Thousands Of People Thought Of Him - Chapter 19

It Was Him.

Ying Fusang’s pupils were so dark they resembled the eyes of a low-quality android—emotionless and cold. Lately, however, when Ying Chenglang looked into those eyes, he noticed a strange brightness—an unnatural glint amidst the pure blackness. He hated this change.

But now, after just a single glance, Ying Chenglang was forced to lower his head and avert his gaze, as if some invisible force was pressing down on him.

There was a sudden, overwhelming pressure emanating from the other’s eyes—far beyond psychological. Ying Chenglang even experienced a bizarre bout of nausea and dizziness.

What the hell is going on?!

From the corner of his eye, he saw the other man rise and slowly approach.

His instincts screamed danger, like a primitive creature sensing a predator. Something terrifying was closing in.

But…

What a joke! What could this useless waste possibly do to him?

“Heh, what’s this? Angry now?”

Ying Chenglang forced himself to look up and keep mocking the other, but before he could finish the sentence—his voice was suddenly cut off.

Eyes wide with disbelief, he looked at the man in front of him—

Ying Fusang tilted his head slightly, ankle-length silver hair sliding gently with the motion. A small sparrow lay lifeless in his left palm, while his right hand was clamped tightly around Ying Chenglang’s throat.

“So noisy.”

Reacting on instinct, Ying Chenglang immediately tried to pry off the hand choking him, but no matter how hard he struggled, the other man didn’t budge.

“You…!”

Ignoring his frantic attempts, Ying Fusang stared at the dead bird in his hand, as if recalling something. “You killed it?” His voice carried a hint of confusion.

He never once looked at Ying Chenglang, and his face barely changed. But in the next moment, his grip tightened suddenly.

Oxygen drained rapidly from Ying Chenglang’s lungs. His head felt like it was being crushed. Bl00d vessels throbbed violently. Raw fear engulfed him.

Is this guy seriously trying to kill me?!

Ying Fusang was shorter, but now he was lifting him effortlessly by the throat, his feet dangling, his struggles growing weaker as his vision blurred. Rage, confusion, resentment—all floated away with his fading consciousness.

Just as he thought he was truly going to die, the grip around his neck abruptly released. The suffocating pressure receded like a crashing wave.

Thud—Ying Chenglang collapsed heavily to the floor, coughing violently as he clutched his throat, gasping for air like a drowning man.

He looked up in fear at Ying Fusang, only to see the latter still standing, eyes closed, as if about to faint.

What the hell is going on?!

Before he could make sense of it, a sudden gust of wind blew in, forcing him to shield his eyes.

When he opened them again, a figure had appeared out of nowhere.

The newcomer wore strange clothes. From this angle, his face was unclear, but there was something about his aura that reminded Ying Chenglang of… the solemn statues in temples?

The man effortlessly caught Ying Fusang’s falling body and pulled him into his arms. Sensing Ying Chenglang’s gaze, he didn’t even bother looking—just flicked a sleeve, and Ying Chenglang collapsed unconscious again.

Qi Xingwen gently brushed Ying Fusang’s long hair from his face, channeling divine energy to check his condition.

As he examined him, he noticed something clutched tightly in Ying Fusang’s left hand.

Qi Xingwen leaned down, guiding the hand to open, revealing the bird—his own familiar—now dead. Without hesitation, he turned it into a wisp of green smoke that vanished instantly.

Afterward, he pulled out a handkerchief and carefully wiped the bl00d from Ying Fusang’s fingers.

“How bad is it? What’s going on?” Jiang Tan rushed in right behind him.

She arrived just in time to see the bl00d on Ying Fusang and Ying Chenglang unconscious on the floor. Her eyes widened. “Sh1t, did Fusang really kill that guy?!”

We’re screwed…

“He’s not dead,” Qi Xingwen replied calmly. “Not yet.”

Jiang Tan: …Pretty sure he wanted to, though.

She finally noticed something even more alarming. “Wait—did he just trigger his divine core?!”

Ying Fusang was currently fully human. His body shouldn’t have been able to withstand divine energy. The fact that he didn’t explode and merely passed out was pure luck.

She immediately cast a spell to examine the trajectory of his karmic trial.

Moments later, she sighed in relief. “Thank god that Ying Chenglang guy survived. Things are still on track—barely.”

Qi Xingwen looked coldly at the unconscious Ying Chenglang.

Jiang Tan noticed the dangerous glint in his eyes. “Yeah, well, we can’t afford further interference. We need to wipe all traces of this incident. That includes that guy’s memories, and…”

She hesitated as she looked at him.

“I suggest doing a thorough job this time. Erase everything related to Fusang and that sparrow—completely. You know if anything goes wrong, none of us can afford the consequences.”

Qi Xingwen looked down at Ying Fusang, silent. His emotions screamed in protest, but…

“Alright,” he finally said.

“I’ll handle Fusang. You take care of the other one,” Jiang Tan offered, not wanting to be the villain.

Qi Xingwen placed a hand behind Ying Fusang’s back and quietly began a memory-clearing spell.

Just as the spell took effect, Ying Fusang’s lashes fluttered and his eyes slowly opened, staring directly at him.

“Qi…”

Qi Xingwen froze, instinctively tightening his hold around his waist. “I’m here,” he answered softly.

Jiang Tan internally screamed: Holy crap?!

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He shouldn’t have woken up during a memory-clearing spell—it was incredibly dangerous.

She frantically mouthed at Qi Xingwen behind Ying Fusang’s back: Hurry! Do it now!

Qi Xingwen gently patted his back. “Sorry. Did I wake you? Go back to sleep.”

He quietly formed another hand seal.

“Don’t worry. It’s okay.”

The spell took effect quickly. Ying Fusang frowned, his eyelids drooping with sleep. But in that moment, a strange sense of déjà vu struck him. His eyes flew open again, locking onto Qi Xingwen with a look of disbelief.

“You’re doing it again…”

In just a few seconds, he understood. But he couldn’t stop it. His expression morphed from shock to deep, burning hatred.

Just before losing consciousness, he slumped forward. His lips brushed Qi Xingwen’s cheek—softly. His voice, even softer:

“Liar.”

Qi Xingwen froze.

After a long silence, he gently placed Ying Fusang on the bed and erected a protective barrier around him. Then, he stood by the window and stared at him.

“I’ve handled the other guy,” Jiang Tan said, walking over. Her palm was singed and smoking from divine backlash. “Sh1t, this stuff really hurts.”

“This side’s done too,” Qi Xingwen responded.

Jiang Tan muttered, “No way this didn’t involve him. Dammit. Why doesn’t the rule system punish that guy? It’s like he’s cheating.”

Qi Xingwen said thoughtfully, “Maybe he’s part of the system too. Just like you and me.”

Her skin crawled. “Ugh.”

“He won’t be able to hide much longer,” Qi Xingwen added.

Jiang Tan didn’t really understand, but sensed it wasn’t good.

Qi Xingwen reached out, gently brushing a finger along Ying Fusang’s cheek. The skin was cool to the touch—the same touch he hadn’t felt in five hundred years.

“When Fusang finishes this tribulation and remembers everything…” Jiang Tan started, watching his reaction.

“…He’ll probably hit me with another five-hundred-year ban.” Qi Xingwen chuckled—but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

His sleeve fluttered, stirring a breeze—and a barely audible sigh.

…

Only Ying Fusang remained in the room.

No one knew how much time passed when a cold, piercing wind blew in. The previously shut window had somehow opened again. A shadow entered silently, approaching the bed.

“Sleeping, are we?”

Ying Fusang breathed steadily, deeply asleep. But if he’d woken just then, he would’ve recognized the visitor instantly.

The sky was pitch-black. The man made no effort to hide. Clad in a hospital gown, Fang Baiyu looked at him with interest, eyebrows raised.

“Memory-wipe spell?” he murmured, reaching out to touch Ying Fusang’s forehead. “What are they trying to make you forget…”

The moment his finger neared Ying Fusang, a red thread burst into flame, searing his hand!

Fang Baiyu jerked back, clutching his burned finger, eyes narrowing.

The spellcaster had left behind their divine essence—bold and unhidden. Fang Baiyu instantly recognized it.

“Him?” he whispered in disbelief.

“Him… again?” His doubt turned to certainty.

Silence fell.

“Him. Again.”

Something inside Fang Baiyu snapped.

“Why?! Why?! WHY?!”

The calm, gentle façade he’d always worn was ripped away. He screamed, voice raw, eyes bloodshot, chest heaving like a man possessed.

He had long sensed a hidden force protecting Ying Fusang, and had laid careful plans to uncover it—only for that force to destroy his every scheme.

He wanted to be Ying Fusang’s savior. The one to rescue him from his pain.

During the school festival, Fang Baiyu had orchestrated everything: he’d manipulated two idiots into summoning a ghost, then planned to heroically save Fusang at the climax.

He even used a charm to ensure that once Ying Fusang touched it, the ghost would target him—just so Fang Baiyu could step in and “save” him.

Everything was perfect—until that being ruined it.

And when that presence vanished later, Fang Baiyu had felt elated.

As it should be. That’s how it’s supposed to be.

No one would protect Ying Fusang without reason. What fool risks themselves like that?

But now—now it was back.

“You know…” he murmured, even though Fusang couldn’t hear, “I’m the one who’s truly helped you.”

“Do you know what Shi Suying wanted? She wanted you dead!”

“She hoped you’d be diagnosed with a heart condition during exams—so you’d miss treatment and be rejected by every school.”

“Dead on the table or failing the exams—it didn’t matter, as long as you were gone.”

“But you know what?” He pointed at himself, trembling. “I was the one who used magic to cover it all up. I saved you!”

He made it sound tragic—but said nothing of his twisted motives.

“No one in the Ying family has ever loved you. Not here. Not in the other world. No one’s ever truly cared for you but me.”

His voice grew quieter, almost reverent.

“Why does Qi Xingwen keep coming back?! Why can’t you see me?!”

He fell silent, face twisted. Then, almost laughing: “I thought this time, finally, you’d notice me. But the moment he shows up, you throw me away like trash again.”

“No—you never even looked at me.”

Memories and past humiliations surged back like a nightmare. Fang Baiyu suddenly laughed lowly, his shoulders shaking.

“So that’s it? You’re telling me you’re some predestined match? A love written in the stars?!”

He laughed uncontrollably.

“Well then…” His voice dropped.

“If you don’t want a savior… I’ll be your executioner.”

Time passed. He calmed down, stood, and looked at the unconscious Ying Fusang with a bright smile—the same sweet smile everyone was used to.

“If your tribulation fails and your soul shatters… then you’ll have no choice but to choose me, right?”

He walked to the window and gently closed it, then prepared a spell to leave. Before disappearing, he glanced back once more.

“When that day comes… I’ll make you into a beautiful doll.”

“—Using the method you taught me.”