm." The young man carries heavy packs on his back, looking at the old man. Upon noticing Ye Bai, a flicker of surprise crosses his eyes. "These are this month's provisions, these are the eyes of the ink-armored beetles, and the rest is the tobacco you like."

The man unloads the packs one by one, explaining each item to the old man before finally picking up Bao'er from the old man's lap. "Bao'er, haven't I told you before that Grandpa is old and needs to be taken care of? Why are you still sitting in Grandpa's lap?"

Only then does the young man direct his gaze toward Ye Bai, asking the old man with a hint of caution, "Who is this?"

Ye Bai offers a slight smile and introduces himself, "I am Ye Bai. Old Man Sha saved my life."

"Saved your life?" The man looks at the old man, who nods in confirmation.

"Never mind. I still have matters to attend to upon this return; we can discuss this tomorrow. A few days ago, the defense line was breached by insects, and some have crossed over into the desert. We need to hunt them down over the next few nights."

Instantly, the aura of an early-stage elite washes over Ye Bai. He takes a few steps back, though his expression remains unchanged.

"Bao'er, say goodbye to Papa."

"Take me with you," Ye Bai suddenly says.

The man casts a glance at Ye Bai, then continues, "Bao'er, say goodbye to Papa and Uncle."