Chapter 38: Communicate Well, No Fighting Without Cause - I Forged Them in Darkness, and They Buried Me in It

**Chapter 38: Communicate Well, No Fighting Without Cause** With Qin Shou's departure, only Chen An and Chen Xi remained in the small yard of the orphanage. Chen Xi was lost in thought. Chen An was watching her in her daze. After a while, faint cries of distress drifted in. This was followed by a series of hurried footsteps. Chen Xi's empty eyes blinked, then she waved her hand in the air a few times. Chen An understood, taking her hand. Her lips moved slightly, without emitting a sound, but Chen An knew what she was asking. She was asking, what happened? Chen An replied, "It seems like there's a group filming a movie outside." "Filming?" "Yes, filming." The girl looked skeptical, "Has filming become this noisy nowadays?" "Perhaps the actors are quite dedicated. If it's not realistic enough, they feel uneasy." Maybe this explanation was convincing enough, as Chen Xi nodded, dropping the subject. Yet, she still furrowed her brows, "They're so noisy." The chaotic noises outside undoubtedly disturbed the precious time she shared alone with Chen An. This made her a bit unhappy. Chen An thought for a moment, picked up a stick from the ground that seemed reliable, and then stood up. He looked at the girl's smooth hair and suddenly reached out to mess it into a wild bird’s nest. "Wait for me a moment, I'll go make them quiet." The girl didn't respond, just took a small wooden comb from under her skirt and quietly began to tidy her long hair. Brother An loved to tease people like this abruptly. When she was even more introverted as a child, he often bullied her in this way. As she grew up, she got used to it, not even bothering to complain anymore. After all, saying something didn’t change anything. Chen An turned and walked toward the orphanage gate. From behind came the girl’s reminder. "Brother An, communicate well. Don't just fight with people casually." Chen An paused for a moment and replied with a "Sure." ... ... "Run!" "Quick, run!" This was the singular thought running through the minds of those still capable of movement. Their bodies were not entirely intact: either exposed arms or whole legs were being gnawed at by those strange bloody hands. Except for Zheng Qing and Lin Jingqiu. Around them lingered a thin green shield, which was the only thing preventing the bloody hands from attacking. But this wasn't a long-term solution. Zheng Qing, who was responsible for maintaining the spell, was beginning to feel the rapid depletion of his spiritual energy. In less than three minutes, they'd end up like the others, being mercilessly devoured completely. Luckily, the evil cultivator appeared to be letting them go intentionally, merely trailing them at a leisurely pace without employing further means to stop them. During this time, Wang Que and others tried shooting, but the results were negligible at best. It just slightly slowed the evil cultivator’s pace. The notion of injuring him with firearms was purely wishful thinking. They were like beings from different dimensions with an insurmountable chasm between them. Suddenly, the girl running cried out in alarm, already frightened to the point of wobbly legs, and now she stumbled and fell directly to the ground. Clutching her skinned knee, sharp pain surged relentlessly. Even worse, she appeared to have twisted her ankle, unable to move for the moment. Zheng Qing cursed silently and quickly stopped, returning to Lin Jingqiu’s side. But even in that brief delay, the blood hands following closely had already arrived, their dense, horrifying jaws looming. Zheng Qing formed a spell with his hands, and a towering tree materialized, reinforcing the green barrier around them. Shielding them from the bizarre and horrifying blood hands. Others, seeing this, ran even faster. There was no thought of lending a hand. In the face of life and death, who cares for the fate of others? Only the burly Zhang Yong had a moment's flash of fierceness in his eyes. He turned sharply, intending to help Zheng Qing and Lin Jingqiu, but in a split second, countless blood hands moved as if attached to him, grasping at his ankles. Zhang Yong felt his scalp tingle, and his previously mustered courage dissipated entirely. He resumed his rush toward the orphanage. After all, compared to the hellish scene they were fleeing, the orphanage stood quietly like the world’s only sanctuary. As Zheng Qing looked at Zhang Yong’s retreating figure amidst the pull and grasp of blood hands, a sense of bitterness filled her heart, and despair clouded her eyes. She didn’t blame Zhang Yong or any of the others for not helping. At such times, everyone was struggling to save themselves, barely able to keep afloat; who had the capacity to help? Moreover, being ordinary people, they had no means to counter these bizarre blood hands. "Sister, don't mind me, you must go." The young girl sat on the ground, eyes brimming with tears, rubbing them despairingly. She silently chastised herself for getting involved, potentially costing her life for nothing. Wah wah wah. If only she hadn't gotten involved with Chen An; now she hadn't even seen him, yet here she was, about to meet her untimely end ... And maybe Chen An wasn't even in the orphanage, probably off somewhere enjoying himself... Lin Jingqiu’s nose scrunched up in distress; though more mature than her peers, she was still a young girl in bloom. Confronted with such a scene, she was long overwhelmed with fright. Zheng Qing was much calmer; though aware the situation wasn’t favorable, she tried to comfort her, "Xiao Qiu, don’t worry; the disturbance this evil cultivator caused surely hasn’t escaped the master's attention." "And you can harness spiritual power too. If we take turns activating this protective artifact, we might survive until the master arrives." ... ... Meanwhile, Wang Que and the others continued their escape. Fortunately, the orphanage was close to the convenience store, and they were on the verge of entering it. But would escaping into the orphanage help? Wang Que dared not ponder the answer, unwilling to fully consider it. Fear gripped everyone’s hearts, stifling calm thought, leaving them no choice but to run for their lives. Even when knowing this was a trap set by the evil cultivator, they had to grit their teeth and move forward. Otherwise, just the thick, fetid hands alone could consume them utterly. The fleeing group halted at the orphanage entrance. For at the gate stood a peculiar youth holding a wooden stick. The stick was crooked, charred, and blackened, as if casually picked from a hearth. Leaning against the doorway, his expression was serene, gazing up at the blood-red sky. Behind him, the old iron gate lay wide open. (End of Chapter)