Chapter 9

Lifting his head, Hayden stared into the realm above the thick layers of grayish clouds. His sorrowful hazel-brown eyes poured out layers of bitterness that nobody understood.

2019. It had been eighteen years ever since they parted ways. Back in Ring of Deity, he remembered how it ached his heart, watching his pal begging Qilong to let him go...

"I… I can't do this anymore, Qilong. I-I can't do this anymore..." Ye Xuan knelt and fixed his dejected gaze on the ground.

Qilong's silk robe brushed past his trembling arm.

"Get up, Ye Xuan," he commanded, turning away. "You know you can't escape from this. His Majesty wouldn't allow it."

"O-One… one by one sent to me." He gulped the sour lump down his throat. "One by one vanished also because of me."

There was a hint of disdain in his voice as he glanced over at the iced cuboids hanging deep in the wall. He hated himself for failing to bring them back alive.

"Everybody wants a happy ending…" Qilong's eyes drifted to the round window ensconced in twirling silver vines, settling on the deserted fountain outside.

The water was forming the shape of the late white dragon. Distorted, but the formation was there. It took him a whole lot of effort to stop Long Shen from abolishing it. Outstretching his hand, he traced the shape from afar. So affectionate, as if it was the real dragon that he was caressing. 

"But not everyone is lucky enough to have one," he muttered.

"I'm not asking for any happy endings! I don't need them!” Ye Xuan yelled. "I… I just want to quit."

"Ye Xuan." His voice turned hard, and the instant drop in his tone dimmed the divine smoke emanating from the silver fronds. "Do you really think you can quit? We all know deep down, whether TinXi or dragon, we can never quit." Qilong helped him up. "This is the oath we live by.”

A streak of reflected light pulled Hayden back from dwelling further on the past. He glanced at the old metal board hanging miserably at the mailbox—only 'Residence' was written. The name before had been smeared and scratched more than once.

'Tired of changing?' Hayden thought.

Standing in front of the quaint mansion next to the abandoned resort, he shoved the wild bushes aside, searching for the doorbell to ring.

"Yes?" It came from the mini camera fixed to the side of the bricked wall.

"Good day, I'm Hayden Watson, and I would like to have a talk with Mr. Ye—" He cleared his throat and continued, "I mean, Mr. Beck Vincent. Is he at home?" 

Right after he finished speaking, the latch clicked, and the iron gate folded inward. It was as if his presence was expected. A new-looking lady, who seemed to be in her mid-40s, appeared with a slight smile on her face. She looked well put together despite being dressed entirely in black.

With a bow, the lady stretched out her arm. “Please come in, sir."

Hayden nodded and followed behind her, walking along the stone pathway exposed under the vast blue sky. Wild grasses tickled his bare toes, while the gentle rustle of blinds whispered in his ears. It felt exactly like eighteen years ago, only that those greens had yet to be trimmed, and he had to make every step wider so they wouldn't get stuck in his brown flip-flops.

"Here, Mr. Vincent is inside." The lady paused at the last stone. "Please go ahead. I'll not be seeing you in."

It was a rule set by Ye Xuan, a.k.a Beck Vincent, his alias in this world. No servant could go beyond where she stopped without his permission.

“Thanks,” he said and immediately looked away, just in time for her to miss the flicker of blue that crossed his eyes.

When the man sitting on the couch heard the noise, he looked toward the entrance. Upon seeing who it was, he frowned.

But Hayden was so not backing away.

Stepping into the barrier invisible to the mortals, he greeted him, "Hey, friend."

"Hey." It was all the pal said as he drifted his gaze back to his cup of tea.

"You've got nothing to say?" Hayden asked directly, walking down the three-step stairs.

The pathetic prosthetic hand kept at the side of the wall caught his attention for a moment. It was almost obscured by the layers of cobwebs. 

"What else should I say when you know about it already?" Beck flipped the newspaper over to hide what he was reading. His empty sleeve swayed. 

Hayden slapped hard on the target page. "And you plan to do nothing at all?" He stared at the articles talking about the recent mysterious deaths. "Again?"

Beck flashed him a glare. "I told you I quit."

"I hope you do understand that avoiding and quitting are two different things," Hayden hissed, challenging Beck's aloofness. 

And it surprisingly worked.

"Hayden—"

"Beck, please." He crouched to meet his devastating gaze. 

“My friend…” His sigh was heavy. "You know it. If there were something I could do, I wouldn't have lost my limb," he said, pointing to the black and white images of the victims, "and they wouldn't be dead. You just won’t understand."

"I do."

"NO, YOU DON'T!"

"I DO! I'M A TINXI TOO!" Hayden grabbed his shoulders and screamed back at him. "Listen here, Beck. Trust me, we can stop them. We can do it this time. The dragon, her mark is different—"

"Stop telling me about dragons! I'd rather not know," he said, finishing the remaining tea, "than to lose."

That set Hayden off. Without saying another word, he snapped his fingers, and a blue radiance appeared hovering on top of them. It swirled with an increasing intensity before piercing into his skin.

Soon, his flesh began to burn. Hayden clenched his fist, sweat trickling down his chin. Despite the searing pain coursing through his veins, he gritted his teeth and watched the ray continued to stream toward his shoulder.

"What the heck are you doing, Hayden Watson?!” Beck quickly waved his hand and brushed off the glow before it could do any harm. "Are you dumb?"

“If I can gain back your trust, I don't mind losing one arm."

“Even with the dragons, you know we can't win against the evils, against Arlyaen. You know it better and deeper than I do, Hayden. They're getting stronger, and we're getting weaker. Haven't you learned? If mortals still choose to doubt the existence of dragons, if they still have curiosities lingering in their breaths, we'll never win.

"It'll be different this time."

"It'll be the same."

"No, it won't."

"It'll still be the same!"

"Trust me, Beck. it's going to be different."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because the first step to win is to be sure of what you're doing. Right now, I need you to check something."