Chapter Forty-Four: The Snowblade Revealed

Tang Fei and Little Fatty entered the house, each carrying two pulse rifles. Little Fatty looked at the guns with envy and said, “Bro, can I have one?”

Tang Fei glanced at him and replied, “What for? Are you planning to shoot rocks with it? Though, I suppose that would be a lot faster…”

As he spoke, he handed one of the pulse rifles to Little Fatty. He had always included one for him in his plan.

“Thanks, Big Bro!” Little Fatty accepted the gun with delight, immediately eager to pull the trigger.

Tang Fei jumped in alarm and quickly grabbed his arm. “This thing is extremely powerful. It doesn’t fire ordinary bullets, but condensed energy blocks. You saw what happened when I tested it—don’t ever fire it indoors.”

“Then I’ll go outside to try it,” Little Fatty suggested.

“That won’t do either,” Tang Fei stopped him. “One shot and you’ll blow a hole right through the courtyard wall.”

“How about at the gate?” Like any child with a new toy, Little Fatty’s first thought was to try it out, and his second was to show it off to his friends.

He was already picturing himself showing off the pulse rifle to Skinny Monkey.

Tang Fei gave him a sharp flick on the head. “Are you in such a hurry to waste ammo? The pulse rifle’s energy is limited. Once you use it up, there’s no replacement. You should save something this precious for when your life is at stake.”

“Oh.” Little Fatty nodded, disappointed.

Having a gun and not showing it off felt like wearing fine clothes in the dark—intolerably frustrating.

The old man reached out for a rifle, but Tang Fei slapped his hand away. “What are you doing? You want one too?”

“You brat, you think I care about such things? Let me tell you, I could have had as many of these as I wanted back in the day…” The old man pulled his hand back, jabbing his finger at Tang Fei’s nose as he cursed him roundly.

“And when was that? In your dreams last night?”

“Hmph, you ignorant pup,” the old man retorted, snickering.

But he soon reached out again, this time with a sycophantic smile. “Lend me one for the night, will you? I’d like to see what level of technology Nova has reached. Just for one night—I’ll return it first thing in the morning.”

“Just one night?”

“One night.”

“You’re not going to take it apart, are you?” Tang Fei asked warily. After all, he’d once dismantled Phoenix’s escape pod just to study Nova’s technological level. He worried the old man might be just as bad.

“Why would I do that?” the old man grumbled. “Can this thing even be taken apart? Without precision instruments, it’s impossible. Just look at it—not a single screw on the whole thing.”

“Alright then.” Tang Fei relented and handed over a pulse rifle. “You can borrow it. Just one night—I'll come for it in the morning.”

“Don’t be so stingy.” The old man snatched the gun and hurried back to his room.

Little Fatty hugged his rifle, looking at Tang Fei as if he wanted to say something but held back.

Tang Fei shot him a glance. “Go on, get some rest.”

“Okay, Bro!” Little Fatty replied happily, eager to go study his new weapon.

With both Little Fatty and the old man gone to their rooms, Tang Fei sat alone in the living room. He’d finally gotten the pulse rifles he’d dreamed of, yet the joy he’d anticipated wasn’t there. Instead, he felt a strange emptiness.

It was still the same trio: Tang Fei, Little Fatty, and the old man. Nothing had changed, except now they had four valuable pulse rifles. But why did he feel so hollow?

I found a beam of light, and then I returned it to the sun.

During that process, did I really lose nothing? Was there truly no regret?

Tang Fei drifted into deep thought.

He could hunt, slaughter sheep, even kill in anger, but he was utterly at a loss when it came to finer feelings like these.

The old man had never taught him any of this.

Phoenix had said she’d left Tang Fei a gift. When he’d asked where, she’d just replied, “Guess…”

Wasn’t this just like those martial heroes’ novels, where the protagonist’s father is mortally wounded, and as he cradles him, the old man spends ages giving instructions and then, just as he’s about to reveal the killer’s name, dies with his last breath?

Bah, what a wretched comparison.

You’ve held on for so long, couldn’t you have lasted a second more? After all that rambling, couldn’t you just blurt out the crucial information? “The one who killed me is… is… your grandfather?” Couldn’t you have held back the name just a bit? Even final words have to be dragged out?

Whenever Tang Fei read such scenes, he wanted to drag the author out and give him a beating.

Idiots!

Tang Fei thought, Thank goodness Phoenix isn’t my girlfriend. If she were, I’d have to break up with her. She’d really dodged a bullet.

But the problem remained: what exactly was the gift Phoenix had left, and where should he look for it?

He had no experience with romance, nor had any girl ever given him a present.

Had he ever?

Oh, best not to dwell on that…

The first place that came to mind was Phoenix’s room—originally his own. Before Phoenix’s arrival, he and the old man and Little Fatty each had their own rooms. After she came, he couldn’t share a room with her and ended up bunking with Little Fatty instead.

The old man had offered as well, but Tang Fei refused. He couldn’t stand the old man’s fishy smell.

Tang Fei pushed open the door to his former room, and something curious struck him. When he’d lived here, the room always had a greasy, stale smell, as if the air itself was polluted.

After Phoenix had stayed, nothing in the furnishings or bedding had changed, yet the greasy odor was gone, replaced by a fresh, sweet scent of lemon fruit.

Tang Fei knew that scent well—it was Phoenix’s own fragrance. He’d smelled it up close in the cave.

The quilt was folded neatly, stacked like a perfect block of tofu. Tang Fei found the shape oddly charming—he’d never imagined such limp, old cotton could stand so upright.

What puzzled him was: why did Phoenix fold the bedding each morning? Didn’t she just have to unfold it again at night? What a waste of time!

Inside the wardrobe was the interstellar uniform Phoenix had changed out of.

Tang Fei picked it up and sniffed it. The familiar scent filled his nose…

Smack!

He slapped himself in the face.

“Tang Fei, how could you do such a thing? You lecherous, shameless scoundrel…”

After the slap and the scolding, he considered his penance served. So he picked up the uniform again and took a deep whiff.

“Mmm, it smells wonderful!”

His conscience clear.

Nothing under the bedding, nor in the wardrobe.

“What exactly is the gift?”

“Where could it be hidden?”

Tang Fei reasoned that Phoenix couldn’t have expected to leave so suddenly—she’d barely had time to change clothes. So whatever she’d left must have been prepared in advance.

He lay down on the bed, hugging her uniform, in the very place Phoenix had slept.

Hmm, something hard under his head.

He sat up at once and searched beneath the pillow.

He found a knife.

A small, antique dagger—not some high-tech artifact from Nova, but something that looked to have been crafted before the Great Cataclysm.

Tang Fei turned the knife over in his hands. On the leather-wrapped handle were two carved characters in ancient script.

He studied them closely and finally recognized the name: Xiuxue.

“Xiuxue,” Tang Fei whispered softly.

Then, feeling like a thief, he glanced around furtively, as if he’d called out Phoenix’s name and feared being overheard.

He drew the knife and sliced it against the bed’s headboard, cutting cleanly through a block of wood.

It sliced wood like mud!

“From today on, you’ll be called the Xiuxue Dagger,” Tang Fei declared.

He didn’t care what it used to be called; as far as he was concerned, the name was his to give.

Searching further under the pillow, he found a map.

He studied the map for a while, and his eyes suddenly lit up.

——

“What? Grave robbing?” Little Fatty stared at Tang Fei, wide-eyed.

“Keep your voice down,” Tang Fei hissed, clapping a hand over Little Fatty’s mouth. “Don’t let the old man hear.”

“What if he does?”

“If he finds out, we won’t be able to go,” Tang Fei explained. “Remember, he’s forbidden us from ever leaving the Hengshan Compound. Have we ever traveled far since we were kids?”

Little Fatty nodded. “Will it be dangerous?”

“What’s to be afraid of? With my skills, your strength, and the pulse rifles, anyone who messes with us will be in trouble.”

At the mention of pulse rifles, Little Fatty’s blood boiled. Ever since he’d gotten his hands on the treasure, he hadn’t had a chance to see what it could really do. He wanted to test it, but Big Bro said it would waste energy. He wanted to hunt with it, but Big Bro said it would reduce the prey to powder.

Now, with a chance to use the pulse rifle, what was a little risk?

“I’ll do whatever you say, Big Bro. When do we leave?” Little Fatty agreed eagerly.

He was itching to fire a shot right now.

What man doesn’t love playing with guns?

“Let me get things ready. When I’m done, we’ll set out,” Tang Fei replied. “Just make sure the old man doesn’t find out.”

“Don’t worry, Big Bro. My lips are sealed,” Little Fatty promised.

“It’s not your mouth I’m worried about,” Tang Fei said. “It’s that your face can’t hide a thing.”

Little Fatty hurriedly covered his face with his hands.

“See what I mean…” Tang Fei was speechless.

(P.S. Phoenix gave Tang Fei the Xiuxue Dagger. Can’t you readers give Old Willow some votes?)