"You know?"
In the darkness, Zhang Xiao'ao's voice was still as clear as a boy's, but his sigh carried the weariness of old age.
"You admit it?"
In the darkness, Ping'an's voice, whether surprised or calm, faded away in the vast warehouse.
"Whoosh!"
A long arrow tore through the air, shooting fiercely towards Ping'an's voice.
"Old man, can we chat before fighting?"
Ping'an gritted his teeth, enduring the pain, and pressed down hard on the scratch on his left arm. Although he felt he had dodged it, he was still half a beat too slow. While he wasn't hit directly, a large gash was left on his arm.
This was a blind shot.
As expected of a world champion, even his blind shots were so accurate. Many years later, feeling his father's terrifyingly suffocating arrow power again, he felt a faint sense of nostalgia.
"There's nothing to say. Physiologically, I'm no longer your father, and you're no longer my son," Zhang Xiao'ao roared at Ping'an in the darkness. "Come on, let me see if you've forgotten our family's heritage all these years!"
"Whoosh!"
An arrow shot out silently from the darkness, incredibly fast. The moment Zhang Xiao'ao, who was still cursing, heard the whistling sound of the arrow, he dodged it with his agile movements. However, this arrow was too fast, like lightning, the cold glint preceding the sonic boom, making it impossible to evade.
"Hiss!"
Zhang Xiao'ao let out a low growl. Looking down, he saw that the arrow had pierced his left thigh.
Fortunately, the force wasn't too great; it was merely a graze.
Zhang Xiao'ao knew that his previous arrow must have injured one of Ping'an's shoulders, otherwise, this arrow would have gone right through him. Trembling, he pulled out the arrow and cast a look of unwillingness into the darkness before also hiding himself away.
"Old man, I remember the year Xiao'ao was born, I was exactly fifteen years old, and the day he was born was the day you committed suicide," Ping'an couldn't help but say in the dark silence.
"Whoosh!"
Zhang Xiao'ao acted the moment he heard Ping'an's voice.
"Clang!"
A crisp sound of metal colliding suddenly rang out.
"Old man, let's talk!" Ping'an said, "Why did you choose Xiao'ao for the cloning surgery?"
"My people chose twenty expectant infants for me, and I just happened to pick Zhang Xiao'ao. What about it? Is that not allowed?" Knowing Ping'an wasn't hit, Zhang Xiao'ao didn't care. He found a broken table to shield himself, just as Ping'an had done, and then said to Ping'an, "This child had a difficult birth. What a perfect opportunity! Why wouldn't I use it! It also allowed me to get closer to you later!"
"So, you knew who you were from a young age?" Ping'an asked incredulously after a moment of silence.
"No, at the very least, when I became your disciple, I was still your good disciple, Zhang Xiao'ao," Zhang Xiao'ao said. "You shouldn't have taken me to Germany. Do you know how long I stayed in Hamburg? The moment I encountered the familiar place again, I was immediately awakened. Mr. Ke's people, who were guarding Germany, found me immediately, and that's when I realized you were planning to ruin the efforts of my entire life!"
It all started with the trip to Germany.
Ping'an had always been puzzled. The story he told at Adam's that night was just a story. Normally, Zhang Xiao'ao would have fallen asleep listening to it, but he had listened intently and asked many questions.
"So, you hate my mother and want to kill her?" Ping'an asked loudly.
"She should have died long ago! It was she and Ou Er who conspired to frame me. What's wrong with me killing her?" Zhang Xiao'ao suddenly became agitated and shot another arrow in Ping'an's direction.
This time, there was no sound of metal impact because Ping'an had been hit.
"Dead?" Zhang Xiao'ao shouted after a long silence, unable to hear Ping'an's voice.
"Thanks to you, I'm not dead!" Ping'an said in a feigned relaxed tone. In reality, he was sitting on the ground, tightly tying his belt around the artery in his left thigh, through which an arrow was piercing.
"Then I'll send you off!" Hearing Ping'an's weak voice, Zhang Xiao'ao suddenly appeared, preparing to finish Ping'an off.
But.
"Whoosh!"
Just as Zhang Xiao'ao leaned out, ready to shoot another arrow, the arrow Ping'an had shot flew past Zhang Xiao'ao's ear with a strange sound.
In an instant, Zhang Xiao'ao felt his left ear being grazed by something. He reached up and found a wound on his ear.
This kid, he's good!
Thus, after exchanging several arrows, silence fell again.
"Do you regret it?"
His injured thigh had lost all strength. Ping'an hid behind a pillar, gasping for air while speaking.
"Do you have cigarettes?" A somewhat weak voice came from Ping'an's southeast, indicating that Zhang Xiao'ao was also not doing well.
"At this point, you still have time for a smoke?" Ping'an said with a wry smile, "Alright, about twelve steps to your left, there's a discarded wooden table. The drawer might still have cigarettes I saved when I was in school."
Zhang Xiao'ao seemed to really want to smoke, and with a lot of noise, he walked towards the place where the cigarettes were.
There was indeed half a pack of cigarettes there, untouched for over ten years, which Ping'an had secretly smoked during his school days. He wondered if they were still smokable.
Ping'an, naturally, didn't consider whether the cigarettes were smokable.
"Hiss! Whoosh!"
Despite the pain all over his body, Ping'an calculated Zhang Xiao'ao's movements and gritted his teeth, firing two arrows.
Alas, he didn't know if he hit them.
"Where's the fire!"
Zhang Xiao'ao's angry voice came from the darkness.
Well! He wasn't dead!
"Figure it out yourself. I've already done enough by finding the cigarettes for you," Ping'an said playfully.
"Scrape—"
From Zhang Xiao'ao's side, the sound of an instrument scraping against the wall suddenly came. After a few noises, a spark flashed.
Ping'an had used this method before; it wasn't new. Place the cigarette and the arrowhead side-by-side, with the arrowhead in front and the cigarette behind. The arrowhead scrapes against the wall, creating sparks that ignite the cigarette.
He confirmed it; it was indeed his father, because only they knew this method.
Thinking of this, Ping'an suddenly felt an overwhelming sadness. He covered his mouth with his hand and began to sob silently.
A scent of smoke, tinged with decay, slowly wafted over.
"A man in his thirties, where are you getting all these youthful impulses? You're disgracing the Ping family," Zhang Xiao'ao, or rather, Ping'an, said, his voice strained.
"Hello? You did something a person shouldn't do, and you even wanted to kill my mother!" Ping'an had let go by now. Since there was no one around, he started crying uncontrollably.
"Your mother was trying to harm me. If I wanted to kill her, I would have done so long ago," Ping'an said, enjoying his smoke, his words becoming more numerous. "I was protecting her, preventing the remaining Mr. Ke's from acting recklessly."
"How many Mr. Ke's are still out there?" Ping'an suddenly asked upon hearing this.
"Not many, and they're either old or injured, and without money, they can't amount to much," Ping'an sighed. "I told them all to hide back then. There will always be troublemakers who come looking for you. And you, you knew they were our people, yet you risked your life to confront them."
"They do evil everywhere; they're not good people!" Ping'an retorted.
"They have sins, but not crimes. Think about it!" Ping'an finished his cigarette and, with lingering reluctance, stood up.
"Whoosh!"
The cigarette was finished, and the conversation was over. Ping'an shot an arrow while Ping'an wasn't paying attention.
This arrow was extremely dangerous, flying past Ping'an's neck at an almost touching distance.
"Old man, you really want to kill me!" Ping'an went mad. Throughout the exchange of arrows, both father and son had tacitly avoided shooting at fatal spots.
"My grand plan was ruined by you, and you're not my son anymore. I am Zhang Xiao'ao now!" Ping'an said, and then shot another arrow, which Ping'an, now on alert, successfully dodged.
Not far from the warehouse, at Ping'an's home, Lin Dang and Su Tang were still in the dark.
"It's so late, why isn't he back yet?" Lin Dang checked her phone and found it was past midnight. She instructed Su Tang to call Ping'an.
"He didn't bring his phone, and Xiao'ao didn't either," Su Tang said indifferently. "They went out to shoot arrows; if they're not satisfied, they won't come back."
"Whoosh!"
Ping'an exerted himself again. He wanted to end this father-son drama immediately. The venting had to end. Life had to go on. He needed to go home.
"What are you shooting? It's all over the place!" Ping'an said, watching Ping'an's arrow fly far from him and out the window. He shook his head.
"Let's go home!" Ping'an spoke again.
"Home?" Ping'an said, "How do we go home? What do we say when we get back? Should I also go to prison for a few years?"
"I'm not a police officer, and I won't report you. You can go back to the grassland—" Ping'an thought for a moment with difficulty and said, "At worst, we'll go our separate ways. I'll call you dad, and you call me master! But don't get any ideas about Su Tang. I don't want to call my disciple my stepmother!"
"Get lost!" Ping'an was amused. He was indeed his son. Beneath his seemingly sharp mind, he was a typical idiot.
The security guards of the residential complex discovered an arrow in the green belt in a short amount of time.
"Only Mr. Ping's family has this type of long arrow. Give them a call to see if it fell outside. This arrow looks expensive," the responsible guard instructed.
They shot arrows all night, and both father and son were exhausted. The warehouse seemed to have returned to its quiet state.
After an unknown amount of time, the warehouse door suddenly opened, and two figures, holding flashlights and supporting each other, walked in.
"Ping'an! Xiao'ao! Are you there?"
Lin Dang's anxious voice filled the air.
"Master! Xiao'ao! What are you doing?" Su Tang, seeing an arrow on the ground with blood on it, recognized it as one Xiao'ao commonly used.
Neither Ping'an nor Ping'an spoke.
For the first time, Ping'an felt unsure how to face his lover and disciple.
He didn't know what Ping'an was thinking at this moment.
Even with Ping'an's memories, was he no longer Zhang Xiao'ao?
"Come out, come out!" Su Tang, seemingly understanding what had happened, picked up the arrow on the ground with tears in her eyes and cried out hoarsely, "Zhang Xiao'ao, you haven't finished your math homework yet! Get out here and do it for me!"
A faint voice came from a corner of the warehouse.
"Senior Sister, you can't talk nonsense. I've finished it..."
A car drove past the warehouse, and a beam of light shone into it.
Following this faint light, Zhang Xiao'ao's familiar, angry but hesitant voice could be heard.
"Get down here!" Su Tang couldn't hold back her tears any longer and cried out loudly with a roar.
"Senior Sister, Master hit me too hard. I, I'm like a hedgehog right now, I can't move."
When Zhang Xiao'ao's wronged voice reached Ping'an's ears, Ping'an knew it was all over.
"Hoo..."
Ping'an, who had been resisting unconsciousness, finally lowered his longbow.
Damn it, he's back. It's good that he's back. It's good that he's back.
Ping'an muttered, and his eyes slowly closed.
It's good that he's back.