The Mad Ҡìղց

The Return of Xie

Wang sat in the dimly lit room, staring out of the window, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. He had always known that life was unpredictable, but nothing had prepared him for the events of the past few months. The unicorn-like child, who now sat peacefully on the floor playing with a wooden block, had come into his care under the most mysterious circumstances. The child's soft silver hair shimmered under the dim light, and its radiant eyes glowed faintly, a testament to its magical origins.

A week ago, the list of surviving sorcerers had been released. Of the hundreds who once wielded magic, only three were confirmed to be alive. One of them, a woman who had married a human, swore before Duan Dan, that she had not performed magic in over a decade. As for the remaining two sorcerers, their whereabouts were unknown. Despite the relentless efforts they had managed to elude capture. Wang knew that they would never stop searching, but for now, his primary concern was keeping the child safe.

It was on this particular evening, as Wang absentmindedly rubbed the child's silver hair, that a knock came at the door. He furrowed his brow, glancing toward Meng, who was seated across the room. She rose to her feet and made her way to the door. The moment she opened it, her face went pale.

Standing there, in the cool night air, was Xie.

"What are you doing here?" Meng whispered, her voice barely audible as she glanced back toward the living room.

Wang's heart skipped a beat. Xie? He must have misheard her. It couldn't be Xie, could it?

"Who's at the door?" came Chang's voice from deeper within the house.

"Grandma..." Xie's voice was thick with emotion. "It's me," she said, her eyes welling up with tears as she stood on the doorstep.

Chang's footsteps echoed down the hallway as she approached. Her face softened in shock and recognition. "Goddess... Xie?"

Without another word, Chang rushed forward and embraced Xie tightly. Tears streamed down Xie's face as she clung to Chang. "Why are you crying?" Chang asked, her voice gentle but concerned.

"I got a call this morning," Xie began, her voice trembling. "Wang... Wang lost his grandmother."

Meng narrowed her eyes. "A call?" Her voice was sharp with suspicion. "Who called you?"

Xie fumbled for her phone and handed it to Meng. She scrolled through the recent calls and found the number. Without hesitation, Meng dialed the number. It rang and rang, but no one answered. It eventually went to voicemail.

Wang, still sitting in the room, couldn't believe his ears. His heart raced as he heard Xie's voice, a voice he had long since believed to be silenced. Slowly, he rose from his seat and walked toward the living room entrance. His grey hoodie clung loosely to his frame, and his black joggers swished softly with each step. His face, pale with disbelief, peered around the corner.

"Xie?" he whispered, his voice shaky and uncertain.

Xie turned toward him, her tear-streaked face full of surprise. "Wang..."

For a brief moment, Xie took a step forward, wanting to close the distance between them, to embrace him the way she had embraced Chang. But Wang took a step back, his body tense and defensive. His hand instinctively dropped to his stomach, trying to shield the bulge beneath his hoodie that had grown more noticeable over the past few weeks.

"How are you alive?" Wang asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His mind raced with memories of the past—of their life together, of the day she disappeared, of the sorrow and heartbreak that followed.