The Fake Son Wants to Live [BL]-Chapter 128 - The Sword Between Us

Xing Yu’s breath came in shallow, unsteady gasps, each one trembling against the cold edge of the blade pressed to his throat. His knees dug into the rubble beneath him, the sharp edges biting through the fabric of his trousers, but he barely registered the pain. All he could see—all he had ever truly seen—was him.

Jian.

The man he had searched for across galaxies, through storms and ruin, through years of aching solitude. The man whose absence had carved a hollow space inside his ribs, a void that no victory, no battle, no fleeting comfort could ever fill.

And now, here he stood.

Alive.

The sword at Xing Yu’s throat was steady, its edge kissing his skin with lethal precision. A single bead of golden blood welled from the shallow cut, tracing a slow, burning path down his neck. But he didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. His eyes remained locked on Jian’s face—so cold, so unfamiliar, and yet so devastatingly beautiful that it stole the breath from his lungs.

The moonlight caught the faintest shimmer in Jian’s irises—a golden halo forming in the depths of his pupils, like the first light of dawn breaking through endless night.

Xing Yu’s breath hitched.

He’s awakened... his royal bloodline.

Relief crashed into him like a tidal wave, so fierce it nearly brought him to his knees all over again. Just a day ago, he had feared—truly feared—that Jian might not have survived the Grayling attacks. Humans were fragile, their bodies so easily broken. But Farians... Farians were different. Their blood carried the resilience of stars, the strength of ancient lineage. Even if they bled until their veins ran dry, their bodies would knit themselves back together, stubborn as the tides.

And now, here Jian stood—his prince, his mate—awakened at last.

A thousand memories, none of them his own but bound to him all the same, surged through Xing Yu’s mind.

He remembered the day the queen’s soul lamp had flickered out.

The capital had fallen into chaos.

She had been traveling across galaxies in her final months of pregnancy, hiding the third prince from those who sought to destroy their bloodline. But when her lamp died, there were no bodies. No remnants. No trace of her or the child she had carried.

The last signal had led them to Earth—but nothing more.

Xing Yu had been seven when the generals spoke in hushed tones of loss, their voices heavy with grief. He hadn’t understood, not fully. How could he? He had still felt it—the quiet pulse of his mate’s heartbeat, the whisper of his breath in the universe’s vast expanse.

He’s alive, he had insisted, small hands clenched into fists. I can feel him.

But no one had listened.

No one believed a child.

"Your mate is gone," they told him, pity in their eyes. "Consider another."

Xing Yu had refused.

Because he knew.

And when he rose to command—when the weight of leadership settled upon his shoulders—his first act had been to request an expedition to Earth.

Five years.

Five years of searching. Fighting. Hoping.

Years of loneliness so deep it had carved scars into his bones.

And now—

Now, the man he had longed for stood before him, sword in hand, eyes burning with a fury that did not recognize him.

Xing Yu opened his mouth to speak, but his voice failed him. His throat tightened, the pressure behind his eyes stinging like fire. He blinked rapidly, refusing to let the tears fall.

The sword moved.

Another shallow cut was formed letting his golden blood drip down.

"If you don’t leave," Jian said, his voice low and dangerous, "I’ll kill you."

Xing Yu’s gaze flickered to the weapon—the black ore sword.

His breath caught.

It was unmistakably Farian. Crafted by the finest hands, tempered in the hottest flames of the Goliath Universe. A blade that could cleave through steel like paper.

Briana.

The sword made exclusively for the Farian Queen.

So Jian had it.

Which meant the queen—his mother—had given everything to protect him.

She must have died to ensure he lived.

The realization struck him like a blow to the chest.

"Leave," Jian growled again, his voice cracking beneath the fury. "Now!"

Xing Yu’s lips trembled. There were a thousand things he wanted to say.

I’ve waited for you my whole life.

I heard your soul’s echo the moment I was born.

I never stopped searching. Never stopped believing.

But the words withered in his throat.

All he could do was stare—frozen, not in fear, but in awe.

Because beneath the sword, beneath the threat, beneath the walls Jian had built around himself... stood his mate.

His prince.

And Jian didn’t even know who he was.

Xing Yu’s voice was hoarse when he finally whispered, "...Jian."

The name felt sacred on his lips. Like an answered prayer.

But Jian’s eyes only narrowed. The sword didn’t waver.

Behind him, a small boy clutched at Jian’s coat, his fingers trembling.

"Mister Jian... who is he?" the child whispered.

Jian’s voice softened, just slightly, just for the boy. "I don’t know. Just someone who should leave."

Xing Yu swallowed hard.

No.

Not like this.

Not after everything.

But he saw it now—the fear behind Jian’s eyes. The walls the young man risen up. The sword wasn’t just a weapon. It was a warning.

He was pretty sure jian would not hesitate to use it on him.

Xing yu stared blankly. He couldn’t force this. Couldn’t demand a connection Jian didn’t remember.

So, with a heart so heavy it threatened to drag him into the earth, Xing Yu took two steps back. His eyes never left Jian’s face, memorizing every detail—the sharp line of his jaw, the way the moonlight caught in his dark hair, the gold flickering in his gaze.

The sword lowered, but Jian’s guard remained.

Xing Yu backed away.

But in his heart, he knew.

He had found him.

And this time—this time—he wasn’t letting go. freёwebnoѵel.com

He would not leave

Never again.