Ch. 119 – “Does it hurt?”

At a market town near Longqiu.

Due to its remote location, this market town was naturally not as prosperous as those of the Central Plains. Most people here were locals, with outside visitors being a rare occurrence.

For this reason, the market town only boasted a single inn.

Even with a lack of competitors, the business at this inn remained so poor that it was barely hanging on to solvency.

Longqiu was just too remote. Although its soil was fertile, the yield of grain was only slightly higher than in other areas. And with the lack of distinctive local specialties or famous sightseeing locations, very few merchants or travelers bothered to pass through.

The people currently bustling around the market were all locals, each with their own nearby homes, so the inn offering food and lodging naturally lost their business.

The innkeeper often regretted his foolish decision to enter this business, but he had indeed invested a substantial amount into the establishment. This inn had a total of three floors, which basically made it the tallest building in town. Shutting it down would mean throwing away all of his hard work and money, so he stubbornly kept it running.

To cut costs, the innkeeper simply stopped hiring any employees. Since customers were rare anyway, he just took on the roles of head chef and waiter himself.

Like this, the days passed one after another. If there were no customers, he didn’t lose money, and if there were, it was pure profit.

If he happened to encounter a particularly big-spending customer, he stood to make a fortune.

It was another break-even day. The shopkeeper yawned where he sat behind the counter, and a glance at the sky told him that the sun was about to set. The street vendors were starting to pack up their stalls and head home, so he stood up and went to close the door of the inn.

Inns typically didn’t close this early, because travelers were often delayed by unforeseen circumstances, but a lack of business was normal here. The shopkeeper had become accustomed to it, and since there was no point in staying open late, he would close early so that he could go home and get to sleep early.

But just as he was about to bolt the wooden door, something unexpected occurred.

This inn, long-devoid of guests, suddenly had some. And they arrived in a group of four. Judging by the clothing that set them aside from commoners, they should be from the jianghu.

The innkeeper eyed the sword at one man’s waist, and his nose picked up the faint scent of blood. These people had likely just returned from a battle.

Despite this knowledge, he didn’t ask any questions. He was just an innkeeper, and if they had the money, he would let them stay. It was best not to meddle in the conflicts of the jianghu.

Thus, the innkeeper warmly welcomed them into his establishment. The members of the group varied in age. The two older ones couldn’t be much over twenty years old, and the two younger ones were not yet fully grown, perhaps around fourteen or fifteen.

The innkeeper’s gaze lingered on the two older men as he tried to figure out who was in charge. Was it the man with the stern and unnaturally pale face, or the charming, handsome young master who looked like a character from a storybook?

“Innkeeper, four rooms.”

To the innkeeper’s surprise, the first of the four to speak was one of the youths, who took a gold ingot from his sleeve as he spoke.

Doesn’t it feel lumpy and uncomfortable to stuff gold ingots up there? The innkeeper thought, eyeing Cao Zirui’s sleeve.

But his attention shifted very quickly. His eyes gleamed at the sight of the gold ingot, and he excitedly accepted it with both hands, not sparing a glance at these four people. Without even looking, he pointed the way: “The rooms upstairs are all vacant. The four of you can make yourselves at home.”

The four of them then made their way upstairs. They looked travel-worn and weary, and didn’t exchange a single word between them on the way up.

But the innkeeper had no attention to spare for the heavy atmosphere between the group. His thoughts were singularly focused on the gold ingot.

He first bit it between his teeth, then polished it with his sleeve until it had a brilliant sheen, reflecting the light even on such a dim evening.

The innkeeper thought for a moment, then suddenly stuck the gold ingot into his sleeve. After noting the weight and shape for a moment, he pulled it out again and thought that he understood Cao Zirui.

How could gold against your skin ever feel uncomfortable?!

Far from being lumpy and uncomfortable, it felt lovely enough to compose poems about. The shopkeep held the gold with joy in his heart, completely unaware that it had come not from Cao Zirui’s sleeve, but from the storage bag concealed in his cuff.

But that was unimportant. Gazing at the gold ingot, he rummaged around in his limited literary knowledge and had a sudden surge of poetic inspiration. Just as he was about to start the first line, the wooden staircase creaked under someone’s feet.

Someone was coming down.

The innkeeper immediately dropped his money-obsessed look and gave his friendliest smile to the person approaching him.

It was the charming young master. His clothes were not particularly ostentatious, but there seemed to be an air about him that an ordinary person couldn’t hope to imitate. He held a paper fan in his hand, and tapped it against the countertop as he asked: “Do you have any bandages?”

Would an inn carry such a thing? The innkeeper shook his head.

“What about hot water?” Hao Chen asked.

Inns did tend to have hot water available…..but those were inns that actually had customers. Why would an inn with no business have hot water prepared? Just to heat it up and pour it out?

The innkeeper shook his head again.

These two negative answers caused the young master to frown, which did nothing to detract from his good looks. Although the innkeeper was a man, he couldn’t deny that good looks came with advantages. Even with a furrowed brow, this man had a certain charm.

Hao Chen tapped his fan, then suddenly reached into his sleeve and drew out…..a single pearl.

The innkeeper’s eyes widened. Although it wasn’t the gold he had expected, the value of this pearl was certainly not low. It was the size of a pigeon’s egg.

Longqiu was not located by the sea, so pearls were far more expensive here than they might be elsewhere. Not to mention a large pearl like this one, bigger than any he had ever seen. It might be even more valuable than an equivalent amount of gold.

Hao Chen handed the pearl to the innkeeper, then instructed him: “This town should have an apothecary. Troubling the innkeeper to go and buy some bandages, and heat up some water as well.”

There was indeed an apothecary in town, but it was located at the farthest diagonal point from his inn. The innkeeper had never been an industrious person, and generally wouldn’t volunteer to run this sort of errand.

However…..the innkeeper fondled the plump, round pearl in his hand, and the smile that spread across his face held more affection than he would show to his own wife: “Wait just a moment, esteemed guest. I’ll go at once!”

After delivering his instructions, Hao Chen went back upstairs.

Holding the gold ingot in his left hand and the enormous pearl in his right, the innkeeper carefully stowed them away. Then he walked out of the shop, thinking, I wonder if it’s fashionable in other places to carry valuables in your sleeves?

Hao Chen climbed to the second floor. Although the inn had a total of three floors, the actual size of those floors was fairly small, with only four rooms each.

While there was enough room for the four of them on one floor, the inn had long been unoccupied, and the two rooms facing away from the sun had developed a bad mold problem.

For this reason, the room assignments for the four of them were: Hao Chen and Feng Ye in the two rooms on the third floor facing the balcony, and Fang Yang and Cao Zirui in the balcony rooms on the second floor.

Other than Feng Ye, who had shut himself in his own room and hadn’t come out, Hao Chen and the other two had not retired to their rooms.

Fang Yang and Cao Zirui were waiting for Hao Chen at the top of the second floor staircase, and crowded around him as soon as they saw him coming up.

“Hao-dage…..Shixiong, he…..” Fang Yang started to ask a question, but when the words were on the tip of his tongue, he didn’t quite know what to say.

After the mysterious peng bird appeared the night before, the misty black barrier had shattered and revealed the hidden figures behind it.

Fang Yang had watched as Feng Ye defeated Ling Yun, and heard the words he spoke, the details of which were so vivid that he must have experienced those things firsthand.

He had wanted to ask about it right then and there, but Feng Ye kept silent after defeating Ling Yun and seemed unwilling to speak to anyone. Fang Yang didn’t go out of his way to pester him.

Now that the Living Soil was in their hands, there was no reason to remain in Longqiu any longer. The four of them subsequently made their way in the direction Old Uncle Sun had indicated, toward the nearest market town. Feng Ye walked alongside them, but he seemed as distant as if a whole world lay between them and didn’t speak a word the whole way.

After walking for a full day, they barely managed to reach the market town before night descended. Fang Yang had been holding himself back for so long, and now he finally had the chance to ask his questions.

There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but the sheer quantity left him not knowing how to ask any of them.

But Hao Chen didn’t need him to speak in order to know what was on his mind, and simply cut him off: “Don’t ask random questions, kid. Go get some sleep.”

Fang Yang: “……” That was way too perfunctory.

But Hao Chen gave him no time for further questions, and pushed Fang Yang into his room with  a single shove.

Hao Chen clapped his hands and turned toward Cao Zirui next, preparing to give him the same treatment.

But before Hao Chen could make a move, Cao Zirui hastily spoke up: “Wait!”

Hao Chen held off, signaling Cao Zirui with his eyes to speak up and not waste his time.

“Is Ling Yun…..dead?” Cao Zirui could see the impatience in Hao Chen’s eyes, but still found it difficult to articulate these few words.

No matter how hateful Ling Yun might be now, he was still Ji Chengyue’s shixiong. Cao Zirui had never met Ling Yun, and naturally had no feelings for his shishu, but his shifu certainly did. He cared enough to erect a spirit tablet for him regardless of what the world said was right or wrong.

If his shifu were to learn that Ling Yun still lived, he would no doubt be overjoyed…..except Ling Yun had fallen to this state. This was why Cao Zirui hadn’t sent word to Ji Chengyue right away.

He didn’t know if giving his shifu this news would be a good thing or a bad thing. That although his shixiong was still alive, he was no longer the man he once was, and had even turned against his own sect in his quest for vengeance.

But since last night, there didn’t seem to be any use for hesitation. Feng Ye had swung his sword without pause and sliced through Ling Yun’s neck, killing him once more.

Yet Cao Zirui couldn’t be sure that he was actually dead, because no severed head rolled to the ground in the wake of that strike. There was only a mass of black mist that dissipated in place.

Hao Chen was the one he asked, because he felt that he should know a bit more.

And indeed he did. Hao Chen looked at Cao Zirui for a moment, then said: “He’s not dead. He just ran away.”

They had clearly agreed that the duel would be fought without spiritual power, and the outcome of such a duel was a matter of life or death. It was only natural for the loser to lose their life.

But Ling Yun had escaped, using the power of that demonic creature. Sure enough, that black snake can’t be trusted at all, Hao Chen cursed.

That black snake’s attack had left a small tear in the fan he was carrying, the new one he’d had for less than a month! Damn it!

Cao Zirui breathed a reflexive sigh of relief when he heard this answer, but then he felt that he wasn’t reacting the right way. Why be relieved that the enemy wasn’t dead? Clearly, he should be anxious instead.

Cao Zirui thanked Hao Chen, then conscientiously returned to his room.

Now that the two young ones were dealt with, Hao Chen glanced upward and stepped onto the staircase, heading up to the third floor.

Feng Ye’s wounds, both new and old, had been dealt with on the way here. But conditions in the wilderness were not the best, with neither hot water nor real bandages available. Hao Chen had instructed the innkeeper to fetch some so that he would have an excuse to knock on Feng Ye’s door.

But the innkeeper had not returned yet, and Hao Chen didn’t want to wait any longer.

He stood at the door of Feng Ye’s room and knocked.

There was no response.

Hao Chen tilted his head to listen, but there were no sounds inside the room. It was so quiet that one might think the person inside had already fallen asleep.

In order to conserve wood in the making of this door, there were open spaces between the boards that were covered with paper.

Hao Chen stuck out his index finger and poked a small hole in the paper, then peered through it into the room.

No lights were on, and there was nobody lying on the bed.

Moonlight streamed into the room through the open window. Feng Ye was sitting against the windowsill with his left leg bent, as still as a statue as he gazed outside.

Since the dragon wasn’t asleep, Hao Chen lifted his eyes away from the hole in the paper, knocked once more and counted to three, then pushed the door open.

He moved very silently, trying not to make a sound as he closed the door behind him and paced over to Feng Ye’s side. The third-floor window was huge, leaving Feng Ye enough room to sit on it with his knees bent and still have room to lean back.

Feng Ye didn’t seem to notice Hao Chen’s arrival. His posture didn’t shift in the slightest, and his eyes didn’t move.

There was no beautiful scenery to be seen outside the window, only the quiet market town in the middle of the night and the boundless expanse of mountains beyond it.

This night was particularly quiet. People were resting indoors after a busy day, and the animals had returned to their dens. Only a small number were still out and about.

A mountain breeze rose from the forest, making it sway like an ocean of leaves. The wind continued forth, carrying a faint chill that only added to the cool atmosphere between the two people at the window.

“Cough, cough.” Hao Chen deliberately cleared his throat, searching for anything at all to break the silence.

But before he could say anything, the statue-like man said: “I don’t want to talk tonight.”

These were the first words he had spoken all day, but they were a cold rejection.

He continued to look out the window as he spoke, but there was nothing out there to draw his attention. He was simply staring into space, his eyes unfocused.

Staring into space alone, unwilling to be disturbed by anyone.

But despite this clear rejection, Hao Chen stubbornly stayed where he was.

And proceeded to be unreasonable.

“If you don’t want to talk, I can keep my mouth shut. Just pretend like I don’t exist,” Hao Chen said.

No matter how Feng Ye tried to ignore him, it was impossible to pretend like a living, breathing person right next to him didn’t exist.

Feng Ye’s lips thinned, but he didn’t speak. It was no use. This fish was always so thick-skinned.

So he simply paid no attention to him and let Hao Chen stand in the wind at his side.

After only a short while, the innkeeper returned with the hot water and bandages and knocked on the door.

Hao Chen opened the door and took the supplies, then closed it again. Carrying the basin over to the window, he asked tentatively: “Shall I change your bandages?”

“No.”

Hao Chen had expected the refusal.

He didn’t force it, and set the hot water down before standing by the window once more, staring out into the night with Feng Ye.

Steam rose continuously above the basin of hot water, yet even when the steam disappeared and the water grew cold, the silence between the two remained completely unbroken.

Hao Chen appeared to be in a daze, but in reality, he was wracking his brains for a way to break the silence. He gazed at the mountains, the water, the moon, but his usually clever tongue simply couldn’t figure out a topic that might interest Feng Ye.

He didn’t press him for information about the previous night, nor about the words Feng Ye had spoken to Ling Yun. Because he knew that if he asked, Feng Ye wouldn’t answer.

This dragon was too wary of others, and far too strong-willed. Unlike Hao Chen, he never seemed to slack off or allow himself to be the one in need of protection. It was always him protecting other people.

For this reason, he would never reveal his weakness to others, and he certainly wouldn’t share anything about his painful, bloody past.

What he showed to outsiders was that hard scale armor and a strength that seemed capable of overcoming anything.

As for the painful wounds underneath, he kept them hidden in the deepest parts of himself, refusing to expose them to the light of day even as they festered.

Perhaps Hao Chen wouldn’t ask about the words Feng Ye spoke last night, but he couldn’t help dwelling on them. He stared at the side of Feng Ye’s face, the man’s hoarse shouts echoing in his mind.

“Wasn’t a chain pierced through your shoulder blades? Shifting inside your body with every breath, the pain so excruciating, so unbearable, that only the fuel of hatred allowed you to cling to your wretched life?!”

He remembered each word with perfect clarity, and each one caused a tremor in his heart.

He was a god by birth, and although he had weathered perilous battles, he had never endured the almost unimaginable kind of suffering Feng Ye spoke of.

Yet this person’s expression was still so mild, as if he wasn’t the one who had gone through all of that.

Feng Ye’s current appearance was unremarkable, but as Hao Chen gazed at his furrowed brow, he could still faintly make out the shadow of that cold, eternally powerful God of War.

But Hao Chen knew that the true Yinglong wasn’t like that.

No one was eternally powerful, and no one was immune to being hurt.

All at once, he felt the strong urge to reach out and touch Feng Ye, to smooth away the furrow in his brow and remove that cold, hard facade.

But just as his hand was halfway there, Feng Ye reached out and grabbed it mid-air.

He kept Hao Chen’s hand in his grasp, preventing it from moving closer.

Then he finally turned to look at him. There was nothing but coldness in his expression, a callousness that kept everyone at arm’s length.

It was a coldness so deep that one couldn’t help but want to turn away and flee.

But as Hao Chen looked into those eyes, he had no intention of backing down. He saw a layer of ice in those eyes that was even colder than the waters of the North Sea, and below that ice, a scarred heart that was still tender.

“The bone-piercing chains…..they hurt?” Hao Chen asked in a soft voice, as if afraid to startle him.

Feng Ye was taken aback.

His first instinct was to deny it, and to also deny that any of the words he spoke to Ling Yun the previous day referred to things that he had personally endured.

There were so many excuses, so many explanations. He didn’t even have to think that hard about it. An answer was on the tip of his tongue almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind.

But before he could voice one of these ready-made excuses, something he couldn’t quite perceive held them back. Like a surging tide, the scars he had thought were completely healed awakened in the depths of his heart.

But not everything could be healed by time. This pain had only been sealed away. And when he saw Ling Yun, who seemed so much like Feng Ye’s former self, only then did he realize that the suffering that had torn his flesh and pierced into the very marrow of his bones had never diminished in the slightest.

“Hurt.”

After a long stalemate, he spoke only one word.

He didn’t specify what hurt, didn’t acknowledge those unbearable events that had happened in his past, the fact that he had cried out in pain. He just gave an answer that would allow him to come up with an excuse later on.

He left no openings even now, exposing no weakness or vulnerability.

This single word was the limit of what he could bring himself to reveal.

And speaking this word seemed to have drained all his strength. He closed his eyes, and the hand that should have been as strong as cast iron went weak. Hao Chen freed his hand from Feng Ye’s grip with just a slight tug.

But rather than retreating, he continued to move closer, to bridge the distance as vast as a chasm between them that he had previously been unable to cross.

He embraced Feng Ye.

He wrapped his arms around Feng Ye’s back and held him tight, using the warmth of his body to help drive away the chill and the pain.

Feng Ye didn’t respond. He seemed somewhat at a loss, and just sat there in a daze within Hao Chen’s embrace.

Perhaps it was the warmth that tempted him. Animals were naturally drawn to light, and dragons were no exception. Feeling the warmth of the arms around him, he reached out tentatively after an unknown amount of time and hugged Hao Chen back.

The embrace was light, his arms draped loosely around Hao Chen. As if he would flinch back at the slightest wrong move.

As time went on, his grip slowly tightened to the point that it was almost constricting, but Hao Chen simply let him do as he liked.

Feng Ye buried his face against the side of Hao Chen’s neck, keeping his expression hidden from view.

They held each other under the cover of night. It was only a simple embrace, devoid of lust.

The bright moon hung high outside the window, and although the long night stretched on and the wind howled, they no longer felt the cold.

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Chapter 118 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 120

Ch. 118 – “You say I don’t understand?”

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The black snake lunged up and away from the tree branch, its mouth yawning open as wide as it could go. Although its body was no thicker than a woman’s wrist, it could swallow things many times the size of its own head by stretching its mouth to its limit.

Swallowing the crow in front of him would naturally pose no problem. The prey was within reach, and as he bared the fangs extending from his upper jaw, triumph at his imminent success gleamed in his crimson eyes.

The black snake whipped up a gust of air as he lunged, and the crow finally broke free from his spectating. He had been keeping a close eye on the fight, wary of the black snake launching a sneak attack on Feng Ye. But unexpectedly, the snake’s target was actually Hao Chen.

Careless! The crow thought in vexation.

The moment he sensed the attack, he spread his wings to fly clear of the branch. But the black snake had been patient, lying in wait while he carefully calculated the distance between them, and the crow was given no chance to escape.

But thanks to the crow’s quick reaction, he wasn’t bitten in a vital area like the neck, and the black snake got him on the wing instead. A bird’s wing may look large, but it contained little actual flesh, most of it made up of long flight feathers.

The black snake got a mouthful of bird feathers, but refused to release his grip. Clamping down hard, he ripped several flight feathers out of the bird’s left wing.

And as the feathers fell away, the crow finally managed to break free from the snake’s death grip. But he didn’t go very far, hovering a short distance away from the black snake’s perch, just out of striking range.

There were two reasons he didn’t flee. Firstly, he wouldn’t be able to fly very far. Flight feathers were crucial to a bird, and having lost several all at once, it would be extremely difficult to fly even a short distance.

Secondly…..the crow’s black eyes reflected the image of the black snake holding one of his own feathers in his mouth. The black snake spat out the feather with disdain, then reared his head back and flicked his tongue in provocation.

If he left this grudge unavenged, then he didn’t deserve to be called a crow!

The crow burned with anger. This filthy creature had actually dared to attack him from behind!

Even though this form was merely an avatar, one should take a bird’s owner into consideration before striking it!

The crow opened his wings wide and rode the breeze through the air, finding just the right angle to strike the black snake in the eye.

The black snake arched his upper body back to dodge the attack, then took the opportunity to strike out and bite the crow again.

But the crow had already learned his lesson, and was more cautious this time. Birds also had a natural advantage over flightless creatures, and some birds of prey even fed on snakes.

His beak missed the black snake’s eye, but he managed to land a blow on his body and pry free some scales. The snake wasn’t a physical entity, but merely a construct of black mist.

Right after detaching from the black snake’s body, these falling scales dissolved into black mist, while new ones quickly materialized over the damaged area.

But the blow was not entirely ineffective. The black snake had used most of his power to form the insulating barrier, and this snake-sized portion was all the extra it could spare.

Already in a reduced state, he naturally had no surplus power to replenish himself. Although the injured area had filled in, the portion pecked away by the crow didn’t return. Almost imperceptibly, the black snake’s body had shrunk.

The change was so small that even the crow’s keen eyesight couldn’t detect it.

But despite not noticing, he continued to attack relentlessly. Darting back and forth around the black snake, he pecked off a scale here and there to vent the anger in his heart after being offended by the filthy creature.

The black snake refused to be outdone. Although the crow had a significant advantage, he was barely doing any damage. But the snake waited patiently while doing his best to dodge, biding his time for a decisive blow.

While a bird and a snake were locked in a fierce battle high up in the trees, Feng Ye and Ling Yun were locked in a similar stalemate.

Swords gleamed in the moonlight as the two of them clashed and parted repeatedly in a flurry of attacks.

Both were masters of swordsmanship, their comprehension far surpassing that of ordinary people. It was difficult to locate any flaws or weaknesses in either of them, and the ones that did show up were likely to be lures to draw in the opponent.

Feng Ye’s swordplay was unpredictable and fluid. Although he was certainly young among the gods of the heavenly realm, he had encountered countless sword techniques in his few thousand years of life.

The unpredictability of his moves often caught the opponent off guard, causing them to fall into his rhythm and ultimately suffer defeat.

Ling Yun was unable to do the same. Despite his many years of experience, he was much younger than Feng Ye and failed to measure up to his expertise. Yet the essence of the way of the sword wasn’t all that complex, and amounted to variations of chopping, thrusting, and slicing.

The world was full of countless sword techniques, and even if he hadn’t seen them all, he had honed his own technique to perfection. He was perfectly aware of every weak point in his strikes, and also which angles his opponent would choose for a counterattack.

He met Feng Ye’s changeable style with constancy.

The battle raged on, the victor undetermined.

Their blades clashed once again, but neither of them broke away immediately. Instead, the muscles in their arms tensed as they engaged in a test of strength.

Pressed closely together as they were, details that went unnoticed from a distance were now made clear.

Feng Ye stared at Ling Yun’s left cheek, where the hideous burn scars covered every inch of skin.

These burns had almost certainly been inflicted by heavenly fire, which was the only fire that burned hot enough to injure a Hedao-stage cultivator so severely.

Although Ling Yun had not lost his life to the heavenly fire a century ago, Feng Ye could only imagine how harrowing his escape must have been.

His words from before were likely not a lie, because he had no use for lies at this point. He cared about no one, and therefore cared nothing about how others might condemn his deranged ideas.

So one hundred years ago, he had really not known the truth about Jianmu, an unwitting accomplice to the demons in their ascent to the heavens.

Ling Yun had once been the leader of a sect. His character was plain for all to see, and although he was somewhat arrogant, his behavior was upright and honorable. He was completely different from this Ling Yun, who would use any means at all to achieve his goals.

Something must have happened to him during those hundred years to turn him into this hateful ghost.

Feng Ye had wanted to ask about it earlier, but Ling Yun had attacked before he could, striking so swiftly that there was no room for distraction.

Now, with their blades locked, Feng Ye had a rare opportunity. He continued to push against Ling Yun’s blade as he asked: “Are you seeking out Jianmu again just to re-open the Emberless Horizon and throw the heavenly and mortal realms into chaos?”

Ling Yun looked at Feng Ye when he heard this, and the corners of his mouth curved up. The ugly scars on the left side of his face shifted with this movement, making them appear even more terrifying.

“That’s right,” he said.

He exerted more force as he spoke, causing their crossed swords to quiver under the increased pressure.

When it came to physique, Feng Ye’s current body was inferior to Ling Yun’s. He felt himself yielding under the pressure and withdrew his sword, taking a step back.

As he did so, he asked: “Why?”

Setting aside who was right or wrong back then, the only person Ling Yun should have a grudge against was Feng Ye. His grievances should be settled with him alone. Why ally himself with a demonic creature to cultivate Jianmu again, bringing disaster upon innocent people?

Feng Ye only spoke that one word, but Ling Yun knew what he was asking. He pressed forward and swung his blade toward Feng Ye, asking as their weapons came together with a clang: “Innocent? Do the people of this world deserve to be called that?”

Feng Ye was taken aback, but was given no time to think. Ling Yun intensified his offensive, and it became clear that the fierce swordsmanship he had demonstrated thus far was not the peak of his abilities. He had only been testing the waters.

He had gained enough of an understanding of Feng Ye’s style, and unleashed the full force of his strength, forcing Feng Ye to retreat again and again.

“How did I treat the people of this world? And how have they treated me?” Ling Yun shouted as he slashed forward, his hoarse voice strained to the limit.

He had never thought of keeping a sacred treasure like Jianmu to himself when he found it. He had generously shared with cultivators across the world the hard-won results of his life’s work.

Those cultivators praised him to the heavens and scrambled to climb the divine tree he had planted. But when Jianmu fell and heavenly fire rained down upon the earth, every single one of them condemned him as an eternal sinner.

Due to their fear of Yinglong, they blamed it all on him regardless of the truth. Nobody spoke out in his defense or tried to clear his name.

If any tried, they were far too few, their voices drowned out by the overwhelming accusations.

He hated Yinglong, and he hated the ungrateful people of this world too.

Feng Ye kept his eyes fixed on the relentless blade slashing toward him. Despite struggling to keep up, he still spared some effort to refute Ling Yun: “So what? When has your shidi ever wronged you? How can you disregard him too?!”

“What do you know!” Ling Yun screamed. Perhaps Feng Ye had struck a nerve. His eyes bulged, and the veins in his neck stood out with the force of his shout.

Driven by pure emotion, he attacked with renewed vigor. Feng Ye was completely on the defensive. Fending off each attack was the most he could do, completely unable to strike back.

“Do you have any idea how I spent these past one hundred years?! Do you have any idea how I got these burns and blade scars on my face?! How could a high and mighty god ever know the agony of hell!”

Ling Yun’s face twisted hideously, more malevolent ghost than human.

Feng Ye stared blankly at that face. He had noticed before that in addition to the burns, there were scars from a sword or knife on the other’s face. He just hadn’t given it much thought.

After hearing Ling Yun’s words, he began to notice something. Beneath those blade scars was something else, like a pattern, but the scars covered it so completely that it was difficult to make out.

But when he looked closely, Feng Ye finally caught a clue: the pattern concealed beneath the blade wounds looked very much like…..a totem.

The same totem tattooed onto the slaves of Western Qiang.

Feng Ye’s pupils shrank. Could it be…..

His mind fell into chaos. Memories blurred together with the distorted face in front of him, and under the storm of Ling Yun’s onslaught, he left himself open.

Like a shark catching the scent of blood, Ling Yun instantly shifted the direction of his blade and thrust it toward the opening.

Feng Ye spotted the opening at the same time as Ling Yun. He realized that he wasn’t in the right state of mind, and immediately collected himself, turning all of his focus toward the enemy.

But it was too late. The edge of Ling Yun’s sword had already pierced his defenses and reached his chest, slashing down diagonally.

Meanwhile, the battle between the crow and the black snake had reached its peak. More and more scales were being picked off by the bird’s beak, and the snake’s body shrunk even as it regenerated.

Where it had previously been as thick as a woman’s wrist, it was now only as thick as a thumb.

Crows were one of the most intelligent species of bird, and this one was particularly clever. He had also realized that the black snake was growing weaker.

He estimated the size of the black snake and decided that it was satisfactory. Then, he stopped pecking at it with his beak and instead flew above it, diving down toward it with his talons extended.

He was prepared to grab the black snack and tear it in two with his talons. Failing that, he would drop it to its death, a standard hunting tactic among birds.

He had been fighting the black snake for such a long time, and aside from that initial sneak attack, it hadn’t been able to land a single blow on him. The crow’s confidence swelled, and he inevitably got too cocky.

A fierce glint flashed in the snake’s eyes as he tilted his head back to watch the crow dive toward him. Just as the bird seized him in his claws, he also seized the opportunity he had been waiting for.

Clamping his jaws around the crow’s right wing, he coiled the section of his body not clutched in those talons around the bird’s body.

The crow and the black snake tangled into a ball. When it realized it had been bitten, the crow flapped his wings and soared into the sky, trying to shake off the black snake.

But his right wing was already missing several flight feathers, and its remaining wing was clamped in the snake’s jaws. With his mobility severely hampered, he flew unsteadily, struggling against the black snake that was still winding around him.

He only made it a few meters before falling back down.

As he fell, he released his grip. The black snake also let go after tearing a few more feathers from his right wing.

The two dark, tangled figures finally managed to separate.

Belly upward, the crow gazed at the sky receding away from him and thought, this is bad.

He tried once more to fly, but his injured wings wouldn’t let him balance, and he could only plummet straight down.

He might just be the first bird to fall to its death. The crow gloomily closed his eyes.

However, the expected impact with the hard ground didn’t come.

Feng Ye and Ling Yun had once again put some distance between themselves. Both of them were somewhat drained from the recent clash and needed time to catch their breath.

The fabric over Feng Ye’s chest had been slashed open, revealing a bloody wound that split the flesh beneath it.

Due to his quick reaction time, the it didn’t reach the bone, though blood streamed from the flesh wound.

Feng Ye had his gaze fixed on Ling Yun when he noticed something like a pitch-black fluffball falling from above, and he instinctively reached out to catch it.

The crow opened his eyes in confusion and locked gazes with Feng Ye.

Feng Ye: “…..”

The battle was very dangerous at this moment. He was already at a disadvantage and had been injured, whereas Ling Yun was completely unscathed. Victory was tilted heavily in Ling Yun’s favor.

Feng Ye’s mood should have been extremely grim, but at the sight of this crow falling from the sky, he was momentarily speechless.

The crow lay in Feng Ye’s palms for a moment, then hurriedly jumped up. With both wings injured, he could hardly fly at all. He hopped and flailed along Feng Ye’s arm to his shoulder, then glared menacingly at the opponent with his beady eyes, as if the previous event had not just happened.

This was no time to play around. Setting aside his exasperation, Feng Ye turned with the crow perched on his shoulder to regard the opponent across from him.

Ling Yun stood there with his sword in hand, something clinging to his shoulder as well.

The black snake and the crow had fallen together. The snake had not died from the fall, but had transformed into black mist mid-air and returned to Ling Yun, where it once more took on a serpentine form.

The black snake flicked his tongue at Ling Yun’s neck, fixing its slitted eyes on Feng Ye, as well as the crow on his shoulder.

The sight of the cold, sinister snake next to Ling Yun’s demon-like face made them both appear all the more dangerous and gruesome.

In contrast, Feng Ye just looked like an ordinary person, almost always harmless-looking and gentle. The crow was just as ordinary, and also slightly bald due to many of its feathers being bitten off. Compared to his opponent, he certainly lost out in terms of presence.

This simply won’t do! The crow thought indignantly. He ruffled what feathers he had left and puffed out his fluffy chest, doing his best to look majestic and boost Feng Ye’s image.

Feng Ye paid no attention to the crow’s childish behavior. His gaze was fixed on Ling Yun as he quickly adjusted his breathing.

His chest heaved violently from the intense battle, and he twisted his wrist, which ached from the heavy impacts. Then, once he’d somewhat caught his breath, he once again raised his sword and attacked.

Ling Yun struck at the same moment, and the distance between them closed in an instant.

The crow leaped from Feng Ye’s shoulder as he attacked. Unable to fly, he scrambled along Feng Ye’s sword-wielding arm and ran along the smooth surface of the blade.

Then, just as the sword was about to make contact with Ling Yun’s, he sprang from the tip of the sword toward the opponent’s neck.

The black snake lunged upward at the same time, entangling with the crow once again.

Feng Ye and Ling Yun’s swords clashed, and the two black forms rolled off Ling Yun’s shoulder together in a tangle, tumbling until they stopped near the corner of the barrier.

When he stumbled and fell twice in a row, the crow realized the danger of underestimating his enemy. Despite not being able to fly, he flapped his wings to briefly lift himself into the air.

Half-jumping and half-flying, he seized the black snake in his talons while carefully avoiding its snapping jaws.

The black snake’s form was no longer what it had been at the start, now only as thick as a thumb. The crow successfully captured it, his sharp talons piercing through the protective scales and deep into flesh.

Clawing and pecking, the crow finally tore the black snake in half.

The black snake slowly stopped moving. It appeared to be dead, so the crow tossed its mangled body to the ground.

He stepped back, maintaining a distance of a meter between them just in case the black snake’s carcass suddenly sprang back to life.

The carcass had already stiffened, its crimson eyes grown dull. Its body began to disintegrate, transforming into black mist that drifted away in the air.

I won, the black crow thought triumphantly.

Holding his head high, he puffed out his chest with a warrior’s pride.

But he was completely unaware of the sudden change in the barrier behind him.

A black snake several times thicker than the first one emerged and slithered forward, flicking his tongue. He silently positioned himself above the preening crow, then swiftly lunged down and snapped his jaws shut around it.

He was currently large enough to devour a human, to say nothing of a tiny crow. It was hardly any effort at all, and the crow had no chance to struggle before it was gulped down.

“Tch!” Hao Chen opened his eyes and cursed through gritted teeth.

That black snake wasn’t following the rules! In the middle of a perfectly good fight, it suddenly grew in size and bullied its smaller opponent!

But then again, there weren’t actually any rules in battle anyway.

With this in mind, Hao Chen glanced down at Fang Yang and Cao Zirui. Seeing that the two were still digging with single-minded focus, he settled his mind and continued his own task.

He tossed his folding fan to the ground, and the remaining twelve ribs separated from one another.

The ribs transformed into feathers, which then took on the shape of crows that took to the air in a neat line.

The commotion caused by the flock was loud enough to draw Fang Yang and Cao Zirui’s attention, and Fang Yang exclaimed: “So many crows!”

Cao Zirui stared at them and asked with some confusion: “Where did they all come from?” They seemed to have just appeared out of thin air.

Nobody answered. Fang Yang was just as confused, while Hao Chen stood alone to the side, distracted by something unknown.

Cao Zirui temporarily set aside his questions and returned to the task at hand.

Meanwhile, inside the barrier, the crows formed a neat, single-file line and dove toward the black snake like projectiles.

The black snake watched this flock of crows returning to the fight and flicked his tongue, cursing: “You don’t know what’s good for you, Kunpeng.”

He reared up his massive body, which was many times larger than those crows, and opened his mouth, waiting to swallow them one by one.

The two sides clashed once again. Although the crows were small, they had a numerical advantage. Even when the black snake managed to swallow one, the rest all continued to attack it.

Their side of the battle had intensified with this increase in numbers and size, but Feng Ye paid no attention to it, entirely absorbed in his battle with Ling Yun.

Despite his short rest, the situation failed to improve. He was still at a disadvantage. Ling Yun completely dominated the fight, forcing him to retreat over and over again.

“Do you know where you belong?” Ling Yun asked as they fought, then answered himself in a knowing tone, “The ruins of the royal city of Western Qiang.”

Feng Ye’s expression tensed as he eyed the totem on the left side of Ling Yun’s face, partially concealed beneath his scars. It looked like he had guessed correctly. Ling Yun had been there before too.

Western Qiang was an ancient kingdom that existed a thousand years ago, but Ling Yun was only a little over a hundred years old. He likely hadn’t visited the actual city, but rather an illusion of it inside the Emberless Horizon. Just like Feng Ye.

That perpetual reflection, untouched by the passage of time.

This also explained how Ling Yun had fallen to such a state. That place…..was a living hell, reducing humans into monsters and stripping them of all humanity.

“A pure, immaculate god like you will never understand the ugliness of the human heart.” Ling Yun’s tone shifted abruptly. Whereas he had previously sounded as if he wanted to confide something, there was only mockery in his voice now.

The filth and human depravity he had witnessed were beyond the comprehension of the lofty god before him. No amount of words would be of any use. His suffering was something that this person would never understand.

But in the end, he knew of a way to vent his anger, to set fire to both this filthy, hypocritical mortal world and the heavenly realm and reduce them to ashes.

He struck out rapidly, seeking to trample this holy God of War beneath his feet and complete the first step in his plan for vengeance.

Feng Ye pressed his lips tightly together. He already had a fairly good idea of the situation.

Parrying Ling Yun’s attack, he stepped back to put some distance between them.

Ling Yun didn’t rush to pursue him. From what he could see, Feng Ye was already at his limit, his defeat inevitable. This was simply a stubborn, last-ditch effort at resistance.

Feng Ye kept his head lowered, his expression unreadable.

Their battle was nearing its end, and the fight between the black snake and the flock of crows was already over. The black snake snapped its jaws shut around the last black crow and swallowed it whole.

Despite the agility of the crows and their aerial advantage, the sheer difference in size between them made them no match for the giant black snake.

The twelve crows, plus the original one, had all ended up in its belly.

The snake’s length bulged slightly from the meal it had swallowed, and he waited where he was as he digested his food.

On both battlefields, it seemed that Feng Ye’s side had lost.

But then, something unexpected occurred. The bulge in the black snake’s stomach began to move, as if something was thrashing around violently inside it.

The black snake felt no pain, but he certainly noticed what was happening inside him. Needless to say, the Kunpeng must be up to some mischief.

He tried to put a stop to it, to crush the Kunpeng with the black mist that formed his body, but the thing inside him had grown too massive.

With a piercing cry that rang through the night, a peng bird larger even than the black snake burst out of the serpent’s belly.

As its body was torn apart from the inside, the black snake’s form began to disintegrate along with the black mist forming the barrier around them.

Fang Yang and Cao Zirui had finished digging up all of the Living Soil, and had just caught their breath when they saw the meters-high barrier suddenly begin to dissolve, revealing the scene inside.

The first thing that caught their eyes was a giant bird of a sort they had never seen before.

The giant bird soared into the air, and the violent gusts its wingbeats kicked up scattered the black mist, its cry ringing out into the long night.

Fang Yang’s mouth dropped open in astonishment: “Is that a falcon?”

But it didn’t look quite right. Such birds didn’t grow so large, with a wingspan more than twice the length of a grown man.

Cao Zirui was no less stunned than Fang Yang. He had also never seen a bird this large, and the two of them tilted their heads back to look up at the spectacular sight.

Hao Chen was looking as well, not at the peng bird in the sky, but at the dispersing black mist. His lips twisted, and he gave a low scoff: “Competing with me in size? You’re courting death!”

After mocking the defeated snake, he turned his gaze toward Feng Ye and found him looking back.

He was only able to see Feng Ye’s profile, but Ling Yun had a clear view of his face.

A shiver ran down Ling Yun’s spine at the look in Feng Ye’s eyes. His hair stood on end.

Feng Ye was clearly injured and at even more of a disadvantage than before, but for some reason, Ling Yun felt that he had become far more dangerous.

Those dark eyes were cold and steady, just like those of the god standing high above the clouds a century ago.

Perhaps this was the true nature of the God of War.

“You say I don’t understand?” Feng Ye asked suddenly. His tone was frigid, like ice that had remained frozen for thousands of years.

Fresh blood continued to drip from the wound on his chest, but gave it no attention, and just clutched the hilt of his sword tighter.

Ling Yun was taken aback by the question, and Feng Ye didn’t wait for him to answer. He lunged forward with his sword thrust out, and in a reversal of his previous lagging retreat, he attacked faster and more ferociously than ever before.

Just as Ling Yun hadn’t been using his full strength at the start, neither had Feng Ye. It wasn’t as if he had deliberately held himself back and took an injury for no reason.

Rather, he had too many thoughts running through his head, stealing his focus.

But now, with everything made clear, he was free of distractions.

Ling Yun reflexively brought his sword up to block him, but failed to find the right angle. The opponent’s blow hit his blade head-on, and the forceful impact jolted his wrist so hard that it went slightly numb.

He started to retaliate, but Feng Ye was already on him again. Feng Ye’s sudden shift in demeanor was surprising enough, but it paled in comparison to the words that left his mouth.

“Wasn’t that totem forced onto you with a branding iron, a permanent mark of disgrace and humiliation? Didn’t they look at you as if you were nothing more than livestock?”

Feng Ye’s expression was cold and severe. He shouted as he swung his sword with increasing swiftness, his voice ringing out louder and louder: “Wasn’t a chain pierced through your shoulder blades? Shifting inside your body with every breath, the pain so excruciating, so unbearable, that only the fuel of hatred allowed you to cling to your wretched life?!”

Ling Yun was pushed back step by step. He could feel his hand shaking, struggling to maintain his grip on his sword under the successive blows.

He looked for a way to interrupt Feng Ye’s offensive, and he certainly had options. But every word Feng Ye spoke struck his heart like a huge iron hammer, stirring up towering waves.

Earlier, it had been Feng Ye whose focus was shattered. Now, it was his turn.

“Countless pitch-black nights all alone, gritting your teeth, digging your fingernails into your flesh until the skin broke. Praying for those people to die, for them to rot in the underworld forever, with no hope of salvation!”

“But it’s not enough. The world is so unspeakably ugly, and killing those people is not enough. It’s better to destroy it all! Let the demons crawling up from the underworld devour every living soul in the mortal realm, force them to grovel and tremble at your feet!”

Ling Yun was shaken to his core. At the same moment, he fully lost strength in the hand gripping his sword.

“You say I don’t understand?!” Feng Ye roared as he struck one last time.

With a clang, the iron sword flew from Ling Yun’s hand. He didn’t even react, simply standing there in a daze.

The victor was decided.

Feng Ye’s chest heaved violently, and he steadied his breathing as he held his sword to Ling Yun’s throat.

He ignored the astonished, bewildered gazes around him, focused solely on Ling Yun.

Ling Yun just stared back at him, his lips trembling as if he was attempting to speak.

Feng Ye asked the question for him: “How do I know?”

He looked into Ling Yun’s thunderstruck eyes, and his harsh tone softened slightly: “Because most people who go through such an experience feel the same. Their hearts are filled with hatred, and they ask themselves, ‘why am I suffering like this, while other people live in peace and comfort? Why not become a demon myself and drag the people of the world into the depths of torment to suffer alongside me?’”

“Ling Yun, you’re not special.” Feng Ye looked him straight in the eyes.

Glossing over all of the information Feng Ye had just revealed, Ling Yun latched onto one key term: “Most?”

“Are you saying there are exceptions?” Ling Yun’s tone was one of disbelief and ridicule.

He didn’t believe that anyone who had endured such things could avoid transforming, just like he had, into a demon driven solely by vengeance.

Feng Ye regarded him for a long moment before finally saying, “Yes.”

Without waiting for Ling Yun to ask, he gave him the answer, saying word by word: “Some of those people become the ones who slay the demons and eradicate evil.”

And as he spoke the final word, he violently slashed down with the blade held to Ling Yun’s neck.

---

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Chapter 117 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 119

Events within the palace unfolded quickly.

The prince who had the best chance of competing with Bai Lihong for the throne silently lost his life, and very few people seemed to care.

The hall was quickly cleared out, but none of the three people seated there moved.

Bai Lihong was briefly startled by his uncle’s actions, and subconsciously averted his gaze from Bai Lihai’s prone body.

But two breaths later, he pressed his lips together and clutched the hem of his robes in small hands, then lifted his gaze.

He saw the other’s wide-open eyes, the long gash across his throat, and the blood splattered all over the floor.

This was not the first time Bai Lihong had witnessed death. He had once seen the bodies of his Imperial father and mother.

Back then, his Imperial mother had also had such a gash across her throat.

His Jiujiu never told him how his mother died, but Bai Lihong knew. She hadn’t had a choice. She had done it for the Qin family, and even more so for him.

And the Xiao family, including Bai Lihai, had played a part in forcing her to take such measures.

Qin Xiao had now given Bai Lihai the same death. Aside from his unwillingness to hear such blasphemous words from him, it was likely his way of avenging Qin Feng’s death.

Bai Lihong watched unwaveringly as palace attendants carried Jiannan-wang’s body out of the hall. The gore was also quickly cleaned away, but the stench of blood lingered inside the hall, as did the bloodstains that had inevitably splattered onto the robes of Zuiliang-wang and Miss Zhou.

Qin Xiao looked toward Bai Lihong, as did Chu Jiubian.

They had both seen the brief look of fear on Bai Lihong’s face, but neither moved to comfort him.

Bai Lihong was a gifted and clever child, who consistently matured at an astonishing speed. Although he would still act cute and spoiled in front of Qin Xiao and Chu Jiubian, they both knew that Bai Lihong saw many things very clearly, and with great insight.

As expected, after taking a moment to compose himself, the child raised his eyes again and fixed them firmly on the corpse lying on the floor.

This half-brother of his who shared his blood had died before his eyes, just like that.

In the face of Imperial power, human life seemed to have little significance.

This was power.

And for the first time, Bai Lihong had experienced the truth of it.

Chu Jiubian observed the complex look in the child’s eyes and his knitted brow, and reflexively glanced toward Qin Xiao sitting opposite him.

The other man was looking back at him.

It wasn’t a bad thing for an emperor to realize what tremendous power he held in his hands.

It was just that Bai Lihong was still so young, and it was hard to say whether this course of action would help or harm him in the end.

Perhaps they would still need to guide him properly later on.

Miss Zhou stood with her head lowered and a look of terror on her pale face, wobbling on her feet as if she was about to collapse.

Zuiliang-wang wiped away a couple drops of blood that had splattered onto the back of his hand, his expression unchanged.

In a way, wasn’t Qin Xiao’s move also a warning to him?

“Your Majesty, My Lords, now that this matter has been resolved, this subject will take his leave.” A smile returned to Bai Liyan’s face.

Chu Jiubian looked at the girl standing behind him and addressed her: “Miss Zhou.”

Miss Zhou shuddered and began to kneel down again.

“No need.” Chu Jiubian didn’t tell her to kneel. He softened his voice slightly and said with informal concern, “You must be terrified. Go back and get some good rest.”

“Thank you, My Lord.” Miss Zhou didn’t dare raise her head.

Chu Jiubian then said: “If I may ask, why is your hair white?”

“Answering My Lord,” Miss Zhou said in a faint voice, “This young girl was born ill, and persistent poor health turned her hair white at an early age.”

“Is that so?” Chu Jiubian smiled. “This official had assumed that it was the aftereffects of refining gu.”

Miss Zhou’s pupils contracted, and she lifted her head sharply to stare at him.

Zuiliang-wang was taken off guard, but then realization sank in and he took a few steps back, putting a wide distance between himself and the young woman.

Qin Xiao’s gaze sharpened, and he rubbed his fingertips lightly against his thumb ring.

The atmosphere in the hall was tense.

Chu Jiubian gazed steadily at her for a long moment, then gave her a pleasant smile and said: “I’m just speaking casually. Please don’t be nervous, Miss Zhou.”

Miss Zhou’s back was soaked with cold sweat. She forced a smile and said: “Yes.”

The next sentence from Chu Jiubian’s lips sent her to the floor on her knees.

“The porcelain bottle at your waist looks quite fine. Might I have a moment to admire it?” Chu Jiubian’s tone was mild.

Kneeling on the floor, Miss Zhou reflexively reached for the bottle at her waist, eyes downcast and filled with panic.

She had thought she’d hidden it well, never suspecting that Chu Jiubian had already long discovered it.

But how had the Grand Tutor found out?

At the thought of Chu Jiubian’s miraculous abilities, Miss Zhou’s heart sank.

Indeed, using such petty tricks in the presence of a god was not to be done.

The previous gu refined by her master had all been detected by the other party, so how could she have expected her own inferior gu to escape his notice?

Miss Zhou didn’t dare use any tricks. She had no choice but to take out the porcelain bottle. Holding it in both hands, she rose and walked to Chu Jiubian on shaking legs, handing it over to him deferentially.

Then she knelt right back down.

Chu Jiubian peered at the bottle. He could see the green dots the System had marked writhing inside.

With a wave of his hand, he banished the bottle to his Divine Realm.

System storage wasn’t able to store living things, so it was better to keep them in the Divine Realm instead.

He would hand them over to the Nanjiang saintess later on. She was an expert in the field, and might be able to glean some clues from these gu.

The expressions on Zuiliang-wang and Miss Zhou’s faces shifted when they saw the bottle vanish from Chu Jiubian’s hand.

They didn’t think that was any old common magic trick.

“I will keep this item for now and return it to you when the time is right.” Chu Jiubian robbed her without any scruples.

Miss Zhou naturally didn’t protest, and hurriedly said that it was her honor to present it to such an official.

It had occurred to her that she might not be able to leave the palace today, that Chu Jiubian and Qin Xiao might imprison her and interrogate her about her master’s whereabouts. She had even prepared herself to commit suicide. But to her great surprise, they directly released her from the palace without asking a single extra question.

But her unease grew even more, a weight on her heart and mind.

With the knowledge that her gu had been confiscated, Zuiliang-wang was no longer afraid. He left the palace with her, and they boarded two separate carriages.

But before he stepped inside, Bai Liyan couldn’t help but glance back at the tall palace gate and soaring walls.

Jiannan-wang’s death had been so swift and easy. He was nothing more than a pawn placed on the board by whoever was working behind the scenes, an opportunity presented to Qin Xiao and Chu Jiubian along with the testimony of a “victim.” But there were so many holes in the story.

This plan was only able to succeed because Qin Xiao and Chu Jiubian were no longer at the stage where they were walking on thin ice.

They now had manpower, funds, and power and influence.

The majority of the Wang family officials in court had pledged their loyalty to them, and dozens of Imperial Academy students would enter official service in the future. Outside the court, they had the military might of the Qin family, the Wang family as their mouthpiece, the allegiance of Nanjiang-wang, and the support of the common people.

With Bai Liyan now having made his own allegiance clear, the “cards” in the hands of the Emperor’s faction were no longer the same.

Thus, they set aside their earlier caution and accepted the knife that was handed to them.

From having to consider the attitudes of the court officials, to publicly executing the sons of noble families, and then to openly disposing of Jiannan-wang….it had all happened in the span of less than a year.

Bai Liyan could see one thing clearly: this was all because of Chu Jiubian.

From the moment he descended from the heavens, he had confirmed the legitimacy of Imperial power. And from then on, come drought, flood, or foreign invasion, Chu Jiubian was inextricably linked to them all.

The events in the hall just now left Bai Liyan deeply shaken.

He was endlessly grateful that he had walked into this snare today and stood on Chu Jiubian’s side.

What good outcome could possibly await someone who defied the gods?

Those brothers of his failed to understand this. Even with the extraordinary abilities Chu Jiubian had displayed in the past, these people didn’t take it to heart.

Perhaps to them, even the gods couldn’t match their nobility.

The two carriages arrived at Zuiliang-wang’s manor, where Merchant Zhou was already waiting at the gate. He immediately stepped forward to meet them as they approached, and his anxiety seemed to ease when he saw Miss Zhou safe and sound.

Bai Liyan’s smiling gaze fell upon this “father and daughter” pair, and he said: “This lord forgot to ask before – since when has Boss Zhou had such a lovely daughter? This lord never heard you mention her.”

Merchant Zhou’s face stiffened, but he quickly pasted on a smile and said: “My daughter has been in poor health since childhood and never came out in public. I brought her to the capital this time because I heard that there were skilled doctors here.”

“So that’s how it is.” Bai Liyan nodded, then said in a casual tone, “It seems the Fujian-Zhejiang region is not a suitable place for Boss Zhou and his family.”

Frightened, Merchant Zhou dropped to his knees: “This humble subject dares not…..”

Before he could justify himself further, Bai Liyan turned and walked toward the manor. He left only the following words: “When this lord returns to his territory, do not allow him to see your family’s trading house again.”

Merchant Zhou’s face went deathly pale.

The manor doors closed before him, leaving only him, Miss Zhou, and the two carriages on the long street.

“Father.” Miss Zhou helped him up and into a carriage.

As the curtain fell shut, the weakness and timidity melted from her face. She looked at the wealthy merchant trembling across from her and said with some impatience in her eyes: “Rest assured, His Highness will not abandon you.”

Merchant Zhou was taken aback, and some of the panic on his face eased.

Right. There was still that person.

*

*

Inside Yangxin Hall.

All of the outsiders were finally gone.

At this point, Qin Chaoyang submitted his report: “My Lords, I’ve just received the latest news: Minister of Revenue Su Sheng indeed has ties to Dingbei-wang.”

Chu Jiubian and Qin Xiao both gave him their attention.

“What sort of ties?” Chu Jiubian asked.

Qin Chaoyang said: “Su Sheng fell ill when he was fifteen years old. Hui Jue, a monk at the temple outside the city, divined his fate and said that he was plagued by a malicious aura, and that he would need to recuperate in the temple for three years to purge it.”

From a young age, Su Sheng was an outstanding noble son whose family spared no expenses to cultivate. They naturally had no desire to see him die an early death, and sent him to Lingjue Temple the moment they heard this.

“As it happened, during the three years he spent there, the eldest daughter of the Wu family’s third branch was also there to cultivate spiritually.”

“The Wu family?” Chu Jiubian had never heard of them.

Qin Xiao said: “A family in the capital that made its fortune running brothels. They were very wealthy. During Emperor Chengzong’s reign, the eldest daughter of the third branch entered the palace through the concubine selection. She achieved the rank of “Pin”^[1] and gave birth to a prince – Dingbei-wang Bai Liyu.”

Chu Jiubian understood at once: “So that’s what happened. Then the person behind Su Sheng is almost certainly Dingbei-wang.”

During the previous palace banquet, Dingbei-wang’s gu had been scattered all over the place.

The gu that approached Bai Lihong, as well as Qin Xiao and the Empress Dowager, were of course intended to harm them, but it was rather strange that two of the gu had been positioned near Su Sheng and Anhui-wang Bai Liming.

Chu Jiubian had previously suspected that there was an invisible hand puppeting Su Sheng and Bai Liming, and the gu had him connecting them to Dingbei-wang. After the banquet, he had asked Qin Xiao to have people investigate, and the results were finally here.

“Regarding Anhuai-wang, is there anything wrong with that advisor of his, Jiang Yongshou?” Chu Jiubian asked.

Qin Chaoyang shook his head, saying: “We haven’t found anything yet. All we know is that Jiang Yongshou and the late Anhuai-wang were lifelong confidants. Before his death, the late prince entrusted the care of his heir to him and General He Zhen. There doesn’t seem to be any logical reason for them to betray Anhuai-wang.”

Qin Xiao: “It would make sense if Jiang Yongshou approached the late Anhuai-wang with ulterior motives from the very beginning.”

Chu Jiubian nodded. That was certainly a possibility.

“This subordinate will investigate further,” said Qin Chaoyang.

“Go ahead.”

Once Qin Chaoyang left, Bai Lihong finished his work for the day and went with Xiao Yuzi to take a stroll in the courtyard and get some fresh air.

Qin Xiao rose, then went to Chu Jiubian and sat down next to him.

Chu Jiubian looked at him.

They were already in the same room. Was it really necessary to sit so close?

Back at Qin Manor, Qin Xiao hadn’t taken his rejection seriously, had he? Otherwise, why would he still be acting like this?

Logically speaking, shouldn’t they separate with dignity and revert back to their original mode of cooperation?

Qin Xiao didn’t seem to notice his awkwardness and confusion. He said: “I fear this is once more the work of Dingbei-wang.”

“En.” Chu Jiubian looked away and said, “It seems that Dingbei-wang has long extended his reach far and wide.”

There was Su Sheng in the capital, members of Anhuai-wang’s own cohort at the local level, and then the mysterious clan of gu masters.

There was no doubt that even more forces lurked in places unknown.

Compared to the showy Huguang-wang and Dongjiang-wang, Dingbei-wang seemed to be more difficult to deal with, and also more elusive.

“Qin Chuan is investigating the gu master side,” Qin Xiao said. “He mentioned before that there is indeed a sect in the jianghu with ties to Nanjiang gu techniques. But it’s only hearsay, and he hasn’t found any definite traces of them.”

“Have him send people to follow that Miss Zhou. She might provide a lead,” Chu Jiubian said.

Qin Xiao nodded. “He knows what to do. What do you plan to do with the gu in your possession?”

“Find an opportunity to hand them over to the Nanjaing saintess. She has more expertise in this area.”

“En.”

They wouldn’t immediately capture Miss Zhou, but instead use her to lure out the hidden gu master.

It mattered little if the effort came to nothing. With confirmation that the gu master belonged to Dingbei-wang, they could focus their defenses against the vassal king.

Silence fell in the hall.

“Tonight –”

Qin Xiao had barely begun to speak when Chu Jiubian said: “I’ll be staying at Yaotai Residence tonight.”

The underfloor heating system in Yaotai Residence had been prepared, so Chu Jiubian could have gone back long before now.

Qin Xiao looked at him and said nothing.

Chu Jiubian caught a glimpse of his expression from the corner of his eye. He didn’t get a good look, and didn’t intend to look closer.

“I’m heading to the Ministry of Personnel.” He rose to his feet and walked straight out the door.

Qin Xiao remained seated, gazing thoughtfully at his retreating figure.

A long moment later, he suddenly reached up and touched his face.

Bai Lihong was outside playing in the snow when he saw his Xiansheng leave in a hurry. He tilted his head, then looked back toward Yangxin Hall, only to find that his Jiujiu wasn’t following him out.

The child had recently sensed the awkward atmosphere between his two guardians. He didn’t understand what it was, but worried that they would quarrel.

So he stopped what he was doing, and after instructing Xiao Yuzi to go prepare dinner, he hurried back to the hall on his short legs.

When he walked in, he saw that his Jiujiu had produced a small mirror from somewhere and was gazing at his reflection, turning it this way and that.

“ ? ” The child leaned against Qin Xiao’s knees and tilted his little head up, asking: “Jiujiu, what are you doing?”

Qin Xiao put away the mirror. He looked down at him and asked: “What does Your Majesty think about my looks?”

“Handsome and dashing, romantic and gallant! Jiujiu is the strongest and bravest-looking person in the world!” The child didn’t hesitate at all, his eyes shining with sincerity. He was clearly being honest.

Qin Xiao smiled and pulled him into his arms.

Bai Lihong glanced at him a few times, then tilted his head and asked: “Jiujiu, are you unhappy? Did you argue with Xiansheng?”

“No.”

“Then what happened?”

Qin Xiao gave it some thought, then said: “Jiujiu doesn’t know how to win Xiansheng’s heart.”

“Ah?” Bai Lihong was struck dumb.

This was something he knew nothing about.

“Does Jiujiu want to marry Xiansheng?” Bai Lihong asked, puzzled. “Men can win the hearts of other men?”

Qin Xiao said decisively: “Not if they’re an ordinary person.”

“Ah? Then you –”

“I’m not ordinary,” Qin Xiao said.

Bai Lihong: “….Oh.”

Uncle and nephew were silent for a moment. Then Bai Lihong asked: “Xiansheng doesn’t like you back?”

“Xiansheng is a closed door,” Qin Xiao said. “Right now, Jiujiu wants to pry open that door and drag him out.”

“Ah? Is that really a good thing?” Bai Lihong didn’t think that sounded right, but he wasn’t entirely sure why.

Qin Xiao smiled and didn’t elaborate. Instead, he asked: “Were you scared when Jiujiu killed that person?”

The child gave that some careful thought, then said: “At first, I was. But he committed evil deeds, and according to the laws of Great Ning, he deserved the death penalty.”

Bai Lihong had recently begun studying law, but he didn’t know all of it yet.

“Just don’t cry when you go to sleep tonight.”

“Of course I won’t.” Bai Lihong puffed out his chubby cheeks and kicked his short legs. Then he tilted his head back to look at Qin Xiao, asking: “Jiujiu, do you care about a lot of people?”

Qin Xiao nodded in agreement: “I do.”

“I do too,” the child said earnestly. “Jiujiu, I read some notes Imperial Father left behind yesterday. He wrote that the more people you care about, the more vulnerabilities you have. So an emperor must learn to stand alone. Is that true?”

Qin Xiao was taken aback. But instead of asking where in the world he had found the late emperor’s notes, he said: “Caring about others isn’t a bad thing. There is no need for Your Majesty to stand alone.”

*

*

That night, Chu Jiubian moved back to Yaotai Residence.

But strangely, he had a hard time getting to sleep.

The room was warm, but the blankets no longer held the scent of another person, and there was no human-shaped body pillow at his side for him to prop his legs on.

He tossed and turned, completely unable to fall asleep. Frustrated, he sat up and called to the System: “Do a medical scan on me.”

He suspected he was having another episode. A year ago, when he was the sickest he had ever been, he had suffered from insomnia night after night and rapidly lost weight.

[Okay, Host. Scanning….scan complete.]

[Host is in good physical condition. Your mental state is average, hormone levels are elevated….]

[Scan result: Host appears to desire an intimate companion –]

Chu Jiubian shut off the System to shut it up.

He sat silently in bed for a long while, and the advice the System gave him when he first transmigrated to Great Ning crossed his mind.

Follow your heart.

Chu Jiubian was very clear on the fact that he wanted to see Qin Xiao.

He wanted to. So much.

*

*

In the Western courtyard of Yangxin Hall.

An oil lamp burned dimly in the main room. On the bed lay a blanket and two pillows placed side by side, with no one occupying them.

Qin Xiao reclined languidly on the soft couch by the window, the collar of his ink-black underrobes lying wide open.

On the game board before him, sets of stones, one black and one white, formed a continuous line.

He rolled a piece between his slender fingers, his expression giving no hint as to his thoughts.

Suddenly, there came the sound of soft footsteps in the courtyard.

His fingers went still, and his thin lips curved almost imperceptibly as he raised his eyes toward the door.

Those soft footsteps reached the door of the outer room and stopped.

One breath. Two….

The man inside the room stared at the doorway, while the one outside stood in silence.

Chu Jiubian felt like something was wrong with him.

He was the one who’d said he was going back to his place to sleep, and now here he was looking for Qin Xiao because he couldn’t sleep.

He pressed his lips together tightly. Then, he turned to march out of the courtyard.

However, he had barely taken two steps when the door behind him creaked open. Chu Jiubian paused.

The person behind him closed the distance in a single stride. A warm palm closed around his cold hand, then pulled him into the room without a word spoken.

The door closed behind him. Before Chu Jiubian could even react, his hand was pressed against the man’s bare pecs.

Qin Xiao had done it on purpose.

Chu Jiubian looked up. In the dim light coming from the inner room, he could faintly make out the man’s deep-set features. They seemed to hold a smile, but also a burning heat.

Chu Jiubian’s throat bobbed.

“Why were you leaving again?” Qin Xiao asked, his voice so low that it was almost a whisper.

They were standing very close. Chu Jiubian could almost feel the heat radiating from him, dispelling most of the chill he had collected on the way here.

Chu Jiubian had no words.

He didn’t know why he had come and then left. He must be sick.

“Chu Jiubian,” Qin Xiao said.

The other man rarely addressed him by name. For some reason, Chu Jiubian’s heart tingled.

“What are you doing?” he asked with every appearance of composure.

Qin Xiao stared at him unwaveringly, not willing to miss the slightest change in his expression: “Is there someone else in your heart?”

Chu Jiubian blinked slowly. He didn’t answer right away.

He could guess the consequences of answering either “yes” or “no.”

Qin Xiao took both of Chu Jiubian’s hands in one of his and pressed them against his chest. The other clenched down on the doorframe behind him until the veins on the back of his hand bulged.

There was still the faintest of smiles on his face, an expression that Chu Jiubian found most difficult to resist.

But Chu Jiubian could feel the heartbeat under his hands speeding up.

“Not at the moment,” Chu Jiubian said.

Qin Xiao seemed to chuckle, the vibrations travelling up through Chu Jiubian’s palms.

There was a moment of weightlessness, and Chu Jiubian was easily swept into the other man’s arms and carried to the inner room in just a few strides.

The last light in the room was extinguished.

It was overcast that night, with the moon hidden behind the clouds. Chu Jiubian wasn’t a martial artist like Qin Xiao, and once the oil lamp was put out, he could barely see a thing.

When sight was gone, the other senses heightened.

He could feel the soft bedding beneath him. He could also feel the roughness of a man’s hands and fingertips caressing his body.

Perhaps because he had used the word “presumptuous” earlier in the day, Ning-wang behaved very courteously tonight.

His lips brushed lightly against Chu Jiubian’s without pressing down, and he asked in a low voice: “May I kiss you?”

Chu Jiubian’s throat bobbed, and he gave a faint “en.”

Qin Xiao captured Chu Jiubian’s lips in a fierce and domineering kiss. Chu Jiubian wrapped his arms around Qin Xiao’s neck, lifting his head slightly and voluntarily opening his mouth.

After an indeterminable stretch of time, the man’s scorching palm landed on Chu Jiubian’s waist, separated from bare skin by only a thin layer of fabric.

“May I touch you here?” he asked.

Chu Jiubian responded with a soft, uneven hum.

The hem of his robes was lifted up, and a tingling sensation spread throughout his entire body. Chu Jiubian felt a little dizzy.

It must be a nerve pain flare-up, he thought.

But he felt no pain, only an overwhelming and endless pleasure.

Follow your heart.

He repeated it like a mantra, suppressing the urge to flee.

Tears trailed down his cheeks, only to be gently kissed away.

A rough hand lingered at the small of Chu Jiubian’s back. The other man asked in a hoarse voice: “May I?”

Chu Jiubian couldn’t see anything clearly. He could only make out the indistinct shape of broad shoulders looming over him, casting him completely in shadow, an obstacle to his escape.

“Yes,” he heard himself whisper.

But in the end, they really couldn’t go all the way.

With no experience at all and no preparation, they struggled for quite a while without success and ended up drenched in sweat.

Chu Jiubian gripped the man’s solid arm and rasped: “Enough. Qin Xiao. Enough.”

Qin Xiao leaned down and embraced him. He pressed a kiss to his sweat-dampened forehead and whispered: “I’m sorry. I’ll learn how to do it tomorrow.”

Chu Jiubian: “…..”

No way.

He was going to die.

There was a court session the next day, and after all that tossing and turning, Chu Jiubian felt as if the second he closed his eyes, it was already time to get up.

Qin Xiao touched his face and said softly: “You rest. I’ll go.”

Chu Jiubian sent him a narrow-eyed look, then rolled onto his side and went back to sleep.

After a night of debauchery, the sun was already high in the sky when Chu Jiubian opened his eyes again, and Qin Xiao and Bai Lihong were already back from court.

Both of them were currently working in the council chamber.

Chu Jiubian got out of bed and readied himself at a snail’s pace.

The palace attendants had long been aware of the relationship between these two officials, and had formed the habit of boiling hot water every night when they first started cohabitating. Unexpectedly, last night was the first time it was put to use.

But none of them displayed any reaction. Even when they saw Chu Jiubian rising late, nobody sent him an extra glance or spoke a word about it.

Chu Jiubian didn’t care what anyone else thought. In any case, he was comfortable.

He made himself presentable before heading to the council chamber. Bai Lihong greeted him cheerfully, and Chu Jiubian smiled and exchanged a few words with him.

Only after taking his seat did Chu Jiubian look at Qin Xiao across from him.

There was a smile in Qin Xiao’s deep eyes, along with an unspeakable hint of ambiguity as he stared fixedly at Chu Jiubian.

Chu Jiubian’s lips curved, and he gave him a subtle wink.

He saw the other man’s expression change slightly. Chu Jiubian’s smile deepened, and he picked up a memorial to review.

A long while passed before the man’s fixed stare moved away from him.

After lunch, Bai Lihong took a stroll to digest his food and then settled down for a nap.

Qin Xiao, who had never before taken a midday rest, pulled Chu Jiubian into the bedroom.

It had taken him twenty-six years to finally eat meat, and although the meal had been half-vegetarian, Ning-wang had developed a taste for it and wanted more. So in broad daylight, he pressed the other person down on the bed.

Doing this in the darkness of night was one thing, but in the middle of the day, Chu Jiubian didn’t dare look up at the person on top of him. He turned his face away, and the kiss missed its mark.

Qin Xiao pinned his arms down with one hand, then gently took hold of his chin with the other and kissed him deeply.

An indeterminate amount of time passed before Qin Xiao pulled away slightly and looked down at the person in his arms.

The young man’s lips were deep red and moist, his eyelashes wet with tears. His expression was dazed and vacant, yet there was still a trace of tenderness in his light-hued eyes.

Qin Xiao’s heart gave a heavy thud, and he kissed him again.

He couldn’t seem to get enough.

---

[1] Pin (嫔) is middle-range rank for a concubine, below the Consort and Noble Consort, but above the lowest rank. ⮐

---

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Chapter 87 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 89

Ch 46 – It’s All Your Fault

Yu Xi was scared senseless by Sanjay’s words, and as a result, refused to have anything to do with him. He didn’t even dare speak to the man.

This was not a result Sanjay had anticipated.

Hadn’t this robot said that he had lived for a very long time? Why was his psychological capacity so poor?

That evening, Yu Xi took Tau along to see Kersz. He repeated Sanjay’s words to Tau, and felt that the pirate captain’s words actually made sense.

Tau made no attempt at all to soothe him, and nodded after a moment of thought: “There really is some truth to it.” Tau clearly didn’t care much about the matter, and left it at that.

Yu Xi felt even more wretched.

“Was it inevitable that someone like Sanjay would emerge?” Yu Xi couldn’t help but ask Kersz when he got home.

“What?” Kersz was in the middle of organizing some documents, and didn’t react immediately.

“Was Sanjay’s emergence nurtured by malice?” Yu Xi asked him.

“Of course,” Kersz replied. “Extreme conditions shaped him into an extreme man.”

Yu Xi let out an ‘oh.’

Yu Xi went silent for a moment, then asked: “Then is he at fault for his extremism?”

Kersz stopped what he was doing and gave Yu Xi his full attention.

“You see, there are many people like him. They even existed in the society of the ancient humans. Peel back the layers of the wicked, and you’ll always find a core of unluckiness.” Yu Xi felt that Sanjay had the worst luck of them all.

Kersz kept silent.

Yu Xi continued: “All manner of people emerged in the society of the ancient humans, and their appearance seemed to symbolize a certain inevitability.”

Kersz asked him: “There are plenty of unreconciled loners like me out there, right?”

Yu Xi nodded.

Kersz went on: “Then do you like them as much as you like me?”

“Of course not! You’re the only dear friend I have!” Yu Xi hastily clarified.

“Then you see, some problems aren’t that complicated. You don’t always have to look at things from the perspective of society as a whole. From such a wide perspective, you can’t clearly see individual people.”

“Then do you think it’s possible that he was just born a bad kid?” Yu Xi asked. “Even if he wasn’t suddenly struck by tragedy, he might still have been a threat to society.”

Kersz smiled and shook his head: “There’s no need to make assumptions about something that never came to pass, or use it as a pretext to hate him.”

Yu Xi came to the sudden realization that the words he had just spoken sounded remarkably like something Sanjay would say: “If you want to hate someone, you invent a reason for him to deserve death by a thousand cuts. That way, you can freely unleash your malice.”

“His behavior is malicious enough on its own,” said Kersz.

“He’s an evil that humanity itself created, so are his detestable actions just the backlash humanity has to face?” Yu Xi asked.

“Did the people he’s kidnapped ever abuse him personally?” Kersz shook his head. “I’m talking about specific individuals, not just the handful he happened to have a connection with. Those people could have had a future, but now they’ve been stripped of the right to even be called people.”

“I could also be considered one of them,” said Kersz.

Yu Xi seemed to finally realize the difference here, and he suddenly understood: “If he kills you, I will make him die an agonizing death.”

Kersz: “You won’t like how it feels to kill someone.”

“No! It’s not the same!” Yu Xi shook his head. “You’re too important. You’re different.”

Yu Xi couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to lose Kersz. He had never had a relationship like this before, and his affection for Kersz grew with every passing day.

Yu Xi froze after saying this, then went on: “This kind of ‘difference’ applies to human society as a whole, doesn’t it?”

Every person was ‘different,’ and everyone had people they cared about. But when this sentiment was applied on a grand scale, it was just like his previous galaxy, a stellar expanse blazing in solitude. So grand, yet nothing more than a tiny speck in the starry sky.

Why did Yu Xi feel that his own feelings were special?

Because he loved Kersz so deeply.

But then, why were they not special?

Because humans always loved other humans.

“So then all of this is nothing special?” Yu Xi murmured to himself, clutching his chest. “But I like you so much.”

“The way I like you is different, not like the rest of them.” Yu Xi didn’t notice that Kersz’s heart had begun to race, nor that a blush had appeared on his face.

“Oh, right, this is because I’m biased. My heart is skewed toward you.” Yu Xi nodded as he spoke.

Kersz took a deep breath. He felt his heart speeding out of control again.

Did Yu Xi understand what he was saying?

Yu Xi was immersed in his own thoughts. It seemed so incredible: “I thought that at the very least, I was able to see myself clearly.”

Yu Xi had originally thought of himself as a machine, lacking any desires. He’d thought he was detached from emotions, but realized later on that he just had no one to connect with.

Even later on, he thought he liked everyone, but soon realized that he was actually quite partial. He only liked those who were close to him – especially Kersz.

“But I haven’t figured myself out completely,” Yu Xi sighed. “Am I hiding things from myself?”

“No, that’s not it. I just haven’t fully matured yet.” Yu Xi had thought he’d reached the end of his life, but now he felt that he was just beginning to grow.

“You really understand a lot,” Yu Xi told Kersz.

“Well…I haven’t exactly matured yet myself.” Kersz was not very old.

“You’ve only been alive for a little over thirty years. How do you know so much? I really admire you. You’re really amazing.” Yu Xi gripped the blanket tightly.

“I probably don’t know as much as you do.” Kersz felt Yu Xi press closer, leaning against him without laying a hand on him. “It’s just that I’ve been here the whole time in the midst of it all.”

“Heavens.” This sentiment was very familiar to Yu Xi. It was loneliness.

Loneliness in the midst of clamor.

Yu Xi reached out and patted Kersz’s chest, then began to hum a lullaby to this human who had suffered for so long.

Kersz was still waiting for Yu X’s hands to wander, but Yu Xi never pushed for more.

Kersz went to touch the breathing lines on Yu Xi’s body, but as soon as he did, Yu Xi grabbed his hand. Yu Xi then pressed two kisses to the back of that hand, then drew it up to his cheek and nuzzled against it softly.

Kersz felt that at this moment, it would be insensitive to use his other hand to tease Yu Xi.

He felt a twinge of regret that accompanied him until he unexpectedly fell asleep. In his dreams, he returned to his childhood, where a young Kersz found a robot in the garden.

This supposedly powerful little robot looked very fragile.

Kersz approached the little robot, which trembled as it clutched the hem of Kersz’s clothes. It asked him: “Will you stay with me? I’m so scared.”

Kersz silently straightened his back.

The little robot huddled into his arms.

“Then I’ll hold you close! I’ll take you outside!” Kersz said elatedly.

The little robot clung to Kersz all night long, and the feeling of delight persisted until Kersz awoke from his dream.

When he opened his eyes, Yu Xi had already left.

He took a moment to orient himself, and then realized that something wasn’t right.

Why hadn’t Yu Xi said goodbye?

Had some sort of emergency come up?

Yu Xi had left in a hurry simply because he now had a way to refute Sanjay.

“You keep saying that those people are hiding amongst the crowd, but aren’t you hiding amongst a crowd of villains too?!”

Yu Xi felt a new sense of confidence as he confronted Sanjay again.

Sanjay: “That’s right.”

Yu Xi, who had been prepared to engage in a three-hundred-round debate: ……

He had been envisioning how he would bring this topic to a higher level once he shattered Sanjay’s worldview and reduced him to tears.

“I really am a little devil just hiding amidst the rest of them, ah.” Sanjay set no moral requirements for himself, and didn’t condider himself to be even slightly ethical.

Yu Xi felt a bit dejected.

“I’m being honest when I say that I don’t want to die. I can give you everything you want. Even if I don’t have it at the moment, I can go out and take it for you.” What Sanjay truly feared was waiting for his doom day after day. He was completely under this robot’s control, and could find no way to break the deadlock.

“But there’s really nothing you can give me, ah. I have no appetite for it…..I’d like to keep a few more people on my planet, but I’m not going to resort to using force or coercion anymore. I only want humans who want to be my friend of their own accord.” Yu Xi felt that he had gone through a great deal of personal growth.

“Were you born with everything already in your grasp?” Sanjay asked.

“Of course.” Yu Xi didn’t feel that he had wanted anything when he was a robot vacuum cleaner, and when the notion of ‘wanting something’ occurred to him, the humans would always provide it for him. “Everything I wanted was given to me.”

“Then we likely grew up in entirely different ways.” Sanjay was finding this robot a pain to deal with.

“I’m actually a little curious about you and the extent of the evil you’ve had to deal with.” Sanjay seemed like an ideal research subject. “I have some….friends…..and one of their techniques involves linking the consciousness of two individuals, leaving even the darkest, most private thoughts with nowhere to hide.”

Sanjay: “Then would you like to have a look?”

Yu Xi, who had just been trying to intimidate him: “Ah?”

“In here.” Sanjay tapped his temple. “Do you want to see with your own eyes just how filthy it is in here?”

“Perhaps once you’ve seen it for yourself, you’ll realize why I’ve become the way I am now,” Sanjay said. “Perhaps you’ll become another me.”

Yu Xi stepped back with wide eyes.

“You say I deserve to die. You want to let me go to hell. Then wouldn’t you like to determine for yourself whether I truly deserve it?” Sanjay asked him.

Yu Xi continued to retreat, and Sanjay closed in on him: “Or have you realized the absurdity of all of this, and you simply lack the courage to look me straight in the eye and see how I came to be this way?”

“I’m not afraid to put everything I am out in the open, because I know there’s nothing good in there. There is nothing in me worth protecting.” Sanjay’s words were surprisingly fervent.

“T-then if you have nothing to protect, just turn yourself in.” Sanjay had backed Yu Xi into a corner, leaving him no way to retreat.

Yu Xi: “Why not expose the true faces of all those high-ranking officials? Pick the most wicked ones and take them down with you.”

Sanjay fell silent.

“Liar! You clearly have something you want to keep secret.” Yu Xi gritted his teeth. “All you know how to do is bully robots! You’re completely rotten!”

Sanjay reminded Yu Xi: “I’m obviously the one whose life is on a countdown. I’m under your control.”

Sanjay knew that he was a bad person in the eyes of the world, but he didn’t believe that his behavior toward Yu Xi could be described as ‘completely rotten.’

“If you hadn’t discovered me, I wouldn’t have to control you!” Yu Xi argued.

Sanjay: “If you were capable of exercising a modicum of restraint, and at the very least prevented that adult from fattening up, I might never have noticed.”

Yu Xi: ……

Yu Xi: “You could have easily rationalized the changes to Tau by giving him a few more mouthfuls of food each day. So when it comes down to it, it’s still your fault.”

Sanjay: “Huh?”

Did he have that responsibility?

“How can you be such a wicked space pirate, ah?” Yu Xi hadn’t forgotten the lie he told Kersz. How was he going to cover it up later?

“You’re putting me under so much pressure, ah.” Tears began to well up in Yu Xi’s eyes.

Sanjay gestured to his own face, tilting his head slightly.

---

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Chapter 45 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 47

Ch. 117 – Standoff

“Shixiong…..” Fang Yang called out with some trepidation, staring in the direction of the black mist.

His Useless Shixiong had actually gone and challenged Ling Yun. Even though Fang Yang knew that he shouldn’t praise the enemy, Ling Yun was truly formidable, ah. He had been a figure above all others a century ago, surpassing everyone else in swordsmanship and in cultivation.

Could his Useless Shixiong really defeat someone that strong?…..Fang Yang couldn’t help but worry. But his voice was unable to penetrate that barrier, and there was no way to see through it.

Just as he was worrying, he felt a weight on his shoulder. Turning his head, he found Hao-dage giving him a comforting pat.

He was doing the same to Cao Zirui, and he instructed the two youths who were standing there foolishly: “Stop watching, it’s no use. Go and dig up all of the Living Soil.”

“But Shixiong…..” Fang Yang knew that Hao Chen’s reasoning was sound, but there was still some anxiety in his voice.

“Feng-shixiong…..he’ll be okay, won’t he?” Cao Zirui asked.

The four of them generally looked to Feng Ye as the pillar of their group, but Feng Ye wasn’t available. Hao Chen’s cultivation was pitiful, but he was, after all, a bit older than them.

So at this moment, the two youths looked up at Hao Chen together, hoping to find some comfort in him.

Hao Chen looked left and right, then dropped the haughty expression on his face and solemnly promised: “He’ll be fine. I won’t let anything happen to him.”

The enemy in front of them was formidable, and given Hao Chen’s apparent strength, such a statement seemed to be a grave overestimation of his abilities. But inexplicably, Fang Yang and Cao Zirui felt their suspended hearts begin to settle somewhat.

They exchanged a glance. Then, setting aside their pointless worrying, they turned and devoted all of their focus to digging up the Living Soil.

Hao Chen stood where he was, holding his fan. His eyes narrowed as he looked in the direction of the black mist.

Since Feng Ye was the one to propose that he duel Ling Yun without any spiritual power, he would respect his decision and not make the first move.

However…..if he didn’t make a move, wouldn’t that black snake try some sort of underhanded trick?

As of now, the black snake had simply transformed into a barrier to prevent outside interference, and had indeed claimed that he wouldn’t involve himself.

But what credibility did a creature like that have? Lies and deception made up the very essence of such a thing. Hao Chen didn’t believe a single word out of that black snake’s mouth. He would have to stay close in order to prevent a sneak attack on Feng Ye.

But he was also unable to enter the barrier. After all, the two boys were still out here, and so were Jianmu and the Living Soil, which were of utmost importance.

If he left them behind, he might very well become the tiger being lured away from its mountain.

He needed to keep an eye on both sides. An ordinary person might not be able to be in two places at once, but he was no such person.

Out of sight of Fang Yang and Cao Zirui, a feather drifted out from Hao Chen’s sleeve. Before it could touch the ground, the feather transformed into a crow as black as night, which spread its wings and took off into the wind.

The barrier formed by the black mist was tens of meters long on all sides, completely impenetrable, blocking both sight and sound.

It did not, however, have a ceiling. After flying upward only a few dozen meters, the black crow successfully flew in through the unobstructed top.

Although the light was dim, he had previously dispersed the clouds obscuring the moon, and could just barely make out the scene below in the moonlight.

Feng Ye and Ling Yun stood facing each other with a little over ten meters between them. Both gripped the hilts of their swords, but the battle had yet to begin.

The crow found a tree and perched on a branch. As he cast his gaze around to guard against a sneak attack by the black snake, he secretly eavesdropped on the conversation between Feng Ye and Ling Yun.

Ling Yun’s hand opened and closed around the hilt of his sword as he examined it. It was of the most ordinary make, lacking any patterns or ornamentation.

Yet despite how unremarkable the blade was, he felt a long-lost sense of familiarity. Once upon a time, he had possessed a sword just like this one.

A sword was indispensable to a sword cultivator. He had wielded countless precious swords of every tier, and Mountain Breaker, that heaven-grade spiritual weapon passed down through the generations of Lingxiao Sword Sect, had once been his personal sword.

Of all the swords that had entered his hands, this iron sword that was issued to every member of Lingxiao Sword Sect was by far the most ordinary. Yet strangely enough, none of the other swords had made as deep of an impression on him as this one.

Because this was the sword he’d wielded when he got his first glimpse of the sword dao. The very first sword he’d ever had.

This battle would perhaps be the most difficult one he would ever face. His opponent was incomparably powerful. He had so easily laid waste to everything Ling Yun had painstakingly built one hundred years ago, while Ling Yun himself stood on the ground, gazing upward at that god amidst the clouds, helpless to resist.

He was using the most ordinary of swords to face the strongest of enemies. At this thought, Ling Yun suddenly had the slight urge to smile.

It had been a very long time since he’d done that. Just like the night before, the muscles in his face strained to form an unsightly, eerie smile.

He also hadn’t conversed with someone in a very long time. His body hadn’t perished in the heavenly fire, but his soul had been burned to ashes. He was as cold and lifeless as a pool of stagnant water.

Everything he had gone through over the past hundred years had left him unable to feel joy or sorrow. He didn’t care about anything anymore. His sect, his shidi….all of it could be cast aside.

All except for one thing – revenge.

His soul, reduced to ashes, was born anew amidst the flames of hatred, igniting that pool of stagnant water.

He called across to Feng Ye: “Oh god, you were once so high and mighty, unable to tolerate even a grain of sand in your eye. Someone as insignificant as me probably never caught your notice.”

Ling Yun spoke to him using honorifics, but there wasn’t the slightest hint of respect in his voice. Instead, there was a frenzied madness, a release of long-suppressed emotions that finally had somewhere to vent.

Ling Yun pointed the tip of his sword at Feng Ye: “But now, you’re actually willing to lower yourself to my level and face me using only human strength. Why is that?”

Despite asking this question, he didn’t actually expect to get an answer from Feng Ye.

He tilted his head and answered the question himself: “It’s because you feel guilty. Seeing the blameless victim you once killed appear before your eyes, you want to make amends.”

He fixed a glare on Feng Ye, then snapped a rebuke in his hoarse voice: “Such….hypocrisy!”

When he spat those two words between gritted teeth, they sounded as if he had gnashed them to shreds a thousand times, his broken tone carrying all of the hatred engraved into his heart.

Feng Ye’s brow twitched almost imperceptibly, but his expression didn’t change in the face of Ling Yun’s rebuke.

“Guilt?” Feng Ye repeated, then denied it: “I feel no guilt toward you.”

“I also didn’t do anything wrong.” Feng Ye looked straight into those raging, hateful eyes, and spoke each word with clarity.

This answer surprised both Ling Yun and the crow up in the tree. Hao Chen had always assumed that the dragon would take the events of one hundred years ago to heart and blame himself for it, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

Guilt stemmed from committing a transgression, but he had done nothing wrong. Feng Ye was very clear on this point. What would have happened had he not severed Jianmu? Would those climbing the great tree have survived?

No, they would not. Jianmu had already become a ladder for resentful creatures to ascend to the heavens. They were merely using the humans as a cover, and once those demons set foot in the heavens, those humans would become useless trash to them.

And how should trash be dealt with? It should be casually tossed aside or used as something to whet their appetite before the slaughter in the heavenly realm commenced.

To this day, Feng Ye had never regretted his decision. Ling Yun was not wrong to plant Jianmu, and Feng Ye was not wrong to cut it down.

His attitude toward Ling Yun was complex.

He admired this human’s aspirations, and acknowledged everything Ling Yun had sacrificed in order to cultivate Jianmu – even his very heart. And as for Ling Yun’s ultimate end, he felt regret and sorrow. Regret for his death, and sorrow that…..he was unable to save everyone.

Due to this combination of emotions, he had proposed this method to confront Ling Yun in order to give him a fair fight. But amongst everything he was feeling, guilt was not a factor.

Feng Ye’s answer was like a splash of hot oil poured onto Ling Yun’s fury. His anger was out of control, but he no longer wore the half-mad look from before. His tone was mocking: “That’s right. To you, there is naturally nothing wrong with killing a mere handful of humans, nor destroying my life’s work.”

“Your life’s work? Your life’s work was to connect Jianmu to the Emberless Horizon, turning it into a ladder for demons to ascend to the heavens, a calamity unto both the heavenly and mortal realms?!” Feng Ye snapped back.

He wasn’t certain whether Ling Yun was aware of the truth of the events back then, and by saying this, he was sounding him out.

This was the first time Hao Chen had heard Feng Ye speak the truth of the matter, and although he had long had suspicions, he didn’t know the specific details. Just as he thought, there was indeed more to the story of Yinglong severing Jianmu one hundred years ago. The crow was impressed with his own cleverness, and ruffled his feathers smugly while watching with focused attention.

The conversation between Feng Ye and Ling Yun was hugely informative, taking up all of his focus. For this reason, he didn’t notice the black snake slowly and cautiously slithering its way up the branch toward him.

As the black snake drew closer, Feng Ye and Ling Yun continued to talk.

Hao Chen was astonished by this revelation, but Ling Yun revealed no surprise at all. On the contrary, he didn’t even seem to care: “So what?”

Feng Ye’s expression sank: “You knew back then that Jianmu would connect to the Emberless Horizon?”

Judging from Ling Yun’s lack of surprise, he was certainly aware of the truth, and his uncaring expression made it likely that he had known everything a century ago.

But unexpectedly, Ling Yun denied it: “I didn’t know back then.”

Feng Ye stared: “Then why are you…..”

Why this attitude of indifference?

Before Feng Ye could finish his sentence, Ling Yun cut in and said as a matter of course: “So what if a passage to the Emberless Horizon was opened? So what if there was slaughter in the heavens, if the people of the mortal realm were plunged into suffering and bloodshed?”

A low, hoarse chuckle suddenly escaped his throat: “That is exactly what I’m hoping for.”

Feng Ye was stunned speechless, and stared at Ling Yun in disbelief. How could this former sect leader of Lingxiao Sword Sect…..have such sadistic thoughts?

Had even his close friends, family, and disciples failed to notice the madness within him?

No, it wasn’t that they failed to notice. Feng Ye immediately dismissed his own doubts. No matter how well a person might disguise himself, it was impossible to maintain such a convincing act. The admittedly arrogant Ling Yun of a century ago, who patiently and tirelessly instructed his disciples, had not been putting on an act.

He had simply changed.

A century wasn’t particularly long, but it was long enough for a great many things to change, including the naturally volatile human heart.

His experiences over this century were unknown, but he no longer cared about the people and ideals he used to treasure.

He would stop at nothing to carry out his revenge, including working with a monster and turning against his former sect.

It was as if he had truly transformed into that Rakshasa, crawling out of the underworld solely for the sake of vengeance.

Feng Ye stared at this person who was so consumed by hatred. He wanted to inquire further, to find out how Ling Yun had become this way.

But Ling Yun had no desire to waste his words on him. He could hardly wait to trample this once high and mighty god underfoot, to shatter his arrogance, just as Ling Yun’s had been shattered one hundred years ago.

In a flash, he was already in front of Feng Ye. Even without the use of spiritual power, his natural speed and strength were already at the pinnacle of human capability.

His sword struck like a flash of lightning, only its blurred afterimage visible to the eye.

His opening move was a breathtaking and decisive killing blow. Feng Ye held his sword in front of him horizontally, and reacted in a split second to detect a weak point in Ling Yun’s attack and block it.

Amidst the ringing clash of swords, the black snake finally closed to within half a meter of the crow. But the crow remained huddled up in a ball, watching the fight below with rapt attention and unaware of the nearby danger.

The black snake stopped his careful slithering and reared back. His muscles coiled beneath his scales like a bowstring pulled taut – and then he lunged at the crow without warning.

---

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Chapter 116 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 118

Ch 45 – Rotten Fruit

“My heart has been very heavy lately.” Yu Xi intertwined his fingers, pressing the backs of them against his forehead. “I told a lie.”

The space pirate captain: “What does that have to do with me?”

Yu Xi looked up at him: “Wasn’t it you who came to talk to me?” Just as he was wishing he had someone to pour his heart out to, the space pirate captain had come along.

“I wanted to say that whatever Kersz is giving you, I’ll pay double,” said the space pirate captain. “Your friend Kersz is…..a loner. He doesn’t have many people around him. You could easily be dragged down with him if you stay by his side, but with me, it would be a different story.”

“So I could be hunted down along with you?” Yu Xi had a feeling that this space pirate captain was trying to scam him.

“You could solve that problem easily, couldn’t you? Just like you’re helping Kersz.” The space pirate captain sent him a smile.

“He’s just one person. Your operation is too big.” Yu Xi shook his head.

“You need scale to access resources. What exactly is Kersz offering you?” the space pirate captain pressed.

Kersz had limited access to resources. Whatever he had in his hands, the space pirate captain possessed as well.

“He gave me a friend. A very, very dear friend,” said Yu Xi.

“Do you not believe that I can double what he’s offering you?” The space pirate captain didn’t believe a word of Yu Xi’s reply.

“Are you going to befriend me yourself or make one of your subordinates do it? Are you alright in the head?” Yu Xi used to look down on Kersz for having an unhealthy mindset, but at this point, he realized that at the very least, Kersz was a good person deep down. He had simply been driven to extremes.

This person standing before him now was a real piece of work.

“You want people?” The space pirate captain grasped the key point. “I can give you people. If you want affection, that’s even easier.” 

Human emotions were the easiest thing to manipulate.

“I can’t reason with you.” Yu Xi wanted to continue to stew in his feelings, but the space pirate captain gave him no opportunity to do so, determined to find a way to get a leash on Yu Xi.

Yu Xi was fed up with his nagging: “Sanjay, can you just let me have some peace and quiet for a while?”

Sanjay was the space pirate captain’s real name.

“I just don’t understand why you’re willing to lend your help to Kersz, but not us.” Sanjay couldn’t wrap his mind around it. “Do you think that he’s righteous, and we’re evil?”

“You really are quite wicked. Don’t think that I’m just biased against you.” Yu Xi was getting a headache from Sanjay’s persistent conversational assault. “I don’t necessarily endorse Kersz’s actions, but he’s really not as convoluted as you are. He doesn’t want very much either.”

“He doesn’t want very much? He would gladly wipe out anyone he perceives as evildoers.” Sanjay felt that Kersz was very much like himself.

“Kersz always holds anger in his heart. He’s not as desperate for survival as you.” Yu Xi felt that Kersz was just searching for an answer, one that he might never find.

Sanjay’s actions seemed more like they stemmed from existential dread. He needed more and more power, more and more money…..but he himself likely didn’t know what amount would be enough.

Sanjay simply needed these things to feel secure. So he kept demanding more, never stopping, until all of his plans collapsed at this moment in time.

“I’ve lost everything,” Sanjay said to Yu Xi.

Yu Xi looked over at him.

“You can’t expect me to be as naive as Kersz. The childhood I remember wasn’t nearly as pleasant,” said Sanjay.

“I know.” Kersz had told him.

“His parents loved him, while I…..I killed my own parents.” Sanjay’s face contorted pitifully.

Yu Xi grew vigilant. He didn’t believe that this human was actually baring his heart to him.

This rotten human probably brought up his unpleasant past all the time and used it to his advantage. Did any of it really affect him at this point? Yu Xi had no way of knowing, but he was certain that Sanjay, this wicked space pirate, did not consider this a matter of monumental importance. And there was no way he had suddenly become so innocent and genuine.

“It’s difficult to say whether or not my relationship with them would have gotten any better had we not fallen victim to space pirates.” Sanjay leaned his head against the wall. “But it’s too late to wonder about it now. From what I remember, they were just a couple of assholes.”

“They coveted my nutrient solution. I only got one bottle per day, but they still tried to snatch it away.” Sanjay’s voice seemed to catch in his throat. “I thought they were supposed to love me, but they never did.”

“Every day, I had to be on guard against them snatching my food. I bowed and scraped to those space pirates so they’d throw me a mouthful of food, but even that was stolen from me later,” Sanjay said. “Those space pirates watched them steal my food. Watched me cry. Watched me scream.”

“Everything I possess, I’ve had to seize by force.” The second Sanjay stopped speaking, he felt a hand patting his head.

“Ai.” Yu Xi was very disappointed in himself.

He was fully aware that Sanjay was playing the victim, and that he had harmed a great many people. But after hearing all of that, Yu Xi really couldn’t hold himself back.

“If you help me survive this time….” Sanjay looked at him. “I promise I’ll change.”

“…..Would you like to eat real food? I can give some to you.” Yu Xi didn’t give him an answer.

He would not help Sanjay, because those humans he killed would never return.

Those ordinary people had been suddenly kidnapped by space pirates, stripped of their identification, and sold off to others……it never should have happened, and couldn’t be brushed off as a result of this person “having a difficult past.”

Yu Xi had no plans to intervene too deeply. He only needed to ensure that his human didn’t die.

Sanjay may look upset, but he felt no anger or resentment.

It was simply how this human operated. When he realized he was at a disadvantage, this human would make every effort to conceal his aggression, and would even go so far as to expose his vulnerabilities.

Sanjay had no interest in food: “Are those ordinary people really so innocent?”

Yu Xi: “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Those pirates once filmed themselves toying with me. The video circulated on the StarNet for a while, but they deleted it later on when they decided it reflected poorly on them.”

“Those people liked watching me look like a crazy person. They enjoyed watching me fight my own parents for food. And when they learned that my parents had once been small business owners and I was the ‘young master’ they had raised, their ‘liking’ for me grew even deeper.” Sanjay fixed his eyes on Yu Xi.

“They found old images of my parents when they were still glamorous and radiant, and compared them to what they were reduced to in captivity. They found images of my parents hugging me, and compared them to how they hurt me. They took particular delight in watching a young master like me being reduced to a savage.” A look of great confusion came over Sanjay’s face. “I tracked down some of the commenters later on, but everyone said that they were kind to others in their daily lives. That they were good neighbors, good partners, good parents, friends, and children.”

“I don’t understand, ah. I just don’t get it. How can ‘good’ people take such pleasure in another’s suffering?” Sanjay placed a hand on his chest. “They relentlessly searched the Starnet for my parents’ past careless remarks, and used them to prove that they deserved their fate.”

“My parents were adults, and actually snatched the food out of my hands. They were simply unworthy to be called human. Their affection for their child was merely an act.”

“And me, I was a write-off. I was no longer human. I dared to raise a hand against my own parents and groveled to those space pirates. I even got into physical brawls with my parents.”

“In the end, they reached a conclusion – that none of us deserved to be called human. And having come to that conclusion, they could laugh as much as they wanted.”

“I was confused for such a long time. I was still a person, ah.”

“Why couldn’t they see that?” Sanjay tilted his head. “What do you suppose lies beneath the skin of those people?”

“What lies beneath the skin of any person?” Sanjay asked earnestly. “Do you know what kindness is?”

Yu Xi didn’t answer.

“I know. Kindness is just the fear of death. It’s cowardice,” said Sanjay. “They’re terrified of being labeled as ‘unkind’ and ostracized from society. Once someone is proven to be unkind, those ‘kind-hearted’ people will have an outlet for their anger.”

“They hide themselves within their respective groups, pretending to be the same as those around them, pretending that everyone shares the same goals and the same ways of thinking. One advantage of doing this is to leverage their commonalities. They perceive every conflict as being directed at their group, and they hide within their ranks, inconspicuous, kind-hearted, and innocent.” Sanjay smiled. “This world is full of such people!”

“I did things their way, selecting those who deserved to die, but then they turned around and called me vicious, saying that those people were pure and innocent. Why?” Sanjay grabbed Yu Xi’s sleeve. “I was only showing them exactly what they taught me. Why couldn’t they accept it?”

“I thought my parents would close their eyes with dignity and quietly await their deaths, devoid of any hatred, kind-hearted and sacrosanct.” 

Sanjay let out a sigh: “But why did even those people scream and wail, begging me to spare them, casting all of their dignity aside?”

“They even hurled vicious curses my way. Underneath their skin, people are all the same.”

“When their bellies were full, they curried favor in order to get a bigger share of the food. They might have even been moved by their own virtue.” Sanjay felt Yu Xi try to break free from him, and clutched his wrist. “But when food was scarce, they couldn’t help but covet what was in another person’s bowl, as if they wish they could stuff that person whole into their mouths and chew them up.”

“Everyone is the same. There are no exceptions.”

“My parents were nothing but a couple of savages who had finally revealed their true colors. Just like me.”

He was frightening Yu Xi.

Sanjay continued: “Am I not someone they personally created? It’s not that I wanted to hurt them, ah. It’s that they needed me. They were the ones hungering for me.”

“Otherwise, why would they have nurtured me at all?”

---

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Chapter 44 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 46

Ch. 116 – Showdown

Ling Yun was not wearing his mask. His identity had already been exposed, so there was no need for concealment.

Feng Ye had a clear view of his face.One half was normal and even handsome, invoking a sense of goodwill in anyone who saw it, while the other was grisly and terrifying, as hideous as a ghost’s.

Viewed separately, there was nothing particularly odd about either side. A human was a human, and a ghost was a ghost, but these two diametrically opposed faces were being worn by the same person.

The human side didn’t diminish the eeriness of the ghostly side, and instead, the combination made him appear even more unnatural.

This was what Ling Yun had become – neither human nor ghost.

Behind him hung the bright moon on the horizon. The branch he stood upon was no thicker than the joint of a finger, so thin that it shouldn’t have stood a chance of bearing the weight of an adult man.

The branch bent under the weight, but didn’t break. No matter how the cool night breeze blew or the tree swayed, he stood perfectly steady upon the curved branch.

His wide, flowing sleeves billowed in the wind, and in the dark of night, he resembled a wandering spirit, silently watching the four people below.

Feng Ye stopped what he was doing and got to his feet, looking up to meet Ling Yun’s gaze.

The sound of his movements finally alerted Fang Yang and Cao Zirui that something was wrong. They turned to follow Feng Ye’s gaze, and their eyes widened.

Although they had met Ling Yun once before, it had been a brief encounter, since the Grand Array collapsed directly after Ling Yun’s mask shattered.

Then came their desperate escape, and after running and fighting all night long, there had been no time to process the shock of meeting Ling Yun.

But at this moment, it all came flooding back.

How was Ling Yun not dead? Why, over the course of a century, had he not once contacted his former friends, family, or sworn brother? To this day, Ji Chengyue didn’t know that his shixiong was still alive and had been reduced to this state. He had endured the grief and remorse alone for a century, mourning his shixiong.

And how had Ling Yun come to be involved with that black snake, which must be the same creature who instigated Xue Ren and impersonated Yinglong?

Ling Yun was once the sect leader of Lingxiao Sword Sect, and even if that was in the past, his ties to the sect were unbreakable.

Anyone else might act against Lingxiao Sword Sect, but never Ling Yun. He was the one destined to lead the sect to the true “Lingxiao,” ascending to the heavens. Why then had he instigated Xue Ren to rebel?

Even if he hadn’t been the one to instigate him, he couldn’t have been unaware of it. And the fact remained that despite his knowledge of the situation, he did nothing about it, a clear violation of a sect leader’s duty to protect the sect.

Fang Yang and Cao Zirui couldn’t wrap their heads around it. They couldn’t understand how Ling Yun had become like this. His gaze was so icy that it didn’t seem to belong to a living person, and only when looking at Feng Ye did a hint of heat return to his eyes.

Heat from the flames of vengeance.

These flames naturally paled in comparison to the heat of heavenly fire, but at this moment, Feng Ye felt the heat in those eyes with such intensity that it was almost painful. His fists clenched.

After recovering from the shock of Ling Yun’s sudden appearance, Hao Chen slowly cast his gaze sideways at Feng Ye.

Right or wrong notwithstanding, that event a century ago had claimed so many lives. This soft-hearted dragon was certain to be sorrowful.

Likewise, he might even feel a lingering guilt, and upon seeing this surviving ghost, he might not be able to bring himself to act against him.

Hao Chen had already come to a decision: if Ling Yun appeared again as their enemy, Hao Chen would be the one to deal with him. 

With this in mind, he drew a pearl from his sleeve and gave it a flick straight toward Ling Yun’s left shoulder, the same spot where Feng Ye had been wounded.

At the same time, he took a step to position himself in front of Feng Ye.

With his line of sight blocked, Feng Ye stared at Hao Chen with some surprise.

Ling Yun reached out and caught the pearl shooting toward him. He took a closer look and recognized it as the same type of pearl that had been used in a sneak attack inside the Grand Array. It had caused his attention to stray, allowing Feng Ye to pierce through the area where his heart should have been.

The chill in his eyes deepened by several degrees. He clenched his fist, crushing the pearl into a powder that drifted from his fingertips. Hao Chen had successfully diverted his attention, and Ling Yun cast a cold look toward the troublemaker.

The black snake slithered out of the collar of Ling Yun’s robes, fixing his eyes on Hao Chen. He flickered his tongue, then murmured into Ling Yun’s ear in a low, dangerous tone: “He’s in the way.”

Although the unexpected interference of the Kunpeng had not truly affected his plans, he was like explosive powder waiting to detonate, capable of disrupting their game at any time.

The black snake glared at Hao Chen with particular hostility, and Ling Yun’s gaze wasn’t any friendlier, icy enough to be several degrees lower than the frigid air of the North Sea.

Most people would have flinched under the looks in those eyes, or at the very least felt a sense of unease.

But Hao Chen was unmoved. His thick skin had been tempered through countless trials and tribulations, and these two pairs of eyes were nothing. Even if there were ten, a hundred, a thousand eyes staring at him, they would have no chance at piercing through his impenetrable hide.

He was the god who, in front of all the sea clans of the North Sea, had pointed at a tortoise and called it a turtle. 

Although that was really not something to brag about.

But it made clear that the thickness of his skin was something that couldn’t be matched by the average person.

Hao Chen’s expression didn’t change. He even wore a smile on his face, though it was far from genuine. Unfurling his fan, he laughed out loud at the person up on the tree branch: “Why didn’t you tell us you were going to stop by so late at night? You were so quiet that I mistook you for intruders and almost injured the two of you by mistake.”

His words were courteous, but his actions were not. He had clearly identified Ling Yun before throwing the pearl, and his aim was right on target.

But Ling Yun didn’t address his remark, his gaze shifting instead toward Cao Zirui.

Cao Zirui’s expression grew tense. He had realized why Ling Yun was staring at him.

“Hand over Jianmu and the Living Soil.” Ling Yun spoke softly in a hoarse voice that seemed to carry smoke and soot.

Although there wasn’t much emotion in his tone, the underlying sense of command and authority was undiminished.

Cao Zirui clutched the small jar that was strapped tightly across his body. Jianmu may have been discovered by Ling Yun, but the Ling Yun of today was not the same person. There was absolutely no way he could hand over Jianmu to this person who kept company with a demon.

However, whether it was Jianmu or the Living Soil, he might not have a choice.

Ling Yun had already been at the Hedao stage of cultivation one hundred years ago, and no other cultivator in the world could hope to match him. Now, with a demonic creature at his side, his strength had likely only grown.

Among the four of them, Cao Zirui possessed the highest level of cultivation at early Foundation Establishment, and he was suffering from internal injuries.

But what would it matter even if he was in perfect shape? Could a mere Foundation Establishment cultivator hope to defeat a sect leader?

The sword technique he practiced had been created by Ling Yun, who knew its weaknesses and flaws better than anyone. This was an enemy he was incapable of defeating.

He was helpless, and so was Fang Yang. Among their group, perhaps only Feng-shixiong, with his mysterious origins, stood a chance.

Cao Zirui looked toward Feng Ye, faintly hopeful, but before he could say anything, Hao Chen spoke up first.

“Jianmu and Living Soil?” Hao Chen’s voice held a tinge of half-feigned surprise: “We do have the Living Soil, it’s right here. But who among us has Jianmu in their possession?”

As he spoke, he deliberately turned to face Fang Yang and Cao Zirui.

Fang Yang shook his head like a rattle drum. Wasn’t Jianmu back at the sect? How could they have it with them? But…..come to think of it, what was that delicate seedling that had been revealed when Cao Zirui’s jar broke last night? It had slipped his mind, but now that he remembered, could it be…..

Fang Yang, who was a few beats behind, finally came to a realization.

Cao Zirui hesitated for a moment, but also shook his head.

Having received his answer, Hao Chen turned back to Ling Yun and spread his hands with a smile: “We don’t have it.”

“Furthermore…..” Before Ling Yun could reply, Hao Chen’s tone shifted abruptly, his pleasant smile gone without a trace.

Although he was standing on the forest floor with Ling Yun seven or eight meters above him, Hao Chen’s tone was one of lofty, arrogant ridicule: “Who the hell do you think you are, trying to rob someone right in front of me?”

He would shamelessly pester Feng Ye, occasionally feigning weakness in order to eat his tofu, displaying not a shred of the dignity inherent in a great god of the heavenly realm. But that was only due to his affection for the person in question.

Going back in time a bit, his original attitude toward Feng Ye had been superior and aloof, and when he offered his assistance, he insisted that Feng Ye beg him first for his favor.

This was his true nature. In his many years of existing in a position of supreme authority, he had long since grown accustomed to looking down on others. He was the Lord of the North Sea, with millions of sea creatures bowing at his feet, submitting to his authority. Who would dare to claim to be his equal? Who was qualified to stand at the same level as him?

The black snake flicked its tongue, a dangerous glint flashing through its red eyes. That arrogance unique to the gods, that posture, as if everyone and everything was beneath him…..how nauseating.

“He has a death wish,” he cursed under his breath near Ling Yun’s ear.

Ling Yun extended his right hand, and the black mist hidden within his wide sleeves quickly condensed into the shape of a sword.

He held an equal loathing for that haughty, condescending attitude. A century ago, standing high above the clouds, Yinglong had worn the same look of disdain.

A blade identical to Xue Ren’s Fleeting Shadow took shape in the darkness. Its pitch-black length blended in with the night, impervious to the bright light of the moon.

The enemy had drawn his weapon. A fight was imminent.

Hao Chen unfolded his fan and held it to his lips, his eyes narrowing slightly above the rim. He wanted to see just what sort of abilities these two half-human, half-ghost things possessed. 

The atmosphere between the two sides was a drawn bowstring, ready to let loose at any time.

But just before the arrow actually left the string, an arm suddenly nudged Hao Chen backward.

Feng Ye, who had been silent all this while, pushed Hao Chen behind him. He was perfectly aware of why Hao Chen, this persistently lazy fish, had stepped forward so readily now. It was entirely because Feng Ye was at a loss for how to handle this situation with Ling Yun.

Hao Chen didn’t want to put him in a difficult position, so he stepped forward himself to settle the matter.

But in the end, this was Feng Ye’s business. He was the one who severed Jianmu a century ago, and he was the one who killed Ling Yun. Therefore, it was only right for him to be the one to bring things to a close.

Feng Ye lifted his eyes toward Ling Yun and spoke the human’s name for the first time: “Ling Yun.”

Ling Yun’s expression iced over.

Feng Ye said word by word: “Do you dare to face me in battle without any spiritual power?”

The night wind swept past everyone gathered there. This unexpected challenge left them all off-balance, and Ling Yun didn’t answer immediately.

Cao Zirui and Fang Yang were stunned. How could the other party agree to such a request?

In their view, even if Feng Ye wasn’t as weak as he appeared, there was no possible way that he was as strong as the Hedao-stage Ling Yun. Not using spiritual power was basically asking the opponent to lower their strength for the match. No one with a working brain would agree to that.

But the reality was quite the opposite. By saying this, Feng Ye meant that he would not use any divine power, and would fight Ling Yun with the strength of a mortal.

It would actually be him lowering his strength, not Ling Yun.

Ling Yun remained expressionless as he stared at Feng Ye. After a long pause, he finally gave his answer with a single icy word: “Fine.”

“Hehe.” The black snake who had just been enraged by Hao Chen’s tone suddenly laughed. “Interesting.”

Fleeting Shadow dissolved in Ling Yun’s hand as he spoke. Since only mortal strength was to be used in this fight, the unstoppable Fleeting Shadow would naturally be in violation of the rules.

“Fang Yang, Cao Zirui, lend me your sect-issued iron swords.” Feng Ye spoke to the two boys behind him, who still didn’t understand what was going on. He didn’t turn around, his gaze fixed on Ling Yun.

Fang Yang and Cao Zirui were momentarily stunned when they heard this, but quickly recovered. Fang Yang was already holding his sword, which he had just been using to dig, so he wiped the dirt off the blade and handed it to Feng Ye.

Cao Zirui then searched through his storage bag. He naturally possessed one of the standard-issue iron swords, but after acquiring his high-grade spirit sword, he had set the ordinary weapon aside.

But rather than throwing it away, he had just tossed it into his storage bag. Unlike the meager capacity of the storage bags provided by the sect, his was so packed to the brim that it was practically a warehouse. Everything ended up in there, whether it was useful or not.

He rummaged through the mess before finally locating the standard-issue iron sword in a long-undisturbed corner.

He stepped forward, handed the sword to Feng Ye, and then stepped back.

Feng Ye tossed Cao Zirui’s sword to Ling Yun, who caught it in a steady grip.

He leapt down from his perch on the branch and stood ten meters away, facing Feng Ye.

Black mist emerged from Ling Yun’s collar and sleeves, and a deep male voiced echoed from within it: “In the interest of fairness, I won’t interfere.”

He looked at Hao Chen: “And neither will you.”

Just as he finished speaking, the mass of black mist that had separated from Ling Yun suddenly began to expand, swelling hundreds of times its original size in an instant.

It swirled in place like a tornado, swallowing the figures of Feng Ye and Ling Yun. At the same time, Hao Chen and the others were buffeted away from Feng Ye’s side and forced several meters back.

Once they regained their footing, they looked back at where they had been standing. The area was enveloped in thick black mist, which formed a barrier that completely sealed off every sight and sound within it.

This was a fight where no outside interference was tolerated.

A duel between a mortal and a god.

---

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Chapter 115 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 117

Xiao Yuzi entered with several sticks of tanghulu in hand, but there was a slightly disconcerted look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Chu Jiubian asked.

Xiao Yuzi swallowed hard and hurried to say: “Answering My Lord, this servant was just downstairs watching the Achievement Parade when I ran into a mysterious young woman who was dressed like a man.”

“The crowd moved toward the Western Market and I didn’t follow, but instead turned onto the main street to buy some tanghulu. The young woman also didn’t follow the crowd, and headed toward the Eastern Market.”

“After I bought the tanghulu and headed back, I passed a carriage. The curtain lifted briefly, and I happened to see that same young lady inside.”

“She seemed to be unconscious, and the bamboo hat had fallen off her head. I didn’t get a clear look at her face, but –” Xiao Yuzi’s face paled, and he looked at Chu Jiubian. “But that young lady had a head of white hair.”

Chu Jiubian’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Qin Xiao rubbed his finger over the thumb ring he was wearing, his expression unreadable.

Bai Lihong’s brow furrowed. He didn’t quite understand what was going on, but judging by the looks on Jiujiu and Xiansheng’s faces, something must be wrong.

Qin Chuan hadn’t reacted to the rest of Xiao Yuzi’s words, but turned his head when he heard this.

“Which way did the carriage go?” Chu Jiubian asked calmly.

“It headed down the street. The driver seemed to be a hidden guard. I didn’t dare follow, but I alerted the Imperial Guard, and they should be tracking the carriage.”

Just as Xiao Yuzi finished speaking, there was another knock on the door.

“Come in,” Chu Jiubian said.

The door opened to admit a man who was so unremarkable in appearance that one would forget his face after a single glance.

He was a hidden guard, not one of those that hid in the shadows and masked their presence, but a spy who disguised himself as a normal person to blend into the marketplace.

And he happened to be the exact vendor who was selling tanghulu on the street.

When he closed the door behind him, he immediately bowed and reported: “Your Majesty, My Lords, this subordinate has already sent people to track the carriage in the Imperial Guard’s stead.”

The Imperial Guard was too conspicuous. If they were to be the ones following, the carriage would certainly not continue toward its original destination.

So when this secret guard saw Xiao Yuzi depart after speaking to the Imperial Guard, he intercepted the two guards and ordered his own men to follow in pursuit.

“Then they’re leaving a trail to follow?” Qin Xiao asked.

The hidden guard answered affirmatively.

Qin Chuan looked at Qin Xiao, then got to his feet and said: “I’ll follow them.”

Qin Xiao nodded, then said to Xiao Yuzi: “Go prepare the carriage. We’ll return to the palace first.”

“Yes,” said Xiao Yuzi.

Half the people in the room left in short order, leaving behind only Chu Jiubian, Qin Xiao, and Bai Lihong.

Bai Lihong looked at the men to his left and right, saying nothing.

Chu Jiubian and Qin Xiao also remained silent for a moment.

“It’s Jiannan-wang again.” Chu Jiubian was the first to speak.

Qin Xiao’s gaze slowly swept across the silver hair draped over Chu Jiubian’s shoulders.

“He’s getting more brazen,” he said calmly.

Chu Jiubian also looked down at his long hair. He lifted a strand with his fingertips, lost in thought.

Jiannan-wang had always been brazen, and the dirty secrets at his residence were too numerous to count.

But the other party had always been cautious and methodical, never leaving behind any incriminating evidence.

For instance, there was the child named Xiao Tian who had been snatched away previously. Qin Xiao had sent someone to investigate, only to find that the other party had left no traces behind. If his guess was correct, then Jiannan-wang still had that child’s indenture contract in his hands.

In this era, a servant bound by such a contract was his master’s property, and lived and died on his master’s whim.

But as it happened, Jiannan-wang was very cautious, and took measures to avoid giving anyone leverage over him.

But what he had done today had nothing to do with caution.

The powerful and wealthy had all gathered here together, and among the merchants and common people, there was no telling how many of them were actually secret guards and servants of various households. The Imperial Guard were also present, keeping strict watch at every turn.

But Jiannan-wang had stirred up trouble by sending someone to kidnap a person in broad daylight. Was he unafraid of being discovered, or was he afraid that someone wouldn’t notice?

Also….

Chu Jiubian looked toward the doorway.

How had both Xiao Yuzi and the secret guard selling tanghulu happened to see inside that carriage?

Calling it a coincidence was laughable. It was more likely that it had been arranged for them to catch a glimpse.

Chu Jiubian looked up at Qin Xiao and said: “It seems someone is getting restless again. If I’m not wrong, that young woman must be the daughter of that wealthy merchant who asked Zuiliang-wang for help.”

The corners of Qin Xiao’s lips curved up in a chilling smile, and his dark eyes were just as icy: “Since they’re handing us a knife, we might as well take it.”

Regardless of who was trying to use them and Zuiliang-wang to target Jiannan-wang, it would be a waste not to seize the opportunity before them.

“Let’s go back to the palace,” Chu Jiubian said, rising to his feet. “Zuiliang-wang should be going there soon to request an audience.”

Qin Xiao stood as well, then casually lifted Bai Lihong down from the chair next to him.

Bai Lihong finally had a chance to speak, and looked up at them as he said: “Jiujiu, Xiansheng, what should I do?”

Chu Jiubian and Qin Xiao exchanged a glance.

How far they could go depended entirely on how much “compelling” evidence the person behind the scenes could provide to them.

Sure enough, less than a quarter of an hour after they returned to the palace, Zuiliang-wang Bai Liyan arrived to request an audience.

The three of them met with him in Yangxin Hall.

Bai Liyan bowed upon entering, and when Bai Lihong gave his permission to dispense with formalities, he said without even bothering to greet Chu Jiubian and Qin Xiao: “Your Majesty, please uphold justice for this subject!”

“Take your time, Imperial Uncle,” Bai Lihong said gently. “Sit down and have a drink of water before saying your piece.”

Bai Liyan sat directly below Chu Jiubian and took a quick sip of water before saying: “Your Majesty, a number of wealthy merchants and children of prominent families accompanied me to the capital this time to join in the fun.”

“Just now, one of the merchants noticed that his daughter had gone missing, and after his men searched long and hard with nothing to show for it, he came to this subject for help.”

The anxious expression on Bai Liyan’s face was genuine: “Would Your Majesty be willing to dispatch the Imperial Guard and the City Defense Force to aid in the search? The missing child is only thirteen or fourteen years old, and a girl at that. This….”

“So that’s what this is about,” Bai Lihong said. “Does the missing child happen to have white hair?”

Bai Liyan reflexively glanced at Chu Jiubian, and unexpectedly met his cool and aloof gaze.

Startled, he quickly looked away and said: “In-indeed she does.”

Earlier at the restaurant, that wealthy merchant surnamed Zhou had approached him and wept, saying that his daughter had gone missing.

Bai Liyan had originally tried to tell him that she had probably been swept away by the crowds and would return soon, but Merchant Zhou continued to beg for his help, and even asked him to seek out the Imperial Guard.

This merchant had been generous with his tributes in the fiefdom, and now that he had encountered such trouble, Bai Liyan naturally wanted to help however he could.

Thus, after sending his men out to search, he rushed over to the palace.

As for how he knew Chu Jiubian and the others would already be there, he had naturally seen their horses and carriage heading that way.

“What a coincidence,” Bai Lihong said. “This emperor’s people happened to encounter the carriage where the girl was held prisoner, and are already pursuing it. They will likely bring her back before long.”

Bai Liyan immediately breathed a sigh of relief and patted his chest, saying: “How wonderful. This subject will be able to give an account to the people of his fiefdom.”

“Zuiliang-wang truly keeps the common people in his heart.” Chu Jiubian turned his head to look at him.

Bai Liyan said hastily: “I am flattered, but I am merely managing a region of land on behalf of His Majesty. It is only right for me to be conscientious and dedicated to my duties.”

Chu Jiubian’s lips curved in a smile: “That merchant Your Highness mentioned just now – does he hail from the Fujian-Zhejiang region?”

“Indeed,” said Bai Liyan. “But this lord has only grown close to Merchant Zhou in the past two years, and this is the first time he has come to me for a favor. I was unaware that he had such a daughter.”

It was unknown why someone would have a head of white hair at such a young age.

“So that’s how it is.” Chu Jiubian took a leisurely sip of tea, then said, “We received word that Miss Zhou was abducted, but the identity of the culprit remains unknown. Does Zuiliang-wang have anyone he suspects?”

Bai Liyan gave a forced smile: “This lord is just as confused. Perhaps some miscreant took a liking to her appearance.”

“That could be the case. After all, the powerful figures in the capital have always loved beauty,” Qin Xiao said sardonically.

Bai Liyang said nothing, maintaining his forced smile.

Qin Xiao smiled too. He fixed his gaze on the man and said languidly: “The person who abducted Miss Zhou could be a member of a powerful family, or perhaps…..”

Bai Liyan slowly raised his eyes, and Qin Xiao continued: “Perhaps it was the doing of a prince. How does Zuiliang-wang think they should be dealt with?”

Their eyes met, and silence fell within the hall.

In an exchange between intelligent people, there was often no need to speak plainly. The words left unspoken were understood just the same.

Bai Liyan composed his expression and said: “Naturally, they shall be dealt with in accordance with the law. That scholar in today’s Imperial Examination knew this well, as does this lord.”

He was referring to Gu Fang, a criminal justice scholar. His firm and exacting approach would be useful right about now.

“Whether he is a noble, a high-ranking official, or a member of a prince’s household,” Zuiliang-wang said gravely, “abducting a girl in broad daylight is an audacious act that deserves no leniency. And since that person has laid a hand on one of my own people, this lord is of course even less willing to compromise.”

His meaning was that no matter who was revealed as the culprit, he would become the “blade” leveled at their throat.

Since Qin Xiao and Chu Jiubian wanted to hold the culprit accountable by law, Bai Liyan would charge ahead on their behalf and achieve such a result.

This was a demonstration of his loyalty to the Imperial Court, as well as a pledge of loyalty to the Emperor’s faction.

Chu Jiubian lowered his eyes and lightly brushed his fingers against his teacup. The heat emanating from it made his fingertips tingle, and his lips curved up slightly.

How could someone who survived the succession struggle and landed the wealthy regions of Fujian and Zhejiang for his fiefdom possibly be just a pleasure-seeking fool?

Zuiliang-wang already knew that this was a setup designed to use both him and the emperor’s faction to deal with a certain person.

But for him, wasn’t this also a good opportunity to cultivate a good relationship with the Imperial family?

Zuiliang-wang was hardly ambitious, and cared even less about the fate of his descendants. All he wanted was to continue living a carefree life for the rest of his existence.

For this reason, he didn’t plan to be one of those who challenged authority.

Of course, he could also claim to be the most intelligent of all the vassal kings.

He had understood the situation early on and knew that Imperial power was at its height, and that with Chu Jiubian and Qin Xiao here, Bai Lihong’s throne would remain secure for the rest of his life.

His fiefdom also bordered Southern Zhili, far enough from the Central Plains that even if other vassal kings rebelled, it wouldn’t affect him.

His current goal was to demonstrate his loyalty to Chu Jiubian’s faction in exchange for a long and peaceful life.

Qin Xiao’s smile deepened, and he said meaningfully: “Lord Grand Tutor is correct. Zuiliang-wang is indeed a benevolent lord who cherishes the common people like he would his own children.”

Zuiliang-wang chuckled good-naturedly, neither accepting nor rejecting the compliment.

There were no words needed.

As time trickled by, Bai Lihong quietly reviewed memorials.

He was capable of handling most official memorials on his own nowadays, and such a scene caused complicated feelings in Bai Liyan.

Back at his estate, a child so young would have to be chased around to get him to sit down for a meal. But here was His Majesty, sitting there as dignified as a grown man as he seriously reviewed memorials.

A thought suddenly occurred to him: with such an emperor, even if Qin Xiao and Chu Jiubian were no longer involved, Bai Lihong would still be capable of stabilizing both the court and the dynasty as a whole.

A burden seemed to lift from his shoulders, and Bai Liyan was even more convinced that he had made the right decision.

From Qin Xiao and Chu Jiubian to An Wuji and Hong Fu, and even the students of the Imperial Academy, the Emperor’s faction was filled with exceptional talents, ah.

At last, there was noise outside Yangxin Hall.

Qin Chaoyang himself arrived with a young woman following closely behind him, and was also trailed by Jiannan-wang Bai Lihai, who looked much more frail than even the young woman.

Behind them came two members of the Imperial Guard with a man restrained between them. It was the secret guard who had been driving the carriage.

At the moment the young woman stepped into the hall, all eyes turned in her direction.

With almond-shaped eyes and ruby lips, she was truly striking, but what drew the most attention was her white hair.

It was a color that grew naturally on humans.

It wasn’t obvious when viewed individually, but putting them in the same room made the difference between her white hair and Chu Jiubian’s own silver-white dye job very obvious.

Chu Jiubian’s hair had a glossy sheen and slight gray tint, while the young woman’s was a pure white that usually only appeared on the elderly.

Qin Xiao only gave her a mild glance before turning his attention toward the pale-faced Bai Lihai.

Chu Jiubian, however, stayed focused on the young woman. The young woman seemed to sense something, and looked up. She stared blankly for a second, then quickly lowered her eyes and shrank back as if afraid.

Chu Jiubian’s lips curved.

Inside his head, the System was wildly flashing a red alert: [Warning! Warning! Poisonous gu detected in Host’s vicinity! Highly toxic! Please take caution! Please take caution!]

“Mark them,” Chu Jiubian said internally.

The System gave an outrageous price: [Ten points.]

“Five points,” said Chu Jiubian.

The System: [Eight faith points have been deducted from Host.]

A white gleam flashed across his eyes, and when he looked closer, he could see five or six green points of light glowing near the young woman’s abdomen.

Those green lights stayed dormant on her body, without moving around.

Qin Chaoyang reported the events that had just transpired. After leaving the restaurant, Qin Chuan had followed the carriage that abducted Miss Zhou.

After circling the market, the carriage had stopped at the rear side gate of Jiannan-wang’s manor.

A servant had opened the gate, and the hidden guard driving the carriage slung Miss Zhou over his shoulder and carried her inside.

Such a scene was commonplace there, so none of the manor’s guards or servants found it unusual. Just like that, they let the man inside and instructed him to carry the young woman to Bai Lihai’s courtyard. 

The driver then handed the young woman off to the courtyard guards and left the manor.

Qin Chuan then seized the driver and dislocated his jaw to prevent him from biting his tongue off, then handed him over to Qin Chaoyang when he arrived on the scene.

“So it was you!” Bai Liyan got to his feet and pointed at Bai Lihai, shouting angrily, “Jiannan-wang is truly audacious! How dare you abduct a young woman in broad daylight?! Do you have no regard for the laws of the Imperial Court?”

Bai Lihai quivered, as if frightened.

His legs gave out and he fell to his knees. Kowtowing to the young emperor, he said: “Your Majesty! Your Majesty, this subject has been wronged!”

“This subject truly knows nothing about this matter. Someone must have deliberately framed me.”

Bai Lihai looked toward the silent Miss Zhou and said: “Young lady, please help this lord explain. This lord truly knows nothing about what happened. The moment I laid eyes on you, I was prepared to immediately send you out of the estate! This lord didn’t even touch a single hair on your head!”

Bai Lihai had also gone to see the spectacle of the Achievement Parade, but had returned to his manor afterward to the unexpected sight of a woman in his courtyard.

When he asked a servant, he learned that someone had delivered her while he was away.

But since this sort of thing had happened so many times, and Bai Lihai was away from the manor, the servants assumed that Miss Zhou had caught his eye while he was out and he had her specially delivered to his residence first.

Only when the servants saw the look of complete bafflement on his face did they realize that something was terribly wrong.

Suspecting that he might have been framed, Bai Lihai had quickly apologized to the young woman and prepared to quietly send her away.

But no sooner had they stepped out the gates than Qin Chaoyang stopped them and took them both to the palace.

Bai Lihai sent Miss Zhou an urgent look.

But this seemed to frighten her, and she said in a teary voice: “This girl, this girl doesn’t know….”

She fell to her knees as well, unable to speak another word through her sobs.

Bai Lihai’s eyes darkened.

This young woman had been part of the plot from the very beginning, so of course she wouldn’t speak for him. He hadn’t actually expected her to.

Bai Lihai understood better than anyone who those criminal justice questions at the Imperial Examination that morning were referring to.

If he was found guilty of abducting a woman in public, not only would his reputation be ruined, but he might even lose his royal title. He might end up as an ordinary prince without a title or standing, or even a fiefdom. He would be below even his two younger Imperial brothers who still remained in the palace.

He couldn’t allow that to happen.

He was only dragging this out because he was waiting for his true saviors to come.

Naturally, those were a high-ranking official from the Xiao family and the Empress Dowager.

Chu Jiubian and the others knew very well what he was thinking, but they were in no rush.

No matter who showed up today, Jiannan-wang wouldn’t be able to keep his position. They would never allow him to contend for the throne.

“Don’t be afraid, child.” Bai Liyan went and helped Miss Zhou to her feet, then shielded her behind him and pointed a finger at Bai Lihai: “So, Jiannan-wang, what is there left to say at this point? Your behavior is a disgrace to our Imperial family! How is someone like you worthy of being called a prince?!”

Bai Liyan looked genuinely furious. He turned and bowed to Bai Lihong, saying: “Your Majesty, Jiannan-wang has committed such a grave offense. If word of this gets out, it will tarnish the prestigious reputation of the Imperial family. This subject begs that Your Majesty strip Jiannan-wang of his title and strike his name from the Imperial family register!”

Jiannan-wang looked up at him sharply, his delicate features contorting for a brief moment.

It was bad enough to strip him of his title, but to strike his name from the Imperial family register? That Zuiliang-wang was truly a calculating person!

Could the trap today have been set by him?

“Who intends to strike Jiannan-wang’s name from the register, ah?” A resounding female voice rang out.

Disregarding the attempts of the palace attendants outside to stop her, Xiao Ruohan forced her way in.

Even Bai Lihong had to rise to show his filial respect, while the others in the room bowed to her and Qin Xiao gave her a slight nod.

Chu Jiubian was the only one who didn’t rise from his chair. He just sat there sipping his tea, calm and self-assured.

Xiao Ruohan first helped Bai Lihai to his feet and gave him a reassuring pat. Then she approached Qin Xiao, who stepped aside to give her the seat directly to the Emperor’s right.

Xiao Ruohan sat down facing Chu Jiubian with a haughty expression.

Bai Lihong retook his seat, and the others sat down one by one.

“This Empress Dowager just heard something about the Imperial family register.” Xiao Ruohan’s frigid gaze fell upon Zuiliang-wang with the sharpness of a knife. “Just who does Zuiliang-wang want to strike from the register, ah?”

Bai Liyan didn’t seem to notice the threat in her eyes as he said with a frown: “There is something the Empress Dowager doesn’t know….”

He went over everything that had just happened in great detail. 

Bai Lihai quickly said: “Grandmother, I didn’t do it!”

The word “grandmother” made Xiao Ruohan’s heart ache even more, and her eyes darkened further as she looked at Zuiliang-wang: “With one event after another, it seems to me that there are secrets hidden around every corner. Someone must be playing tricks behind the scenes.”

“The Empress Dowager must be joking.” Bai Liyan seemed agitated. “The evidence is irrefutable, and while outsiders might be unaware of Jiannan-wang’s particular interests, who among us doesn’t know? So many children have been brutalized by him. Corpses are carried out of Jiannan-wang’s manor practically every day–”

“Enough!” Xiao Ruohan shouted. “It is only the death of a few servants. Don’t they die by the dozens every day in the capital? Can it be that none are allowed to die in Jiannan-wang’s residence?”

Just as Bai Liyan was about to say more, Xiao Ruohan turned her gaze to Bai Lihong and said: “Your Majesty, there is surely more to this matter than meets the eye. I believe that further investigation is needed to unearth the true culprit.”

“When the snipe and the clam fight, it is the one lurking in the shadows that reaps the benefits. Do not allow us all to become knives in another’s hands.”

Bai Lihong’s brow furrowed. Unsure how to handle this, he instinctively looked toward Qin Xiao and Chu Jiubian.

But the two of them remained silent and instead turned their attention toward Miss Zhou, who was still shielded behind Zuiliang-wang.

Since the person behind the scenes wanted to get rid of Jiannan-wang, he certainly wouldn’t give up halfway.

Sure enough, the tearful Miss Zhou immediately stepped out from behind Zuiliang-wang and dropped heavily to her knees. With tears streaming down her face, she choked out: “Your Majesty, please see justice done for this lowly girl!”

*

*

Outside the palace, in the main courtyard of the Xiao estate.

Family head Xiao Yao sat in the main seat of the hall. The teacup in his hand shattered with a sharp crack, and a shard of porcelain cut into his palm. He barely seemed to notice, and simply took a handkerchief out of his pocket to blot away the blood.

His advisor sat in the seat below him with a troubled look on his face, hesitating to speak.

“Idiot,” Xiao Yao said in a low voice. “I’ve told him again and again to be cautious, but he just won’t listen.”

The advisor spoke up then: “Should we continue to shield him?”

The fact that he even asked this question revealed that he didn’t want the Xiao family to make any more sacrifices for Jiannan-wang.

For the sake of that fool, they had already lost Xiao Wendao’s deputy minister position, which put the Xiao family at a disadvantage.

There was no telling what they would lose if they protected him again.

Xiao Yao flung away the handkerchief in his hand and coldly looked outside: “Our family has never relied on a crown prince to make our way in the world.”

They had been overly-ambitious in the past when they reached for that position.

But now, it was clear that their ancestral precepts should not be violated. The Xiao family should rely on its women to secure marriage alliances and thereby establish a firm foothold in the world.

After all, with the Empress Dowager still in the palace, the Xiao family’s glory still remained. However, they should also begin cultivating the next empress, as well as the next emperor.

And of course, that emperor could not be Bai Lihong.

The advisor was relieved.

Everyone wanted to climb higher, but not everyone had the ability.

The Xiao family simply wasn’t cut out for it. Giving up early was actually a good thing.

“I just worry that this matter with Jiannan-wang will implicate us,” the advisor said with a knitted brow. “Our current position isn’t strong. If the Emperor’s faction decides to move against us…..”

He watched Xiao Yao’s expression carefully, and his voice gradually trailed off.

Xiao Yao looked him up and down, and suddenly smiled: “What path do you think the Xiao family should take from here, ah?”

The blood drained from the advisor’s face, and he fell heavily to his knees: “This subordinate has overstepped.”

Xiao Yao gave him a mild look. After a long moment passed, he said: “Go prepare brush and ink.”

“Yes,” the advisor said tremulously. He carefully withdrew, then returned shortly with writing materials.

Xiao Yao dipped his brush in ink and wrote two letters, then had someone deliver them separately to Huguang-wang and Dongjiang-wang.

These two vassal kings possessed great influence and were filled with ambition, and the Xiao family women in their households made them suitable candidates for investment.

Once he was alone, Xiao Yao closed his eyes and let out a long breath.

The Xiao family must only grow stronger and stronger in his hands. It absolutely must not decline.

*

*

Inside the palace, Xiao Ruohan waited and waited, but Minister of Personnel Xiao Huaiguan never arrived, and there was no further news from the Xiao family. Her expression gradually began to look ugly.

She had thought that if she bought some time, the Xiao family would find evidence that Jiannan-wang had been wrongly accused.

But to her surprise, over a shichen had passed with no news at all.

A chill ran through her as she finally guessed what choice the family head had made.

They intended to abandon Bai Lihai.

In other words, they also intended to abandon her, the Empress Dowager, and instead groom another woman from the clan.

The former empress who once held both the Xiao family and the Imperial family in the palm of her hand now found herself entirely isolated and without support once more. But she no longer had the ability to curb the raging tide. Suddenly, a look of weariness appeared on her impeccably maintained face.

As she waited for news from the Xiao family, Chu Jiubian and the others were waiting as well.

Everyone was aware of the Xiao family’s choice at this point, so there was no longer any need for discussion about how to deal with Bai Lihai.

Qin Xiao looked at Qin Chaoyang and said: “Present the evidence to the Empress Dowager.”

Ever since the open and covert power struggle between Qin Feng and Xiao Ruohan began inside the palace, Qin Xiao had been gathering evidence of the Xiao family and Jiannan-wang’s crimes. The time had now come for this incriminating evidence to be put to use.

Qin Chaoyang took a bundle of papers from his sleeve and handed them to Xiao Ruohan.

Xiao Ruohan read through them one by one, the look on her face growing increasingly ugly. When she reached the end, she even lost her composure for a moment and fixed Qin Xiao with a deadly glare.

Qin Xiao just smiled at her: “His Majesty is benevolent. In consideration of the Empress Dowager being his grandmother, you will be allowed to save some face in the end.”

Xiao Ruohan’s expression contorted.

These papers contained no evidence of Jiannan-wang’s crimes. He was indeed a cautious person, and had left nothing behind that would allow anyone leverage over him.

What was recorded in them was evidence proving the crimes Xiao Ruohan committed during the reigns of Emperor Chengzong and Emperor Yingzong, which included harming the Imperial heirs and concubines within the palace.

Even worse, Qin Xiao had also pinned the deaths of Emperor Yingzong and Qin Feng on her.

By inserting this fabrication among solid facts, he would be able to convince everyone that she was the culprit. That because she shared no blood ties with Emperor Yingzong, she wanted to elevate her blood-related grandson Bai Lihai, which was why she murdered Emperor Yingzong and Qin Feng.

Naturally, that was a lie. Emperor Yingzong had obviously been killed by Qin Feng.

But she had no way to prove her innocence!

Qin Xiao was threatening her. If she insisted on protecting Bai Lihai, these pieces of evidence and rumors would reach the ears of the world at large. Should that happen, she would definitely lose her position as Empress Dowager.

Qin Xiao was still willing to give her the opportunity to save face, but Bai Lihai could no longer be saved, and she certainly wouldn’t be able to remain in the Imperial Palace.

But as long as she could preserve her reputation, the reputations of the Xiao family women would be preserved as well.

Should the Xiao family support someone in seizing the throne in the future, a daughter of the family still had a chance to become Empress and mistress of the inner palace.

Xiao Ruohan closed her eyes.

She crumpled the sheets of paper into a ball.

When Bai Lihai glanced up and saw her face, his own expression shifted slightly. He said: “Grandmother –”

Xiao Ruohan abruptly rose to her feet. She looked at Bai Lihong with a cold, resolute expression and said: “Your Majesty has grown up. This grandmother of yours has nothing left to say, and will take her leave.”

With that said, she turned and walked out of Yangxin Hall.

Panic finally set in for Bai Lihai, and he quickly reached out to grab the edge of her robes: “Grandmother! Grandmother, where are you going? You can’t abandon me!”

Xiao Ruohan’s eyes stung, glimmering with a hint of tears. But she forcibly pulled his hand away and went out the door without looking back.

Bai Lihai had been valuable and precious from birth, his father a vassal king and his mother a daughter of the Xiao clan.

His father later became the emperor, and his mother the head of the four Imperial consorts. He became the most favored prince in the palace, as well as the most likely to inherit the throne.

Relying on his status and position, he had committed many outrageous acts.

Because he knew that he had people at his back.

He also knew that he was the one the Xiao family was relying on.

But he had still been afraid, because he knew that he was different from ordinary men, that he was unable to experience the same joys, let alone sire children. 

How could a prince who was unable to produce heirs become the emperor?

So he feigned illness and made himself look weak, which allowed him to mask his shortcomings. He even rounded up various men and women to abuse in order to appear like a normal man.

But he feared that these people might reveal his secrets, so he left none of them alive in the end.

He behaved in an obedient and sensible manner in front of his elders, and only he himself knew how dark and twisted he really was.

He had always thought that he would one day become emperor, but also that the truth would eventually come to light, so he was torn between fighting and giving in to despair.

And then, when the Emperor and his mother both passed away, the throne that should have been his fell into the hands of Bai Lihong.

He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, but still grew increasingly resentful. With nowhere to vent his anger, he unleashed it upon those innocent men and women.

Watching them weep, beg, and struggle had satisfied him deeply. But he had never imagined that this matter would come back to bite him.

He had even been framed by another party.

He had done this sort of thing so many times, had tortured and killed so many people, but it was only when he was most “innocent” that judgment fell upon him.

Wasn’t that absurd?

Bai Lihai laughed, wild and unhinged, finally dropping his two-faced facade.

He knew that when he stepped out of the palace gates today, he would no longer be the high and mighty Jiannan-wang. He would be reduced to the lowest of the low, the target of everyone’s mockery.

In the face of that, it was better to carry his honor with him in death.

He straightened up, looked at everyone in the hall, and began to hurl insults and curses without restraint, venting his emotions wildly. He looked like a madman, but the others just watched him calmly.

Even Bai Lihong on his throne wore a placid expression that perfectly matched the expressions worn by Chu Jiubian and Qin Xiao.

He looked toward the “god” seated above, whose eyes held neither sorrow nor joy, as distant and aloof as any of the statutes in their temples.

“God.” He laughed until tears trailed down his face. “If a god won’t save someone, if he won’t help me, then he’s nothing but trash!”

Just as he was about to unleash more profanity, Qin Xiao raised his hand. The words died in Bai Lihai’s throat as a deep gash appeared across his neck.

Chu Jiubian gazed quietly into his eyes, which remained open in death.

He knew nothing about how Bai Lihai had grown up, the unspeakable secrets he carried, nor the joys and sorrows he had experienced.

He just knew that gods saved people, not monsters.

[On the first day of the third month of the second year of Jingrui. Jiannan-wang Bai Lihai committed dozens of instances of kidnapping, murder, and preying on the common people. He was stripped of his noble title and struck from the Imperial family register, demoted to the status of a commoner. Jiannan-wang took his own life to answer for his sins.]

[Overcome with grief, Empress Dowager Xiao Ruohan moved to a remote Imperial courtyard to recuperate, and did not return to the capital for the rest of her life.]

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Chapter 86 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 88

Ch 44 – Guilty Robot

In recent days, the space pirate captain had encountered something incomprehensible. The child he had kidnapped didn’t appear to have lost any weight, and wasn’t in low spirits at all. He didn’t even seem to be particularly afraid of him.

The situation hadn’t been normal from the very beginning. It had already been seven days, and the child hadn’t lost a single ounce despite being given only a single bottle of nutrient solution per day.

But the child wasn’t even the strangest part. The strangest part was that the other prisoner, the adult, had actually gained weight.

The pirate captain was completely dumbfounded. He felt that Tau’s current situation violated the law of conservation of energy, and even began to suspect that there was a problem with his own memory. He carefully compared the images taken of Tau before his capture with his current ones, and there was indeed an additional roundness to Tau’s face.

Still, it wasn’t a huge change. Perhaps this person tended to swell when overly anxious?

Was this bloating?

“You seem to be eating quite a lot lately.” Yu Xi went to see Tau again that evening, and reached out to give his face a gentle pinch. “You’ve even put on some weight.”

Tau went still, then his expression began to shift toward horror.

It was the first time Yu Xi had seen such intense emotion on Tau’s face.

“I’ve gained weight?!” Tau said through the meat pie he was currently chewing. “How could I have gained weight?!”

“You’ve been eating a substantial amount of food lately, but it’s nothing to worry about.” Yu Xi assumed that Tau was self-conscious about his physique. After all, Kersz was very particular about his own figure.

Some time ago, Yu Xi had casually mentioned that Kersz’s body fat percentage seemed to have gone up…..which Kersz reacted rather strongly to.

Yu Xi didn’t think anything of it. After all, Kersz’s body was stunning. A slightly higher body fat percentage just filled him out a little more and gave him a full-bodied look.

But Kersz very much minded. He began to deliberately control his diet, and increased his physical activity.

Yu Xi figured that Tau was a similar case: “Actually, this is very normal. You’ve been stuck here with no opportunity to exercise, which would naturally lead to weight gain, ah.”

“But they only give me one bottle of nutrient solution per day.” Tau disagreed with Yu Xi’s assessment, and spoke while still chewing the food in his mouth: “I need to lose weight! How could I have overlooked such a thing? This is going to make them suspicious.”

So the reason Tau was so alarmed was because there was a flaw in his act?

“This kind of thing never used to happen to me.” Tau shoved the last meat pie into his mouth.

“Would you like some fruit juice?” Yu Xi asked him.

“Thank you.” Tau accepted the large bottle of juice Yu Xi handed to him and sipped it with a melancholy expression. “I’ve noticed lately that food is really delicious.”

It was so strange. He had never tasted real food during the first seventy-odd years of his life, and he should have had this epiphany the moment he took his first bite, just like Kersz.

Kersz used to love requesting food from Yu Xi, but he hadn’t been doing that lately. Perhaps the taste had already become commonplace for him.

“I never thought it tasted this good before.” Tau was helpless. He knew he should stop, but he couldn’t seem to control himself.

“I’ve heard a saying before.” Yu Xi watched Tau, liking the way he ate. “The ancient humans told me: as long as you’re still willing to eat, you can survive.”

Tau didn’t understand: “Why? Who wouldn’t be willing to eat this? It’s delicious.”

“Those who no longer enjoy the taste of food.” Yu Xi felt that this had been the case with Tau from the very beginning. His appetite had been practically nonexistent, and although he was able to taste the food, he had no particular feelings about the flavor.

As Tau sipped his juice, he couldn’t quite make sense of Yu Xi’s words.

“We’ll go home once you’re done eating.” Yu Xi changed the subject. “Are you really going to make so much paper food again? Xiao Konglong couldn’t even eat it all.”

“I just want him to have more options,” said Tau.

“You really are a good father,” Yu Xi remarked.

Tau pursed his lips as he continued to drink, feeling a faint pulse of joy in his heart.

In tacit agreement, the two of them ignored the issue of Tau’s weight gain and headed home.

Yu Xi was happily cuddling his human when Kersz asked about Tau’s situation.

That space pirate captain wasn’t an idiot. If Tau was gaining weight despite the mistreatment, there was no way he wouldn’t look into it.

Yu Xi felt that Kersz’s concern was unnecessary: “But there are no problems with the surveillance footage, ah. He’s able to see us and touch us, and I’m keeping an eye on him. No matter how suspicious he gets, he won’t be able to catch us. At most, he’ll start to think that something’s gone wrong with the science he so firmly believes in.”

“Is that so…..” Kersz was still a little uneasy. He had a feeling that things weren’t quite so simple. “Does Tau use the toilet at home each time he goes? The space pirate might notice something like that.”

“Of course he uses the toilet at home. Besides, they won’t be able to detect anything. I have full control of the medical facilities.” Yu Xi didn’t think there was anything to worry about. “Alright, you’re busy enough going through all the evidence, so don’t worry about things on our end.”

“Let me hold you.” Yu Xi nuzzled against Kersz’s cheek.

Kersz: “I still think that…..”

“Shh~” Yu Xi pressed a finger to Kersz’s lips. “I promise you, absolutely nothing will go wrong.”

“I’ve lived longer than you, and I have more theoretical knowledge in my head than you do,” Yu Xi said softly. “Will you trust me?”

Kersz was still a little uncertain, but he didn’t say so out loud.

“Kersz…..” Yu Xi’s tone turned somewhat aggrieved.

“Sorry, I’m not trying to be difficult. I’m just a natural skeptic,” Kersz hurried to say. “I know you’re way more capable than I can even imagine. Plus, Tau is an Illegitimate, and he always acts with extreme caution when he takes on a mission.”

It was true. Tau was an Illegitimate who had been sent to Kersz’s side by his father in order to act against him.

If Tau had allowed his physique to change so drastically, he must have given it careful thought and determined that he wouldn’t be exposed, and that Yu Xi was capable of handling the situation.

*

*

Elsewhere, each time Tau took a step, he performed a set of boxing moves, dropped down and did some situps, or jumped up and down a few times.

“Daddy, what are you doing?” Xiao Konglong asked Tau.

“I need to be a little thinner,” said Tau.

“Ah!” Xiao Konglong tried to cover his big mouth with his paws, but they were so short that they didn’t even reach his chin. “Daddy, are you going on a diet?! Dieting is terrible, oh.”

Tau: “I don’t think I can go on a diet.”

There was no way he could control himself like that.

Xiao Konglong: “You’re not eating less food?”

Tau: “I’ve been exercising so much that I actually want to eat more.”

Xiao Konglong: “Daddy, you won’t lose weight that way. You’ll just turn into a physically strong human with a high body fat percentage.”

Tau: …..

Xiao Konglong’s vocabulary had grown, and that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

“It’ll make me feel a little better,” said Tau.

Xiao Konglong: “Ah…..so that’s how it is…..”

The little dinosaur seemed to be a somewhat troubled. Tau wanted to ask what was wrong, but held back….because he didn’t want to hear the answer.

Tao took a look in the mirror and felt that the changes to his physique weren’t all that noticeable.

*

*

“I’m going to take away your daily bottle of nutrient solution.” The space pirate looked Tau up and down. “After all, you seem to be living the good life in here.”

Tau kept silent.

As expected, he had been discovered.

Tau put on a show of being terrified, as if he didn’t know what the future held for him.

Having said this, the space pirate suddenly felt that this wasn’t quite going to work. After all, he was currently communicating with Yara, and he might not necessarily have time to get to the bottom of what was going on with Tau.

He had his subordinates bring Yu Xi over.

“There’s something odd about you too, kid,” the space pirate said to Yu Xi. “I’m curious – why is it that you’ve been here for eight days, yet you haven’t gone to the toilet even once?”

Yu Xi: ……

Oh. He’d forgotten about that.

When drinking nutrient solution, he should have at least had to pee.

“I was originally going to wait, but I’m getting a little impatient.” The space pirate drew his sidearm.

Yu Xi took a step back.

The space pirate grabbed Yu Xi’s arm: “You’re familiar with guns? Then do you know what it feels like to be shot?”

The space pirate abruptly yanked the child closer, then leveled the gun at Tau: “Shall we see what your uncle looks like without a left hand?”

It was over.

Tau felt that it was all coming to an end.

He wasn’t concerned about losing his left hand, because as long as there was life left in him, his body could be restored.

But Tau didn’t think Yu Xi would be able to bear it.

Sure enough, the instant the space pirate began to pull the trigger, the door to the room shut on its own. White light streaked across Tau’s vision and he closed his eyes.

Surely Yu Xi hadn’t gotten so agitated that he released his galaxy. Right?

Was this the end of human civilization?

Fortunately, not long after closing his eyes, Tau heard Yu Xi’s voice.

“It’s over, it’s over, it’s over,” Yu Xi muttered repeatedly.

Tau opened his eyes.

What was going on?

Was that space pirate dead?

A second later, Tau found himself staring directly into the space pirate’s eyes.

That man and his two subordinates were tied up.

They seemed to be trying to speak, but their mouths were covered as well.

And as for the gun…..

Tau spotted a puddle of liquified metal on the floor.

It had melted?

But he hadn’t felt any intense heat, and the space pirate who had been holding it didn’t seem to be hurt.

“It’s over, it’s over.” Yu Xi had reverted back to his full adult size. He paced back and forth across the room. “I just promised Xiao Zi that I wouldn’t mess this up.”^[1]

Xiao Zi? Was he referring to Kersz? The prefix ‘Xiao’ seemed to be from the language of the ancient humans.

The meaning of this character seemed to correspond to “大,” which meant large, so it was referring to physical size.

So did it mean ‘mini-Kersz?’

Yu Xi continued to pace. Then he glanced at the pirate captain and let out a mournful wail: “I clearly promised him. I even said that I’ve lived longer than him and could handle all of this.”

Tau: “So what are you going to do now?”

Yu Xi: “Wuwuwu…..”

Yu Xi mourned for a long while. Finally, he spun around in a fluster to face the space pirates and removed the gag he had placed over the captain’s mouth: “You! Pretend like none of this ever happened!”

When he was finally able to speak, the pirate captain stared at Yu Xi’s face: “You’re that mysterious person accompanying Kersz? I’ve seen your face on a wanted poster.”

“Sure, you’ve seen my face, but you’ve never witnessed my abilities.” Yu Xi gave him a threatening smile. “To tell you the truth, none of the electronic systems here can escape my control. I can kill you at any moment!” 

The space pirate captain: “Then why did you let us kidnap you?”

“Because I found it amusing, ah.” Yu Xi grinned evilly. “Just look at the state of you now. Hilarious!”

He took a step forward, and one of the space pirate’s subordinates began to thrash about. Yu Xi quickly retreated: “Sorry, sorry, did I step on you? Does it hurt?”

Yu Xi went to inspect the space pirate’s leg, but Tau gave a couple of coughs and Yu Xi came to a stop.

He looked up at the space pirate captain, who raised an eyebrow.

Yu Xi kept silent.

Tau stood up and approached Yu Xi: “Tell Kersz.”

Just as he was about to switch on his communicator, Yu Xi stopped him: “No! Don’t! We can’t let him find out!”

Tau: “Ah?”

“I want to be a reliable robot. I….I can’t let him find out that I messed this up.” Yu Xi looked a little despondent.

Tau didn’t respond.

“Please don’t tell him, okay?” Yu Xi tugged at Tau’s wrist.

Tau heaved a sigh: “But what should we do now?”

Surely Yu Xi didn’t plan to impersonate the space pirate captain? No, Tau should be the one to do it. Yu Xi wasn’t cut out for acting.

But Tau had also lost his edge of late, and had no confidence in himself.

“You!” Yu Xi pointed fiercely at the space pirate. “Pretend like nothing happened!”

“Why should I?” The space pirate gave no indication that he was afraid of Yu Xi.

Yu Xi felt that it was time to show this man what he could do. He demonstrated his power by dragging out Facai, who had been languishing in boredom. Yu Xi was far more powerful than even Facai, and if he held such control over the Interstellar Alliance’s weaponry, he was perfectly capable of rendering every one of humanity’s smart devices useless if he chose to do so.

The power Yu Xi displayed dumbfounded both of the space pirate subordinates, and they began to wonder if this was all an elaborate trick.

It wasn’t until Yu Xi dug up all of the files they had hidden and deleted that they were 70% convinced.

“You’re very capable,” the space pirate captain said to Yu Xi. “If none of our secrets are out of your reach, then why go to such lengths? Is this just a game you’re playing with Kersz?

Presumably, that ‘fake father’ of Yu Xi’s was Kersz.

Kersz wouldn’t be here for the Supreme Governor, because Yara hadn’t been in contact with him much lately.

The pirate captain figured that he was the one Kersz had come for.

But if Yu Xi was able to retrieve all of their files himself, why make Kersz go through all that effort?

“Because I can’t interfere too much.” Yu Xi knew that his very existence was unfair to humanity, and he wasn’t even sure if Kersz’s choices were right.

It was true that he was able to resolve this issue more conveniently and efficiently, but he didn’t have the right to do so.

“Aren’t you the one who created your disguises? Wasn’t it you who enabled your optical computers to bypass the restrictions?” The space pirate captain didn’t believe that Yu Xi had nothing to do with all of this.

“I couldn’t just let my good human die, could I?” Yu Xi was a bit displeased.

“So you’ve already involved yourself,” said the space pirate leader. “And rather deeply at that.”

Yu Xi lowered his eyes, appearing to think over the space pirate’s words.

Tau: “Don’t feel bad.”

Yu Xi glared at the space pirate captain: “I advise you to speak nicely. My noninvolvement isn’t something that’s programmed into me, it’s simply a moral requirement I set for myself. If I were to find that protecting the humans who protect me is considered ‘involvement,’ and that taking control of all of humanity equally counts as ‘involvement,’ then if one day I lose control of my programming, I’ll just dominate all of you.”

The space pirate captain: ……

“I’m still holding myself to certain standards right now. You should restrain yourself a little.” Yu Xi’s craving to collect humans was much like a mouse’s craving for grain.

One small mouse had the ability to seize an entire granary, but Yu Xi only took what he needed. This made him a very well-mannered little mouse.

Yu Xi used to think that he was an emotionless robot, but he realized later on that it wasn’t that he lacked emotions…..he just had no one to interact with.

Yu Xi and the space pirate captain locked gazes.

The man smiled: “Okay, I agree.”

“Hold on, I’ve installed a failsafe in you. If you dare speak a word of this to anyone, you’ll endure the agony of having your skin flayed from your body,” Yu Xi said viciously.

“That doesn’t sound all that bad,” said the space pirate captain.

Yu Xi: …..

“This isn’t my original skin,” the man said with a smile.

“Stop talking. I don’t feel bad for you at all.” Yu Xi was actually just bluffing. The device he planted would keep the space pirate captain from moving or speaking, just like it was doing now.

He also fitted the two subordinates with this device, then released them with the instructions to go on as usual and pretend that Yu Xi and Tau were still hostages.

After Yu Xi fiercely chased them away, he became despondent again: “I really am a good-for-nothing.”

“What’s wrong?” Tau asked in confusion.

“When he said that the skin on his body isn’t his original skin, I actually felt sorry for him. He’s so wicked. Who knows how many people have lost their lives at his hands?” Yu Xi smacked his head. “I like humans so much. To feel sorry for such a rotten, vile human is an insult to all those who’ve died!”

Tau let out an ‘ah,’ and gave it some serious thought: “Then how can you control that kind of sentiment?”

Yu Xi shook his head: “I don’t know.”

Tau continued: “So we should direct our mercy only toward those who are worthy of it, and direct our hatred only toward the wrongdoers?”

Yu Xi felt that this was going a bit too far.

“Then should we determine how much pity or hatred to show someone based on the severity of the wrongdoer’s actions? What if a person is both good and bad?” This all seemed very complicated to Tau.

Yu Xi’s head was spinning.

“I don’t really understand any of this.” Tau couldn’t even comprehend his own emotions yet.

“You…..get some good rest.” Yu Xi returned to his cell, his mind in chaos.

He pondered over this issue for a long time, and when evening came and it was time to head out, Yu Xi went to seek out Tau again.

This time, he ran into the pirate leader on the way over. After threatening the other party, Yu Xi couldn’t be bothered to keep up the pretense any longer.

“Is this what you do every day?” the pirate leader asked.

“Uh-huh.” Yu Xi nodded.

Yu Xi went to Tau’s room and shared a meal with him, then led him out.

This time, the space pirate leader was lingering at the entrance.

Yu Xi greeted him out of politeness: “We’re heading home for now. We’ll be back later.”

“When exactly is ‘later?’” the man asked.

“‘Later’ means by tomorrow morning,” Yu Xi explained.

So the two of them went home to sleep every night?

Speaking of which, who exactly was this man they had captured along with Yu Xi? Another one of Kersz’s accomplices? Kersz was supposed to prefer operating alone.

Oh, right. He’d heard that one of the Supreme Governor’s Illegitimates had been captured by Kersz. It was said that the Illegitimate had sent his father a rather peculiar message, and that the Supreme Governor was having people investigate whether or not he was actually dead.

Then could this person be the Supreme Governor’s Illegitimate?

The space pirate captain found this very odd. He was very familiar with the characters of those Illegitimates, and the ones the Supreme Governor had planted within their pirate crew had all been ferreted out and killed.

Tau didn’t seem anything like an Illegitimate. He actually indulged in food after being captured and allowed himself to gain weight, which was far from the proper demeanor of an Illegitimate.

As he went home with Yu Xi, Tau suddenly sneezed.

“Daddy?” came Xiao Konglong’s worried voice.

“I’m fine.” Tau didn’t know where that sneeze had come from, and didn’t care to look into it.

Meanwhile, Yu Xi confided his suffering to Kersz. He couldn’t understand why he felt sympathy for that space pirate captain.

“Just because he’s an asshole now doesn’t mean he deserved all the suffering he went through before,” Kersz said. “People always like to wonder, ‘if he hadn’t gone through all that, maybe he’d be a better person.’ Most of the time, we know that’s probably true, and that’s why we feel pity for those kinds of people.” 

Yu Xi gasped: “I feel so much better now! You’re amazing~”

Kersz: “Hahaha, so what did he tell you, that the skin on his body isn’t his original skin?”

Yu Xi: …..

Yu Xi looked away and avoided Kersz’s gaze.

Kersz let out a soft sigh at Yu Xi’s guilty reaction: “Did something go wrong?”

“No, no, no! Not at all!” Yu Xi waved his hands frantically. “Really! If you don’t believe me, go see how Yara’s doing – she must be really distressed!”

“How could anything go wrong? Hahaha, you’re so funny!” Yu Xi seemed to find Kersz hilarious.

“You actually thought something would go wrong on my end? Hahaha!” Yu Xi clutched his stomach and fell onto the bed. “Aiyo, I’m laughing so hard I can’t even stand upright!”

Kersz: …..

Wonderful. Something had definitely gone wrong.

But Yu Xi hadn’t looked guilty when he returned, and his expression wasn’t too severe. The problem shouldn’t be too serious.

Surely the space pirate captain couldn’t have already figured everything out?

At most, it should just be a minor setback on Tau’s end.

“Yeah, how could anything possibly go wrong?” Kersz feigned ignorance to Yu Xi’s abnormal behavior and laughed along with him. “You’re so impressive!”

Yu Xi froze in place.

He scrambled to his feet and looked at Kersz.

A look of obvious guilt appeared on his face.

Kersz trusted him so implicitly, yet here Yu Xi was, lying to him and deceiving him. Yu Xi felt absolutely terrible at this realization.

“Kersz…..” Yu Xi wanted to tell the truth, but the lie had grown so massive that he didn’t dare.

“Never mind, it’s nothing.” Yu Xi quietly lay down on the bed. “I’m a little tired today. I’m going to sleep now.”

Kersz fell silent.

Good god! Yu Xi’s reaction was way too over the top!

So cute!

Should he comfort him? No, that would just make Yu Xi feel even guiltier.

Wait…..this didn’t mean he was going to miss his nightly dose of physical affection, right?

---

[1] Xiao Zi (小兹) is Yu Xi’s pet name for Kersz, which is spelled 克瑟兹 (Kè sè zī). ⮐

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Chapter 43 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 45

Ch. 115 – Endless Vitality

Feng Ye clutched his chest, trying to calm his wildly-beating heart. But those inexplicable feelings stirred restlessly within his blood like a stream flowing through the woods, ever in motion.

Yet the power of that stream was limited. It couldn’t sweep away a dam built of stone, let alone the barrier built at the threshold of Feng Ye’s heart.

Feng Ye turned his head away, avoiding Hao Chen’s gaze.

The surging of his blood subsided along with the gradually calming wind. The clouds had scattered away under the force of the gale, and moonlight spilled across the earth.

Cao Zirui quickly picked up the compass and seized this opportunity before it could pass them by.

After the wind subsided, the Peng bird had silently scattered into feathers under the cover of night, returning to Hao Chen’s hand. When he brought that hand back in front of him, the folding fan looked just as it always had.

Hao Chen fanned himself leisurely and followed Fang Yang over to Cao Zirui’s side, along with the now composed Feng Ye, to watch as he operated the compass.

After absorbing the essence of the moon, the motionless arrow of the compass suddenly began to rotate, alternately fast and slow. Cao Zirui wandered back and forth with the compass in his hand, heading whichever way the needle spun the fastest.

The group followed Cao Zirui in a wide circle. The arrow spun faster and faster, until at a specific spot at the edge of Nine-Step Cliff, it spun faster than ever before.

“This is it!” Cao Zirui exclaimed excitedly, looking down at the ground beneath his feet.

Feng Ye followed behind Cao Zirui and observed the terrain before him. It was certainly rich in vitality, but everything around it was equally lush, and he was unable to determine which spot in particular had the most life to it.

But the compass could. This must be the place where the vitality was most concentrated.

Feng Ye crouched down and scooped a bit of soil into his palm, rubbing it between his fingertips. The Living Soil must be here, but it wasn’t above the surface.

The vitality of this area was only high relative to other places, nowhere near the level of the regenerating Living Soil, which must be hidden deeper down.

“Let me use your scabbard for a second.” Feng Ye held his hand out toward Fang Yang.

Fang Yang gave an “oh,” then undid the strap tying his sword across his back and grabbed the hilt, sliding the scabbard off before handing it to him. Feng Ye then used the scabbard like a shovel, scooping away the soil.

When Fang Yang realized what he was doing, he immediately used his iron sword to do the same.

The digging went quicker with two of them. Cao Zirui held the compass, closely observing the movement of the needle, while Hao Chen alone stood idly in place.

But Hao Chen felt no shame. After all, he didn’t have a sword. Surely they didn’t expect him to dig with a folding fan?

This was the excuse he came up with, but in reality, he could have borrowed Cao Zirui’s sword if he actually wanted to help.

He didn’t want to.

His lazy and obsessively hygienic nature reared its head, and Hao Chen relied on his thick skin to crouch down beside Feng Ye and shamelessly fan him while he dug.

When the dirt had been mostly loosened, he waved his hand and sent a cloud of dust flying up.

“Cough, cough.” Feng Ye covered his mouth and nose.

Hao Chen sent him a guilty, apologetic smile.

Feng Ye glared back at him.

“Stop!” Cao Zirui suddenly shouted.

Fang Yang paused in the middle of his enthusiastic digging, and Feng Ye and Hao Chen looked over.

Cao Zirui stared at the continuously spinning arrow and murmured: “This is the Living Soil.”

“This is it?” Fang Yang lowered his head and gazed at the half-meter-deep pit they had just dug.

The soil on the surface was a yellow-ish brown, but as they dug, the soil underneath had gradually turned reddish-brown.

As he spoke, Fang Yang reached out to touch that darker soil, but Feng Ye stopped him.

Fang Yang sent him a puzzled look, but Feng Ye didn’t explain. Without a word, he reached out and took a pinch of it, rubbing it between his fingers.

He could indeed sense an incredible vitality within this soil, constantly renewing and seemingly inexhaustible.

But….a deep furrow appeared between Feng Ye’s eyebrows. He could faintly sense that something else lay beneath that vitality.

It was deeply hidden, and Feng Ye hadn’t actually detected the thing itself. He just had an intuitive feeling that it was there.

Feng Ye gave it some thought, then suddenly unwound the bandage from around his left palm and deliberately tensed the muscles there, causing the wound to split open.

Hao Chen gave him a look of reproach when he saw what he was doing, but was too late to stop him.

A single drop of blood trickled from the re-opened wound and fell straight onto the soil below.

Red blood soaked into the brownish-red soil, and in the blink of an eye, it vanished without a trace.

The process was so quick that Fang Yang and Cao Zirui barely managed to catch a clear glimpse.

Feng Ye and Hao Chen looked up at the same time and exchanged a glance. Both wore the same expression of grave alarm, and saw the same answer in each other’s eyes.

The moment that drop of blood soaked into the soil, the thing that lay beneath the dense aura of vitality showed itself for a brief moment. It was only a trace, but even that much was enough to give them a clear answer.

It was…..resentful energy. An immeasurable pool of resentment hidden beneath an equally immeasurable vitality.

Although the snake pit was used by the people of Western Qiang as a method of worshipping the serpent god, it was also a very cruel form of punishment.  The victims were bitten by snakes, but didn’t die immediately. Various toxins were injected into their bodies, causing their nerves to break down and their blood to coagulate.

Some venoms caused almost instant death, while others inflicted pain and itching so intense that the victims clawed at their own bodies until not a single patch of intact skin remained, leaving behind a heap of mangled, bloody flesh.

Such an agonizing death gave birth to extraordinarily powerful resentment in the victim’s final moments.

The bodies of those unjustly killed decomposed in the soil, but their undying resentment lingered on for thousands of years.

The true source of the Living Soil didn’t lie in the nutrients provided by those corpses. At least, not entirely.

The Living Soil got its name because of its inexhaustible vitality, but that ‘life’ wasn’t exactly what ordinary people imagined it to be.

No amount of corpses were able to provide infinite nutrients, and although the soil here was indeed fertile, it fell short of endless vitality.

But resentment was different.

Resentment gathered here, and instead of dissipating, it grew in power over time. This was the true nature of the Living Soil, its vitality nothing more than a shell for the ceaseless flow of resentment.

When it encountered blood, its bloodlust exposed its true nature.

The answer to the question of what went wrong one hundred years ago had finally been found: the problem lay with the Living Soil.

Such soil contained an enormous amount resentful energy, and as Jianmu absorbed its vitality, it inevitably absorbed the resentment as well.

Trees had no emotions, and this resentment and hatred normally wouldn’t have affected Jianmu.

However…..Jianmu had fused with a human heart.

This heart may have originally been pure, but without its owner’s knowledge or awareness, it had absorbed more and more of the resentment and hatred felt by the human sacrifices in their final moments.

Like attracts like, and the resentment of the mortal world called out to the resentment that made up the Emberless Horizon, opening a pathway to it.

Feng Ye was ultimately alerted by this situation, which led to the tragedy of Jianmu collapsing into the Eastern Sea.

This also explained why the small island created by the Living Soil that Ling Yun scattered in the sea was destroyed after being scorched by heavenly fire, and also why there was nothing unusual about the Jianmu fragment itself.

The resentment lingered, but heavenly fire was the nemesis of such dark energy. So when that resentment was scorched away, the Living Soil lost its regenerative properties and reverted back into ordinary soil, while Jianmu was purified and reborn.

“Shixiong, what’s wrong with the Living Soil?” Fang Yang couldn’t help but ask.

Feng Ye and Hao Chen both wore solemn expressions. There was no need for discussion between them, because they had already reached a tacit understanding.

But Fang Yang and Cao Zirui were still in the dark. They had failed to notice the brief upwelling of resentment, and had no idea of what was going on.

“It’s nothing.” Feng Ye didn’t offer up an explanation. He clapped his hands to brush off the dirt clinging to them and instructed: “Dig out all of this reddish-brown soil.”

“Ah? All of it?” Fang Yang was a little perplexed.

There was actually not a large amount of the Living Soil, and if they were to dig it all up, it would only amount to about ten or fifteen catties.

They didn’t actually need that much. Although Fang Yang didn’t know why his Useless Shixiong had come looking for the Living Soil, it had to be for the sake of cultivating some sort of spiritual plant. Even Jianmu, a towering tree that pierced the sky, only required a small amount of the soil.

Just digging up a small handful would be enough. Draining the pond to catch the fish wasn’t the right way to go about it. Just like Ling Yun hadn’t taken all the Living Soil for himself back then, they should leave some of this treasure for others to find.

Taking all of it was a little…..too greedy.

Fang Yang’s expression turned hesitant, and Cao Zirui shared the same view. He said: “Isn’t taking all of it a bit too much…..”

But Feng Ye’s decision was set in stone, and he repeated: “All of it.”

Cultivating ordinary plants in such resentment-steeped soil might not cause any problems, but if a plant or tree spirit were to form here and develop the seven emotions, it would inevitably be affected by the resentment just like Jianmu after it fused with Ling Yun’s heart.

Even if it lacked Jianmu’s ability to connect to the Emberless Horizon and the heavens, it was impossible to foresee what consequences might arise.

For this reason, Feng Ye had to destroy the Living Soil before the resentment within it could grow as powerful and destructive as that within the Emberless Horizon.

As for the method of destruction, hacking and slashing at it would do nothing. The only option was fire – heavenly fire.

But Feng Ye carried nothing to spark heavenly fire, and he wasn’t even responsible for starting that blaze one hundred years ago. That heavenly fire had ignited due to the intense heat created when the rapidly collapsing trunk of Jianmu chafed against the spiritual energy of the heavens like flint and stone.

Heavenly fire was not something that just anyone could ignite. Feng Ye couldn’t do it, and Hao Chen certainly couldn’t either. That fish was already half-dead from the dry air. If he tried to play with heavenly fire, which was thousands of degrees hotter than a normal flame, he would likely turn into a dried fish.

However, Feng Ye knew exactly who to go to for heavenly fire. He needed to take this Living Soil back to the heavenly realm. 

Despite Feng Ye standing by his decision, Fang Yang and Cao Zirui didn’t immediately obey. Hao Chen patted the two of them on the shoulder: “Listen to your shixiong. He has his reasons for doing this.”

It was true that his Useless Shixiong wasn’t a greedy person. Fang Yang wondered what secrets were hidden in the Living Soil, but his Useless Shixiong refused to reveal anything to him and Cao Zirui, leaving them in suspense.

Fang Yang let out a sigh, then picked up the hilt of his sword and began to dig.

Cao Zirui gave it some thought, and ultimately chose to trust Feng Ye. After all, this was the person who had saved him. Taking a cloth bag out of his storage pouch, he began to help Feng Ye collect the soil.

As the two boys got to work, Feng Ye was not idle himself. He picked up his scabbard and set to digging beside Fang Yang. 

Hao Chen stood to the side, waving his fan. Once again, he was the only one with nothing to do.

He would never be caught digging in the dirt. There was absolutely no way he would ever do such dirty, exhausting work, not even if you broke his legs.

He couldn’t use his fan to help from the sidelines. Hao Chen had already learned his lesson.

So…..what else could he do but stand around with nothing to do?

Hao Chen propped up his chin on the handle of his fan, deep in thought.

As he pondered, his gaze drifted to Feng Ye’s face. He noticed a smudge of dust there, and instinctively started to lean forward to wipe it off.

However, when his hand was only halfway there, Feng Ye turned his face with a frown. His gaze was piercing and vigilant, so sharp that the instant their eyes met, it felt like being pierced by a blade.

Hao Chen was momentarily stunned, but he realized something in that instant. 

This was how someone looked at an enemy.

And he saw the silhouette of that enemy in Feng Ye’s pupils – standing right behind him.

Hao Chen abruptly turned his head, looking up at the man who had appeared like a ghost at some unknown moment and now stood up in a tree, swaying along with the branches that shifted in the wind.

Ling Yun.

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Chapter 114 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 116