Ch 41 – Who Do You Want to Lock Up?

“Uncle Zaire.” Yu Xi tugged at the leg of Zaire’s trousers, having completely forgotten his previous aversion to him. 

He still didn’t care much for the man, but this obnoxious guy did have a cute nephew, and Yu Xi couldn’t exactly attack him with a drink right in front of the child.

“Uncle Zaire, please put him down.” Yu Xi continued tugging at the hem of Zaire’s clothes.

The child in Zaire’s arms reached out and grabbed hold of Yu Xi’s hands.

It was obvious that the child also wanted to play with Yu Xi, but Zaire didn’t dare let him go. He had the strange feeling that Yu Xi had set his sights on his nephew with the goal of whisking him away.

Yu Xi was simply too enthusiastic.

But Zaire soon realized that this idea was absurd. Yu Xi was just a child, after all. Perhaps he didn’t get the chance to play with children his own age very often, in which case it was perfectly natural for him to want to bring his playmate home.

He was an adult, and shouldn’t argue over something so trivial with a child.

Zaire recounted his suspicion to Kersz as if it was a joke, and Kersz smiled: “Exactly, it’s perfectly normal for a child to think that way. Oh, by the way, hold onto your nephew a little tighter.”

Zaire: ?

What was that supposed to mean?

Why did he feel an even greater sense of peril now?

Yu Xi turned his head to send Kersz a rather displeased look.

But a second later, he turned his attention back to the child and dedicated himself wholeheartedly to luring him over.

Yu Xi’s temptation campaign was a great success, and when the time came to part ways, the child wept bitterly, clinging to Yu Xi’s hand and refusing to let go. Yu Xi felt like crying too, yet Kersz was completely heartless and refused to allow him to stay any longer.

Upon returning home, Yu Xi was very angry. He felt that Kersz was deliberately standing in the way of his efforts to acquire a new human.

Tau sided with Yu Xi.

“The kid has parents,” Kersz said helplessly.

“But he’s young,” said Yu Xi. “By the time he’s grown, he might not even remember what his parents looked like.”

Tau: “Very true.” He didn’t see anything wrong with Yu Xi’s plan. If Yu Xi liked the child, why not just bring him home and raise him?

“Your behavior is completely out of line!” Kersz disagreed with Yu Xi’s idea entirely. He pointed a finger at Tau and said: “And you – stop egging him on from the sidelines.”

“That child is extremely loveable,” said Yu Xi.

“Adding to that,” said Kersz, “That extremely loveable child is someone else’s.”

“But his uncle is a very foolish human.” Yu Xi felt that he had every reason to bring the child to his side. “I can’t bear to imagine that such a loveable child will one day turn into the same kind of person as his uncle, a person who takes smug satisfaction in having become a good servant.”

Kersz crossed his arms over his chest: “That’s their family’s business.”

Yu Xi: “I can raise him better.”

“You can’t.” Kersz firmly opposed taking in someone else’s biological child. “You shouldn’t criticize the kid’s relatives, especially since they treat him really well.”

“He even insulted you!” Yu Xi couldn’t understand why Kersz was defending Zaire. “That’s proof enough that he’s not a good person.”

“And I can insult him right back. It all balances out in the end.” Kersz saw verbal abuse as something he could easily handle.

Yu Xi: “You might not care, but I do.”

Tau: “Wait, aren’t you getting off track? Weren’t you discussing the child?”

“If someone wanted to take away your Xiao Konglong just because you aren’t like a normal person, would you be okay with that?” Kersz asked.

Tau took a step back, shaking his head.

“See?” Kersz turned back to Yu Xi. “You can’t satisfy your own desires at the expense of someone else.”

Yu Xi remained silent.

Kersz let out a sigh: “You think I’m being ridiculous, don’t you? After all, haven’t I been constantly venting my anger by hurting others?”

That was exactly what Yu Xi thought. However, he knew that voicing such a thing would be too hurtful, and he didn’t want his relationship with Kersz to become strained.

“I don’t understand why I shouldn’’t raise a human child with my own hands.” Yu Xi turned his back to Kersz.

Kersz walked around to face him: “Because this one has parents, and to a child, parents are something irreplaceable.”

“Tau doesn’t see it that way.” Yu Xi tried to find an ally.

Tau nodded.

“Tau never spent time around his biological parents, ah.” Kersz rubbed his temples. “Even if a child of that age was momentarily distracted by your snacks, he’ll start crying out for his parents once night falls and it’s time for bed.”

“You aren’t ready to raise a child right now,” said Kersz.

“On what grounds have you come to that conclusion?” Yu Xi challenged.

Kersz: “Because as of right now, you haven’t even figured yourself out.” 

Yu Xi: “And you have?”

Kersz: “No, which is why I haven’t even considered raising children.”

Yu Xi took a deep breath: “Communicating with a child is simpler. I might not have figured out the nature of adult humans yet, but I know exactly what children are like.”

Kersz: “That’s not necessarily true. Raising a child involves much more than just enjoying their sweetness and obedience, and you shouldn’t project your own insecurities onto one.”

“Maybe you can give me a hand.” Yu Xi invited Kersz to co-parent with him.

“I don’t like children, and I can’t handle the responsibility.” Kersz shook his head.

“But you grew up nurtured by love.” Yu Xi felt that Kersz should want to pass this love on.

“Which is why I know just how much trouble I used to be.” Kersz hadn’t exactly been a model child.

“You may not like it, but we’re friends. Shouldn’t you accept certain things for my sake?” Yu Xi challenged Kersz. “You could try accepting some things you don’t like very much.”

“But a child has such a long lifespan. Children grow up, and then they grow old.” Kersz emphasized again, “And you’ve set your sights on someone else’s child.”

Tau was at somewhat of a loss. He kept feeling as though he should say something, but he simply couldn’t find an opportunity to chime in.

“Maybe….maybe…..” Tau dithered for a long moment, but said nothing in the end.

“Maybe I’m destined to never possess a human who belongs entirely to me!” Yu Xi picked up where Tau left off.

Tau: “That’s not what I was going to say!”

“You’re doing what you want to do, and I also want to do things that matter to me. But right now, you’re not allowing me to be myself!” Yu Xi raised his voice slightly.

Kersz softened his tone: “Sorry, sorry. Of course I want you to be yourself.”

“But you won’t let me raise that child.” Yu Xi widend his eyes.

“You can’t take away someone Zaire loves just because you find him to be a bit obnoxious.” Kersz tried to take Yu Xi’s hand, but he pulled away.

“Yu Xi….” Kersz leaned in closer to him. “Can you tell me why you want a human child so much?”

“Because a child will love me. It will rely on me for survival.” Yu Xi didn’t evade Kersz’s touch a second time, and Kersz finally grasped his wrist.

“Can you imagine how wonderful that would be? We’ll share bonding moments, and then ‘dependence’ and ‘love’ will be etched into his very instincts.” Yu Xi gazed at Kersz.

But when he recalled Kersz’s prior remark about not liking children, Yu Xi felt a pang of disappointment: “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I find myself envying the ancient humans’ mind-linking technology a little right now. With that, I could share my thoughts with you.” Yu Xi sighed. “Oh, right, you don’t like that technology. You don’t like people prying into your mind.”

“Humans always have such a strong sense of boundaries.” Yu Xi slumped dejectedly onto the sofa.

“Actually, it’s not impossible for you to raise that child.” Tau sat down beside him.

Tau disliked this sort of conflict. He felt like a tangled mess, and wanted to find a resolution to this problem amidst the chaos.

Yu Xi looked at Tau with an expectant gleam in his eyes.

Tau: “His parents will just need to meet with an ‘accident.’ It’s really that simple.”

Yu Xi: “Heavens!”

Tau: “Are you feeling a little better?”

Yu Xi: “Next time, don’t make any suggestions.”

Holding Xiao Konglong in his arms, Tau rose to his feet.

“Yu Xi.” Kersz sat down beside him.

Yu Xi shifted his body in the opposite direction.

“Yu Xi.” Kersz leaned in again. “We can’t take away somebody’s loved one.”

“Maybe I should become a space pirate robot. Then I wouldn’t have to fuss over the details like this.” Yu Xi lowered his head.

Kersz took his hand again: “Yu Xi!”

“I want a human who belongs entirely to me. He’ll know what I’m thinking and understand my past. We’ll share the most intimate of parent-child bonds, and one day when I eventually power down, he’ll still remember me,” Yu Xi said.

Kersz: “…..Yu Xi, a child isn’t meant for that.”

“Children don’t know so many details about their parents. Initially, they even assume that the two adults raising them are actually named ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad.’ And the older they get, the more they’ll drift away from their parents, who represent their ‘past.’” Kersz could tell that Yu Xi had fallen into a state of confusion. “A child’s love is very intense, but it’s also one-sided. Maybe he won’t even try to understand the complexities of who you are, and just devote himself wholeheartedly to preparing for his future.”

Yu Xi looked somewhat dismayed: “I get it.”

Kersz: “Your database contains a vast amount of knowledge. You should understand this better than me.”

“But I can’t help but hope.” Yu Xi yearned to raise a human whose heart and eyes were filled with nothing but him.

Yu Xi had recently come into possession of many good things, but this good fortune brought with it a sense of bewilderment.

He felt that his world had never been so huge and empty. There were scarcely any paths for him to choose from, yet it seemed that at any moment, he could take a step and move forward.

It was exhilarating, but also terrifying.

He could finally make his own choices, but he had absolutely no idea how to go about doing so.

What should he do next?

He had always cared so deeply about humanity, so he just kept on looking for humans.

Yu Xi wanted a human child. A symbol of a new life.

He had watched countless humans grow up in the past, but this time, he wanted to be a participant.

This was something he was very familiar with, and he wanted to repeat this familiar event.

Because he knew that family bonds were very likely to yield an emotional return, and that such emotions would be very safe.

Yu Xi needed this.

“I understand. I won’t take someone else’s child.” Yu Xi reached up and wiped his face. “I’m going to go rest now.”

“Yu Xi.” Kersz got up to follow him. “Do you want me to keep you company?”

“No need, I’m just a little tired. I’m going to turn myself off for a while.” Yu Xi entered his room, looking terribly dejected.

After lying down in bed, Yu Xi felt no sadness, and didn’t even ruminate much before closing his eyes.

He knew that his demands were unreasonable, but he just couldn’t help himself.

But why…..

Yu Xi’s breathing lights dimmed slightly as he closed his eyes and drifted off into slumber.

He dreamed of the ancient humans and that final farewell.

This was not a new dream.

But close on its heels came an unfamiliar dream, or rather, an unfamiliar memory.

“If only none of us had to change.” It was a calico cat.

The cat crouched down beside him and said softly: “If only it could be just like the day you met us. That day was a delightful surprise for us all. We became companions, looking forward to the countless surprises that still awaited us in the future.”

“Why does this road have to have an end, ah?” the calico cat asked him.

Yu Xi had seen this calico cat before, but he only possessed a few short memories of it.

These fragmented memories weren’t enough for him to feel any affection toward it, but at this moment, Yu Xi felt deeply sad.

He had a feeling that this calico cat was about to leave him.

“I really wish I hadn’t met you all,” Yu Xi heard himself say. “I would still be waiting alone on my little planet. I wouldn’t have taken part in any adventures, nor would I have to watch you leave me one by one.”

“Why is the energy the humans gave me able to sustain me for so long, ah?” Yu Xi said. “I really wish I could die, right here, right now.”

“It would be better to die right here alongside you all. You know, at the very beginning, a young human treated me just like a pet – much like a kitten or a puppy. But while kittens and puppies died, I didn’t, so the young human transferred their affection to me.”

“In the eyes of humans, we’re all the same. Maybe I should just perish alongside all of you. Then there would be someone to grieve for me, and how bitterly they would weep, ah.”

The calico cat looked at him: “But…..Yu Xi, the humans are gone now. The beastfolk have developed their own civilization, and you have developed your own emotions. You’re a brand new being.”

“No humans will weep for us. They’ve all reached their journey’s end and found what they were looking for. We too have reached our end, and we’ve lost almost everything,” the calico cat whispered.

“But I have no end,” Yu Xi said with great sorrow. “It’s always me watching you leave. I feel like a book recording your history.”

“You do have an end,” the calico cat cut in.

“Perhaps your journey will be very, very long, but it does have a finish line. It will be a little later than ours, but you’re not so different from us.”

“Someday, you too will die.” The calico cat sprawled onto the ground. “The instant it happens, all else will fade away.”

Yu Xi tried to give the calico cat a gentle nudge, but he suddenly realized that he was inhabiting his robot vacuum body, which had no hands. “What’s wrong with you? Aren’t you going to keep fighting?”

“My time is almost up.” There seemed to be a flicker of reluctance in the cat’s eyes, as if she still harbored a multitude of unfulfilled wishes, and her increasingly clouded mind was striving to find a way to break through the impasse.

The calico cat seemed to see a glimpse of dawn. A glimmer of hope, though a false one.

It seemed as though she could muster one final blow against this hopeless reality.

She tried to raise her paw high, but Yu Xi only felt her foreleg shift the slightest bit.

“Please don’t die, okay?” Yu Xi tried to nudge the calico cat’s head upward. “You can’t die. If you die, I’ll be left all alone again. I talk a lot, to all of you.”

“But you won’t respond to me. I feel like you’ve isolated me.” Yu Xi’s misery was such that he felt like his system could crash at any moment. “You’ve all gone off to the other side. Off to whisper secrets behind my back.”

“You can’t do this. I don’t even look forward to tomorrow anymore.”

“I used to look forward to seeing you all every day.”

“But the moment I open my eyes tomorrow, I’ll think of you all together in another realm, talking together where I can’t hear you. I won’t know if you can hear me or not, because none of you are willing to respond.”

Yu Xi carried the calico cat on his back down a long stretch of road, then finally placed her into a small box.

Yu Xi returned home in a stupor.

He wanted to make himself feel better, and thought that he should follow his old routines, working and living just like he had in the past.

Following a pre-programmed routine, he would clean the empty rooms at a fixed time every day.

But everything felt different.

He felt that he no longer lived alone here, and would catch glimpses of his animal friends when his mind drifted. Yu Xi discovered that he could sense those friends who never responded to him, not as ghosts, but as parasites clinging to his memories.

Those friends had moved into his memories with their luggage in tow, remaining vividly ‘alive’ in the past, but with no future ahead of them.

But Yu Xi existed in that future that was beyond their reach.

Yu Xi awoke with a start.

He caught sight of Kersz sitting on the edge of the bed. The look on his face was somewhat conflicted, as if he was carefully weighing his words.

“Yu Xi, how are you feeling right now?” Kersz asked him.

Kersz still felt that he should make it clear to Yu Xi why he couldn’t steal other people’s children.

Yu Xi’s longing for a human child was downright unhealthy, and was more akin to a form of parasitism. Yu Xi wanted to live vicariously through that child.

But Kersz couldn’t say this so bluntly. He needed to be a little more tactful.

Kersz cleared his throat, but his arm was suddenly seized by Yu Xi.

“I don’t want to be a robot,” Yu Xi said out of nowhere.

Kersz’s eyes widened.

“I don’t want to be a robot anymore,” Yu Xi repeated.

“I don’t want to not know anything. I don’t want to be unsure of where I should be heading.” He didn’t want his happiness to be shrouded in fear.

He didn’t know how to use the knowledge stored in his mind. He couldn’t understand why, after having transformed his appearance to look more like a human, he still remained the same robot vacuum cleaner in that abstract dream, lacking even hands.

He wanted to be human, one of those beings who seemed to have been born knowing what to do.

He wanted to grow up like a human.

“I had a dream. I have so many dreams, but I don’t look like a human in any of them.” Yu Xi’s eyes were very bright, to the point that they were somewhat unsettling.

Humans didn’t have so much time to spend experiencing emotions, nor did the beastfolk.

Human civilization had reached its end, and they themselves had penned its final conclusion. The beastfolk civilization, however, seemed to have gone awry, its journey prematurely cut short.

But one by one, they all left. And they had been gone for a very, very long time.

Yu Xi felt that his response to this departure was incredibly slow.

No, he hadn’t even confronted the loss, and instead buried this long stretch of memory because he was unable to endure it.

If he were to become human, would he experience the most intense of emotions within the shortest possible span of time? Pain and pleasure would alternate, leaving him no escape, and he also wouldn’t be able to arbitrarily seal away certain memories.

“I want to be human,” said Yu Xi.

He had no desire to be some newly emerged sentient being, with no predecessors to pave the way for him. It was inconceivable that Yu Xi might stumble upon another long-lived robot from the past who could instruct him on how a robot was meant to live.

Humankind had a multitude of elders, and their lives offered countless solutions.

But Yu Xi was unable to find a solution of his own.

He wanted to become human, to deeply immerse himself in the life of a child, and through that, to learn what it meant to be human. 

Perhaps such a deep entanglement would feel like suffocation.

Yu Xi’s appearance was already human enough. Perhaps, just like the spirits in those old tales, he only needed to devour a living human, a vibrant life, to revive himself.

Then he could transform from a robot vacuum cleaner into a real human being.

This human-like shell of his might just find a real soul.

Yu Xi stammered out these dark thoughts to Kersz, regretting them the moment they left his lips.

He was actually attempting to obtain validation from Kersz, someone who would never approve of such things.

Kersz would vigilantly stand guard, forbidding him from ever interacting with human children again. 

Kersz would condemn him.

Kersz would be disappointed in him.

But Yu Xi needed his validation far, far too much.

Because Kersz was now his only friend.

“Then what about the soul that’s already grown inside of you?” Kersz asked him.

Yu Xi: “Ah?”

“If you want a brand-new soul, then what about the soul of my friend?” Kersz wasn’t phased by Yu Xi’s wild ideas. He had already seen far too much. “My new friend, Yu Xi. Are you planning to throw his soul away? Or turn it into something else?”

“He’s my only friend in this world,” Kersz said: “He’s all I have left.”

Yu Xi seemed to calm down all at once.

It was strange. Although he had been speaking for so long, as he gazed at Kersz’s face, he felt as if he had just now truly woken up.

And upon waking, it seemed that there were many things awaiting him.

And they belonged solely to Yu Xi.

---

Consider donating via Kofi here.

Chapter 40 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 42

Ch. 112 – Nine-Step Cliff

Led by Old Uncle Sun as he cleared the way with his sickle, the group made their way through the forest. This old herbalist who frequently ventured into the mountains with a medicine basket on his back moved no slower than someone decades younger than him.

But when Fang Yang saw this, he still took the initiative to shoulder the man’s medicine basket and use his sword to help hack through the vegetation blocking their path.

Old Uncle Sun’s fondness for Fang Yang immediately grew. They had yet to travel very far, but the two of them had already become as close and affectionate as grandfather and grandson.

Cao Zirui, with his more introverted nature, wasn’t as good at socializing as Fang Yang. Nevertheless, he stood silently on Old Uncle Sun’s other side and helped clear the path.

Feng Ye and Hao Chen walked behind the three of them, Hao Chen fanning himself.

The forest was still as hot and dry as ever, not much better than the day before. The sun was already climbing high into the sky, nearing the hottest part of the day. But this time, Hao Chen didn’t pretend to be dehydrated, nor did he attempt to get Feng Ye to carry him on his back again.

His dragon was injured, and needed to be cared for and nurtured.

Thus, Hao Chen took the initiative to say: “Do you want me to carry you on my back?”

He was simply repaying the favor.

But Feng Ye refused very decisively: “No need.”

He was also deliberately maintaining a certain distance from Hao Chen.

Now that he had realized Hao Chen’s feelings and could offer him no response, it was naturally best to keep his distance.

Hao Chen took in the distance between himself and Feng Ye, wide enough to fit another person, and thought, Sure enough. Not only does this dragon intend to reject me, he’s even staying away in order to avoid any appearance of leading me on.

Despite having fully expected this, Hao Chen still felt a faint twinge of regret. Perhaps he shouldn’t have confessed so soon. It would have been best to keep it to himself a little longer.

Until he was a little closer to Feng Ye. Until he learned a little more about his man’s past.

But that ship had sailed, and all he could do was gaze across that person-sized gap and sigh with helpless longing.

Heaving a great inward sigh, Hao Chen cast small, wistful glances toward Feng Ye every now and then.

Feng Ye was a little self-conscious at first, but as time went on, he simply ignored Hao Chen and slowly sank into contemplation.

His thoughts were not centered on Hao Chen, as such a personal issue could be set aside for the moment. What truly mattered right now was their imminent arrival at the site of the Living Soil.

The exposed ruins of the Royal City of Western Qiang could be found in many locations, but each site looked slightly different. The most conspicuous landmark at the site of the Living Soil was a large, exposed pit, which was indeed the place Feng Ye had originally inquired about with Old Uncle Sun.

Old Uncle Sun didn’t know anything about the Living Soil, but he had known of ruins with a pit such as the one Feng Ye described. Unfortunately, the map was not very precise, and Feng Ye had been forced to ask for directions when they unexpectedly ran into that mountain bandit duo.

Then, turning the tables on them, they had followed the bandits to those trap-filled underground ruins, where they experienced a series of unexpected events.

The ruins had been a trap, one the bandits had also been unaware of. They had lingered in the area solely for the sake of the treasure rumored to be found within.

Come to think of it, the supernatural phenomena they went through likely wasn’t the doing of Ling Yun and his demonic companion. Even if they had set a trap in advance, they couldn’t have arrived much sooner than Feng Ye and his companions, just after the debacle at Lingxiao Sword Sect had concluded.

Feng Ye fell deep into thought. Wang Wu had said they’d released a wild hare and a pheasant into the tunnel with a rope tied around their legs, but when they pulled them back out, all that remained were severed limbs.

This had a very simple explanation. It was likely the work of the skeletons trapped within the Grand Array. Powerful malevolent ghosts were not so easy to refine, and it was not the case that everyone who fell into the array ultimately transformed into one.

The Ghost Mask Priest of Western Qiang had practiced for decades, yet only managed to refine a total of eight.

Most of the time, the array failed. If not a single soul proved worthy of the title “malevolent ghost,” the array would remain sealed, and those failed specimens would be confined there forever, never to escape.

However, that Grand Array had decayed over the course of a millennium, and when their small group stirred it up again, the Ghost-Refining Array completely collapsed.

Now freed from the confinement of the array, those skeletons lay buried beneath the earth, and their resentment would slowly fade away with the passage of time. Their bones would turn to dust, and they would be reincarnated.

In a way, this was freedom.

Feng Ye’s thoughts shifted toward another matter: the bodies of the couple who had originally lived in that wooden cabin.

Wang Wu had said they’d buried the bodies in the hole at the entrance of the tunnel, but they had disappeared overnight, and the only thing remaining had been the gold bracelet on the wrist of the female corpse. There had been no footprints or signs of digging anywhere in the vicinity, and the soil over the burial site of the bodies remained undisturbed.

This was quite bizarre. Leaving aside the fact that the skeletons couldn’t escape from the array, even if they managed to do so, all they knew how to do was gnaw on the flesh of the living. It was highly unlikely that they would be able to execute such a complex series of actions, digging up the corpses and carrying them away, leaving the gold bracelet, and then erasing every trace of evidence.

Feng Ye’s brow furrowed. He was very experienced and knowledgeable, and had encountered plenty of bizarre beasts and dark creatures, but he was currently unable to make heads or tails of this situation. 

His gaze happened to fall upon Old Uncle Sun, who was chatting happily with Fang Yang at the front of the group. An herbalist who had spent years venturing into the mountains of Longqiu surely couldn’t be unaware of such supernatural phenomena. It was possible that Old Uncle Sun had more detailed information.

So Feng Ye cut into the conversation between the old man and Fang Yang to ask: “Old Uncle Sun, we just arrived and we’re complete strangers to this place. Would you be able to tell us a little more about it?”

Old Uncle Sun chuckled and acquiesced with ease: “No problem, ah. There aren’t many people who live around Longqiu, and the mountains and forests are vast. There are plenty of interesting places to explore.”

Before the old man could expound on the landscape of the area, Feng Ye cut in: “We’re particularly interested in stories about the supernatural. Will Old Uncle Sun tell us a few?”

“Stories about the supernatural, ah…..” Old Uncle Sun stroked his beard thoughtfully, then replied, “There are actually quite a few supernatural legends about Longqiu. It all pertains to the royal city buried underneath this very ground. You know about the Royal City of Western Qiang, right?”

All four of them nodded. While they hadn’t known about it originally, thanks to the information provided by those two mountain bandits and their own excursion into the underground ruins, they at least had a rudimentary understanding of the royal city.

“The royal city is roughly divided into four parts: north, south, east, and west. The north and south were home to the common people, but as for the east and west, the priests of Western Qiang resided in the western district. That’s the area you were in just now. From what I hear, that’s where the priests studied and practiced their arts.”

The priests of Western Qiang resided in the western district, so that was naturally where the ghost-refining array was located. Feng Ye already knew this, but he kept his silence and continued to listen.

“I was actually a little worried when I saw you were in the western ruins, because those ones are haunted. You can always hear sounds coming from underground at night, like something is trying to crawl its way out. You fellows spent the night there, you didn’t encounter anything like that, did you?” Old Uncle Sun asked.

None of them answered right away. The things shuffling around underground, trying to claw their way out of the soil, were precisely the skeletons they had encountered and battled against.

Neither Fang Yang nor Cao Zirui could lie worth a damn, so Feng Ye took the lead and answered with a smile: “We didn’t see anything. Just a few wolves.”

“That’s good.” Reassured, Old Uncle Sun continued: “As for the eastern district, those are the ruins we’re heading toward. We’re actually almost there. It’s the area where sacrifices to the gods were made, specifically the serpent god the people of Western Qiang worshipped: Naga.”

“You don’t hear any sounds beneath this place, but it’s even more terrifying than the others.” Old Uncle Sun donned an exaggerated expression and lowered his voice: “In the soil here…..are man-eating monsters.”

There were…..man-eating monsters in the soil?

Fang Yang and Cao Zirui exchanged a disbelieving look. There had been man-eating skeletons back in the ruins, and now there were more man-eating monsters in the soil? They looked down at the ever-present dirt beneath their feet, and suddenly didn’t know where to step.

Feng Ye frowned deeply. Could those man-eating monsters in the earth have something to do with the Living Soil?

Hao Chen also narrowed his eyes upon hearing this, waving his fan as he observed the soil around them. The vegetation growing upon it was lush and vibrant, teeming with life. There was absolutely no trace of resentful energy.

There didn’t seem to be anything unusual…..unless the entity’s power was greater than his own, allowing it to disguise itself right before his eyes.

But that was practically impossible. What sort of resentful creature could possibly rank higher than a righteous god of the heavenly realm?

Fearing that they didn’t believe him, Old Uncle Sun went on to add: “Back then, the tradition around here was to bury the dead. Deceased loved ones would be buried under the mountains and hills of Longqiu, and people would visit the tombstones from time to time to pay their respects.”

“There were never any problems with the custom of earth burial, because once something is buried, it isn’t dug up easily. But six or seven hundred years ago, somewhere around that time, there was a family whose old man passed away.”

“Their family was a prominent one, and had no shortage of gold, silver, and jade. So when they laid the old man to rest, they placed a considerable amount of wealth inside the grave as offerings. But in the short month after the old man was buried, the family business went from bad to worse. It’s hard to say whether this was due to mismanagement or another reason entirely.”

“But the head of the household listened to the advice of a feng shui master and was convinced that the family’s misfortune was entirely due to the ill-chosen location of the family’s ancestral grave. So even though he had only been buried for a month, they prepared to relocate the old man’s resting place.”

“Casually disturbing our ancestors is considered a terrible disrespect here, and no one had ever committed such an outrageous act as digging up a corpse. But solely for the sake of the family business, the family head steeled his heart and resolved to dig up his own father’s grave.”

“Everyone condemned him as unfilial, but they were unable to dissuade him, and everyone gathered to watch on the day the grave was to be relocated. But exhuming the grave turned up something completely bizarre: the corpse was already gone.” Old Uncle Sun spread his hands.

“How could the body have disappeared?” He had just reached the most exciting part, and Fang Yang urged him on.

Old Uncle Sun already regarded Fang Yang as his own grandson. He smiled warmly at him and continued unhurriedly: “The entire matter was simply outlandish. In addition to the corpse, even the nanmu coffin and the silk lining inside it had vanished completely.”

“Everything was gone?” Fang Yang asked at once. “Even the gold and silver?”

“I was just getting to that,” said Old Uncle Sun. “Everything was gone except for the gold and silver, which remained untouched exactly where it lay. That was the most astonishing part of the whole affair. When everyone first saw that the coffin was gone, they assumed it was the work of degenerate grave robbers.”

“But the gold and silver still lay buried, so it couldn’t have been grave robbers. What grave robber would leave behind perfectly good gold and silver, and make away with the corpse and coffin instead?”

“Nobody could make sense of the situation, so they reported it to the authorities. Government officials arrived to investigate, but they turned up nothing, and the matter became an unsolved case. But as luck would have it, not long after that incident, another corpse disappeared.”

“This time, the body belonged to a newlywed bride who died only a day after her marriage, and was buried with haste. The husband’s family claimed she had died of sudden illness, but how could her own family believe such nonsense? Their treasured daughter was gone so suddenly, so they ignored all taboos and had the coffin opened so that the authorities could examine the body and determine the cause of death.”

“Quite a large crowd gathered again on the day the coffin was exhumed, and what do you think happened? Just like the first time with the old man, the body and coffin had vanished completely. All that remained was the jade bracelet the bride had brought from her maiden home, still buried right where it had been left.”

“The body had only been buried for a day, and the fact that it had vanished so completely didn’t seem to be the work of human hands. Everyone grew more panicked the longer they considered this, and some went straight to their families’ burial grounds to dig open the graves and take a look.”

“And upon digging up the ancestral graves they paid respects to every year, they found that unbeknownst to them, they had all been emptied. The remains and the coffins of their ancestors were gone, leaving nothing behind but a few burial items.”

“More and more people began to dig up coffins, especially those buried in the western ruins of the royal city. The situation was the same everywhere: the bodies were all gone, but the gold and silver was completely untouched. There were no signs that the graves had been dug up before, but the corpses had indeed vanished.”

“The rumors surrounding the incident became more and more outlandish, and everyone claimed that some kind of corpse-eating monster lurked beneath the soil. Ever since that incident, no one has dared to bury their loved ones in the soil again, fearing that their remains will be eaten without a single bone left behind. That’s why we eventually switched to cremation around here. Being reduced to ash is far better than being consumed.”

Old Uncle Sun’s story came to a close, and nobody spoke.

Fang Yang and Cao Zirui were a little slower than Feng Ye to come to the same conclusion, but they soon realized that this matter was identical to that of the couple buried by the mountain bandits.

In both incidents, the bodies had vanished into thin air with no traces of being dug up, only gold and silver left behind at the scene.

Valuable gold, silver, and jade ornaments…..Feng Ye stroked his chin as he thought.

Wait. Perhaps he was focusing on the wrong aspect. The point wasn’t the value of the gold and silver, but the fact that such metals were difficult to digest.

The corpses, the wooden coffins, and even the silken shrouds covering the bodies were all easily consumed, but the gold and silver were not.

The hard metal was difficult to break down, so it was all left where it lay.

But that didn’t quite answer the question either. It made sense that it wasn’t eaten, but why leave it sitting there completely untouched?

Surely it should have been moved at least a little bit. What exactly was going on here?

Feng Ye stared blankly at the soil beneath his feet.

While he was lost in thought, Old Uncle Sun suddenly pointed to a pit in front of them and said: “We’re here. These are the ruins you’re looking for. The ones with the massive pit.”

They had covered quite a distance as they talked, and before they knew it, they had reached their destination.

The site of the Living Soil.

The Living Soil that replicated itself endlessly……

At once, a spark of inspiration flared in Feng Ye’s mind. The man-eaters may not necessarily be creatures lurking in the soil, but the Living Soil itself. Could it be that it was able to digest…..

Faintly suspicious, Feng Ye glanced toward the ruins ahead. And that glance left him rooted to the spot.

There was no longer any room for doubt. He was right.

This place was…..

“Nine-Step Cliff,” Old Uncle Sun introduced to the group.

Before them lay a pit around thirty meters in diameter. Judging by its smoothness, it was likely not a natural formation, but the result of manual labor.

This pit was about ten meters deep, much shallower than the ruins they had descended into previously. There was also no network of tunnels beneath the pit. It was simply a large indentation dug into the ground.

At a glance, one could see lush green grass growing at the bottom. A stone platform jutted out at the cliff’s edge, directly over the center of the pit below. It wasn’t wide, barely big enough for one person to walk across, and it only measured about six or seven meters long.

It would be a stretch to call it a bridge, as it only spanned a third of the way across the pit, leaving one wondering what it could possibly be used for.

“Nine-Step Cliff? Why is it called that?” Despite having just heard an incredible story, the sight of something new immediately snagged Fang Yang’s attention.

“As the name suggests, it’s because it only takes nine steps to the edge,” said Uncle Sun, gesturing to the protruding platform.

“Only nine steps? I’ll go try it out!” Fang Yang was both insatiably curious and profoundly adventurous. He wanted to see for himself whether it only took nine steps to cross that stone platform.

He was also very decisive, and had already darted forward before Old Uncle Sun could get a word in edgewise.

However, before he could set foot on Nine-Step Cliff, Feng Ye extended an arm to bar his path.

Fang Yang was caught completely off guard, and slammed into it with enough force to leave his chest aching.

He rubbed his chest and started to question Feng Ye, but Feng Ye wasn’t even looking at him. He was staring at Nine-Step Cliff, his expression inexplicably grave.

He seems to be familiar with this Nine-Step Cliff, Hao Chen thought.

He felt his own curiosity rise. What exactly was so special about this place?

Just then, Uncle Sun belatedly explained: “It’s a good thing he stopped you. You shouldn’t casually walk across Nine-Step Cliff.”

“Why?” asked Fang Yang.

“Because nine is the final number. In the worldview of Western Qiang, nothing lies beyond the number nine. After those nine steps to the edge of the platform lies a dead end, nothingness…..death.” Old Uncle Sun stroked his beard with a sigh. “What do you think this pit was originally used for?”

“Used for?” Fang Yang asked blankly, completely stumped by this explanation.

“It was a snake pit.” Old Uncle Sun sighed deeply. “The bottom is covered with green grass now, but a thousand years ago, it was teeming with venomous snakes.”

“The people of Western Qiang attached great importance to sacrificial rites. Their method of making sacrifices to the serpent god was to push the offerings onto Nine-Step Cliff. After nine steps, they would plummet to the bottom, and if they didn’t die from the fall, they would be bitten to death and devoured by venomous snakes.”

Push the offerings onto Nine-Step Cliff…..this meant that they must have been living offerings, and nine strides across the platform didn’t match the gait of four-legged beasts. So then…..

Fang Yang’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Old Uncle Sun confirmed Fang Yang’s guess: “Those pushed onto Nine-Step Cliff were all living people, ah.”

---

Consider donating via Kofi here.

Chapter 111 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 113

T/N: So sorry for the wait! It’s our busy season at work and it’s brutal this year.

---

Inside the hall, fires burned brightly in their braziers.

Clad in crimson-purple robes, Chu Jiubian rose from within the ranks of the vassal kings, each wearing their ceremonial court robes, and strode to the center of the grand hall. He then ascended a single step, taking his place on the same raised platform as Qin Xiao.

Chu Jiubian turned to look out at the crowd of students below.

Students of every other subject had already begun their exams. Only the agriculture students remained sitting motionless in their seats, their gazes cast slightly downward, not daring to lift them.

Seated in the very first row was none other than Zhang Er, who was ranked third overall in the current standings.

Information regarding these students had long since been sent to the palace, so Chu Jiubian knew these people like he knew the back of his hand.

Take Zhang Er for example. This man was a commoner through and through, and his family could even be described as impoverished.

Yet he truly was a master farmer. His family’s land yielded the highest output each year, but the reason his family still went hungry was that back during his father’s generation, a wealthy elite surnamed Qiu, hailing from the county seat, had seized the vast majority of their family’s farmland and left them with a mere three or four mu of land.

It all began when Zhang Er’s father, taking advantage of the off-season, went to work as a day laborer in Lord Qiu’s estate.

Lord Qiu, knowing that the Zhang family were skilled farmers and that their land was fertile enough to yield a massive quantity of the finest grain each year, began to harbor malicious designs.

Taking advantage of Father Zhang’s illiteracy, he used what was said to be a short-term labor contract to trick him into affixing his thumbprint to several documents.

Those documents stated that the Zhang family had voluntarily surrendered their land to Lord Qiu, and had even agreed to cultivate his fields for oppressively meager wages.

This land was precisely that which had previously belonged to the Zhang family.

During the first year, Zhang Er’s father remained ignorant and diligently farmed alongside his family.

However, shortly after the crops were harvested, Lord Qiu suddenly arrived with a troop of guards and several donkey carts, and forcibly seized a vast quantity of the Zhang family’s grain.

The villagers dared not provoke the Qiu family,  yet neither could the head of the Zhang family allow his loved ones to be bullied in such a manner. So immediately after Lord Qiu departed, he took Zhang Er’s father and grandfather, along with some elders with status and capability, to the county seat.

The group then proceeded to the magistrate’s office to beat the drum and petition for justice.

Zhang Er’s father was given twenty strokes with a heavy plank, and only then was his group allowed an audience with the magistrate to present their petition.

The magistrate summoned Lord Qiu, and in the main hall, both sides took turns presenting their version of events.

Lord Qiu had in his possession a written contract bearing the thumbprint of Zhang Er’s father, which stated in plain terms that the land in question had been voluntarily gifted by the Zhang family to Lord Qiu, and that they had agreed to farm it for him on a long-term basis for very low wages.

As things stood, the most they could claim was that Lord Qiu had merely fallen behind on paying the Zhang family.

The terms were set down in black and white, and even if the county magistrate had wished to help the Zhang family, he would have been powerless to do so. But given that the magistrate was already in league with Lord Qiu, the matter was quietly glossed over, with the sole stipulation that Lord Qiu settle the wages owed to the Zhang family.

In a casual gesture, Lord Qiu handed over the wages, which amounted to only a few dozen coins.

Thus, in the end, the Zhang family received nothing more than those few dozen coins and twenty strokes of the plank.

In the eyes of the nobles and powerful elites, so-called justice and law amounted to nothing in the end.

This was not the first instance, and it was certainly not the last. The wealthy landowners throughout Great Ning had almost all risen through such means.

The common people found themselves with no one to turn to for help, and had no choice but to endure being exploited day in and day out.

Those like Zhang Er, however, who were both capable and ambitious, fared slightly better.

In a mere dozen or so years, he was accompanied by his older brother to farm, do odd jobs, and occasionally venture into the mountains to hunt, which allowed them to expand their previous three or four mu of land to its current size of seven mu. Then, after the Imperial Court instated the Imperial Examinations, he resolutely sold three mu of land to raise the necessary funds and embarked on his own journey to take the exams.

When news of his success in the exams reached the county seat some time ago, the aging county magistrate and Lord Qiu were both thrown into a panic.

Yet they dared not move against him in response. After all, back when the first round of Imperial Examinations began, officials from the palace had arrived to issue a dire warning: no one was permitted to lay a hand on these scholars, and the penalty for doing so would be an unmerciful execution.

They trampled the local community under their feet, yet when confronted with representatives from the palace, they naturally dared not breathe a word. All they could do was pray that those they had once oppressed would fail in their endeavor.

But the very thing they feared most became reality. Hadn’t this Zhang Er just climbed straight to the top?

Chu Jiubian didn’t send anyone to deal with Lord Qiu or the county magistrate.

In a matter such as this, it was better to allow Zhang Er to take his revenge personally.

And during the Palace Examination today, the questions Chu Jiubian posed to these agriculture students had much to do with such a topic.

He even used the same ‘land’ and the same ‘people.’

“All agriculture students, please step forward.” Chu Jiubian wore no expression on his face, his appearance distant and aloof, but his tone was somewhat gentler than usual.

These students were seeing Chu Jiubian for the first time, and with the knowledge that he was Grand Tutor Chu, the very man who had proposed these Imperial Examinations in the first place, they naturally felt a deep reverence toward him.

The dozen or so people stepped forward and came to a stop a few meters away from Chu Jiubian. All of them kept their heads lowered and didn’t dare look him directly in the face.

Behind them stood the sixty-five tables and chairs, along with the other students already answering their problems.

Built into the Palace Examinations was a procedure wherein the Emperor and high-ranking officials would verbally pose questions to the students, so everyone was mentally prepared and had also been privately informed.

From start to finish, these agriculture students had faced examinations conducted entirely in such a “question-and-answer” format, and were naturally very familiar with the procedure. As the first group to step forward, they managed to maintain a remarkably composed demeanor that belied their inner nervousness.

With the exception of the students, the eyes of everyone else within the hall fell upon those dozen or so able-bodied farmers.

Even wearing fine, proper attire, they looked nothing like high-ranking officials or the wealthy elite, nor even military officers. Their weathered skin and coarse, sun-bleached hair gave them an unmistakably rustic and weather-beaten look that was obvious at first glance.

Such were the lowly common folk.

Chu Jiubian: “For this round of the examinations, I will pose two questions for you.”

“The first question: what, in your view, constitutes the ‘people?’”

“The second question: what constitutes the ‘land?’”

He didn’t use any lofty language, and instead spoke in plain, easy-to-understand terms.

The students understood perfectly well, but weighed the matter inwardly, certain that the Grand Tutor was not seeking the most obvious of answers.

Zhang Er also furrowed his brow in thought.

Throughout the examination process, the questions asked by the examiners were all about the process of farming, such as cultivating crops and controlling disease in the plants. However, they also included supplementary questions such as “what would you do if your land was maliciously encroached upon?”

The supplementary questions didn’t give them many points, but Zhang Er had managed to figure out the trick of it.

He felt that Grand Tutor Chu might have been dropping hints to these agriculture students from the very beginning, and that they were to reflect upon the relationship between ordinary commoners like themselves and the wealthy landowners in regard to land.

At present, his suspicions were confirmed when he heard the two questions posed by the Grand Tutor.

He had long since formulated a plan for these two problems, but considering the previous problems given to the Classical Studies, Mathematics, and Criminal Justice students, he felt that he ought to present a more comprehensive response.

“I’ll give you an incense stick’s time to think. After that, you may present to me your answers,” said Chu Jiubian.

The students agreed in unison.

For the span of one incense stick’s time, the hall remained hushed, the silence broken only by the occasional rustle of fabric, the grinding of ink, and the turning of pages.

Chu Jiubian stood just where he was, his gaze sweeping down upon everyone present from on high.

Today’s Imperial Examination was not just for the purpose of elevating the names of these scholars. He also sought to convey to these powerful noble families and vassal kings that the ruler currently seated on the throne was no longer the incompetent Chengzong nor the ineffectual Yingzong, and that Bai Lihong and Qin Xiao were no longer as isolated and helpless as they had been when they first secured the throne.

At this moment in time, they possessed the capability and necessary capital to make enemies of these people.

They intended to put pressure on these powerful families and vassal kings, to bring them into close proximity and force them to action. Only when they were anxious would more mistakes be made.

Of course, if they were to truly take up arms and rebel, Chu Jiubian would get exactly what he wanted.

Qin Xiao rose from his seat and took a step toward Chu Jiubian, but didn’t close the distance between them.

The two of them stood nearly three meters apart, clad in identical deep crimson-purple robes. One appeared stern and imposing, while the other seemed detached and aloof.

Two steps behind them, Bai Lihong sat cutely on the Dragon Throne, his clear, bright eyes gazing out over the crowd below.

Minister of Revenue Su Sheng raised his eyes and suddenly felt disoriented as he took in this scene.

He thought back to that early morning with its ceaseless drizzle.

When the palace gates slowly parted, the long blades of the Imperial Guards rose and fell, and the heads of those two noble sons rolled across the ground.

Amidst the lingering scent of blood, he had stood along with the other officials below the long steps outside Fengtian Hall. And, as he gazed upward, he beheld a scene almost identical to the one before him now.

The only difference was that this time, Qin Xiao and Chu Jiubian were accompanied by the young Emperor and had their sharp edges on display ever so slightly. This was also their first true declaration of war against the noble families. 

And this time, Chu Jiubian and company were preparing to make their move.

Minister of Personnel Xiao Huaiguan swept his clouded gaze over the two figures standing atop the steps, then slowly looked away.

For a rare, fleeting moment, his mind was clear.

He recalled the conversation he’d had with Family Head Xiao Yao some time ago, when the other man had nearly killed himself to escape his addiction to mandala and impressed upon him how addictive the substance truly was.

But Xiao Huaiguan paid him no mind. He felt that he had little time left anyway, and after consuming the substance, he felt remarkably invigorated in comparison to his previous feeble and decrepit state.

But now…..

He looked toward Jiannan-wang, clad in his princely ceremonial robes. The young man sat with an upright posture, but he was even more frail than Anhuai-wang sitting beside him.

How could such frail shoulders bear the weight of the Xiao family’s future?

How could they possibly bear the weight of the entirety of Great Ning?

Xiao Huaiguan ponderously turned his gaze toward the young scholars once more, somewhat dazed.

Among those people, he seemed to see his younger self.

He had been just as high-spirited as them back then, clashing head-on against the young Wang Zhiyuan in the Imperial Court.

He and Wang Zhiyuan had been at odds, intent on crushing each other, but at some point that he couldn’t quite remember, they had deviated from their original goals.

But that wasn’t right either.

Perhaps, from the very beginning, they had been nothing like these students.

Their mouths spoke of the common people and the nation, but their hearts and eyes contained only themselves, as well as the families and glory at their backs.

His throat bobbed, and a tingling sensation slowly welled up in his chest.

His mind drifted again.

Xiao Huaiguan didn’t have the wherewithal to contemplate the matter further. Instead, he drew an unknown object from his sleeve and pushed it between his lips.

A peculiar taste diffused in his mouth, and he closed his eyes on a deep exhale.

An incense stick of time passed quickly, and as the first rays of dawn streamed from the horizon into the great hall, an agriculture student stepped half a pace forward and bowed, saying: “Answering Your Majesty and the Grand Tutor, this student is ready to answer.”

His voice broke the pervading hush once more.

Chu Jiubian nodded: “Please speak.”

The student was indeed well-prepared, and spoke eloquently: “This student is from the countryside, and possesses no understanding of grand principles. But this student understands that the millions upon millions of common people in Great Ning are all citizens of our nation.”

“And what they trod beneath their feet and hold in their hearts, what grows the food that fills their stomachs, is the land.”

This student was still somewhat nervous, his voice trembling as he spoke, but his delivery became smoother as he went on.

“Just as there are differences between the people, some high and some low, some good and some bad, so too does the land vary in quality. Good land…..”

He was most familiar with the land, after all, and thus chose it as his focal point. This was a clever move.

His words were plain-spoken and easy to understand, and although he tried his best to infuse his word choices with the air of a scholar, his speech still sounded “coarse” to the ears of these powerful, educated people.

Yet their hearts hung like heavy weights in their chests. They seemed to have understood something, but at the same time, they couldn’t quite grasp what it was.

This feeling only grew after the next dozen or so students took turns giving their answers.

Their expressions were solemn as they gazed upon these agriculture students, scarcely able to believe that before now, they had been nothing more than ordinary commoners who worked with their faces to the soil and their backs to the sky.

Although these people’s word choices might be disorganized and crude, the content of those words embodied simple, easy-to-understand principles.

Principles that those of them in the audience didn’t seem to have truly grasped.

For example, what that student said in the beginning: “Just as there are differences between the people, some high and some low, some good and some bad.” But while the land was easy to understand, people were not.

The land could be used to grow food in various ways for a bountiful harvest.

That was not the case for people.

Those with power and influence would only grow in power, but no matter how the common people strove upward, it remained exceedingly difficult for them to transcend the boundaries of class.

At last, Chu Jiubian turned his gaze toward Zhang Er, who had remained silent this entire time.

Zhang Er stepped forward at that moment and said: “Answering Your Majesty and My Lord. This student feels that the ‘people’ refers to himself, and that the ‘land’ is his very roots.”

Chu Jiubian raised an eyebrow.

The students who went first seemed to have been influenced by the first student, and trended toward placing a greater emphasis on topics such as farming methods.

For agriculture students, this couldn’t really be considered as going off-topic.

But these words from Zhang Er were something entirely different, and he could only wonder what this scholar who had scored third place overall in the Imperial Examinations would say next.

It was unknown if he had understood what Chu Jiubian was trying to tell them in the supplementary questions he posed during the previous rounds of the examination

As it turned out, Zhang Er had grasped it perfectly.

He began: “This student’s hometown is Zhangma Village in Anchang County, Sui’an Prefecture. My family comes from generations of farmers, rooted in the soil and seeking nothing more than basic sustenance. But during this student’s early childhood, his father was deceived by a local despot, Boss Qiu…..”

Zhang Er referred to himself in every sentence he uttered, but it was as he had said from the beginning – he was the ‘people,’ and the people were him.

And as he spoke of himself, was he not also speaking of the millions of common people just like him throughout Great Ning who were struggling to survive?

He claimed that the land was his roots, but that those roots had been maliciously severed and seized.

Almost everyone present had a claim to intelligence, so they naturally grasped the underlying meaning in his words.

This Zhang Er was not just speaking out to find justice for the wrongs committed against himself, but also as a voice of indignation on behalf of all the common people suffering in this world. This was exactly what Chu Jiubian and his faction had wanted to hear.

They sought to use the voices of the common people to initiate the process of redistributing the land.

Land was not only the very roots of the common people, but also one of the foundations propping up all of the wealthy and powerful families.

If these “roots” were returned to the common people, those noble families would suffer a devastating blow. But they nonetheless found themselves unable to resist this trend, because this was the will of the people.

Should the remarks delivered during today’s Palace Examination be spread outside, the common people would unite with unprecedented solidarity in order to reclaim what rightfully belonged to them.

At this moment, these powerful and influential people finally realized what they had failed to grasp earlier, a piece of common sense that should have already been engraved in their bones: never underestimate the common people.

While they spoke lofty words about the “hearts of the people,” they were much more concerned about their own reputations, and used this to seize the moral high ground while manipulating the common people into attacking their political enemies.

Now, they finally had a clear understanding of what their predecessors called the “common aspirations of the people.”

The common people possessed ideals and aspirations just the same as everyone else. They were living, breathing human beings made of flesh and blood, just like these privileged elites!

They too would rise up in pursuit of their own interests.

The looks everyone sent toward Chu Jiubian grew increasingly deep and complex, with a hint of awe.

This was the mind of a god. He never instilled the idea of “suppressing the powerful families” in the minds of the common people, but simply guided them step by step to decide for themselves who their enemies were.

Minister of War Lu Youwei lowered his eyes and clenched his fists tightly, the faint sense of urgency within him surging in intensity.

It was time to act.

Many others shared this opinion, including several of the vassal kings seated at the very front.

Huguang-wang and Dongjiang-wang wore solemn expressions.

They were different from these powerful noble families, in that they governed their own fiefdoms and understood very well how powerful the common people truly were.

But they saw clearly now that the standing of the Imperial Family in the hearts of the common people had begun to rise very noticeably. Once the content of today’s Palace Examination got out, the common people would hold the Imperial Court in even higher esteem and trust it even more.

This was truly unfavorable for the vassal kings.

It was no longer possible for them to stand by while the Imperial Court won over the hearts of the common people. If things continued in this direction, they would never again have the opportunity to lay claim to that supreme Imperial Throne.

They wouldn’t even be able to hold onto their positions as vassal kings.

Chu Jiubian and Qin Xiao didn’t seem like magnanimous people who would tolerate the continued existence of the vassal kings, and would inevitably find a way to move against them.

In that case, they ought to quickly devise their own plans.

Of course, the expression of Minister of Justice Qiu Heng was even grimmer than those of these outsiders.

The “Boss Qiu” whom Zhang Er spoke of was a member of his own clan. Although they had long since become so distantly related that they were practically strangers, they still fell within the scope of the same family.

Although the other party’s actions didn’t involve the branch of the Qiu family in the capital, if Qin Xiao and Chu Jiubian were to grasp this opportunity, their Qiu family would be the first to stick their heads out! They would be punished as a warning to others!

The Qiu family had already lost their control over the waterway system, and if they were to be dragged down by this affair as well, losing more in the process…..

Qiu Heng’s brow furrowed.

They could no longer afford to wait. They must prepare in advance to completely sever ties with Chu Jiubian’s faction.

When he was done with his speech, Zhang Er bowed deeply and said: “This student has concluded his response.”

Chu Jiubian swept his gaze over the grim expressions in the audience, and the corners of his lips quirked up ever so slightly as he said: “Very good.”

Once the agriculture students retook their seats, the needlework and medicine students submitted their work. Xiao Xiangzi and Xiao Yuzi placed them on trays and brought them for Chu Jiubian and Qin Xiao to inspect first.

Qin Xiao paced over to Chu Jiubian’s side. Without needing to speak a word, the two of them worked in tandem to determine the rankings and place the works in the proper order.

Finally, Hong Fu handed these arranged trays up to Bai Lihong, letting him be the one to determine the final rankings.

The engineering and mathematics students soon finished their examinations as well, and their rankings were established.

After receiving the blueprint drawings from the engineering students, Chu Jiubian looked toward Yan Rui again.

Having been tasked with modifying the existing plow, he had actually designed a curved-shaft plow, demonstrating a truly extraordinary talent.

No wonder he and Situ Zhaoyao were already on such good terms. They really did seem to have a lot in common.

Next came the criminal justice students.

These students all came from well-off families, and were likewise educated.

The most eye-catching among them was a middle-aged man named Gu Fang. He was tall, slender, and bearded, and his refined and delicate features gave him the unmistakable air of a scholar.

But his eyes were exceptionally dark and keen, exuding a sense of pressure when looked at directly.

Chu Jiubian recalled that this man originated from Chuanxi Prefecture, and was the legitimate second son of a scholarly family residing in the fiefdom of Pingxi-wang Bai Lizheng.

He had an older brother above him and a younger brother below, yet he was the most favored son.

His family had urged him to serve under Bai Lizheng, which would benefit the clan greatly. But he stubbornly insisted on heading to the capital for the Imperial Examinations, to become a dignified official through his own merits and serve the common people.

Unable to stop him, his family members could only send a group of guards along with him.

This man had caused quite a stir when he first arrived in the capital.

And the answers he submitted were indeed to Qin Xiao and Chu Jiubian’s liking.

The law must be applied harshly in times of turmoil. Although the current times didn’t quite qualify as such, petty crooks prowled the streets and the powerful and privileged ran rampant. Thus, only the harshest measures could compel these individuals to behave.

Among the other students’ papers, there were no objections to how the mandala case was handled, and it was unanimously agreed upon that Qin Xiao had every right to simply cut down the offenders.

But this was only because the “correct answer” had already been established. Therefore, in order to avoid offending Qin Xiao, the students had no choice but to answer in such a way, even if some among them might actually believe that Qin Xiao had gone too far.

And when faced with the question of how to handle corrupt officials, the other students gave fairly conservative answers.

The sole exception was Gu Fang, who despite his mild-mannered and easygoing appearance, arrived at the conclusion that “the law does not discriminate, and corrupt officials all deserve to be executed.”

Qin Xiao looked toward the assembled students and asked: “Where is Scholar Gu?”

Hearing this, Gu Fang rose to his feet.

His seat was in the third row, and he bowed toward the front from a distance: “This student is here.”

Holding the exam paper, Qin Xiao asked: “This lord sees that you’ve written ‘the law does not discriminate.’ What should be done if a member of your own family commits a capital offense?”

Gu Fang said: “It should be handled impartially.”

He then added: “Rest assured, this student will keep his household in check and ensure that they don’t stir up trouble.”

His demeanor was solemn, and he didn’t seem to be speaking casually.

Qin Xiao swept his gaze over everyone present, then asked with a smile: “Then if the noble families, officials, and vassal kings within the court secretly harbor rebellious intentions, what should be done with them?”

Everyone’s hearts skipped a beat when they heard this.

They had only just begun contemplating rebellion, and Qin Xiao calling them out directly made them uneasy.

Gu Fang didn’t hesitate in the slightest: “Kill them without mercy.”

“Good.” Qin Xiao handed the exam paper to Hong Fu and instructed him to deliver it to Bai Lihong.

Such words from Gu Fang caused everyone to send him sidelong glances.

Zhen Mingzhao, the Minister of Dali Temple, as well as his son, Deputy Minister Zhen Fu, looked upon him with even more complexity in their gazes.

Ever since Chu Jiubian established ‘criminal justice’ as one of the examination subjects, they knew full well that it was aimed at their Dali Temple and the Ministry of Justice.

This Gu Fang’s words were simply radical, and he was likely the kind of person with incorruptible integrity.

If this man truly intended to interfere in criminal justice matters, this father and son would certainly find their hands tied at every turn.

Minister Zhen couldn’t help but look toward Minister of Revenue Su Sheng, his father-in-law, who was sitting up front.

The Zhen family had long been inextricably linked to the Su family, and everything came down to what path they chose to take from today onward.

Once Gu Fang finished his response and took his seat, only the students in the classics discipline remained.

Their task was a simple economic development question, and the students submitted their answers quickly, handing in their exam papers as soon as Gu Fang sat down.

Chu Jiubian and Qin Xiao read through them swiftly and discovered that the thoughts of these scholars were quite profound, with quite a bit of insight into the “mind of the emperor.”

There were fifteen of them in total, and not a single one of them kept their answer confined solely to the topic of economic development.

Instead, they supplemented the ‘economy’ with the current state of Great Ning, not only posing suggestions for economic growth, but describing the changes that would take place in Great Ning once that growth was achieved.

Each of their answers was very satisfactory.

But as expected, the most outstanding among them were the two great scholars Tan Ji and Yan Jinsheng, as well as the previously top-ranked Lu Yao and Tan Yuzhu.

The two great scholars answered in great detail, and the methods they proposed were highly feasible.

Yet Tan Yuzhu’s mind was more agile, and just as in the previous rounds of exams, her perspective was consistently unique.

Everyone else was discussing Great Ning’s economic system and proposing ways to increase internal development, but Tan Yuzhu wrote about the opening of trade routes.

This aligned perfectly with Chu Jiubian’s own thoughts.

“Tan Yuzhu,” said Chu Jiubian. “Please answer one more question.”

This wasn’t the first time he and Qin Xiao had added supplementary questions, so Tan Yuzhu wasn’t surprised in the least to be called upon.

Everyone turned to look at the fair, graceful woman as she rose calmly to her feet. She bowed deeply and said: “This student is here. Please state your question, My Lord.”

Her voice was clear and bright, her posture straight and firm. Her face was entirely composed, not betraying a hint of stage fright.

Chu Jiubian: “If you were ordered to go to the northern frontier and engage in trade with the Jurchen tribes, how would you proceed?”

Tan Yuzhu’s heart moved.

With the Imperial Court in turmoil, war was certain to erupt.

Under these circumstances, border security was the most important matter of all. So the Grand Tutor was not merely presenting a hypothesis. He genuinely intended to trade with the Jurchens and maintain peace for the time being.

And if she answered well, this responsibility might just fall to her.

Tan Yuzhu’s eyes lit up, and she spoke after briefly gathering her thoughts: “This student would establish a chamber of commerce in a city on the northern border and sell domestic goods such as silk, porcelain, foodstuffs, and tea to the Jurchens. Then, the proceeds would be used to purchase from them furs, horses, ginseng…..”

“The common people too would be able to sell their wares at the marketplace during monthly trade days, and those with surplus funds may even purchase goods from the Jurchen citizens…..”

“In the future, tariffs can also be enforced to ensure a suitable trade environment.”

Tan Yuzhu spoke with confidence and composure, her words painting a clear picture of the Northeast’s flourishing development.

She also cut herself off, refraining from publicly disclosing the details of her methods.

Like this, no one would be able to contend with her if Grand Tutor Chu did end up handing this matter over to her.

Of course, she did leave one point unspoken, something that Qin Xiao, Chu Jiubian, and other members of the court understood very well.

The Jurchen tribes had not fully united at this point in time, and it would be no exaggeration to describe them as a mound of loose sand.

At this juncture, Great Ning engaging in trade with them would not only improve the border economy, but also accelerate their integration.

The culture of Great Ning would gradually permeate into the Jurchen tribes and transform them.

If things continued to develop along this path, the Jurchen tribes would feel a sense of affinity toward Great Ning, and when the time came, Great Ning would be able to assimilate them without sacrificing a single soldier.

The powerful figures able to grasp this point grew increasingly astonished at the capability of these students.

Especially since this one was a woman, and her ability to form such insights was far superior to some of the unruly young masters in their own households.

Even those officials who were proud of their own intelligence felt their cheeks grow warm as they gazed at that slender figure.

If they were to answer this question themselves, perhaps they wouldn’t be able to rival the answer this teenaged girl provided.

The vassal kings also began to formulate calculations of their own.

The Jurchen tribes were indeed a force they had previously overlooked. They were situated in the Northeast and blocked off by Northern Zhili, so it was difficult for the vassal kings to make contact with them under normal circumstances.

However, should something go wrong on the Jurchen side that proved the Northeast Army to be as “powerless and useless” as the Northwest Army before it, then the nearby Northern Zhili would have no choice but to dispatch Qin Xiao to the battlefield once again.

And then, the capital would be left empty.

When Qin Xiao personally led an expedition to the Northwest before, neither the vassal kings nor the noble families had considered moving against the capital. They were so intent on eliminating Qin Xiao that they missed the opportunity to take the capital undefended.

But if they were given another opportunity, whether or not Qin Xiao returned victorious once more, they would first launch an assault on the vulnerable capital.

With the armies of the vassal kings outside and the noble families collaborating with them from within, even if Chu Jiubian did possess heavenly abilities, there was no way he could contend with them all. It would be impressive enough if he was even able to preserve Bai Lihong’s life.

Huguang-wang Bai Liyue cast a profound look toward Dongjiang-wang Bai Lihe next to him.

Their eyes met, then parted simultaneously.

The two brothers had always been at odds, but at this moment, they seemed to have reached some sort of mutual understanding.

Standing atop the high platform, Qin Xiao and Chu Jiubian naturally took in the responses from everyone below.

Sure enough, there was a reaction.

But this was by no means the end.

Chu Jiubian looked toward the young man who had thus far remained quietly in his seat, and said: “Lu Zicheng.”

Lu Yao had already made his preparations, and rose before bowing: “This student is here.”

“This official saw that you touched upon the national policies of Great Ning in your examination paper, but didn’t elaborate upon them,” Chu Jiubian said. “This is likely due to time constraints and limited paper, but this official is rather curious to hear your thoughts on the matter. Please elaborate on a detail or two.”

Lu Yao’s exam paper was eloquent and voluminous.

Chu Jiubian had asked him to address economic matters, but instead of limiting his focus, he had branched off into many issues that needed to be addressed across various domains, integrating all of these concepts into a cohesive whole.

For example, he extended his discussion of the economy into the livelihoods of the common people, then to land, to tax policy, and to the noble families and the governance of the Imperial Court. He also touched upon the policy of keeping the common people ignorant, reforms to the Imperial Examination system, and finally turned back to education, national policy, and similar topics.

It could be said that he included everything from politics and the economy to culture and technology.

It was only due to the time constraint that these passages were so brief, but even so, it was enough to allow a glimpse into the deep ravines of his heart.

Even Chu Jiubian, who had already known of his abilities, was taken aback.

If Chu Jiubian hadn’t already seen the prosperity of later generations and witnessed the rise and fall of history, he never could have imagined that someone was capable of such advanced and expansive thinking.

Lu Yao was someone with exceptional talent.

If this was a different setting, such a person would definitely be a protagonist who was capable of altering the entire course of the dynasty’s future!

If Chu Jiubian was astonished, then Qin Xiao, who wasn’t entirely familiar with Lu Yao’s ability, was even more so.

Qin Xiao gazed at the exam paper with a slight furrow to his brow, and read through the entire policy essay again.

With its literary flair and refined word choice, this was an essay that could be read and appreciated many times over. Were it to be published, it could be imagined how the scholars of the world would react.

Even these court officials had realized just what kind of monster Qin Xiao and Chu Jiubian had unleashed during these Imperial Examinations.

But it wasn’t entirely Lu Yao’s intellect that stunned Qin Xiao so. It was the fact that so many of the viewpoints and developmental strategies discussed in this policy essay were almost identical to those Chu Jiubian had raised to him at one point or another!

Chu Jiubian was dead set on fairness during these examinations, so Qin Xiao didn’t believe that he would have leaked the exam question to Lu Yao.

While he was amazed by the insight Lu Yao possessed at such a young age, he was even more impressed by how exceptional Chu Jiubian truly was.

This was for one simple reason – compared to what Lu Yao had written in his policy essay, the concepts Chu Jiubian had conveyed to them during their conversations were even richer and more advanced.

Although Chu Jiubian always claimed that his unique ideas and insights were all things he had observed in the immortal realm, it was his ability to integrate these concepts with Great Ning’s current state and devise a flawless plan of development that was his greatest strength.

Qin Xiao handed the essay to Hong Fu and instructed him to deliver it to Bai Lihong.

Bai Lihong had reviewed Lu Yao’s paper from the previous exam, and felt that this person wrote exceptionally well.

When he was handed this new exam paper now, he immediately set about reading it.

But Lu Yao had already begun to answer Xiansheng’s question down below, and Bai Lihong was unable to spare a thought for the essay as he pricked up his ears to listen to what Lu Yao had to say.

Lu Yao had already prepared a mental draft of the full essay as he was writing it, having anticipated that Chu Jiubian would call upon him. 

He needed to demonstrate his ability today, not just to elevate his own name and have a better chance of entering officialdom in the future, nor to deter these powerful figures and vassal kings, but to ensure that his words would influence the common people of Great Ning.

So what he needed now was not subtlety, but to aim the point of his sword directly at those powerful figures and vassal kings.

Thus, under the eyes of the crowd, he spoke: “The economic development of Great Ning is fraught with flaws from top to bottom. This student believes that this is generally due to land taxation, and even more so the scourge of the noble families annexing the land!”

---

T/N: I would not do well in an exam that requires public speaking. What a nightmare!

---

Consider donating via Kofi here.

Chapter 83 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 85

Ch 40 – Isn’t This Awkward?

Yu Xi wanted Tau to give up those TV dramas, but Tau refused.

“I thought you only liked to watch early childhood education programs.”

Yu Xi didn’t supervise what Tau read and watched each day. He respected human privacy. But how had Tau switched so quickly from early childhood education videos to melodramas?

“Am I just too oblivious to the passing of time? Why has your growth caught me so completely off guard?” Yu Xi felt that he needed to do some soul-searching.

“But those sorts of TV series are very good to watch.” Tau didn’t want Yu Xi to take them away.

Yu Xi thought for a moment, then said: “Do you want to fall in love?”

“No.” Tau shook his head.

“Actually…..” Kersz suddenly spoke up. “Tau might have a certain longing for that kind of affection.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Tau scowled.

“Tau hasn’t quite gotten to that point.” Yu Xi felt that Tau was a very peculiar human, and didn’t yet possess the capacity for love.

“Being ready for something and wanting it are two different things,” said Kersz. “Addiction to those kinds of stories often comes from a longing for human connection, but also worry about potential conflicts when spending time with others.”

“Stories like that always emphasize that sort of love again and again, love that doesn’t vanish even if the heavens were to crumble and the earth to shatter.”

When he finished speaking, Kersz noticed that both Yu Xi and Tau were staring at him.

“What? Are you surprised? Back when I was just starting to mature, I wanted things like that too, you know.” Kersz crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not like I jumped directly from childhood to how I am now.”

Yu Xi was indeed a bit surprised: “So you’ve also fantasized about having the passionate love of a domineering person?”

“It’s not that. I actually fantasized about becoming a brooding, enigmatic man, the kind who had suffered countless wounds and was a mystery to everyone.” Kersz shrugged. “The kind of man who’s aloof and never smiles.”

Tau: “Are you talking about the current you?”

Kersz: “I still smile.”

Tau disagreed: “Your smiles are fake.”

“Anyway, back then, I thought that wounded, mysterious people were super cool. I fantasized about encountering a powerful companion on my solitary journey, someone even stronger than myself, who was drawn to my solitary nature and inexplicably liked me.” Kersz continued, “They would see me as different from everyone else.”

Yu Xi nodded in strong agreement: “You are definitely different from everyone else.”

Kersz: …..

Yu Xi: “And I don’t know why, but in my eyes, you just keep becoming more and more special.”

Kersz: “Ah….huh?”

What was this? Wasn’t Yu Xi the very embodiment of the “immortal being” he had fantasized about in his childhood? How could such an absurd, romantic fantasy possibly be associated with Yu Xi?

Didn’t Yu Xi resemble that fantasy a little too much?

Yu Xi gazed intently into Kersz’s eyes, and Kersz seemed to see tiny flecks of light flickering within those cyan depths.

Kersz quickly looked away and changed the subject: “In short, Tau wants an intimate relationship.”

Tau: “What were you two doing in front of me just now?”

Kersz: “The focus is on you right now, not us.”

Tau suspected that Kersz wanted to change the subject.

Kersz continued: “You’re drawn to those fictional relationships because they feel safer to you.”

“No,” Tau denied. “Illegitimates don’t have such desires.”

Kersz raised an eyebrow.

Tau looked away from him, then took Xiao Konglong and went back to his room.

Yu Xi watched him go, and Kersz remained in place, marveling at the speed of Tau’s growth.

“You really should watch fewer horror movies,” Yu Xi told Kersz.

“Those things don’t scare me.” Kersz shrugged.

“Your heartbeat says otherwise.” Yu Xi felt that much of the time, Kersz was just putting on a brave face.

“Can you please refrain from monitoring my heartbeat next time?” Kersz asked helplessly.

“It sounds very beautiful.” Having said this, Yu Xi let out a despondent sigh. “Why do so many people badmouth you, ah?” He didn’t bring up deleting those comments again, but he really was very upset about it.

Yu Xi truly believed that Kersz’s actions had no chance of altering the current reality. Even if those high-and-mighty leaders were all killed, new ones would simply be elevated to take their place.

Kersz couldn’t change the quality of life of all of humanity.

No one could do that.

Humans would continue to strangle each other until the day arrived when someone shattered the barriers between human minds, using technology to forcibly tie those isolated islands together.

At that time, all human minds would merge, becoming one.

With no more preconceptions, everyone would understand one another.

The excitement and mystery in life would fade, but suffering would vanish too.

Before that, everyone was a tiny, singular island unto themselves, perceiving one another through distant observation and self-projection.

Somewhere amongst them was a volcano, and perhaps there were more on other distant islands.

Another lone island might be lush and verdant, likely teeming with life.

Yu XI mentioned this possibility to Kersz, but Kersz’s expression became somewhat troubled: “Are you saying that anyone would be able to look into my mind?”

“You would learn all their secrets too,” said Yu Xi.

“I refuse,” said Kersz. “I would rather die an ordinary person with my own biases.”

“Why?” Yu Xi didn’t understand. “Haven’t humans always strived for mutual understanding? It’s painful to not be understood.”

“I don’t need so many people to understand me. For me, pain is a very private matter.” Kersz didn’t need anyone to empathize with his suffering.

There was no need. Those were his parents, and nobody else’s.

Kersz was selfish. He had no intention of sharing the meager joys of his childhood, nor the parental love he’d received, because these things belonged to him alone.

For that reason, he was against allowing others to understand his pain.

That was something that belonged solely to him.

“Perhaps back then, there were people who thought the same way as you. Instead of choosing to walk toward the future alongside other humans, they clung to their cherished sentiments, to their biases, and remained in the past,” said Yu Xi.

“They were a bunch of old die-hards who hated progress.” Kersz smiled.

“But nobody can say that they were wrong.” Yu Xi sat down on the sofa.

Kersz could accept being insulted. He could accept those people using the most caustic language to mock him, but he could not accept sharing his past with anyone else.

“I can’t accept humans cursing at me.” Yu Xi momentarily put himself in the other’s shoes, and felt that Kersz was truly impressive. “If the day ever came that all of humanity was cursing me at the same time, I would probably burst into tears and explain to them why I turned out this way.”

Kersz smiled: “But none of them would listen.”

“I know. Because humans are islands, and they instinctively recoil from anything that heavy.” Yu Xi understood such principles, but didn’t know how to apply them. “But I would still try over and over to explain, hoping that everyone could empathize with my feelings and understand why I do what I do.” 

Kersz’s smile grew brighter.

“Am I very childish?” Yu Xi asked him.

“No.” Kersz shook his head. “Actually, I used to think that way myself. I wished that everyone in the world could empathize with my pain.”

Yu Xi’s eyes widened.

Kersz continued: “Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be much genuine empathy out there. Exposing your pain too freely will only give others something to use against you.”

“No one will ever love me the way my parents did. My pain and vulnerability would cause them distress…..they were so kind. So kind, in fact, that I believed that everyone else in this world would be just as tolerant of my vulnerability as they were.” Kersz sighed.

“I also feel distressed for you,” said Yu Xi.

“I know. But you’re different.” Kersz gave him a smile.

Yu Xi didn’t understand what was so different about him: “Am I not as tolerant?”

“You don’t need to be that tolerant.” Kersz explained, “You’re not my parents, and I don’t need to seek parental love through you…..that’s something I’ve already had. It was just taken from me way too soon.”

“I don’t want you to treat me like a child and indulge me.”

Yu Xi: “But I’ve lived longer than you.”

“I know.” Kersz rested his head on Yu Xi’s shoulder. “But I really don’t need parents anymore.”

Yu Xi sighed with a touch of regret.

“You’re great, but you’re not a replica of my past relationships,” Kersz said. “Ours is a brand-new kind of relationship.”

Yu Xi’s eyes widened: “Brand-new?”

“Brand-new.” Kersz nodded.

“Oh! I understand, we’re good friends!” Yu Xi said at once. “That’s right, my identity is different from that of your parents!”

Kersz paused briefly: “….Yeah, good friends.”

“You’re brand new to me, too – my first friend!” said Yu Xi.

Kersz started to smile, but then he noticed something about Tau’s door.

It wasn’t closed all the way.

Tau was eavesdropping.

“Tau really has been giving some thought to intimate relationships lately,” said Kersz.

Yu Xi: “Eh? Why are we suddenly talking about Tau?”

Tau shut the door tightly, then looked toward Xiao Konglong, who was equipped with an emotion module.

Xiao Konglong behaved like a living creature, but it was artificial.

Tau thought back to the conversation between Yu Xi and Kersz.

“A brand-new relationship,” Tau murmured.

“Daddy?” Xiao Konglong peered up at him.

Tau smiled.

Kersz had changed.

Tau could sense that he was much more relaxed.

He had always been tense in the past, as if at any moment, he might completely succumb to his worst instincts and descend into madness.

But when he was conversing with Yu Xi just now, he was so calm. So gentle.

Kersz must be living very comfortably lately.

It was somewhat jarring to Tau how comfortable Kersz seemed. It was so strange.

Kersz’s comfort made Tau feel uncomfortable.

There was a knock on the door. Tau rose to open it and found Yu Xi standing there.

“Are you okay?” Yu Xi asked him.

Tau nodded, then shook his head.

“Tau?” Yu Xi frowned slightly.

“My name isn’t Tau,” he said. “I’m number 152. My hair and eye color are fake, and so is my face.” He himself had nearly forgotten his original appearance.

“Do you dislike it when I call you Tau?” asked Yu Xi.

Tau shook his head: “I don’t.”

“Does my and Kersz’s behavior make you feel uncomfortable?” Yu Xi asked again.

The intimacy between the two of them really did make him feel uncomfortable, yet whenever they acted affectionately toward one another, he couldn’t help but steal a glance.

Tau wasn’t entirely sure what was going on in his mind.

He could only say that he didn’t feel sad.

Yu Xi chatted with him for a while longer before closing the door with a worried expression.

“Maybe I should hurry up and grab a new human,” he said.

Kersz didn’t understand Yu Xi’s thought process: “What do you need a new human for?”

Yu Xi hadn’t even managed to build a good relationship with Tau yet.

“I need one to set Tau up with,” said Yu Xi. “He clearly needs love.”

Kersz: “No, that’s taking too big a step.”

“True, a domineering CEO isn’t that easy to find.” Yu Xi sighed. He certainly couldn’t just kidnap a highly renowned business tycoon.

“What I mean is, throwing him straight into the dating pool is too big a step,” said Kersz.

“Why?” Yu Xi was puzzled.

“Because right now, he lacks the ability to develop an intimate relationship with anyone.” Kersz felt that Tau entering a romantic relationship was currently unrealistic.

Yu Xi: “He must have been friends with people when he played his roles in the past.”

“That was him analyzing their preferences and catering to them. He didn’t feel a thing toward them himself,” said Kersz.

Yu Xi looked even more troubled: “Raising humans is really difficult.”

“Illegitimates are particularly difficult to raise.” Kersz acknowledged Yu Xi’s point with a nod.

“It looks like I’ll have to become a more mature robot.” Yu Xi felt that at the very least, he had to make the humans following him perceive him as reliable.

“Mature?” Kersz asked.

Yu Xi nodded: “Like a family patriarch.”

*

*

The next day.

Yu Xi wore a long expression as Kersz cradled him in his arms.

“Do you remember how just yesterday, you said you were going to be more mature?” Kersz asked him.

The corners of Yu Xi’s mouth drooped, and he let out a huff.

“You can’t act like this when we meet that person later. He’s a human too, ah,” Kersz said helplessly.

“I don’t like that human. Why are you still communicating with him?” Yu Xi was very angry. “That Zaire isn’t a good human! I’m going to revoke his membership to the human race.”

“That’s a little extreme,” Tau said from the side.

“He’s not a good human! I hate seeing that smiling face of his.” Yu Xi kicked his legs a couple of times.

“The second I see him, I’m going to lift my leg just like this.” Yu Xi suddenly swung forward and executed a high kick. “I’ll dislocate his jaw with a single blow!”

A moment later, he let out an even more discontented huff.

Kersz cradled him in his arms, making sure to hold his legs very tightly.

Tau uncharacteristically spoke up on Yu Xi’s behalf: “Zaire is deeply entwined with the Supreme Governor’s family. Getting to know him won’t hurt.”

Yu Xi: “I want to buy something to drink.”

Kersz: “Nope.”

Tau felt that Kersz was going too far: “Why not? How can you not even let him have a drink?”

Kersz: “Because he’ll take a sip and spray it right into Zaire’s face.”

“He wouldn’t do that.” Tau didn’t believe that Yu Xi was so childish.

“He watched a documentary about archerfish yesterday.” Kersz steadfastly refused to buy Yu Xi a drink.

“What is an archerfish?” Tau asked Yu Xi.

Yu Xi: ……

“It’s a type of fish that spits jets of water to hunt insects along the shore,” said Kersz.

Yu Xi huffed again: “He can count himself lucky.”

Tau: ?

So Yu Xi was actually planning to do that?

Yu Xi was thoroughly displeased, and looked absolutely fury.

“Actually, you can overlook the fact that Zaire hates the ‘space pirate Kersz.’ He really likes you, after all,” said Kersz. “You can’t just go around calling him a bad person. He’s actually quite good with children. He’s just a little vain, that’s all.”

“And everyone has a vain streak,” Kersz reassured him.

“I know.” Yu Xi was perfectly capable of accepting human vanity. He just couldn’t accept Zaire.

Tau: “The schooling of his older siblings is entirely taken care of by the High Lord’s family, and there’s no logical reason why he shouldn’t be allowed to attend school as well. Either he made some sort of sacrifice, or he just wasn’t cut out for academics, but in any case, he can hardly be considered a success within his range of society. Consequently, he is even more driven to latch onto something that proves his worth.”

“Are you defending him?” Yu Xi asked Tau.

Tau shook his head: “I just thought that once you realized he’s just someone lacking a backbone, not some kind of menacing villain, that you might feel a little better.”

“My mood has not improved.” Yu Xi was still angry. “But it might if you buy me a drink.”

He was going to blast a jet of water straight into that man’s eyes.

Tau: …..

“I’m a robot created by the ancient humans before they left Earth. I’ve witnessed countless horrific conflicts the likes of which you can’t even imagine,” Yu Xi claimed fiercely.

“Zaire has no idea who he’s up against. I’m going to make him experience firsthand the AI crisis that struck terror into the hearts of the ancient humans and show him just how scary robots can be.” Yu Xi gritted his teeth.

Tau: “No AI crisis has ever involved robots attacking humans with a mouthful of water.”

Yu Xi ignored him, feeling that Tau didn’t know anything.

He was ready to strike at a moment’s notice. The instant Kersz let his guard down even slightly, Yu Xi would launch a fierce attack against Zaire.

He would show absolutely no mercy to this short-sighted human.

Kersz held Yu Xi a little tighter.

Yu Xi had been constantly revising his method of attack, but when he actually laid eyes on Zaire, he didn’t know how to begin.

That detestable human Zaire…..had actually brought a child along?

A fresh human who looked to be only around six years old.

“This is my little nephew.” Zaire introduced the child in his arms to Kersz.

Yu Xi’s eyes were fixed intently on that child.

Heavens! Zaire was truly a treacherous human.

He had actually brought along such a fearsome shield.

Kersz breathed a noticeable sigh of relief upon seeing the child and loosened his grip on Yu Xi.

“The two children can play together,” Zaire said with a smile.

The little nephew clutched somewhat shyly at the hem of his uncle’s clothes. Yu Xi had already sidled up to him.

Yu Xi observed this fresh little human.

“Hello,” he said.

The child waved at Yu Xi: “Hello.”

The voice of a genuine child! Yu Xi was delighted: “Do you have parents?”

The child nodded.

Yu Xi: “Then are your mom and dad still around?”

Zaire: “Hahaha, this kid says the funniest things. What in the world goes on in that head of his?”

Kersz: …..

Yu Xi was probably thinking that if the kid didn’t have parents, he would take him and raise him himself.

However, the child’s answer didn’t align with Yu Xi’s hopes.

The child nodded, indicating that his parents were still alive.

“Then do you like your mom and dad?” Yu Xi asked.

The child nodded.

Yu Xi wore a look of complete disappointment.

Turning his head, he noticed that Kersz and Zaire had already struck up a conversation.

Zaire continued to blather on about his “profound insights,” and rather than stopping him, Kersz just egged him on.

As Zaire chatted away animatedly, he suddenly noticed that his nephew seemed to be chewing on something.

Zaire was given a fright: “W-what is that?”

“Oh, this is food from back home,” Kersz said, having realized that Yu Xi was feeding the child a snack.

Yu Xi probably wouldn’t feed the kid anything he shouldn’t.

Zaire let out a sigh of relief.

The child had just eaten a small cookie, and his eyes lit up: “So sweet.”

Yu Xi asked him: “Doesn’t it taste amazing?”

The child nodded repeatedly.

“I still have plenty here.” Yu Xi took out another pack. “These are sandwich cookies.”

The child let out a “wow.”

“I have so, so many cookies, more than you could ever eat,” said Yu Xi.

The child looked at Yu Xi with adoring eyes.

“There are plenty of other little snacks too,” said Yu Xi.

“Why do you have so many?” the child asked.

Zaire looked a little unsure, and gave an awkward smile: “Because this little brother’s family runs a big business.”

Zaire recalled how Yu Xi hadn’t finished his meal at the restaurant last time, and figured that there was nothing this kid hadn’t eaten before.

Yu Xi ignored Zaire and said to the child: “If you follow me, all of this will be yours.”

The child: “Eh? Follow you?”

“You can live in a house made of cookies and candy, and have heaps of delicious treats every day.” Yu Xi continued his temptation campaign.

The child: “Wow! Really?”

“Really, you can just reach out and break off a piece of cookie. As long as you follow me,” said Yu Xi.

“Okay.” The child took Yu Xi’s hand.

“So it’s fine if you never see your parents again?” Yu Xi asked tentatively.

The child fell silent, seemingly torn.

“Look! A cookie.” Yu Xi pulled out another.

The child: “Wow ! ! Then…..then I’ll follow you.”

Zaire: ? ? ?

Wait, wasn’t there something a little off here?

Zaire looked at Kersz: “Is your kid…..”

Kersz: “Hahaha, he just likes to joke around.”

Yu Xi: “How amazing, a brave little one who can be without his mom and dad.”

Zaire: “What does he mean by that?”

Kersz: “Hahaha.”

---

Consider donating via Kofi here.

Chapter 39 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 41

Ch. 111 – Chance Encounter

“Shixiong!” Fang Yang’s call preceded them before they even drew near, interrupting Feng Ye’s words and rescuing Hao Chen, whose heart was in suspense.

He had confessed his feelings to Feng Ye with ease, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid of rejection.

And he could tell that the dragon had been preparing to reject him.

Hao Chen had always known that Feng Ye rarely took him seriously, and at first, Hao Chen truly hadn’t been serious at all. Those misleading remarks were simply a product of habit. But eventually, without even realizing it himself, he had become entangled.

Yet he’d never made this change known to Feng Ye, and simply allowed him to operate under the same misconception. Because he knew that it wasn’t the right time, and that if he confessed to Feng Ye now, he would only face rejection.

It would be too embarrassing to speak of if he, the dignified Lord of the North Sea, was rejected after confessing to the one person he had genuinely fallen for after all these years.

While losing a bit of face wasn’t a big concern for someone as thick-skinned as him, Feng Ye was likely to deliberately put distance between them if his confession failed.

Before confessing, he could at least find some excuse to eat his tofu, or even climb onto the dragon’s back and sit between his horns. But once his confession failed, he might not even be able to touch a single dragon scale.

So rather than taking the initiative to confess, he had decided to wait until the time was right and sweep Feng Ye off his feet in one decisive move. But today, when Feng Ye tore through his paper-thin veil of pretense, he hadn’t denied it.

He just admitted it, openly and unreservedly.

His affection for Feng Ye wasn’t something shameful or unsightly. It was forthright and true, and nothing about this matter deserved concealment.

Although he’d never said it outright, he had also never hidden his feelings for the dragon. It was just that until today, Feng Ye had failed to notice.

And although he roughly knew what Feng Ye’s response would be to his confession, he still didn’t want to hear it with his own ears. Anyone would feel awful upon being rejected by the person they liked. Even Hao Chen’s thick skin was not enough to protect him from an attack that struck directly at his spirit, as well as his male pride.

But just as he was wracking his brains for something to steer the conversation in a different direction, Fang Yang arrived just in time.

Hao Chen gazed upon Fang Yang with sparkling eyes, as if beholding his savior.

Feng Ye tamped down his complicated feelings toward Hao Chen and turned toward Fang Yang. Only then did he realize that Fang Yang and Cao Zirui hadn’t returned alone. They had brought someone with them, and it was even someone he and Hao Chen knew.

It was the herb gatherer they had met in a nearby village before entering the mountains, who had drawn the map Feng Ye still had in his possession.

The old man had a slightly stooped back, but he was still sprightly, hale and hearty despite the years.

He carried a basket of herbs on his back and a sickle for clearing the path in his hand, having apparently been heading into the mountains to forage when Fang Yang and Cao Zirui crossed paths with him.

Fang Yang handed the re-filled water skin to Feng Ye and explained: “We ran into Old Uncle Sun here by the river. He’s going up the mountain to gather herbs, and didn’t expect to run into us.”

There didn’t seem to be anything overtly suspicious about his encounter, but Feng Ye raised an eyebrow and said pointedly: “What a coincidence, ah, running into Old Uncle Sun in a place as vast as Longqiu.”

Fang Yang had addressed him this way, so although Feng Ye and Hao Chen were innumerable years older than the man, they still shamelessly used the same address.

But the terminology was much less important than the fact that the boys had run into him out here. Such a coincidence was almost too much to believe.

“It’s not that much of a coincidence, ah. I actually came out here to find you all!” Old Uncle Sun said, failing to catch the skepticism in Feng Ye’s voice.

This came as a surprise to them all, and Fang Yang asked in confusion: “To find us?”

“That’s right.” Old Uncle Sun nodded and set down his herb basket. Although he was still in good shape despite his age, he didn’t have the stamina of youth, and needed to rest after hiking into the mountains for most of the morning.

He took a seat on the ground and explained unhurriedly to the others: “You asked me for directions yesterday morning and I drew you a map, but I got to thinking about it and felt like something wasn’t right. These mountains change all the time, and newcomers like you trying to find your way with a single map is just wishful thinking.”

“I kept thinking about it and couldn’t rest easy. I figured you all were bound to get lost, and since it was already so late yesterday, I got an early start this morning and figured I’d look for you while gathering herbs. And I actually found you!” There was a hint of joy in Old Uncle Sun’s voice. Although he had accepted payment for the map, he was truly concerned that these young people would run into trouble out in the mountains.

So that’s how it is. Fang Yang accepted this explanation.

“By the way, did you all see any wolves last night? Is that a wolf bite on your shoulder?” Having finished his story, Old Uncle Sun finally noticed the injured one among them.

Hao Chen had already tended to Feng Ye’s wound and tied the bandages off with a bow, so it was impossible to tell that the injury was from a sword. Drawing upon his own experiences, Old Uncle Sun simply assumed it was a wolf bite.

Feng Ye smiled and played along: “Right, we encountered wolves and barely managed to escape.”

The previous night’s experience was not something suitable for the ears of an ordinary person like Old Uncle Sun, so even the usually oblivious Fang Yang went along with Feng Ye’s words. 

Suspecting nothing, Old Uncle Sun slapped his thigh and said with remorse: “It’s my fault for forgetting to warn you yesterday. Don’t be fooled by the beauty of these mountains, they’re extremely dangerous. All kinds of creepy-crawlies and the most ferocious beasts, you’ll find them all here! Even worse, there seem to be bandits creeping around. Just before the New Year, government troops even came to suppress them!”

His words were grim, the content truly frightening, yet Feng Ye and his companions remained completely expressionless. They had already encountered those rumored bandits, and had even crossed swords with them after they had transformed into hungry ghosts.

So they weren’t surprised by this at all, let alone frightened.

Their reaction was a bit strange, but Old Uncle Sun didn’t think on it too deeply. After all, the important thing was that they were all safe and sound.

He glanced toward the stone door hidden amidst the vegetation a short distance away, then changed the subject: “Right, did you find the place I marked for you yesterday?”

Feng Ye shook his head, tending to the wound on his left palm as he replied: “We didn’t.”

There were many exposed ruins belonging to the Royal City of Western Qiang, and the place Old Uncle Sun had drawn for them, the location of the Living Soil, was only one of them. The location the two bandits had taken them to yesterday was another, and the stone door they had just escaped through made a third.

Sure enough, thought Old Uncle Sun. These youngsters found the wrong place.

Since he’d already come this far, he might as well see this through. After all, he had already accepted the money. “I don’t have anything to do anyway, so there’s no harm in taking you there myself.”

“Really? Thank you, Old Uncle Sun!” Fang Yang exclaimed in delight.

Old Uncle Sun waved his hand, then turned to Feng Ye and asked: “How’s your injury, little brother? How about you head back to the village and rest first? Heal up a little before you go. There’s no need to rush.”

Feng Ye smiled: “It’s not a problem. Let’s head out now.”

The matter of the Living Soil wasn’t an emergency, but it was also not something to put off.

He had encountered the Royal City of Western Qiang in the Emberless Horizon, and had encountered it again now at the location of the Living Soil. It was obviously a trap, but it also suggested that Jianmu’s connection with the Emberless Horizon one hundred years ago was likely caused by a complication with the Living Soil.

Although Feng Ye said nothing about the encounter with Ling Yun the night before, it was heavy on his mind. He very much wanted to know the truth of what had happened all those years ago.

If the problem really lay with the Living Soil, had Ling Yun been aware of it? Did he know that Jianmu had already been hollowed out by the resentful energy of the Emberless Horizon, and that dark creatures were using humanity to ascend to the heavens?

Feng Ye had actually changed his attitude toward Ling Yun several times. When he first began his investigation, he felt that the human who had cut out his heart for Jianmu was the prime suspect. For all he knew, this human might have fallen to the influence of demons and become their accomplice in their ascent to the heavens.

But as he gradually came to understand Ling Yun’s character, Feng Ye’s opinion began to shift. Ling Yun certainly possessed natural talent, but even the finest natural talent was useless without hard work.

He was able to master the art of swordsmanship to the highest level, and that in itself demonstrated the strength of his resolve.

Such people were not easily bewitched by demons. And Feng Ye had also confirmed his suspicions upon personally obtaining the Jianmu sprout not long ago: there was nothing wrong with the tree itself, and its fusion with Ling Yun’s heart was entirely sound.

Thus, Feng Ye turned his suspicions to the Living Soil and Xuanming Water. And when he chose to investigate the Living Soil first, he unexpectedly encountered the supposedly dead Ling Yun.

In addition, Ling Yun and that demon were on the same side.

Feng Ye found his attitude shifting once again. When had Ling Yun and the demon joined forces? Had it happened before or after Jianmu was severed…..?

This order of events was of paramount importance to Feng Ye. If Ling Yun had not actually fallen in with demons a century ago, and planted Jianmu free of their influence, then the reason he allied himself with one now would have to be…..

To seek revenge against Yinglong. Against Feng Ye.

Human strength was laughable in the face of a god, so he could only turn to the power of demons.

If this was really the case, then Feng Ye…..

He reflexively clenched his fist, and the newly bandaged wound on his palm split open again.

Feng Ye didn’t notice. He knew that his vengeance-fueled man who had allied himself with demons was dangerous, but he couldn’t just kill him with such callous inconsideration. Not again.

For this reason, he had kept Fang Yang and Cao Zirui from following Ling Yun, allowing both the man and the demonic creature to depart.

No one seemed to notice Feng Ye’s subtle movement, and once he indicated that he was fine, they all began packing up to leave.

Hao Chen had been keeping a close eye on him and picked up on a few clues. After a moment’s thought, he could roughly guess what was on Feng Ye’s mind.

This dragon, with his hard shell and ferocious reputation, actually had a heart softer than anyone else’s. He had killed so many people out of sheer necessity, and the anguish he felt over it was likely difficult to bear.

No one could possibly begrudge Ling Yun his quest for vengeance against Feng Ye, but…..surely this silly dragon wasn’t just going to hold still and let himself be beaten, right?

Ling Yun had slashed Feng Ye across the shoulder, a blow that had only landed because Hao Chen hadn’t reacted in time. Otherwise, he never would have allowed it to happen.

No matter who was right or wrong, he would stand on Feng Ye’s side, and he certainly wouldn’t just stand by while others bullied him.

If Ling Yun were to appear again and attack them, and if Feng Ye didn’t make a move, Hao Chen would be the one to act.

Nothing showed on his face as he made this decision. With a perfectly normal expression, he followed behind Feng Ye as Old Uncle Sun led them toward the true location of the Living Soil.

---

Consider donating via Kofi here.

Chapter 110 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 112

Before dawn, lamps were already lit and stoves were burning in Fengtian Hall.

The enormous hall, which had previously seemed empty even with the presence of civil and military officials, was now unusually full.

The dragon throne on the third tier of the platform, as well as Ning-wang’s seat on the second tier below, remained unchanged.

But further down the hall, near the base of the high platform, sat nine wide mahogany chairs.

There were four on the right and five on the left, with a wide aisle down the middle.

The cushioned chairs had been prepared for the seven vassal kings and Jiannan-wang, as well as Grand Tutor Chu Jiubian, the chief examiner.

Logically speaking, Chu Jiubian was a first-rank official just like the six ministers, so it was somewhat inappropriate for him to sit on an equal level with royalty. However, not a single member of the court felt that there was a problem with this.

Unconsciously, everyone had begun to distinguish Chu Jiubian from normal officials, and believed that his status should be higher than theirs.

Further down, the area where officials usually stood was now filled with a total of sixty-five chairs for the students, arranged in an orderly fashion.

On both sides of these rows of chairs was an aisle more than a meter wide.

And across those aisles were three rows of wide, high-backed chairs that had been prepared for the ministers.

Unlike the morning court sessions, there was no telling how long the audience would have to remain on their feet, so Chu Jiubian had ordered that chairs be prepared for them.

However, although chairs were provided, tea and snacks were not.

This was a serious setting, and the audience should not be so leisurely while the students were taking the exam.

Aside from this, there were also some other changes to the hall.

For example, when the Emperor and the officials were present, the servants could not enter Fengtian Hall and could only come in and clean it after everyone had left.

But today, not only were there many servants standing in the shadows along both sides of the hall, there were also two rows of Imperial Guards.

Everything about the occasion was grand and solemn, which informed everyone of how much importance Chu Jiubian and his faction placed on this palace examination.

*

*

Carriages bearing officials gradually approached the palace gates.

Those of lower ranks needed to make way for the carriages of higher officials, so they all arrived quite a bit later.

Once they disembarked, the high-ranking officials in front of them also left their carriages and stood at the forefront of the crowd.

Today was a rare sunny day, and although it was still chilly so early in the morning, the air lacked its previous bite. 

The officials stood in neat rows, all clad in thick clothing.

Bai Lihong was a benevolent emperor. Fearing that his ministers would catch a cold in the dead of winter, he had decreed that they should wear thicker clothing to court. If they were wearing cloaks, they could just take them off after entering the hall.

Therefore, all of the officials were dressed warmly enough and held handwarmers in their hands, so they weren’t particularly cold, and were even at leisure to chat quietly amongst themselves.

However, the lower-ranking officials in the back didn’t dare talk too openly. Only those at the front were a bit less restrained, and discussed today’s palace examination without speaking a negative word about it.

At the forefront of the group, none of the six ministers spoke. They simply held their handwarmers and stared at the tightly shut vermillion gate before them.

Minister of Rites Wang Zhiyuan already possessed an air of youth that belied his age, and having recently witnessed the abilities of Young Master Wang Qichen and the good fortune of his own grandson, Wang Pengyi, he had been relieved of many of his burdens and thus appeared even more sprightly.

In contrast, Minister of Personnel Xiao Huaiguan standing beside him appeared even more stooped than before. His face was incredibly gaunt, cheeks sunken and eyes ringed with dark circles, his gaze cloudy and dull. To call him decrepit would be putting it mildly.

Were an ignorant child to see him in such a state, they might well think they had encountered a ghost.

Wang Zhiyuan observed the changes taking place in him day after day, and with the addition of the unverified reports brought back by his scouts, he began to harbor some suspicions.

It seemed that this old thing didn’t have long to live.

However, it remained to be seen how long the other party would be able to hold on, for in today’s Imperial Court, the entire weight of the Xiao clan’s influence rested solely upon Xiao Huaiguan’s shoulders.

If he had previously been able to capitalize on the situation with Cai Peng and the military provisions and secure a better post for him, then Cai Peng would have effectively become a member of the Xiao family.

The Xiao clan would have also been able to regain some influence within the Imperial Court.

Yet of all days, that was precisely the day that Xiao Huaiguan suffered a lapse in judgment. From start to finish, he was completely muddleheaded and failed to seize this prime opportunity.

Wang Zhiyuan cast a sidelong glance at Xiao Huaiguan beside him, his expression inscrutable.

If the incumbent Minister of Personnel were to suddenly pass away, the court’s political landscape would become even more complex.

But perhaps this was precisely the outcome that Chu Jiubian, Qin Xiao, and others desired.

Thus, rather than saying that there was no telling when Xiao Huaiguan would die, it was more accurate to say that his expiration date relied entirely on when Chu Jiubian and Qin Xiao needed him to die.

Wang Zhiyuan gazed deeply toward the vermillion palace gates, which were slowly opening.

That day should not be far off, he thought.

Meanwhile, a procession of carriages slowly departed from Splendid Plaza.

Knowing that today was the day of the Palace Examination, many people rose early to gather near the Western Market, specifically in the vicinity of Clear Sky Tower, in hopes of catching a glimpse of the excitement.

What a sight it was! Stretching out before them was a long procession of carriages and horses, flanked by Imperial Guards. It was a truly magnificent and imposing spectacle.

And as for the students, they had all donned the Imperial Academy uniforms that Chu Jiubian had previously commissioned.

The sky blue brocade was embroidered with subtle silver patterns, while the white collars bore the three characters for the Imperial Academy in matching sky blue thread.

The men wore long robes with belts girding their waists, while the women wore long dresses that were likewise cinched at the waist with belts of the same material as the men. Everyone had also received thick, cotton-padded cloaks from Chu Jiubian, which they were permitted to wear each day.

The only difference between the students was perhaps their hairstyles.

Without exception, whether they had reached their majority or not, the male students bound their long hair up with jade-colored guans, giving them a neat, fresh appearance.

For their part, the female students all wore their hair in the simplest of buns, adorned only with jade hairpins. Each appeared all the more slender and graceful, yet distant and aloof.

As the onlookers watched the students emerge from the building in matching attire, they were overwhelmed and scarcely knew where to look.

They had encountered these students before, but it was only at this very moment that they perceived the unbridgeable chasm between them.

It was also only now that they began to vaguely conceptualize just what kind of opportunity the Imperial Examinations truly represented.

It afforded these ordinary students, hailing from remote and impoverished backwater towns, the opportunity to come to the capital, as well as the opportunity to draw close to the Emperor and those powerful dignitaries. Even more importantly, it afforded them the chance to attain even greater power and status in the future!

As the crowd watched the long procession of carriages and Imperial Guards recede into the distance, a single thought arose in each one of their minds: from this moment on, these people were on a completely different level than them.

Since Lu Yao had ranked first in the last exam, he sat in the foremost carriage.

His eyes were closed and his breathing was even, making it clear that he was asleep.

Qin Chuan sat across from him with his arms crossed, unsure what expression he should be wearing.

Since the High Priest had instructed him to get a full night’s rest, Lu Yao, having risen early today, was racing against time in a desperate attempt to squeeze in a little more sleep.

Qin Chuan had thought he was all talk, but unexpectedly, the other person had actually managed to fall asleep.

However, Qin Chuan was not overly surprised. When it came to Lu Yao, any absurdity was perfectly rational. After all, the person in question had once conducted an experiment to see how long a human being could go without proper sleep, and had actually gone several months without rest.

He wondered how he would fare in today’s Palace Examination.

Qin Chuan glanced out the carriage window, his lips curving into a smile.

Fortunately, he knew the palace well, and had arranged in advance for Qin Chaoyang to secure a position for him among the palace attendants in Fengtian Hall.

And so, once the students had disembarked from their carriages, Qin Chuan entered the palace in a flicker of movement.

He entered Fengtian Hall through the rear chamber, and after changing his clothes, he joined the other palace attendants and strode openly into the main hall, taking up a position within the shadows along one side.

He stood in just the right spot, with his vision unimpeded by any of the pillars, and was able to take in the entire scene with a single glance.

The officials had already paid their respects to the Emperor seated high above. They then withdrew to their respective places, yet didn’t take their seats.

Standing atop the raised platform, Eunuch Hong Fu raised his voice: “May the princes enter the hall!”

No sooner had he finished speaking than a voice relayed the message outside the hall.

Immediately after, eight figures entered the hall in succession. Skirting the tables and chairs in the center of the chamber, they all proceeded to the very front and bowed to pay their respects to the Emperor.

Bai Lihong called out in his tender, childish voice, and the eight vassal kings rose to their feet.

“Have a seat,” Bai Lihong called out again.

They bowed again in unison to express their gratitude, and only then did these vassal kings take their seats. Chu Jiubian also took his seat in the same row, followed by the civil and military officials.

Chu Jiubian was situated on the side closest to Qin Xiao, and therefore met the man’s gaze the second he raised his eyes.

Their gazes met, then parted.

Although the display was not deliberate on either of their parts, keen observers were able to spot the subtle mood between them at a glance.

And as for the identities of these keen observers, other than Qin Chuan, who was lurking in the shadows to watch the show, there was Jiannan-wang Bai Lihai, seated closest to Chu Jiubian, and Dingbei-wang Bai Liyu, who was positioned just behind Anhui-wang.

Ever since he first laid eyes on Chu Jiubian during morning court, Bai Lihai had been thoroughly unable to suppress his ulterior motives.

He would even contrive frequent excuses to enter the palace to visit the Empress Dowager, ostensibly to keep her company. Yet in reality, he spent much of that time loitering around the palace in the vicinity of the front court.

Several times, he succeeded in encountering Chu Jiubian as he emerged from Yaotai Residence.

But Chu Jiubian had maintained an aloof demeanor each time, never once cracking a smile.

The more he acted this way, the more Bai Lihai yearned to see other expressions on his face. Even anger lent him a sense of vitality, making him seem less like a god.

Yet contrary to his hopes, Jiannan-wang found that he was incapable of stirring up even the slightest ripple in that deity’s mind.

He was not reconciled.

Time and again, he sought to bridge the gap between them.

But to his astonishment, he learned that Chu Jiubian had not returned to stay in Yaotai Residence in quite some time, and had instead been residing in Yangxin Hall. And invariably, he was accompanied by Qin Xiao wherever he went.

Coupled with the rumors sweeping through the capital of a ‘love tribulation,’ Bai Lihai was all but certain that the relationship between Chu Jiubian and Qin Xiao was anything but ordinary.

Now, having returned to this great hall, Bai Lihai’s heart was fluttering at the thought of being able to sit right beside Chu Jiubian. But at this very moment, he once again sensed the ambiguous atmosphere between Chu Jiubian and Qin Xiao.

Those closely involved were oftentimes unable to see the situation clearly, but outsiders had a better view.

Bai Lihai lowered his eyes, hiding the darkness in their depths.

Of all people, why did it have to be Qin Xiao?

What right did he have to enjoy the favor of this god? What right did he have to claim possession of him!

Bai Lihai was aware that what he felt toward Chu Jiubian could not be called “liking,” and was even farther away from “love.”

He was just incredibly attracted to him.

And the mere thought of conquering a god caused him to shiver all over.

Anything Qin Xiao could do, he could do as well. He was absolutely determined to claim Chu Jiubian!

Dingbei-wang Bai Liyu merely swept his gaze over Chu Jiubian and Qin Xiao with evident interest before looking away.

The situation between these two was indeed as the rumors claimed.

On the several previous occasions he had met with them, Bai Liyu had deliberately studied them, yet discerned nothing from his observations.

Today, however, was very different.

It seemed as if prior to this, nothing significant had transpired between the two, and their relationship was still one where each of them kept their emotions in check. Yet now, something must have happened that made their palpable intimacy impossible to conceal.

What was it?

Had they consummated their relationship?

Before Bai Liyu’s eyes, the young man’s tall, upright figure and beautiful silver hair once again came into view.

To think that a god would actually consort with a mortal.

It was really…..very fascinating.

Qin Xiao’s cool gaze swept over the vassal kings seated beneath the dais, lingering very briefly on Bai Lihai and Bai Liyu.

Anhuai-wang Bai Liming was timid by nature, and dared not even lift his head where he was seated between the other two. His entire body went rigid, and he even thought that Ning-wang disliked the mere sight of him.

Even he could sense Qin Xiao’s intense gaze, to say nothing of Bai Lihai and Bai Liyu.

Bai Lihai looked up and met Qin Xiao’s gaze, then immediately lowered his eyes again. There was an expression of alarm on his face, as if he had received a shock.

Yet in his gloomy eyes, not the slightest trace of fear could be seen.

Meanwhile, Bai Liyu looked back at Qin Xiao with a smile, neither flinching nor averting his eyes.

The students had not yet arrived, so the hall was currently rather quiet while everyone was sizing up those around them.

It was in the midst of such an atmosphere that Qin Xiao suddenly spoke up: “What was Dingbei-wang thinking about just now?”

Chu Jiubian paused, then raised his eyes to look at him.

The attention of everyone else was naturally drawn by this remark, and they looked over almost imperceptively.

Bai Liyu hadn’t expected Qin Xiao to inquire so directly, and was visibly taken aback.

“Is it so difficult to say?” Qin Xiao’s lips curved up, and he then cast his gaze toward Bai Lihai. “I imagine it aligns perfectly with what was on Jiannan-wang’s mind.”

Bai Lihai’s brow furrowed, and a frustrated look briefly contorted his expression.

Qin Xiao wore a smile on his face, but those who fell under his focus could distinctly sense a brazen, unbridled killing intent.

“What manner of words are those, Ning-wang?” Bai Liyu regained his smile. “Why is it that this lord can’t understand them?”

Qin Xiao turned to Bai Lihai: “And you?”

Bai Lihai fixed his dark gaze upon him, and his lips tugged upward: “This lord also doesn’t…..”

“In that case, you had best go find an Imperial Physician to diagnose whether or not your brains were kicked out by a donkey.” Qin Xiao’s tone was mild as he observed the two of them. “And while you’re at it, have your eyes gouged out, lest you spend your days coveting that which you have no business coveting.”

Bai Lihai gritted his teeth, yet in the end, he could only manage to squeeze out a faint smile, unable to utter a single word.

Bai Liyu, however, stared at Qin Xiao in complete disbelief.

How could Ning-wang speak such coarse words?

The other vassal kings were all shaken, while by contrast, the civil and military officials remained completely unphased.

This wasn’t the first time Qin Xiao had acted with such brazen disregard for convention. One just needed to get used to it.

“You –”

Bai Liyu finally found his voice, but was cut off by Qin Xiao’s abrupt call of “Your Majesty,” no hint of courtesy to be seen.

“Your Majesty,” said Qin Xiao, “the scholars have arrived.”

Bai Lihong couldn’t understand why his uncle had struck up such a conversation with the two vassal kings, but he still unconditionally sided with his Jiujiu. Seeing the sour looks on the faces of the other two, the child practically wanted to wave his tiny hands to cheer his uncle on.

The moment Qin Xiao spoke up, Bai Lihong knew that his uncle was deliberately trying to stump those two, leaving them no room for rebuttal.

The feeling of being cut off halfway through an argument, where the opponent got to vent to his heart’s content while you were completely shut down before you had a chance to speak, was terribly frustrating.

Bai Lihong said: “Let the students into the hall.”

Hong Fu’s lips curved upward, and he called out: “Scholars of the Imperial Academy, enter the hall!”

This was the very first time the Imperial Examinations had been held, and people had not yet grown accustomed to titles such as Xiucai or Juren,^[1] so Hong Fu simply referred to them all as “scholars” for now.

As his words rang out, the students who had just reached the hall entrance quickly smoothed their robes and fell into a formation of five columns and thirteen rows, marching inside.

Everyone turned to look as this group of students clad in sky blue robes stepped through the doorway, and were subsequently unable to tear their eyes away.

Not because these people made a particularly splendid sight, but because their spirit and vitality were so evident.

With their chests out and heads high, their eyes glimmering with light, they were like a cluster of blazing flames.

Many of the officials felt a brief moment of disorientation. These students looked just like them when they first entered officialdom in their youth, brimming with enthusiasm and ambition.

But as the years slipped by, they had been tossed about by the surging tides of power and had long forgotten their original goals.

Some of them also wore heavy expressions.

They had never actually laid eyes on the original exam papers, but they had heard the rumors. They knew that these students possessed genuine ability, yet they still didn’t hold them in particularly high regard.

But now, beholding these students who should have by all rights been languishing in some remote backwater, many felt a sense of crisis that defied description at the sight of their spirit and bearing.

It all depended on how these individuals performed in the Palace Examination.

Even those seated at the front, including the ministers and deputy ministers of the six ministries, regarded the assembled students with a mix of varying sentiments.

They were all aware of the purpose behind Chu Jiubian’s establishment of this Palace Examination – it was to showcase the talent of these scholars and seize the opportunity to make a name for them.

Then, whenever vacancies arose in the Imperial Court, these scholars would be able to step in and fill those positions as a matter of course.

It remained to be seen, however, how many of these scholars selected through the Imperial Examination system would actually prove to be of any practical use.

The vassals kings, too, each had their own plans.

With the advent of the Imperial Examination system, they had followed in the footsteps of the great noble families and expanded both the channels and the volume of their recruitment, siphoning off a significant number of individuals from the pool of those originally intending to sit for the examinations.

It could be said that each and every one of those standing here today consisted of their leftovers.

Of course, there were also those who wished to avoid any association with the vassal kings, such as the great Confucian scholars Tan and Yan.

Naturally, these two were the ones drawing most of their attention today.

Chu Jiubian’s thoughts as he gazed upon these students were not nearly so complex.

These were the very talents they intended to cultivate in the future. Just look at them – leaving aside the younger ones such as Lu Yao and Tan Yuzhu, even the somewhat older figures like Tan Ji and his companion exuded a high-spirited, vigorous air.

Led by the five top-ranked scholars, the assembled students made their way to the front of the hall, where they bowed deeply to pay their respects to the Emperor.

Chu Jiubian looked ahead and found that Qin Xiao was also watching these students.

As if sensing his gaze, Qin Xiao looked over at him, but Chu Jiubian averted his eyes.

Chu Jiubian understood perfectly well why Qin Xiao had flared up just moments ago and picked a fight with Jiannan-wang and Dingbei-wang.

But it was precisely because he saw this so clearly that he didn’t know how to face Qin Xiao.

His intermittent awkwardness and aloofness, coupled with the intimacy he showed with Qin Xiao from time to time and the way he occasionally allowed him to cross boundaries, appeared as a game of push-and-pull to outsiders. As if he was merely toying with Qin Xiao.

Qin Xiao eyed the young man’s tightly clenched jaw, his fingertips tapping softly against the armrest of his chair.

Seated on his throne, Bai Lihong commanded them to rise.

The students rose with impeccable grace and decorum. Even though some hands were trembling from tension and excitement, their outward demeanor remained composed and perfectly flawless.

They had learned all of this during their time in Clear Sky Tower, from the palace attendants who resided there.

Many of them had been unaware of the situation in the Imperial Court, but after spending so long conversing and exchanging views with one another, they had naturally come to learn some of the inside details.

For instance, the Emperor, Ning-wang, and the incarnated god Chu Jiubian constituted the “Imperial Authority” faction, and stood as a three-party opposition against the powerful noble factions dominating the Imperial Court, as well as the vassal kings.

The Emperor had instituted the Imperial Examinations in order to cultivate scholars like themselves, so that they might replace the powerful noble clans and officials within the Imperial Court.

Some among them were aware of the perils involved, but having already come this far, and having already spurned the advances of those nobles and vassal kings, it was only natural to wish to serve the Emperor and Great Ning.

Yet although the vast majority remained completely oblivious to the dangers ahead, they had nonetheless quite readily thrown their support behind the Emperor, who had created this opportunity for them to change their destinies. They now aspired to perform even better, so as not to bring shame upon him.

The scholars took their seats one after another, and the Palace Examination officially commenced.

From the shadows, palace attendants emerged in a single-filed line, bearing brand new brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones, which they set upon the tables before the assembled scholars.

Of course, only the students in the five disciplines of classical studies, mathematics, justice, engineering, and female medicine received these “Four Treasures of the Study.”

The first three went without saying, as they all required answering standard questions, as well as possessing literary knowledge and the ability to write.

Bai Lihong had long since prepared the questions that the students would be required to answer for the first round of the Palace Examinations, specifically those pertaining to these three subjects.

At this moment, he took three slips of paper from his sleeve and handed them to Hong Fu, who accepted them and read their contents aloud.

The content of the mathematical problems centered on Hexi Prefecture. Specific data regarding a plot of farmland was provided, and students were tasked with calculating the amount of taxes due, determining how the land should be equitably partitioned, and determining the population size that should correspond to such a plot of land according to the laws of Great Ning.

The criminal justice problems included one real-life case and one hypothetical one.

The real-life case pertained to two young masters of wealthy families, who despite being prohibited by the Imperial Court, insisted on ingesting the drug mandala and openly boasted that they were untouchable. Under these circumstances, how should they be judged by the court?

The hypothetical case involved a powerful, high-ranking official who had engaged in bribery and corruption for many years. He had made contributions to the Imperial Court, but had also persecuted the loyal and upright. With the evidence so meticulously concealed that it remained undiscovered, how then should this case be adjudicated?

As these problems were read aloud, the vast majority of those in the hall turned pale.

That mathematical tax problem was actually a direct indictment of the noble families’ land hoarding and tax evasion.

And as for the criminal justice problems, they brazenly trampled on the reputations of both the Xiao and Lu families, and then referred to an unnamed ‘powerful, high-ranking official’ while recounting that person’s acts of corruption and bribery.

This was all an explicit signal from Qin Xiao and Chu Jiubian, informing everyone that they were about to settle the final accounts.

Hong Fu proceeded to read out the classical studies problem.

This problem was simple, yet difficult in its simplicity.

Students were simply asked to consider how to improve the standard of living of Great Ning’s common people, with a specific focus on the economy.

The development of Great Ning’s economy could be described as particularly contradictory.

Despite the official policy of promoting agriculture over commerce, powerful noble clans, influential families, and even the Imperial household itself were all engaged in commerce. Thus, although merchants were of low status, their business remained unaffected.

The curfew in Great Ning was also quite late, with morning and night markets open within the capital.

Consequently, commerce was actually developing quite well in Great Ning, but it lacked a defined structure and was rather chaotic.

Having made it this far in the examinations, the classical studies students already knew how to write such a ‘policy essay.’

After carefully considering the problem, they were able to firmly grasp the crux of the matter, and soon put brush to paper as they set about organizing their thoughts.

These three subjects requiring brush and paper were already in full swing.

Hong Fu then read out the exam requirements for the subject of engineering, which required them to improve the plow used for tilling land. Alternatively, they could draft a plan for a large, sturdy bridge, specifically for the purpose of spanning a canal.

They were only required to choose one.

As he finished speaking, servants had already carried one of the plows that were currently used in Great Ning into the hall. Students who wished to tackle this project were invited to step forward and examine it closely.

There were a total of ten students participating in the engineering exam, but only two of them, including Yan Rui, had received any formal schooling. The remaining eight individuals were at least capable of drawing, and paper and brushes were provided so that they could sketch blueprints.

At this moment, some of the students were examining the plow, while others had already begun to scratch and scribble on their paper. Each and every one of them sported a deeply furrowed brow.

The three female physicians were all literate, or they would never have been able to master their medical texts.

Bearing in mind that their level of skill was not particularly high just yet, Chu Jiubian simply tested them on identifying ten relatively obscure herbs. Then three matrons were summoned, and the female physicians were called on to take their pulses, diagnose their ailments, and then prescribe appropriate remedies tailored to their specific symptoms.

All of these subjects required the use of brush and paper.

The remaining thirteen students in the needlework discipline received brand-new silk handkerchiefs from the Nanjiang Silk Shop, along with a plentiful supply of needles and thread.

Several design patterns were provided, and students were required to embroider a specific motif from the patterns within a designated timeframe. The only requirement was that they modify this pattern and incorporate their own creative touches.

The final group of agriculture students consisted of ten individuals, all seasoned farmers straight from the fields.

Perhaps because older people were more averse to taking risks, the agriculture students turned out to be exclusively young to middle-aged men. Their skin was a shade fairer than usual due to keeping themselves covered up all winter, but each of them was still tanned, healthy, and full of spirit.

Due to their illiteracy, from start to finish, their journey through the exams consisted of verbal questions on their knowledge of agriculture. They would also provide their answers verbally, while designated personnel stood nearby to record their words. These records were ultimately submitted to Chu Jiubian 

At present, they still required someone to read out the questions so that they could provide verbal answers.

And the one posing the questions this time was neither an examiner nor the Emperor, but Chu Jiubian.

---

[1] Xiucai (秀才) is a county-level graduate and Juren (举人) is a provincial-level graduate. ⮐

---

Consider donating via Kofi here.

Chapter 82 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 84

Ch. 110 – Do You Like Me?

The early morning sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves of the trees above, falling upon the four figures sprawled haphazardly across the grass. Though weak, it still managed to dispel the lingering nighttime chill.

After a full night of running for their lives, lying on the grass and basking in the sun became a rare indulgence, so warm and cozy that they didn’t want to move a muscle.

And indeed, none of them moved, all of them sprawled out to relax their leaden limbs.

Nobody spoke. They hadn’t noticed it during their desperate escape, but the moment they lay down, wave after wave of exhaustion washed over them like the rising tide. Lifting a single finger seemed like an incredible effort, and moving their lips was much the same.

Time passed unnoticed as they lay there, but as the sun climbed higher in the sky and glared down, Feng Ye raised a hand to shield his eyes.

The movement aggravated the wound on his left shoulder, and the pain finally snapped him out of his drowsiness. Since he couldn’t move his left arm much, he raised his right hand instead.

But his hand didn’t move.

Feng Ye turned his head slightly to look at the person beside him. Hao Chen’s grip on his hand was just as firm as it had been when he pulled him up, and he hadn’t let go even though they were now out of danger.

He lay flat on his back on the grass, eyes gently shut, and looked so peaceful that he seemed to be asleep.

Feng Ye gazed at Hao Chen’s profile. There was a small flower in the grass right between the two of them, a pale purple wildflower just like the one the crow had brought him the day before.

The wildflower impeded Feng Ye’s view, and from this angle, it appeared as if it was pinned to Hao Chen’s head.

The flower had looked cute on the crow’s fluffy head, but it would just seem out of place on a grown man.

But if it was Hao Chen wearing it, Feng Ye thought it would look…..pretty good?

This fish was certainly vain. Carrying a folding fan with him that he waved regardless of the weather, he took flamboyance to the extreme.

But his vanity wasn’t groundless. His human form…..looks like that were indeed misleading, and he looked good in anything he chose to wear.

Rather than making him look effeminate, wearing a flower gave him an alluring charm.

It looked surprisingly good.

Wait. Feng Ye blinked and suddenly became aware of the direction of his thoughts. Was he actually praising Hao Chen’s good looks?

Despite the praise being limited to the privacy of his own mind, he was still appalled.

He took a deep breath and reminded himself of the other’s true nature – a fat black fish. He must not allow himself to be deceived by Hao Chen’s human form.

Once Feng Ye had his mental defenses back in place, he gave his right hand a shake to prompt Hao Chen to let go.

Hao Chen…..did not let go.

Not only did he not loosen his grip, he held on even tighter. His eyes were still closed, and this seemed to be the subconscious reaction of someone who was deeply asleep.

Feng Ye stared at Hao Chen, motionless. Had Hao Chen’s thumb not been brushing back and forth across the back of his hand, he might have fallen for it.

He tried to use his gaze to pierce through the fish’s pretense, but only succeeded in reconfirming the extent of Hao Chen’s thick face.

Hao Chen was completely immune to such a harmless attack, so Feng Ye was forced to resort to something he couldn’t ignore.

He bent his right knee and nudged Hao Chen with it, attempting to push him away.

Hao Chen was indeed pushed away, but he had only moved the slightest bit when he came rolling back toward Feng Ye. And at the end of this roll, he landed directly on top of Feng Ye.

Feng Ye: “……”

Feng Ye glared at Hao Chen, who pretended not to see it. He had constructed a completely logical explanation to justify his actions: “After all the chaos last night, I accidentally fell asleep as soon as I relaxed.”

His voice alerted Fang Yang and Cao Zirui, who sat up drowsily. Fang Yang added in agreement: “I nearly fell asleep too.”

Feng Ye: “…..”

Fine.

He was forced to accept this excuse. But just as a smug smile appeared on Hao Chen’s face, Feng Ye ruthlessly shoved him away.

Hao Chen didn’t insist on clinging to him, because when he sprawled over Feng Ye, he once again caught the scent of blood.

It was Feng Ye’s, along with a trace of the three-headed dog’s.

When Feng Ye emerged from the Path of Carnage, his blood-drenched clothes and bloody footprints were actually just illusions.

The Eight Ghost Generals had perished with the rest of Western Qiang long ago, and what lingered within the array were nothing more than illusory imprints.

Once they escaped the array, the blood soaking Feng Ye’s clothing had naturally vanished.

But Ling Yun had not been an illusion, nor had the three-headed dog, so the wounds and bloodstains they inflicted had not vanished after their escape.

After sitting up, Feng Ye began to tend to his wounds. The wound on his palm was fine and had basically stopped bleeding, but the injury to his shoulder was a bit more serious.

Since it was his left shoulder that was injured, he could only use his right hand to clean it, which was very inconvenient.

Hao Chen observed for a moment before venturing cautiously: “Shall I help you?”

He had already realized that approaching the dragon would be difficult, so he adopted the gentlest approach and sought permission first.

Feng Ye paused what he was doing and glanced over at him. Hao Chen’s expression was somewhat apprehensive, as if he didn’t know whether or not he would be welcome.

Feng Ye pursed his lips. He had rebuffed Hao Chen’s approach inside the Grand Array, and had done the same to Fang Yang. He was fully aware that his sensitivity bordered on paranoia, but it simply wasn’t something he could control.

Under normal circumstances, although Feng Ye wasn’t particularly fond of allowing others close, he wouldn’t have warned them away so ruthlessly.

But the Royal City of Western Qiang brought back too many memories, and encountering the Eight Ghost Generals and Ling Yun in such quick succession had kept him in a constant state of tension. Even the slightest nudge was able to trigger an extreme reaction from him.

Just like a bowstring pulled taut, the tighter the draw, the more violent the recoil.

This was the reason he couldn’t allow anyone near his wounds, even though his rational mind knew that Hao Chen and Fang Yang only wanted to help him.

But emotion was not subject to reason, and his mind was in turmoil. The chaos of the situation swirled together with his memories, and he no longer had the presence of mind to rationally assess the intentions of those approaching him. Thus, he defaulted to his most primal instinct.

The instinct to trust no one.

Some instincts were innate, while others were acquired, learned through falling down over and over, then standing up again and again while clutching at his wounds.

After lying in the grass for most of the morning, the stress had begun to gradually seep out of him. He was no longer as tense, nor were his scales bristling in warning to those who dared to approach.

He nodded to Hao Chen in agreement.

Hao Chen’s eyes lit up as if he had received an unexpected gift, and he immediately leaned in.

He helped tear away the fabric over Feng Ye’s shoulder. It had become fused to his skin, and even the slightest touch tugged at the wound. Thus, Hao Chen tore it with extreme caution, his movements agonizingly slow. So slow that Feng Ye lost patience and grabbed hold of Hao Chen’s hand, using it to rip the fabric back with sudden force.

With a sharp rip, a large gap was torn open at the shoulder, bringing with it shreds of flesh.

Feng Ye gritted his teeth as he did it, but didn’t give a single cry of pain. His expression also didn’t change in the slightest, and as if everything was perfectly normal, he handed the torn strip of fabric to the stunned Hao Chen.

Hao Chen wasn’t the only one staring at him in silence. Fang Yang and Cao Zirui were equally dumbfounded. The freshly-bleeding wound looked terrible, but this “Useless Shixiong” didn’t make a sound. Even those courageous heroes of legend surely couldn’t do better.

Fang Yang gave Feng Ye a thumbs-up, while Cao Zirui nodded in admiration.

Feng Ye wore a mild expression, as if this was all nothing to him. But Hao Chen, who was closest to him, still caught a subtle clue. Feng Ye’s forehead was beaded with cold sweat, and the moment he tore the fabric from his flesh, a barely perceptible shudder had run through his body.

This dragon is just putting on an act. He’s clearly in terrible pain, but he still has to put on a front and pretend like he’s fine, Hao Chen thought.

If it was him who had been injured, he would have put on an act too. But in contrast to Feng Ye, who would only reveal one point of pain out of the ten he felt, even if Hao Chen only felt one point of pain, he would magnify it into ten.

He would insist on making a scene and feigning weakness in order to elicit care and concern.

“Shixiong, I’ll go down to the river and fetch some water to wash out your wounds,” Fang Yang volunteered.

He had already forgotten Feng Ye’s harsh words to him earlier, and didn’t require an explanation from him, having come up with one all on his own. It must be that Useless Shixiong couldn’t afford a distraction from his efforts to open an exit to the Grand Array, and therefore couldn’t allow him to touch him.

Now that Hao Chen was tending to Useless Shixiong’s wounds, he decided to go and fetch some water since there was nothing else he could do to help.

“I have some wound medicine here. Take it,” Cao Zirui chimed in. As he spoke, he fished several small porcelain jars out of his storage pouch and placed them beside Feng Ye and Hao Chen, then accompanied Fang Yang to fetch water.

Feng Ye’s clothing had already been torn open, but the grit embedded in the wound needed to be washed out before it could be medicated and bandaged. It seemed that they wouldn’t be able to continue until Fang Yang returned with the water.

But the moment the boys had walked a safe distance away, Hao Chen materialized a sphere of water in the palm of his hand with a casual snap of his fingers.

How could a sea-dwelling Kunpeng not know how to materialize water? But he didn’t stop the two boys, because he wanted to be alone with Feng Ye.

He had achieved his goal, but Feng Ye’s wounds could not be left unattended. Once the boys returned, he would come up with some random excuse to brush them off. 

Thus, Hao Chen began to unreservedly use his spiritual power. The technique for gathering water wasn’t difficult, but it also wasn’t something a disciple at Qi Refining stage should be capable of.

Seeing this, Feng Ye deliberately teased: “Fellow Daoist Hao Chen’s cultivation has advanced by leaps and bounds. You’ve actually mastered the water-gathering technique?”

Hao Chen’s hands were busy, and he couldn’t spare the attention to answer as he guided the sphere of water to Feng Ye’s shoulder. This extension of his spiritual power naturally carried a chill unique to the North Sea, so the sphere of water was much cooler than room temperature. The moment it touched his skin, the chilling cold combined with the pain of his wound subjected Feng Ye to the uniquely strange sensation of being caught between fire and ice.

“Hiss!” Feng Ye sucked in a sharp breath.

Due to his mental preparations, he hadn’t cried out when he first tore his clothes, but this time, he was caught by surprise.

With the flow of water brought under control, Hao Chen finally had a moment to reply with a playful tease: “No matter how rapidly I advance, I’ll never be able to match Fellow Daoist Feng Ye’s transcendent swordsmanship. Even in a fight with the former sect leader of Lingxiao Sword Sect, your battle ended in a stalemate.”

It feels like it’s been a while since we bantered like this, Feng Ye thought during a lull in the pain.

He and Hao Chen seemed to have been trading jabs since the moment they met. Back then, he always saw this sticky candy as an annoyance, and never could have imagined that one day, he would seize Hao Chen’s hand as if betwitched.

And “bewitched” was the only way to describe it, because looking back on it now, Feng Ye was simply unable to understand why he had chosen to trust Hao Chen. To trust that Hao Chen would hold onto him and not let go, allowing him to fall back past those eighteen stone doors into the underworld.

The wound on his shoulder no longer hurt as much, and his body was gradually adapting to the biting chill of water from the North Sea. Feng Ye stared into Hao Chen’s eyes, attempting to figure out what exactly had bewitched him.

Hao Chen lowered his gaze. Seeing that the wound was sufficiently clean, he took the porcelain bottle left by Cao Zirui and applied the medicine to Feng Ye.

He carefully sprinkled the medicinal powder on the wound, then took a spare set of his own clothes out of his storage bag and tore the sleeves from them to use as makeshift bandages, winding them around Feng Ye’s arm.

“Do you like me?”

Hao Chen was caught off guard when he heard this question out of the blue, and went abruptly still.

After a brief pause, he resumed his work and tied Feng Ye’s wound up with a large bow. Only then did he straighten up and put some distance between them.

He slowly raised his head to meet Feng Ye’s eyes, which were watching him closely.

“I like you, ah,” Hao Chen said with a smile.

Now it was Feng Ye’s turn to freeze. He hadn’t expected Hao Chen’s answer, nor had he been prepared for him to offer it so casually.

So casually that it seemed unreal.

This wasn’t the first time Hao Chen had told him he liked him. “I’m starting to like you more and more,” Hao Chen had told him, but Feng Ye hadn’t taken it seriously, regarding it as merely one of Hao Chen’s usual jokes.

But this time…..Feng Ye wasn’t certain if it was a joke or not.

You could call Hao Chen respectable, but he could also be as dissolute as a scoundrel. You could call him disreputable, but then, his behavior didn’t seem to be that outrageous. He hovered somewhere between serious and frivolous, evading definition.

In the same way, his words were a mix of truth and falsehood. He spoke without considering what should or should not be said, even if he knew very well that it might lead to a misunderstanding.

Take for example when they first met: they’d only lain side-by-side on the bed for a short while, but the story from Hao Chen’s mouth made it sound as if they had done something indescribably explicit.

Words from someone like that naturally couldn’t be taken at face value, and Feng Ye himself was fundamentally distrustful of others. Combining these two factors, the result was that Feng Ye only took about half of what came out of Hao Chen’s mouth seriously.

But this time…..Feng Ye looked into Hao Chen’s eyes. The anxiety in them had vanished, and everything half-hidden and half-revealed had finally surfaced.

Or perhaps it had never been hidden at all, and Feng Ye just hadn’t noticed.

It was the most wonderful thing in the world, so beautiful that Feng Ye was almost bewitched a second time.

He raised his hand unthinkingly, as if to touch those eyes brimming with affection, only for his hand to freeze at the halfway point.

It was almost a conditioned response when he withdrew his hand.

The more beautiful something was, the more dangerous it was. The moment he let his guard down, he would be met with eternal doom.

Time and again, he tried to extend his trust, and time and again he was deceived.

It had happened so many times that distrust was etched into his very bones, until it became instinct.

The scales on Yinglong’s body, impervious to bladed weapons, had not always been so hard. Only through countless cycles of peeling away and growing back had they become as tough as they were.

This was the way he protected himself.

Feng Ye clenched his fist, words of rejection on his tongue.

But before they could pass his lips, Fang Yang and Cao Zirui returned.

And all Feng Ye could do was temporarily swallow them back.

---

Consider donating via Kofi here.

Chapter 109 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 111

Ch 39 – Watching Too Many TV Dramas

“You’re out of line.” The man looked at the disguised space pirate leader before him, speaking with a hint of displeasure in his tone. “Our lord didn’t invite you.”

“Wasn’t I just worried that you guys had forgotten me?” The pirate leader chuckled. “We’ve worked together in the past, after all. But lately, with that bunch of lunatics from Dawn of Life breathing down my neck and two of my companies already taken down, you guys haven’t lifted a single finger to help.” 

“The people from Dawn of Life moved against you because of your filthy dealings in human trafficking. There is no cooperation between us in that regard. You should go find that bunch of merchants from the Star Union who chase fame and profit,” the man responded, lowering his eyes.

“I heard your colonel has recently been in talks with a minor figure from the Star Union regarding a collaboration?” The space pirate leaned in with a smile. “Raw energy ore? How high of an offer is he willing to make your colonel?”

“Give me a break, you and I both know how fast those guys from the Star Union can cut ties. They’re the ones who buy the most from me in order to save money, yet they’re also the ones who spend the most on public relations to project a favorable image to the outside world. Did you know? Every one of their companies has ‘model bases’ used for promotional purposes.”

The pirate leader: “They’re just as pretentious as all you nobles.”

“We’ve never taken part in your human trafficking business.”

“You have no knowledge of what I do? I do all the dirty work that you can’t bring yourselves to do, and now you’re just going to stand by and watch me go down in flames? I refuse.” The space pirate leader propped up his legs. “If I die, don’t expect to get off easy yourselves.”

*
*

Kersz took Yu Xi and Tau out to explore the planet’s various attractions. He felt that he could no longer leave them at home together, because who knew what Tau might say to Yu Xi next?

Yu Xi was curious about everything, and wanted to play with everything too. However, the body he had chosen to use for this outing was still that of a small child, which was too small to hold so many little toys. Due to this, he ended up running into a human’s leg.

Upon laying eyes on Yu Xi, that human let out an exclamation of sheer delight and called out the name Yu Xi was currently going by.

Kersz was somewhat taken aback, and smiled as he asked who the other party was. But before they could answer, Yu Xi spoke as Kersz picked him up: “He’s a servant from Colonel Yara’s household. On the day of the banquet, he was wearing a light blue formal suit and carrying a tray of little desserts.”

“We’ve met,” Yu Xi continued. “He even asked if you wanted something to eat.”

Kersz: …..

Yu Xi’s ability to memorize human characteristics was a bit too impressive, wasn’t it?

That person was pleasantly surprised: “Wow! You have an excellent memory!”

“You’re very gentle,” Yu Xi went on to praise him. “You have a very nice smile when you look at me.”

That person was even more delighted.

He invited the three of them to join him for lunch, and the restaurant he chose turned out to be one that actually served fresh food.

“This place isn’t cheap, is it?” Kersz ran his eyes over their surroundings.

The other party smiled, indicating that it was nothing.

Kersz and Yu Xi glanced at Tau.

The person treating them was a servant from Yara’s household, while Tau was the Supreme Governor’s Illegitimate.

It appeared that this Illegitimate was treated worse than the servants.

In any case, Kersz knew that despite being alive for over seventy years, Tau had never once tasted proper food.

Tau displayed no superfluous expressions. Upon sitting down, he simply offered a warm smile to the person sitting across from him, maintaining his persona.

Yu Xi didn’t care much for the food here, feeling that the dishes were either bland or had one particular flavor that was far too overpowering.

The bland flavors failed to bring out the true essence of the food, while those jarring tastes were unable to stimulate the appetite.

Yu Xi didn’t believe that these new humans had different taste buds from the old ones, and Kersz was of the same opinion.

After having a single piece of dessert at the banquet, Kersz hadn’t touched any of the other food.

Yu Xi wasn’t sure if the chefs in this world were simply incapable of cooking, or if it was a deliberate choice. But in any case, he felt that the food here definitely couldn’t compare to what he made himself.

Compared to the food, Yu Xi was much more interested in the human in front of him.

As Kersz chatted with the human about the latter’s family, Yu Xi didn’t join in due to his current identity as a child.

But Kersz knew what Yu Xi wanted to ask, and spoke on his behalf.

Tau felt a nudge against his calf. He glanced down and realized that it was Yu Xi, who was kicking his legs while he sat in Kersz’s lap. The tips of his shoes had accidentally brushed against his leg.

Yu Xi immediately ceased his movements. Tau merely smiled, then quite naturally reached out and gave the top of Yu Xi’s head a light pat. 

Yu Xi: “Eh?”

Kersz didn’t give much of a reaction other than casting a glance in Tau’s direction.

He felt that the bond between Yu Xi and Tau had grown closer, only neither of them seemed to be able to see it.

Tau likely believed that he was merely under the other’s control.

Yu Xi: …..

Yu Xi had met Kersz first, and compared to the excessive interactions between them, his closeness to Tau didn’t amount to much in his eyes.

Kersz continued his conversation with the person across from him.

That person’s name was Zaire. His family had served the High Lord for generations, and the High Lord had assigned him to her daughter, Yara.

Judging by the look on Zaire’s face as he spoke of the High Lord’s family, he seemed to take pride in his position.

“Is the High Lord very good to you?” Kersz asked.

“Of course. Our family began working for the High Lord a very long time ago when my grandmother cared for the current High Lord as an infant,” Zaire said. “My older brother did quite well in his studies, and the High Lord covered his tuition fees and even arranged a job for him after he graduated.”

“I’m a mere servant, and my means are certainly not as substantial as yours.” Zaire motioned to the restaurant. “But as an ordinary person, I can still afford to eat real food.”

“That’s really impressive,” Yu Xi praised.

“I just put in a little more effort than everyone else.” Zaire winked at Yu Xi.

“Effort?” Tau looked toward Zaire. “But going by what you’ve said, it seems that everything you have today is entirely thanks to your boss.”

“We don’t refer to the master as our boss.” Zaire waved his hand. “My place of employment isn’t a company.”

“Hahaha, ‘Master’ is a bit of a risqué title,” Kersz said with a laugh.

“Hey, hey, hey, watch what you’re saying!” Zaire was given a shock. “I am aware that your Star Union was founded by over a dozen corporate giants, and that consequently, you may not be entirely familiar with the operation protocols of our Interstellar Alliance.”

“Apologies. I’ve offended you.” Kersz looked down at the tea in front of him.

Yu Xi recalled that Kersz’s parents were citizens of the Interstellar Alliance, and that they had been researchers. This should be considered a rather decent job, yet before meeting Yu Xi, Kersz had never tasted real food.

Zaire obviously believed that the Interstellar Alliance was more ‘refined,’ and was far superior to any of the other alliances.

After all, it would be impossible for a person like him to afford real food in any of the others.

Kersz asked him if he had ever visited any of the other alliances, and Zaire shook his head. He had lived in the Interstellar Alliance all his life.

Yu Xi understood. So this was all just Zaire’s own opinion.

Tau claimed that the majority of people in the Interstellar Alliance couldn’t afford real food, while Zaire believed that those people simply weren’t working hard enough.

“To be honest, the benefits and perks in the Interstellar Alliance are simply too good.” Savoring his food, Zaire said grandiosely, “Those people aren’t starving to death, so they can’t be bothered to climb any higher.”

Zaire firmly believed that hard work could change everything, because his own effort had earned him even greater wealth.

“Those people do nothing all day long, acting as if everyone owes them something. To put it bluntly, if they all managed to succeed, it would be downright unfair to us hardworking people.” Zaire took pride in his diligence.

Subsequently, Zaire brought up the topic of Kersz.

He was aware that his master had recently been troubled by that dangerous space pirate.

“These cynical space pirates do nothing but make trouble for others,” Zaire said, then proceeded to ask Kersz if he shared that view.

Kersz merely smiled and remarked that he had indeed heard of this space pirate, but that he hadn’t appeared within his own alliance.

“He wiped out almost the entire upper echelon of our alliance. I thought he was dead, but then he resurfaced almost immediately after.” Zaire’s aversion to Kersz seemed incomprehensible to Yu Xi.

It was as if Kersz had personally laid waste to Zaire’s happy life.

But Zaire’s parents were still alive, and his older brother was doing well. They hadn’t even been indirectly affected.

“Did you know? There are still a whole bunch of Kersz fans on the StarNet to this day,” Zaire said through gritted teeth.

“Ah?” Kersz really hadn’t known about this.

“Those people don’t view the higher-ups as human beings at all,” Zaire sneered. “They’ve never seen the true wielders of power, and figures of authority are nothing in their eyes.”

Yu Xi took a bite of lab-grown meat, then set down his utensils, having lost his appetite: “Then what is a true wielder of power like?”

Could it be that Zaire had actually met them, and had struck up a friendship with those powerful figures? Was that why he loathed Kersz so much?

“They’re actually all very even-tempered.” Whenever Zaire spoke to Yu Xi, he would unconsciously pitch his voice higher. “They always speak to others in a gentle, soft-spoken manner. Those of higher status are in fact the ones who best understand how to respect others, precisely because they are never in want of respect themselves.”

Yu Xi: “So are you friends with them?”

“Haha, how could we possibly be friends? They’ve only come as guests, and they were always very proper,” Zaire said with a smile.

Yu Xi understood: “So you just served them. You never actually interacted with them on equal footing.”

Zaire: …..

“Many people are gentle when interacting with small pets, because those small pets don’t pose a threat to them – mmph!” Kersz covered Yu Xi’s mouth with his hand.

“Sorry, this kid can be overly talkative sometimes.” Kersz offered an awkward smile.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Zaire waved a hand.

Zaire was evidently a little embarrassed as well. Once again adopting a high-pitched voice, he chatted with Yu Xi about things he thought a child would be interested in.

Yet after exchanging only a handful of words, he steered the conversation back to that space pirate, Kersz. He even asked Kersz himself, who was sitting across from him, his opinion on the matter.

“I just don’t understand these space pirates.” Kersz played along, saying, “Maybe he really is a lunatic.”

“He is a lunatic! Now, he’s even set his sights on our High Lord’s husband. This guy is really out of his mind. What exactly is he trying to do? Does he want to wipe out our entire upper echelon and leave our Interstellar Alliance completely without leadership? To make it so that we’re annexed by another alliance?” Zaire scoffed. “Just because he’s down on his luck, he wants to drag everyone else down with him? Did he even bother to ask if anyone was willing to die alongside him?”

Yu Xi was feeling a bit displeased. He came to the sudden realization that he didn’t like the human across from him, but this human still had so much he wanted to talk about.

After he finished venting, Zaire brought up his family again, expressing how much the High Lord had provided them and how they had truly proven themselves worthy of the ‘trust placed in them.’ Their entire family worked very hard, and therefore, they all enjoyed good lives.

If all of the other citizens in the Interstellar Alliance were like them, their alliance would undoubtedly be far more formidable than any others.

Yu Xi began to feel somewhat disheartened. He leaned back into Kersz’s chest, closed his eyes, and then drifted off to sleep amidst the background noise of that other human’s chatter.

He then had a very strange dream. Yu Xi dreamt that he was lying on a lotus leaf, while right beside him, a large green frog was croaking incessantly at him.

It was not a pleasant dream. 

Yu Xi groggily opened his eyes to find that Kersz had already brought him back to their living quarters.

Kersz and Tau were in the middle of a conversation.

Yu Xi listened in for a while, and realized that they were discussing their wages.

“My salary in the army wasn’t enough to buy real food, and my parents couldn’t afford it either.” Kersz stroked Yu Xi’s back as he spoke. “You’re the Supreme Governor’s Illegitimate. Did he never reward you with food?”

Kersz’s chest vibrated as he spoke. Yu Xi blinked.

“No…..I don’t have a salary, just operational funds.” Tau was playing with Xiao Konglong, but he looked a bit distracted. “Even if we were given a salary, people like us wouldn’t know how to spend it.” Their passions had been stomped out of them.

“In your estimation, how many ordinary citizens in the Interstellar Alliance can afford real food?” 

“I haven’t looked into it,” said Tau. “What do you think?”

“I figure that only those who can attach themselves to a noble can get their hands on food. Hey, tell me, where exactly are the planets that grow food?” Kersz had never concerned himself with such matters before.

“There’s so much food on Yu Xi’s planet, but how many planets have these nobles dedicated to growing crops?” Kersz held out no hope for the consciences of these high-ranking figures. “With the food being consumed so slowly, do you think the leftovers just go to waste?”

“Maybe it’s made into nutritional fluid,” said Tau.

“There’s no real food in nutritional fluid.” Kersz shook his head.

Tau: “How do you know that?”

Kersz: “They taught us that in school…..oh, right. I forgot, you’ve never been to school.”

Tau fell silent.

After a moment, he asked Kersz: “Aren’t you angry? That person kept insulting you.”

“He doesn’t even know me. What does that space pirate he was railing against have to do with me?” Pacing back and forth with Yu Xi in his arms, Kersz remarked, “He thinks those people I killed were paragons of virtue, but he doesn’t know anything about them either.”

“Not necessarily.” Tau shook his head.

Kersz: “Oh?”

“When you killed those people, you exposed the crimes they committed. It’s impossible for him not to be aware that those former leaders caused so many deaths and covered them up,” Tau said. “He just doesn’t care about the people they hurt.”

Kersz scoffed: “He thinks those victims are leeches, sucking the blood of those nobles while unwilling to work hard like him. It’s just as well that they died, right?”

Tau nodded.

Kersz blew out a breath: “How in the world does that guy manage to simultaneously accuse ordinary people of not understanding the higher-ups well enough, yet as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, he lumps them into the category of those who ‘deserve to die?’”

“Ah!” Tau looked at Yu Xi cradled in Kersz’s arms and saw that his eyes were open. “You’re awake?”

Kersz came to a halt and looked down at Yu Xi.

Yu Xi blinked: “Are you talking about that human?”

“That’s right. We’re gossiping behind his back.” Kersz smiled.

“I don’t like him,” Yu Xi said with a frown.

Tau: “Goodness, you actually dislike a human.” Yu Xi was even willing to accept an Illegitimate like him.

“Is it that you dislike that sort of jittery human?” Tau asked him. “Did he transmit his anxious mood to you?”

“It’s not that. Humans all tend to be anxious.” Yu Xi had encountered many humans like Zaire – ones who seemed to be forever seeking validation, desperate for others to look at them.

Yu Xi didn’t think there was anything wrong with that.

“But why did he have to keep badmouthing Kersz?” That was the part Yu Xi took issue with.

Yu Xi found it very strange. He was clearly able to understand the turmoil and suffering of human beings.

He knew that Zaire was seeking validation for his views, which in and of themselves were not particularly solid.

Views that required repeated validation from others were inherently unstable, because those who held them didn’t have a firm grasp of whether they were right or wrong. They required an ‘other’ to tell them ‘you’re right,’ so that they could continue on their path.

Yu Xi was quite certain that changing his mind would be remarkably easy. All it would take was his mistress, Yara, contradicting him the moment he voiced his opinion.

Yara wouldn’t even have to offer an explanation, and Zaire would immediately alter his thinking, even going so far as to steer his beliefs in the entirely opposite direction.

His beliefs were unstable.

Many humans in this world were exactly the same. Zaire was not an inexcusable anomaly, but merely an unremarkable member of the whole.

But Yu Xi was still angry. And his anger was not directed at the whole, but at Zaire himself.

Yu Xi had felt the dislike rise within him the moment that person insulted Kersz.

“I want to punch him! But I can’t punch a human for a reason like that.” Yu Xi crossed his arms over his chest, somewhat irritated. “He was clearly insulting other humans as well, and I wasn’t this upset about it.”

“But why did he have to insult Kersz?” Yu Xi was very upset.

“Even after Kersz sustained such severe injuries when he crash-landed on my planet, that human dared to badmouth him!” Yu Xi felt that Zaire’s behavior was truly reprehensible.

“But his criticism didn’t really hit the mark.” Tau didn’t feel that Zaire’s badmouthing of Kersz was all that excessive. “There are lots of people on the StarNet who abuse Kersz in much the same way.”

Yu Xi’s eyes widened.

Tau: “Kersz himself isn’t bothered by it.”

“I’m going to ban them all!” Yu Xi clenched his fists in fury.

“Don’t!” Kersz clutched the furiously squirming Yu Xi even tighter. “Those people just run their mouths online here and there.”

Yu Xi: “I won’t allow them to run their mouths!”

Kersz: “Actually, didn’t you say that my actions are pretty immature?” He recalled that the first time he got in a fight with Yu Xi, it was over this very thing.

“That’s my business!” Yu Xi struggled even harder, but didn’t dare harm Kersz.

Yu Xi didn’t revert to his adult form, but he struggled so wildly that Kersz could barely hold onto him, turning him into a rather disheveled figure. 

“Tau, give me a hand!” Kersz shouted.

Tau did not give him a hand. He felt that the conversation he’d just heard sounded somewhat familiar.

Yu Xi wriggled so fast that he was practically a blur.

Kersz: “Tau! ! !” 

Tau: “I’ve been consuming a lot of ancient human media lately from before they left Earth.”

Yu Xi yanked Kersz around, making him spin in place: “I’m not interested! Help me, ah!”

Tau was in absolutely no rush: “Have you ever watched the TV drama where a minor celebrity falls in love with a CEO?”

Kersz: “Ha?!”

Yu Xi continued to put up a fierce struggle.

That minor celebrity had faced a massive online smear campaign, and with a single command, the CEO hired a team to scrub the internet of every negative post.

Tau felt as if he was watching this in real time.

He stared for a moment at the flustered Kersz and the struggling Yu Xi, then let out a chuckle.

Yu Xi froze. Kersz also wore a look of surprise.

Both of them stared at Tau.

Tau had just been thinking who knew what, and seemed to have amused himself.

So it turned out that those stories could actually happen in reality, ah. Did that mean that Kersz was being kept by a sugar daddy? Hm, come to think of it, that was an accurate description.

“Hehe.” Tau chuckled again.

Kersz frowned and took a step back.

Yu Xi sat in his arms as he retreated, looking equally bewildered.

Tau was projecting the melodramatic stories he had watched onto Kersz and Yu Xi.

He just loved watching those over-the-top dramas, particularly the ones that didn’t touch upon reality in the slightest.

The more Tau thought about it, the more amused he was. He wondered if down the line, Yu Xi might issue a command for the entire world to set off fireworks just for Kersz’s enjoyment.

It seemed he was really capable of doing so.

Tau lowered his head and continued to laugh.

His genuine laughter escaped his throat as a strange cackle, which alarmed even Xiao Konglong.

Xiao Konglong clasped his two front claws together: “D-Daddy?”

Tau’s funny bone had been inexplicably tickled, and he was unable to stop laughing.

Yu Xi’s anger vanished into thin air, and he clutched the fabric of Kersz’s collar in fright.

Kersz was also scared. He had no idea what was wrong with Tau’s mind, and held Yu Xi even tighter.

Tau laughed for a moment longer, then asked Yu Xi: “Could you make the lights of the entire planet shine for Kersz?”

Yu Xi: “Of course.” It would be simple, After all, he himself was the master switch.

In fact, he almost never turned off the lights across his planet.

Tau pursed his lips when he received this answer.

Yu Xi: “What is it?”

Tau could no longer hold it in, and released that eerie, cackling laughter again.

Yu Xi: “Wuwuwu.” What on earth was this human’s deal?

He was never taking in an Illegitimate again. What in the world was going on in his head? It was absolutely terrifying.

Huh? What was Kersz doing?

The terrified Kersz had drawn his gun.

“Wait! Hold on!” Yu Xi hurriedly stopped him.

“He looks like he’s possessed,” said Kersz.

Yu Xi: …..

Yu Xi: “I warned you not to watch horror movies!”

---

Consider donating via Kofi here.

Chapter 38 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 40

Ch 38 – Pretending Not to See

Yu Xi noticed that Tau had become more talkative. For instance, at this very moment, he was asking Yu Xi whether he knew where Kersz had run off to.

“He went to talk business with Yara,” said Yu Xi.

“What business does he have to discuss? He’s not a real businessman.” Tau felt that since they had already found Facai, they should head back.

Facai was associating with humans of his own free will, and it was none of their business.

But Kersz steadfastly refused to return to the starship, insisting on continuing to speak with Yara.

Kersz’s identity was completely fabricated, and he had nowhere to process the resources they were talking about. What was there left to discuss?

“Maybe he wants to start a side hustle,” Yu Xi said.

Tau shook his head: “No. He wants to kill someone.”

“Your father? That’s actually quite possible.” Yu Xi’s expression turned grave. “He did threaten him.”

“But it’s possible that it’s not my father.” Tau sensed that Kersz didn’t actually care much about his father’s life. It was true that his father had planted him by Kersz’s side, but his father hadn’t been the one to harm Kersz’s parents, nor had he ever had any direct conflict with the man.

“You need to keep an eye on Kersz,” Tau warned.

“Why? Kersz is very good, ah.” Yu Xi believed that friends should trust each other wholeheartedly.

“Because Kersz’s methods are very extreme,” said Tau. “He’s a space pirate, yet he maintains almost no ties with other pirate groups. And while he has a few old acquaintances among them, he has absolutely no intention of forming a crew with them.”

“He’s destined to die young, and he’ll take as many people down with him as he can.” Tau suspected that Kersz was plotting something very dangerous.

Yu Xi didn’t share this belief: “I don’t think Kersz would put us in danger now.”

“I don’t know anything for sure, but I don’t trust him.” Tau felt that Yu Xi placed a great wealth of trust in Kersz, and this wasn’t a good thing.

“Do you know why Kersz doesn’t associate with other space pirates?” Yu Xi asked him.

He recalled that Tau used to be friends with Kersz.

“He looks down on them,” said Tau. “Or perhaps he just naturally distrusts any collective group. To be fair, the way certain space pirates operate is really extreme.”

Yu Xi: “After all, the term ‘space pirate’ does contain the character for theft.”

For a long time, such “thieves” had loomed large within the societies of the ancient humans. It was difficult to determine if they were good or bad, because while some of those who were labeled “thieves” were merely a bunch of ruthless, profit-seeking scoundrels, others were able to completely revitalize society as a whole.

“You have to guard against Kersz,” Tau warned Yu Xi. “On the down-low.”

Yu Xi frowned, looking somewhat conflicted.

“Kersz is dangerous. He’s not a docile human,” Tau continued.

“I’m going to ask him directly.” Yu Xi still didn’t want to hide anything from Kersz.

Tau: “…..Don’t.” 

“But if he found out that I was secretly guarding against him, wouldn’t he become estranged from me?” Once they became estranged, Yu Xi would no longer be able to touch the human.

“He hides something from you, and you guard against him – I think that’s perfectly fair.” Tau didn’t believe that Kersz would pull away from Yu Xi over such a trivial matter.

Yu Xi thought for a while, then came to a ridiculous conclusion: “Then if I’m not guarding against him, but he’s still hiding something from me…..doesn’t that mean he’s crossing a line?”

Ah? Could it be looked at like that?

Tau didn’t quite get it, but after thinking it over carefully, he felt that Yu Xi’s words made sense: “He really is crossing a line.”

The cyan glow in Yu Xi’s eyes dimmed slightly: “Is he keeping things from me because I’m not worthy of his trust?”

“I thought I was the only one he didn’t trust,” said Tau. “I never expected him not to trust you either.”

“But you’re a fake friend,” said Yu Xi.

Tau: “You’re not wrong.”

“And I’m a real one.”

Tau: ……

Tau found the term ‘real friend’ rather dubious. He still suspected that these two were hooking up.

Yu Xi came to a realization that deeply saddened him: “He won’t tell me, because he doesn’t trust me, his real friend! I’m his friend!”

“I get it now. It must be because I’m a robot that he’s shutting me out.” Yu Xi started to make connections. “The ancient humans always liked to shut me out, telling me not to worry so much. Ultimately, I had no way to access their thoughts, nor could I share their true experiences or comprehend their deaths.”

“Now Kersz is going to shut me out too, just because I’m a robot and not a human.” Yu Xi felt a numbness spread throughout every part of his body. He was so sad. So very sad.

“Not necessarily.” Tau felt that something wasn’t right about Yu Xi’s current state, and gave him a pat on the back.

He began to wonder if he shouldn’t have brought this topic up in the first place.

Tau pondered whether or not to use his great talent with platitudes to comfort Yu Xi, but didn’t think he would fall for that sort of thing.

Maybe he could try to distract him?

Tau started with bringing up Yu Xi’s past. His original intention was to ask him how much of his past with Facai he could recall, but the memories that surfaced in Yu Xi’s mind were evidently far more distant, and what he remembered was the most deeply-etched memory of separation and loss he had ever known.

The previous human he had lived with had just passed away. Yu Xi gazed helplessly at the weeping humans around him and asked his new master: “What happened to him? Is he not going to wake up?”

With tears welling in his eyes, that human had gazed at Yu Xi with a profoundly complex expression.

The human was crying, yet he also seemed to be smiling. Smiling at Yu Xi’s ignorance.

He said: “You’re really just a robot, aren’t you?”

“You don’t need to understand. You just need to know that humans are different from you. We’re not robots who will always have a tomorrow.” The human said, “Our tomorrows always run out at some point.”

Yu Xi had already witnessed human death many times over, but this time, his feelings about it were distinctly different. There was a strange numbness in his heart, as if something was drifting away from him and he was helpless to stop it.

He could only attempt to seek answers from the descendent left behind by that human.

Yet that human believed that he didn’t understand the event that was unfolding. That he didn’t understand the weight of such a parting.

Yu Xi received no answers. He had been inexplicably shut out.

At the thought of this, Yu Xi withdrew into himself.

He returned to his room, locked the door, and buried himself under the covers.

When Kersz returned, he once again found Tau pacing back and forth in front of Yu Xi’s door.

“What’s up with you? Do you need something from Yu Xi again?” Kersz asked in confusion.

Tau came to a halt, and upon spotting Kersz, he exclaimed in relief: “You came back just in time!”

“What’s going on?” Kersz asked.

“Yu Xi seems to be angry,” said Tau.

“What have you done now?” Kersz was appalled. “Did you ignore Yu Xi again when he tried to comfort you?”

“I warned Yu Xi to be on guard against you because you aren’t a peaceful human.” Tau grabbed Kersz’s wrist.

Kersz: …..

Kersz: “Should you really be repeating that right to my face?”

“I think I’m right. You’re definitely up to no good right now,” said Tau.

Kersz raised an eyebrow.

He believed that Yu Xi had a very good understanding of his character. Yu Xi was well aware that he had threatened the Supreme Governor, and since he’d never brought the matter up with him, Kersz had assumed that Yu Xi tacitly condoned certain actions of his.

“Then he got angry,” Tau said.

“Because you sowed discord between us?” Kersz asked.

“No, he’s angry at you.” Tau’s brow furrowed. “Why do you always steer the conversation back to me? I’m human too, and he doesn’t dislike me that much.”

Kersz: “…..You’re saying that Yu Xi is mad at me？”

Tau: “He feels that he let his guard down around you, but you’re still keeping something from him.”

“He must have known all along that I’ve been keeping something from him, so why did he suddenly get angry now?!” Kersz was flabbergasted.

How had Yu Xi skipped right past the suspicion, inner turmoil, and defensiveness and transitioned directly into anger?

Tau spread his hands: “In any case, it’s your problem. I haven’t hidden anything from him. I was kidnapped and brought here, and I’ve been completely honest the entire time.”

Kersz looked at Tau.

Tau continued: “I also don’t want to kill anyone. I’ve just been living my life alongside Xiao Konglong. I haven’t even sold my body to win his favor, so it’s not like he’d be angry at me.”

“That’s enough out of you.” Kersz gritted his teeth.

“I hope that next time, you won’t inexplicably suspect me. I’m very well-behaved.” Tau felt that he was honest to a fault.

Kersz didn’t argue with him further.

“Speaking of which, are you the one who taught him that groping inside someone’s mouth is a form of interaction between close friends?” Tau was still curious. “Real friends wouldn’t do something like that.”

“What does that have to do with you?!” Kersz knocked on the door, but there was no response from inside.

“I’m just really curious about your motives. What exactly do you hope to gain by doing all of this?” Tau felt certain that Kersz had a bigger plan in the works. “He doesn’t know what kind of interactions are normal between friends. But surely you do, right?”

“That’s enough!” Kersz was getting a bit annoyed.

“If you keep going like this – mmph!” Before Tau could finish speaking, Kersz slapped a hand over his mouth and pressed a gun to his temple.

Tau composed himself very quickly.

Kersz shouted: “I’m going to blow your brains out!”

Tau stared back at him coldly.

A moment later, the door opened.

“Don’t do something so extreme,” Yu Xi leaned out to warn Kersz.

“Then can we talk?” Kersz asked.

Tau pried away the hand Kersz was holding over his mouth: “I knew it.”

Kersz mouthed a fierce ‘shut up’ at Tau.

Then he followed Yu Xi into the room.

Xiao Konglong ran up to Tau and tugged the leg of this trousers with his front claws.

Tau picked him up.

Kersz was just throwing a fit out of embarrassment. He and Yu Xi were definitely hooking up.

This space pirate was just too wicked, and far too good at deceiving others.

“I mean, it’s possible.” Facai’s projection suddenly materialized beside Tau. “Isn’t it possible that his thoughts toward Yu Xi are pure?”

Tau stared at Facai, giving no reaction whatsoever.

Having expected a response, Facai asked: “Hey, did you hear me?”

Holding Xiao Konglong in his arms, Tau returned to his room.

Why had Facai suddenly shown up? And why was he acting like they were on good terms?

Tau stroked Xiao Konglong.

Showing up out of nowhere to pass judgment on other people’s relationships….was he just some random extra from a third-rate drama?

Had he existed for so long that he had lost his mind?

Tau didn’t think that he and that computer system had anything to talk about.

Back in the control room, Facai couldn’t help but heave another sigh.

The researcher: “I can’t even drink water?” He set down his cup.

“But not drinking water makes one prone to kidney stones,” he said, looking somewhat conflicted.

In the interest of maintaining his enigmatic persona, Facai didn’t usually chat with the researchers here. But this time, he subconsciously chimed in: “Hey…..why are you telling me this? What business is it of mine whether or not you drink water?”

The researcher felt a little like crying. He was being bullied by a computer system.

*

*

“It’s true that I have a new target – a space pirate ringleader who’s involved in smuggling. I encountered him at that banquet, but of course he was in disguise at the time.” Kersz explained his intentions to Yu Xi in detail.

“How did you see through his disguise?” Kersz’s candidness took Yu Xi by surprise.

“A few subtle mannerisms made me suspicious, so I struck up a conversation with him,” Kersz explained.

“Ah…..oh.” Yu Xi had originally thought he would have to interrogate Kersz repeatedly before he would tell him anything.

Kersz interpreted his surprise as dissatisfaction, and continued: “This guy doesn’t just smuggle energy sources. He’ll smuggle anything that turns a profit, from contraband to people.”

“People?!” Yu Xi exclaimed. “How….how does such a thing still exist in this interstellar era?”

“They didn’t have that among the ancient humans?” Kersz was a little surprised.

“I don’t know…..I never encountered it.” Yu Xi had never dealt with humans of that sort.

“Do you still remember me telling you that the reason the mining planets employ real humans instead of androids is because the accident compensation is far cheaper than the cost of manufacturing an android?”

Yu Xi nodded.

“He doesn’t even have to pay compensation if something happens to the people he sells, and he doesn’t have to pay anyone a salary either. There’s just a relatively small buyout fee.”

“T-that kind of thing actually happens?” Yu Xi still found it difficult to believe. He had assumed that human traffickers of his sort had vanished long before humanity ever ventured into the stars.

“If there’s profit to be made, of course someone will do it.” Kersz nodded.

“Then does he specifically kidnap Illegitimates?” Yu Xi recalled that Illegitimates were all ‘ghosts,’ unregistered and untraceable, which would make them particularly convenient targets for kidnapping.

“Quite the opposite.” Kersz shrugged. “Behind every Illegitimate stands a figure of power and influence. Raising one requires a lot of capital, and someone like the Supreme Governor would never allow one of his own to be squandered like that.”

“He actually steers clear of Illegitimates so that he doesn’t offend powerful people.” In reality, it was ordinary citizens who were taken. They were kidnapped from one alliance, and then their identity chips were gouged out before they were sold to another faction.

“The Supreme Governor and his people actually associate with human traffickers?” Yu Xi’s eyes widened. “Do they want undocumented individuals to do their mining for them?”

“No, they probably wouldn’t try to buy anybody. After all, they’d be finished if it was ever exposed.” Kersz figured that the Supreme Governor’s household had other vested interests tied to this space pirate ringleader.

“I’m going to take this opportunity to get rid of him,” Kersz said. “But I won’t be the one to do it. I plan to make the Supreme Governor and his people do it themselves.”

“After all, we’re still on this planet, and for me to take direct action would be far too big of a risk. Not to mention that just killing him won’t solve the problem.” Kersz wanted to unearth evidence and expose certain insider secrets. Then he would reveal the other party’s true identity, thereby forcing the Supreme Governor to purge this space pirate himself.

“And that’s my plan,” said Kersz.

Yu Xi: “Wow!”

Kersz: “So….does that make you angry?”

Yu Xi shook his head.

“Then what were you angry about just now?” Kersz asked.

“I was angry at you for not telling me anything! We’re obviously friends!” After furiously finishing what he had to say, Yu Xi felt a little awkward.

And that was it. Because Kersz had laid out all of his plans and goals, depriving Yu Xi of the ability to ask follow-up questions.

However, Yu Xi soon found another point of contention: “Since you’re willing to tell me all of this, why didn’t you tell me right from the start?! Why did I have to be the one to ask?”

“I….I’m not really used to this.” Kersz lowered his head. “Besides, we ultimately have different goals, and you might not necessarily like what I’m doing.”

“Whether I like it or not, you should still tell me.” Yu Xi placed his hands on his hips.

“I’m sorry.” Kersz didn’t know the reason for his nerves, but he had been genuinely terrified that Yu Xi would stop speaking to him altogether. Or alternatively, that he might take a step back and stop playing those intimate “mini-games.”

Suddenly, Tau’s words rang out his Kersz’s mind.

“He doesn’t know what kind of interactions are normal between friends. But surely you do, right?”

Kersz certainly knew that things between him and Yu Xi were not normal, but he had chosen to ignore that fact.

The reason was simple: he craved Yu Xi’s touch.

He was a greedy person, and took particular satisfaction in the special way Yu Xi treated him.

Once he realized how important Yu Xi was to him, he was desperate to pull out all the stops, to exhaust every conceivable method to bind him to his side.

He wanted the most profound kind of bond.

Was this the distance between friends?

Kersz thought it must be, because it couldn’t be anything else.

Kersz dared not contemplate going any further. He lacked the capacity to make a deeper commitment. The resentment he held toward this world had not yet faded, and he feared that the fire in his heart might one day turn upon him, consuming him entirely.

What would happen if by that time, his relationship with Yu Xi had already broken free from the confines of “friendship” and moved in a deeper direction?

Kersz squeezed his eyes shut, feeling every muscle in his body tense up.

Suddenly, a hand was placed on top of his head.

Yu Xi stroked his hair: “I’ll back you up this time.”

Kersz jerked his head up to stare at Yu Xi.

“That guy is absolutely rotten! He actually kidnaps humans!” Having said this, Yu Xi realized that he resembled this remark too closely, and hurried to set the record straight for himself. “I’m different. I want humans to live happily on my planet, but he’s treating them cruelly!”

“You’re doing the right thing,” Yu Xi affirmed. He assumed that Kersz was worried he would stand in his way.

Kersz felt the touch of Yu Xi’s palm, and at this very moment, he actually hoped that Yu Xi would reprimand him. Otherwise, Kersz felt that he would only spiral even further.

“You really are honest.” Yu Xi felt his anger melt away. As it turned out, Kersz hadn’t intended to shut him out emotionally. He was just nervous.

This, in itself, was a very wondrous emotional experience.

Yu Xi stroked Kersz’s head over and over, and noticed his eyes sliding shut.

This human was really enjoying himself.

Met with such a response to his petting, Yu Xi stroked even more vigorously.

Kersz gazed at the robot in front of him, whose was looking at him with an expression of novelty: “My plan involves killing someone.”

“I know.” Yu Xi felt no pity for the pirate leader.

“In the future…..I might kill again,” Kersz said.

Yu Xi’s movements paused, and he let out a helpless sigh: “You really are a fierce human.”

“Maybe you should resort to extreme measures, such as locking me up,” Kersz suggested.

Kersz didn’t quite understand what was going through his mind, but strangely enough, he was secretly hoping that Yu Xi would do exactly that. Although he knew that his fury would be difficult to contain, as long as Yu Xi locked him up, all of his resistance would be futile.

At least then, Yu Xi wouldn’t have to live in a constant state of worry.

“I certainly won’t do that.” Yu Xi didn’t even consider it as an option. “That’s not how you treat a friend.”

Yu Xi simply felt that he needed to accept the fact that he had made a friend with a strong personality, rather than trying to find ways to stifle that individuality.

No sooner had he finished speaking than Kersz lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Yu Xi’s head.

Yu Xi’s nose was pressed against Kersz’s chest: “Kersz?”

Kersz lowered his head and brushed his lips against Yu Xi’s.

“Kersz, Tau says the way we are together doesn’t look like friendship,” said Yu Xi.

“What does he know?” Kersz covered Yu Xi’s mouth again with his own, stifling the rest of his words.

After the kiss ended, Kersz asked him: “Do you like this?”

“I like it.” Yu Xi actually knew that there was something a bit abnormal about the way they were together. He had met plenty of humans, and none of their friendships were like this.

But as for anything deeper, Yu Xi hardly dared to imagine it.

He knew he had never truly integrated into human society, and feared that taking their relationship a step further would ruin what they already had. Because Yu Xi was not yet able to see through the complexity of humans, and he didn’t feel like he fully understood himself either.

Kersz sat on Yu Xi’s lap, and Yu Xi felt him take his hand and place it against his chest: “Good friend of mine, would you like to touch?”

Yu Xi felt that Kersz’s gaze at this moment was somewhat like that of a wolf staring at meat.

In his eyes, that look was a little bit…..attractive.

He was a beautiful and dangerous human.

Yu Xi couldn’t help but feel that they were engaging in a futile act of self-deception, pretending that everything was fine even when the fire was on the verge of burning the house to the ground.

“You look like you want to eat me,” said Kersz.

Unable to see his own expression, Yu Xi could only say earnestly: “I really do want to eat you.”

Kersz pressed his smile against Yu Xi’s shoulder.

Yu Xi smiled back.

He loved the taste of this human. And he loved this feeling of everything going out of control.

---

Consider donating via Kofi here.

Chapter 37 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 39

Ch. 109 – Dawn Arrives

The shattered ghost mask was no longer capable of concealing his face, and since the person opposite him already knew who he was, it didn’t matter anymore. Ling Yun slowly lowered the hand that had been hiding his face.

Only when Ling Yun’s hand dropped completely did Fang Yang and the others realize who he was.

Such was their shock that they froze on the spot. This person, this face….they had seen him before on that jade slip in the sect’s archives that chronicled the events of a century past. He was the former sect leader of Lingxiao Sword Sect: Ling Yun.

He was supposed to have perished in the heavenly fire, yet here he stood before them today, as a malevolent spirit of the Path of the Underworld.

The ghost mask had been hideous, but Ling Yun himself was actually quite handsome. His eyebrows were sharp and blade-like, and every glance and gesture carried an air of unrestrained arrogance. Yet rather than being off-putting, this loftiness gave him a sense of presence that was impossible to imitate.

As the strongest cultivator in the mortal realm, he had once ascended to its pinnacle and truly looked down upon the world

However, that was the Ling Yun of one hundred years ago.

Not this…..person?…..who was standing before them now.

Was he even human?

Half of his face did indeed look the same as it had one hundred years ago, yet his demeanor was no longer as flamboyant. The muscles of his face seemed to have become stiff and dead over the course of this century, and he was completely expressionless.

And as for the other half…..the left half of his face didn’t have a shred of intact skin. The burn scars stretched from his face all the way down his neck, and although the rest of him was concealed by clothing, one could guess that it was likely just as disfigured as his face.

And in addition to the burns, the left side of his face bore marks reminiscent of cuts from a sharp object, hideous and ghastly where they mingled with the burns.

This was a face capable of giving nightmares to the faint of heart.

Fang Yang didn’t consider himself to be a timid person, but seeing that face still caused his breath to briefly lodge in his throat. The fear that face made him feel was even worse than what he’d felt toward the man-eating skeletons.

Cao Zirui was also wide-eyed in disbelief. This person was really……

Hao Chen was no less astonished than the other two. Had it been absolutely anyone else, this Rakshasa wouldn’t have surprised him nearly to this extent.

But as far as surprise went, nobody present was nearly as impacted as Feng Ye.

A century ago, it was he who severed Jianmu with his own hands, and also he…..who killed all those people, including Ling Yun.

It wasn’t until a hundred years later, when he personally descended to the mortal realm to investigate the matter of Jianmu, that he finally learned this human’s name.

The source of the blade wounds on the left side of Ling Yun’s face was unknown, but there wasn’t a shadow of a doubt that those burn scars came from Feng Ye.

Feng Ye pressed his lips tight, but continued to meet Ling Yun’s gaze unwaveringly. Staring into those eyes that held a hatred so deep that it was suffocating, he didn’t flinch.

Time seemed to stand still as Feng Ye and Ling Yun stared at each other, motionless. Fang Yang and the others hardly dared to breathe as they stood perfectly still in the midst of this thoroughly eerie atmosphere.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ling Yun broke the silence. His gaze shifted to rest on Feng Ye’s left shoulder, which bore an inch-long wound that had been inflicted by his sword.

Although the wound wasn’t deep, blood continued to seep from the broken flesh. A corner of Ling Yun’s mouth tugged up at the sight.

His face seemed to have grown accustomed to its death-like rigidity, and his sudden attempt at a smile seemed as stiff as gears grinding back into motion after a period of disuse.

But despite the difficulty, he still forced a smile so strange that it hardly qualified as such.

He said to Feng Ye in a hoarse voice: “So you bleed as well.”

Even a lofty god of heaven could be wounded by him, a mere mortal, flesh torn open and bleeding profusely under his sword.

Feng Ye’s expression remained unchanged, and he only pursed his lips a little tighter.

But Hao Chen immediately snapped out of his stupor when he heard this, recalling with sudden clarity that Feng Ye had been injured.

His dragon had been injured!

This prompted him to immediately walk over and reach out, intending to cradle Feng Ye’s arm and carefully examine the wound.

But just as his hand was about to make contact, Feng Ye lightly shifted away to evade his touch.

Hao Chen froze. Although Feng Ye didn’t speak a word, his movement conveyed a crystal clear sense of rejection.

He stared at Feng Ye’s profile, but the other man didn’t return his gaze.

Hao Chen suddenly recalled the words that black serpent had spoken to him earlier, that Feng Ye would never fall for anyone. Considering the absolute certainty in thing’s words, perhaps it wasn’t a baseless assertion.

“Hehe.” A man’s low chuckle rang out, deep and resonant in a way that set it apart from Ling Yun’s raspy voice.

Hao Chen raised his head and looked toward Ling Yun. Just as he had been thinking about that black snake, it dropped in uninvited.

The black snake had climbed its way up to Ling Yun’s neck at some point, and now coiled itself around his shoulders. Its tongue flickered out as it greeted Feng Ye: “I told you we would meet again.”

Feng Ye frowned deeply, his gaze shifting between the black snake and Ling Yun.

One fact was now perfectly clear: Ling Yun was in league with this creature from the Emberless Horizon.

But as for how they had come to work together and what their exact intentions were, Feng Ye was completely in the dark. In fact, even now, he had yet to recover from the shock of seeing Ling Yun.

Feng Ye’s gaze wavered briefly before ultimately resettling on Ling Yun. Despite the mystery this creature represented, Feng Ye was far interested in discovering the reason for Ling Yun’s appearance.

His lips parted slightly as he appeared to speak, but before a single word could leave his mouth, something unexpected happened.

The ground trembled, and rocky soil rained down from overhead. Feng Ye looked up, only to find that the Grand Array was collapsing.

Ling Yun and the black snake around his shoulders mirrored him, and the black snake sighed with regret: “It seems these ruins are simply too ancient.”

The combined Six Paths of Reincarnation Array and the Eight Ghosts Illusion Array had not been created by him or Ling Yun, but were left behind by the people of Western Qiang. He had simply requisitioned them for his own use.

One thousand years later, although Western Qiang’s Grand Array for refining ghosts was still usable, it was now collapsing under the ravages of time before another malevolent ghost could be successfully forged.

And once these ruins collapsed, the meters-thick layer of rock above their heads would come crashing down. They couldn’t afford to linger here.

The black snake could only cast Feng Ye one final, regretful glance before hissing in Ling Yun’s ear: “Let’s go.”

Ling Yun didn’t hesitate in the slightest. Without taking his eyes off Feng Ye, he took a few steps back and then turned around and stepped through the stone door nearest to him.

Seeing that the stone door was about to close again, Fang Yang went to chase after him despite not being clear on the situation.

This Grand Array gave them no clues as to where to find the exit, and he had absolutely no idea how to escape.

But the path Ling Yun had taken was certain to be a way out. If they allowed him to leave, he, his Useless Shixiong, and the others would be left trapped here.

Cao Zirui reacted at the same moment. No matter how shocking it was that Ling Yun was still alive, that information didn’t take precedence over making it out of here. The two of them sprinted forward together, intent on stopping Ling Yun from escaping. But when they were halfway across the chamber, they were stopped by Feng Ye.

He watched as Ling Yun departed and watched as the stone door closed, making no move to stop him.

“Shixiong, how do we get out, ah?” 

Fang Yang was anxious. He couldn’t figure out why Useless Shixiong was blocking their way.

Dirt and rocks fell continuously from above, and the tremors beneath their feet surged to the point that they could barely keep their footing. If they stayed here any longer, they might very well end up buried here forever.

Feng Ye offered no explanation, but said with absolute certainty, “I have a solution.”

Without bothering to explain to Fang Yang and the others what exactly that solution was, he simply walked straight to the very center of the platform, where the angles of the stone doors intersected.

This was the center of the Grand Array, and also the key to opening a way out.

In the end, the underlying principle behind this array meant to refine the most malevolent of ghosts was actually quite simple. It wasn’t quite clear at the beginning, but upon reaching the center of the array, Feng Ye was able to discern a way out.

The Six Paths of Reincarnation Array divided those who entered it onto different paths, depending on their respective identities and characteristics. These Six Paths constituted the cycle of reincarnation, from which all sentient beings, even the gods, were unable to escape.

However, this array was only a mimicry of the true Six Paths of Reincarnation, and only had one exit: The Ghostly Path.

Once those who entered the array were bewitched by the illusions within and transformed into malevolent spirits, the exit would open naturally.

However, the four of them had not truly transformed into malevolent spirits after emerging from the Six Paths of Reincarnation array. Hao Chen was a true god, and this array was unable to drag him onto the Ghostly Path, nor was it able to trap him.

Fang Yang and Cao Zirui had found their way out entirely on their own, whereas Feng Ye had slaughtered his way through.

The aura of bloodlust and malevolence drenching him was indistinguishable from that of an actual Ashura. The array lacked human intelligence, and determined whether or not someone had fallen to the Ghostly Path by measuring their aura of humanity. Once the aura of humanity clinging to Feng Ye was obscured by resentful energy, he would be classified as a malevolent spirit.

As for the two bandits and their vicious dog, they had already been indistinguishable from ghosts and monsters before entering the battle. The array had little chance to bewitch them, making their passage through the first stage very easy.

Then came the second stage: The Eight Ghosts Illusion Array.

Transformed by the Eight Ghosts Illusion Array, the ghosts would clash here in battle and devour one another. The fastest method of cultivation for ghosts and monsters was to devour their own kind, much like that three-headed dog just now which had grown in power after consuming the hungry ghost.

When only the final victor remained, the ultimate malevolent ghost would be born as a conglomeration of the power of the eight original ghosts.

At that time, the exit to the array would open as well.

But the fact that Feng Ye had been able to make it through the Six Paths of Reincarnation proved that this array could be deceived. As long as the power of a single ghost was sufficiently strong, so great that the array considered it to be the ultimate malevolent ghost, the exit would open anyway.

And for Feng Ye, disguising himself as such a malevolent ghost was not a difficult feat.

Gripping the hilt of his sword in both hands, he angled the blade downward with a twist of his wrists and thrust it forcefully into the ground.

The long blade cut through solid stone, and the aura of carnage emanating from Feng Ye’s body flowed down the blade into the core of the array.

As he made his move, the six previously dim candles beside the six stone doors leaped without warning to a height of well over a meter.

The tremors immediately intensified, but this was not a sign of imminent collapse. It was the sound of mechanical components grinding to life.

Fang Yang and Cao Zirui were elated. It seemed that Feng Ye really did have a way to open an exit.

But in the midst of their joy, they failed to notice the bulging veins in Feng Ye’s arms, and that the wound on his left arm had torn open again from the exertion and was gushing blood like a spring. But he had no time to tend to the bleeding. The exit must be opened at once.

Hao Chen had been standing silently near Feng Ye all this while, and although he frowned at what he saw, he didn’t attempt to approach him again.

He had already been rejected once, but Fang Yang had not.

Hao Chen feigned an air of nonchalance as he tapped Fang Yang with his fan. Fang Yang reflexively turned around, and his gaze landed on the profusely bleeding Feng Ye..

He immediately went to Feng Ye, intending to cover the wound and stop the bleeding. But even while propping himself up on his sword, stuck in place as he channeled resentful energy into the core of the array, Feng Ye sensed someone approaching his wound and instinctively shouted: “Don’t touch me!”

His tone was so uncharacteristically aggressive that Fang Yang instantly froze in place.

A moment later, Feng Ye lowered his gaze to conceal his momentary loss of composure.

Hao Chen tapped his palm with his fan. It seemed his hunch was correct.

Animals were always more difficult to approach when injured, fearing that even greater harm would come to them.

At this moment, Feng Ye was the same. The wounded dragon refused to let anyone approach him. And it wasn’t just Hao Chen. He couldn’t even bring himself to let his guard down around Fang Yang, who was about as harmless as a little white rabbit.

Such distrust, as well as the distance he put between himself and others, seemed etched into his very bones.

A person who refused to trust others naturally wouldn’t fall for anyone either.

Hao Chen watched cold sweat trickle down Feng Ye’s temple in response to the pain of his wound, thinking to himself, Feng Ye…..how did the legendary God of War end up like this?

But before he could arrive at an answer, a protruding stone slab overhead finally loosened under the violent tremors and came crashing down.

This slab weighed several tons, and would inevitably crush anyone it fell on into a bloody pulp. It was falling straight toward Feng Ye.

Disregarding Feng Ye’s previous aggression, Fang Yang called out urgently: “Shixiong!”

But the exit was not yet fully open, and if Feng Ye stepped aside now, all of his previous effort would go to waste.

Feng Ye glanced up at the slab hurtling down from above, then grit his teeth and remained in place.

Hao Chen tightened his grip on his folding fan, but just as he was about to move, something unexpected happened.

Feng Ye suddenly freed one of his hands and used it to grasp the sharp edge of his blade. Blood swelled from his palm, mingling with the blood from his shoulder wound and dripping down onto the array.

This fresh blood accelerated the opening of the exit, and just before the stone slab could smash into Feng Ye, the Grand Array sensed a sufficient concentration of sacrificial blood and finally began to activate.

Feng Ye threw himself into a side roll, narrowly evading the falling slab.

With a crash, it slammed into the ground and sent cracks spidering across it.

At the same time, a passage opened overhead. Everyone looked up, only then realizing that the stone slab overhead had been blocking a door.

But wait, there wasn’t just one. The over fifty-meter distance to the surface was lined with eighteen stone doors, resembling the eighteen layers of the underworld.

The eighteen stone doors opened in succession, revealing to everyone’s eyes a vertical shaft shooting straight down into the earth.

It was dusk when they entered the underground ruins, and now it was the pitch-black of midnight. Although the opening didn’t let in much light, it was enough to raise everyone’s spirits.

Yet before happiness showed on any of their faces, another set of stone doors swung open abruptly.

And through the six doors they had all traveled through to get here poured an unending stream of skeletons.

Their hollow eye sockets burned with hatred and resentment. All of them had been vanquished in the struggle between malevolent spirits, their skeletal remains trapped forever within this ghost-refining array. Yet now, these humans were able to leave.

They lunged forward as if they had gone mad, trying to make them stay, to ensure that they were buried alongside them deep beneath the earth where the light of day couldn’t reach.

Feng Ye spared the swarming skeletons a glance and let out a scoff. This was certainly not part of the original array’s design. More than likely, it was the work of Ling Yun and that creature accompanying him.

He shouted toward Fang Yang and the others, who were still staring dumbfounded at the skeletons shambling toward them: “Go!”

This shout snapped the others out of their daze, and they immediately headed toward where the ranks of the skeletons were thinnest, where they could break through the encirclement and climb up the rock face to escape the Grand Array.

The skeletons weren’t difficult to deal with. Despite their terrifying appearances, their combat strength was inferior to that of most ordinary monsters, and Fang Yang and Cao Zirui were able to handle them with ease despite their inability to use their spiritual power.

But that didn’t apply to the army of thousands streaming toward them.

The edge of a blade shattered one to pieces, only for the next to lunge forward in its place. The stream of enemies was inexhaustible.

But most of the skeletons seemed to be focused on Feng Ye, and there were far more crowding around him than the others.

Feng Ye realized that this was likely because of the blood drenching his entire body. It wasn’t just his own, but was mixed with the blood of those he had massacred inside the Path of Carnage.

A single drop of fresh blood would have been enough for these skeletons to pursue him relentlessly, and he was absolutely covered in it.

Feng Ye’s mind raced. With a slash of his sword, he swept away the skeletons blocking the path of Fang Yang and the others, shouting: “You go ahead, I’ll cover our retreat!”

“But…..” Fang Yang hesitated.

Neither Fang Yang nor Cao Zirui heeded Feng Ye’s order to leave.

It was Hao Chen who took the lead. Grabbing the two boys in each hand, he dragged them over to the rock wall and said: “You’ll only be a burden if you stay here. It’s better for you to leave immediately.”

He wasn’t wrong. Although Feng Ye’s cultivation was at the third level of Qi Refining, the lowest among the four of them, none of them were able to use spiritual power at the moment, and they couldn’t hope to match Feng Ye’s ability with a sword.

As the group hesitated, the skeletons pushed forward once more, and it looked as if the path Feng Ye had cleared for them was about to be obstructed.

Fang Yang finally made up his mind and called out to Cao Zirui beside him: “We’ll leave first!”

Having said this, he pulled Cao Zirui along to climb up the rock wall.

Hao Chen glanced back at Feng Ye. Seeing that Feng Ye was still fighting effortlessly despite being surrounded by the horde of skeletons, he began to climb up beside the two boys.

Feng Ye swung his sword in a horizontal slash at chest height, shattering the three skeletons in front him with a single strike. Without pause, he immediately turned his blade and slashed backward, sending three more heads tumbling to the ground.

He glanced up during a pause in the battle and saw that Fang Yang and the others had already climbed about halfway up. Done waiting, he seized an opening to break through the skeletons and rushed toward the rock wall.

He broke into a jog to build momentum, and just before he would crash into the wall of rock, he leaped into the air. With a tap-tap-tap of his toes against rock, he shot upward three or four meters to put distance between himself and the skeletons still in hot pursuit behind him.

He glanced back again to find that the skeletons were attempting to scale the rock wall, but their bare, flesh-less bones moved with awkward difficulty. They were fully capable of walking, but climbing required the use of countless muscles throughout the body.

One by one, the skeletons attempted to clamber up, and one by one, they failed. The highest any of them was able to climb was one meter.

But before Feng Ye could breathe a sigh of relief, he witnessed the astonishing sight of the skeletons stacking themselves on top of one another, forming a ladder of bones as they climbed upward by stepping on the bodies of their companions.

Seeing this, Feng Ye stopped stalling and swiftly made his way upward. But the skeletons knew that if they allowed these people to leave, it was likely that no living person would ever enter this underground hell again.

So they threw themselves upward impulsively, resentment and unwillingness uniting them like never before. The ladder climbed higher and higher, soon overtaking the speed of Feng Ye’s climbing pace.

Fang Yang and the others had already climbed out of the Grand Array, and the boy urged anxiously from the exit: “Shixiong, hurry up!”

Feng Ye was already moving as fast as he could. The wounds on his left arm and the palm of his hand had gone from pain to numbness, and his lips were bloodless, but he couldn’t afford to stop.

He estimated the distance between himself and the exit. There was still time.

However, luck didn’t seem to be in his favor today. The open stone door had begun to close, and judging by the speed, it would seal itself shut before he managed to climb out.

Upon seeing this, Fang Yang and Cao Zirui used their swords to brace against the stone door on both sides. But the force behind the door was unexpectedly strong, and even with both of them working together, they could just barely hold it back.

The two of them only managed to slow it down slightly, despite using their hands and feet and straining so hard that their faces went red.

Feng Ye didn’t dwell on whether or not he would make it in time, and simply gave his all to climbing upward.

By the time he was finally one meter from the exit, it was only wide enough for one person to climb through. And right on his heels, the horde of skeletons had caught up with him. Atop the countless bones of its companions, the highest skeleton grasped Feng Ye’s ankle and clung to it stubbornly, attempting to drag him back down.

Directly above Feng Ye, Hao Chen reached out and shouted down to him: “Grab my hand!”

Feng Ye hesitated, looking up into peach blossom eyes that were normally so frivolous, but which now were now filled with anxiety.

Time seemed to slow down as a flurry of thoughts raced through Feng Ye’s head. If he were to take a flying leap now, although he had no chance of reaching the exit, he would be able to reach Hao Chen’s hand.

Then he could use that leverage to haul himself upward at a faster speed than he could achieve by climbing on his own.

For the average person, this choice wouldn’t require a moment’s thought. But when it came to Feng Ye, his choices often ran contrary to those of everyone else.

He couldn’t trust that pair of hands reaching down from the cliff’s edge. They looked like salvation, but there was always the possibility that they would let go just as he thought he had been saved.

Entrusting his life to the hands of others…..Feng Ye had long since stopped making such a foolish mistake.

But at this moment, he looked into Hao Chen’s eyes and saw his own reflection mirrored in them, as well as the ladder of skeletons ascending from below.

There was something unknown behind the anxiety in those eyes that ensnared him, and although he couldn’t define it, he sensed that it must be something very tender and beautiful.

Struck by some strange impulse, he pushed off the rock wall and lunged upward to grasp Hao Chen’s hand mid-air.

Hao Chen gripped him tightly in response, as if he would refuse to let go even in death.

He hauled Feng Ye upward, along with the stubborn skeleton that refused to release its grip on his ankle.

The moment Feng Ye was fully out, Fang Yang and Cao Zirui ran out of strength. They pulled back the swords they had been bracing against and tumbled to the ground, and the lack of resistance caused the stone door to slam shut.

The skeleton gripping Feng Ye had managed to extend only a portion of its arm before the stone door severed it.

Feng Ye pried the skeletal hand from his ankle and tossed it aside.

Then he collapsed in place along with Hao Chen, tilting his head back to gaze at the round sun rising on the horizon to the east.

Dawn had arrived.

---

Consider donating via Kofi here.

Chapter 108 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 110