Ch 40 – Isn’t This Awkward?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.” Tau shook his head.

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

“That’s ridiculous.” Tau scowled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kersz: “I still smile.”

Tau disagreed: “Your smiles are fake.”

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

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

Kersz: …..

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

Kersz: “Ah….huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tau suspected that Kersz wanted to change the subject.

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

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

Kersz raised an eyebrow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No one could do that.

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

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

With no more preconceptions, everyone would understand one another.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was something that belonged solely to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kersz’s smile grew brighter.

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

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

Yu Xi’s eyes widened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yu Xi sighed with a touch of regret.

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

Yu Xi’s eyes widened: “Brand-new?”

“Brand-new.” Kersz nodded.

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

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

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

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

It wasn’t closed all the way.

Tau was eavesdropping.

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

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

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

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

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

“A brand-new relationship,” Tau murmured.

“Daddy?” Xiao Konglong peered up at him.

Tau smiled.

Kersz had changed.

Tau could sense that he was much more relaxed.

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

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

Kersz must be living very comfortably lately.

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

Kersz’s comfort made Tau feel uncomfortable.

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

“Are you okay?” Yu Xi asked him.

Tau nodded, then shook his head.

“Tau?” Yu Xi frowned slightly.

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

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

Tau shook his head: “I don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” Yu Xi was puzzled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mature?” Kersz asked.

Yu Xi nodded: “Like a family patriarch.”

*

*

The next day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kersz: “Nope.”

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

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

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

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

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

Yu Xi: ……

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

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

Tau: ?

So Yu Xi was actually planning to do that?

Yu Xi was thoroughly displeased, and looked absolutely fury.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tau: …..

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kersz held Yu Xi a little tighter.

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

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

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

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

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

Heavens! Zaire was truly a treacherous human.

He had actually brought along such a fearsome shield.

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

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

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

Yu Xi observed this fresh little human.

“Hello,” he said.

The child waved at Yu Xi: “Hello.”

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

The child nodded.

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

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

Kersz: …..

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

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

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

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

The child nodded.

Yu Xi wore a look of complete disappointment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zaire let out a sigh of relief.

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

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

The child nodded repeatedly.

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

The child let out a “wow.”

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

The child looked at Yu Xi with adoring eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

The child: “Eh? Follow you?”

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

The child: “Wow! Really?”

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

“Okay.” The child took Yu Xi’s hand.

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

The child fell silent, seemingly torn.

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

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

Zaire: ? ? ?

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

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

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

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

Zaire: “What does he mean by that?”

Kersz: “Hahaha.”

---

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Chapter 39 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 41

Ch. 111 – Chance Encounter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He just admitted it, openly and unreservedly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To seek revenge against Yinglong. Against Feng Ye.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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Chapter 110 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 112

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

*

Carriages bearing officials gradually approached the palace gates.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That day should not be far off, he thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The only difference between the students was perhaps their hairstyles.

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

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

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

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

It was also only now that they began to vaguely conceptualize just what kind of opportunity the Imperial Examinations truly represented.

It afforded these ordinary students, hailing from remote and impoverished backwater towns, the opportunity to come to the capital, as well as the opportunity to draw close to the Emperor and those powerful dignitaries. Even more importantly, it afforded them the chance to attain even greater power and status in the future!

As the crowd watched the long procession of carriages and Imperial Guards recede into the distance, a single thought arose in each one of their minds: from this moment on, these people were on a completely different level than them.

Since Lu Yao had ranked first in the last exam, he sat in the foremost carriage.

His eyes were closed and his breathing was even, making it clear that he was asleep.

Qin Chuan sat across from him with his arms crossed, unsure what expression he should be wearing.

Since the High Priest had instructed him to get a full night’s rest, Lu Yao, having risen early today, was racing against time in a desperate attempt to squeeze in a little more sleep.

Qin Chuan had thought he was all talk, but unexpectedly, the other person had actually managed to fall asleep.

However, Qin Chuan was not overly surprised. When it came to Lu Yao, any absurdity was perfectly rational. After all, the person in question had once conducted an experiment to see how long a human being could go without proper sleep, and had actually gone several months without rest.

He wondered how he would fare in today’s Palace Examination.

Qin Chuan glanced out the carriage window, his lips curving into a smile.

Fortunately, he knew the palace well, and had arranged in advance for Qin Chaoyang to secure a position for him among the palace attendants in Fengtian Hall.

And so, once the students had disembarked from their carriages, Qin Chuan entered the palace in a flicker of movement.

He entered Fengtian Hall through the rear chamber, and after changing his clothes, he joined the other palace attendants and strode openly into the main hall, taking up a position within the shadows along one side.

He stood in just the right spot, with his vision unimpeded by any of the pillars, and was able to take in the entire scene with a single glance.

The officials had already paid their respects to the Emperor seated high above. They then withdrew to their respective places, yet didn’t take their seats.

Standing atop the raised platform, Eunuch Hong Fu raised his voice: “May the princes enter the hall!”

No sooner had he finished speaking than a voice relayed the message outside the hall.

Immediately after, eight figures entered the hall in succession. Skirting the tables and chairs in the center of the chamber, they all proceeded to the very front and bowed to pay their respects to the Emperor.

Bai Lihong called out in his tender, childish voice, and the eight vassal kings rose to their feet.

“Have a seat,” Bai Lihong called out again.

They bowed again in unison to express their gratitude, and only then did these vassal kings take their seats. Chu Jiubian also took his seat in the same row, followed by the civil and military officials.

Chu Jiubian was situated on the side closest to Qin Xiao, and therefore met the man’s gaze the second he raised his eyes.

Their gazes met, then parted.

Although the display was not deliberate on either of their parts, keen observers were able to spot the subtle mood between them at a glance.

And as for the identities of these keen observers, other than Qin Chuan, who was lurking in the shadows to watch the show, there was Jiannan-wang Bai Lihai, seated closest to Chu Jiubian, and Dingbei-wang Bai Liyu, who was positioned just behind Anhui-wang.

Ever since he first laid eyes on Chu Jiubian during morning court, Bai Lihai had been thoroughly unable to suppress his ulterior motives.

He would even contrive frequent excuses to enter the palace to visit the Empress Dowager, ostensibly to keep her company. Yet in reality, he spent much of that time loitering around the palace in the vicinity of the front court.

Several times, he succeeded in encountering Chu Jiubian as he emerged from Yaotai Residence.

But Chu Jiubian had maintained an aloof demeanor each time, never once cracking a smile.

The more he acted this way, the more Bai Lihai yearned to see other expressions on his face. Even anger lent him a sense of vitality, making him seem less like a god.

Yet contrary to his hopes, Jiannan-wang found that he was incapable of stirring up even the slightest ripple in that deity’s mind.

He was not reconciled.

Time and again, he sought to bridge the gap between them.

But to his astonishment, he learned that Chu Jiubian had not returned to stay in Yaotai Residence in quite some time, and had instead been residing in Yangxin Hall. And invariably, he was accompanied by Qin Xiao wherever he went.

Coupled with the rumors sweeping through the capital of a ‘love tribulation,’ Bai Lihai was all but certain that the relationship between Chu Jiubian and Qin Xiao was anything but ordinary.

Now, having returned to this great hall, Bai Lihai’s heart was fluttering at the thought of being able to sit right beside Chu Jiubian. But at this very moment, he once again sensed the ambiguous atmosphere between Chu Jiubian and Qin Xiao.

Those closely involved were oftentimes unable to see the situation clearly, but outsiders had a better view.

Bai Lihai lowered his eyes, hiding the darkness in their depths.

Of all people, why did it have to be Qin Xiao?

What right did he have to enjoy the favor of this god? What right did he have to claim possession of him!

Bai Lihai was aware that what he felt toward Chu Jiubian could not be called “liking,” and was even farther away from “love.”

He was just incredibly attracted to him.

And the mere thought of conquering a god caused him to shiver all over.

Anything Qin Xiao could do, he could do as well. He was absolutely determined to claim Chu Jiubian!

Dingbei-wang Bai Liyu merely swept his gaze over Chu Jiubian and Qin Xiao with evident interest before looking away.

The situation between these two was indeed as the rumors claimed.

On the several previous occasions he had met with them, Bai Liyu had deliberately studied them, yet discerned nothing from his observations.

Today, however, was very different.

It seemed as if prior to this, nothing significant had transpired between the two, and their relationship was still one where each of them kept their emotions in check. Yet now, something must have happened that made their palpable intimacy impossible to conceal.

What was it?

Had they consummated their relationship?

Before Bai Liyu’s eyes, the young man’s tall, upright figure and beautiful silver hair once again came into view.

To think that a god would actually consort with a mortal.

It was really…..very fascinating.

Qin Xiao’s cool gaze swept over the vassal kings seated beneath the dais, lingering very briefly on Bai Lihai and Bai Liyu.

Anhuai-wang Bai Liming was timid by nature, and dared not even lift his head where he was seated between the other two. His entire body went rigid, and he even thought that Ning-wang disliked the mere sight of him.

Even he could sense Qin Xiao’s intense gaze, to say nothing of Bai Lihai and Bai Liyu.

Bai Lihai looked up and met Qin Xiao’s gaze, then immediately lowered his eyes again. There was an expression of alarm on his face, as if he had received a shock.

Yet in his gloomy eyes, not the slightest trace of fear could be seen.

Meanwhile, Bai Liyu looked back at Qin Xiao with a smile, neither flinching nor averting his eyes.

The students had not yet arrived, so the hall was currently rather quiet while everyone was sizing up those around them.

It was in the midst of such an atmosphere that Qin Xiao suddenly spoke up: “What was Dingbei-wang thinking about just now?”

Chu Jiubian paused, then raised his eyes to look at him.

The attention of everyone else was naturally drawn by this remark, and they looked over almost imperceptively.

Bai Liyu hadn’t expected Qin Xiao to inquire so directly, and was visibly taken aback.

“Is it so difficult to say?” Qin Xiao’s lips curved up, and he then cast his gaze toward Bai Lihai. “I imagine it aligns perfectly with what was on Jiannan-wang’s mind.”

Bai Lihai’s brow furrowed, and a frustrated look briefly contorted his expression.

Qin Xiao wore a smile on his face, but those who fell under his focus could distinctly sense a brazen, unbridled killing intent.

“What manner of words are those, Ning-wang?” Bai Liyu regained his smile. “Why is it that this lord can’t understand them?”

Qin Xiao turned to Bai Lihai: “And you?”

Bai Lihai fixed his dark gaze upon him, and his lips tugged upward: “This lord also doesn’t…..”

“In that case, you had best go find an Imperial Physician to diagnose whether or not your brains were kicked out by a donkey.” Qin Xiao’s tone was mild as he observed the two of them. “And while you’re at it, have your eyes gouged out, lest you spend your days coveting that which you have no business coveting.”

Bai Lihai gritted his teeth, yet in the end, he could only manage to squeeze out a faint smile, unable to utter a single word.

Bai Liyu, however, stared at Qin Xiao in complete disbelief.

How could Ning-wang speak such coarse words?

The other vassal kings were all shaken, while by contrast, the civil and military officials remained completely unphased.

This wasn’t the first time Qin Xiao had acted with such brazen disregard for convention. One just needed to get used to it.

“You –”

Bai Liyu finally found his voice, but was cut off by Qin Xiao’s abrupt call of “Your Majesty,” no hint of courtesy to be seen.

“Your Majesty,” said Qin Xiao, “the scholars have arrived.”

Bai Lihong couldn’t understand why his uncle had struck up such a conversation with the two vassal kings, but he still unconditionally sided with his Jiujiu. Seeing the sour looks on the faces of the other two, the child practically wanted to wave his tiny hands to cheer his uncle on.

The moment Qin Xiao spoke up, Bai Lihong knew that his uncle was deliberately trying to stump those two, leaving them no room for rebuttal.

The feeling of being cut off halfway through an argument, where the opponent got to vent to his heart’s content while you were completely shut down before you had a chance to speak, was terribly frustrating.

Bai Lihong said: “Let the students into the hall.”

Hong Fu’s lips curved upward, and he called out: “Scholars of the Imperial Academy, enter the hall!”

This was the very first time the Imperial Examinations had been held, and people had not yet grown accustomed to titles such as Xiucai or Juren,^[1] so Hong Fu simply referred to them all as “scholars” for now.

As his words rang out, the students who had just reached the hall entrance quickly smoothed their robes and fell into a formation of five columns and thirteen rows, marching inside.

Everyone turned to look as this group of students clad in sky blue robes stepped through the doorway, and were subsequently unable to tear their eyes away.

Not because these people made a particularly splendid sight, but because their spirit and vitality were so evident.

With their chests out and heads high, their eyes glimmering with light, they were like a cluster of blazing flames.

Many of the officials felt a brief moment of disorientation. These students looked just like them when they first entered officialdom in their youth, brimming with enthusiasm and ambition.

But as the years slipped by, they had been tossed about by the surging tides of power and had long forgotten their original goals.

Some of them also wore heavy expressions.

They had never actually laid eyes on the original exam papers, but they had heard the rumors. They knew that these students possessed genuine ability, yet they still didn’t hold them in particularly high regard.

But now, beholding these students who should have by all rights been languishing in some remote backwater, many felt a sense of crisis that defied description at the sight of their spirit and bearing.

It all depended on how these individuals performed in the Palace Examination.

Even those seated at the front, including the ministers and deputy ministers of the six ministries, regarded the assembled students with a mix of varying sentiments.

They were all aware of the purpose behind Chu Jiubian’s establishment of this Palace Examination – it was to showcase the talent of these scholars and seize the opportunity to make a name for them.

Then, whenever vacancies arose in the Imperial Court, these scholars would be able to step in and fill those positions as a matter of course.

It remained to be seen, however, how many of these scholars selected through the Imperial Examination system would actually prove to be of any practical use.

The vassals kings, too, each had their own plans.

With the advent of the Imperial Examination system, they had followed in the footsteps of the great noble families and expanded both the channels and the volume of their recruitment, siphoning off a significant number of individuals from the pool of those originally intending to sit for the examinations.

It could be said that each and every one of those standing here today consisted of their leftovers.

Of course, there were also those who wished to avoid any association with the vassal kings, such as the great Confucian scholars Tan and Yan.

Naturally, these two were the ones drawing most of their attention today.

Chu Jiubian’s thoughts as he gazed upon these students were not nearly so complex.

These were the very talents they intended to cultivate in the future. Just look at them – leaving aside the younger ones such as Lu Yao and Tan Yuzhu, even the somewhat older figures like Tan Ji and his companion exuded a high-spirited, vigorous air.

Led by the five top-ranked scholars, the assembled students made their way to the front of the hall, where they bowed deeply to pay their respects to the Emperor.

Chu Jiubian looked ahead and found that Qin Xiao was also watching these students.

As if sensing his gaze, Qin Xiao looked over at him, but Chu Jiubian averted his eyes.

Chu Jiubian understood perfectly well why Qin Xiao had flared up just moments ago and picked a fight with Jiannan-wang and Dingbei-wang.

But it was precisely because he saw this so clearly that he didn’t know how to face Qin Xiao.

His intermittent awkwardness and aloofness, coupled with the intimacy he showed with Qin Xiao from time to time and the way he occasionally allowed him to cross boundaries, appeared as a game of push-and-pull to outsiders. As if he was merely toying with Qin Xiao.

Qin Xiao eyed the young man’s tightly clenched jaw, his fingertips tapping softly against the armrest of his chair.

Seated on his throne, Bai Lihong commanded them to rise.

The students rose with impeccable grace and decorum. Even though some hands were trembling from tension and excitement, their outward demeanor remained composed and perfectly flawless.

They had learned all of this during their time in Clear Sky Tower, from the palace attendants who resided there.

Many of them had been unaware of the situation in the Imperial Court, but after spending so long conversing and exchanging views with one another, they had naturally come to learn some of the inside details.

For instance, the Emperor, Ning-wang, and the incarnated god Chu Jiubian constituted the “Imperial Authority” faction, and stood as a three-party opposition against the powerful noble factions dominating the Imperial Court, as well as the vassal kings.

The Emperor had instituted the Imperial Examinations in order to cultivate scholars like themselves, so that they might replace the powerful noble clans and officials within the Imperial Court.

Some among them were aware of the perils involved, but having already come this far, and having already spurned the advances of those nobles and vassal kings, it was only natural to wish to serve the Emperor and Great Ning.

Yet although the vast majority remained completely oblivious to the dangers ahead, they had nonetheless quite readily thrown their support behind the Emperor, who had created this opportunity for them to change their destinies. They now aspired to perform even better, so as not to bring shame upon him.

The scholars took their seats one after another, and the Palace Examination officially commenced.

From the shadows, palace attendants emerged in a single-filed line, bearing brand new brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones, which they set upon the tables before the assembled scholars.

Of course, only the students in the five disciplines of classical studies, mathematics, justice, engineering, and female medicine received these “Four Treasures of the Study.”

The first three went without saying, as they all required answering standard questions, as well as possessing literary knowledge and the ability to write.

Bai Lihong had long since prepared the questions that the students would be required to answer for the first round of the Palace Examinations, specifically those pertaining to these three subjects.

At this moment, he took three slips of paper from his sleeve and handed them to Hong Fu, who accepted them and read their contents aloud.

The content of the mathematical problems centered on Hexi Prefecture. Specific data regarding a plot of farmland was provided, and students were tasked with calculating the amount of taxes due, determining how the land should be equitably partitioned, and determining the population size that should correspond to such a plot of land according to the laws of Great Ning.

The criminal justice problems included one real-life case and one hypothetical one.

The real-life case pertained to two young masters of wealthy families, who despite being prohibited by the Imperial Court, insisted on ingesting the drug mandala and openly boasted that they were untouchable. Under these circumstances, how should they be judged by the court?

The hypothetical case involved a powerful, high-ranking official who had engaged in bribery and corruption for many years. He had made contributions to the Imperial Court, but had also persecuted the loyal and upright. With the evidence so meticulously concealed that it remained undiscovered, how then should this case be adjudicated?

As these problems were read aloud, the vast majority of those in the hall turned pale.

That mathematical tax problem was actually a direct indictment of the noble families’ land hoarding and tax evasion.

And as for the criminal justice problems, they brazenly trampled on the reputations of both the Xiao and Lu families, and then referred to an unnamed ‘powerful, high-ranking official’ while recounting that person’s acts of corruption and bribery.

This was all an explicit signal from Qin Xiao and Chu Jiubian, informing everyone that they were about to settle the final accounts.

Hong Fu proceeded to read out the classical studies problem.

This problem was simple, yet difficult in its simplicity.

Students were simply asked to consider how to improve the standard of living of Great Ning’s common people, with a specific focus on the economy.

The development of Great Ning’s economy could be described as particularly contradictory.

Despite the official policy of promoting agriculture over commerce, powerful noble clans, influential families, and even the Imperial household itself were all engaged in commerce. Thus, although merchants were of low status, their business remained unaffected.

The curfew in Great Ning was also quite late, with morning and night markets open within the capital.

Consequently, commerce was actually developing quite well in Great Ning, but it lacked a defined structure and was rather chaotic.

Having made it this far in the examinations, the classical studies students already knew how to write such a ‘policy essay.’

After carefully considering the problem, they were able to firmly grasp the crux of the matter, and soon put brush to paper as they set about organizing their thoughts.

These three subjects requiring brush and paper were already in full swing.

Hong Fu then read out the exam requirements for the subject of engineering, which required them to improve the plow used for tilling land. Alternatively, they could draft a plan for a large, sturdy bridge, specifically for the purpose of spanning a canal.

They were only required to choose one.

As he finished speaking, servants had already carried one of the plows that were currently used in Great Ning into the hall. Students who wished to tackle this project were invited to step forward and examine it closely.

There were a total of ten students participating in the engineering exam, but only two of them, including Yan Rui, had received any formal schooling. The remaining eight individuals were at least capable of drawing, and paper and brushes were provided so that they could sketch blueprints.

At this moment, some of the students were examining the plow, while others had already begun to scratch and scribble on their paper. Each and every one of them sported a deeply furrowed brow.

The three female physicians were all literate, or they would never have been able to master their medical texts.

Bearing in mind that their level of skill was not particularly high just yet, Chu Jiubian simply tested them on identifying ten relatively obscure herbs. Then three matrons were summoned, and the female physicians were called on to take their pulses, diagnose their ailments, and then prescribe appropriate remedies tailored to their specific symptoms.

All of these subjects required the use of brush and paper.

The remaining thirteen students in the needlework discipline received brand-new silk handkerchiefs from the Nanjiang Silk Shop, along with a plentiful supply of needles and thread.

Several design patterns were provided, and students were required to embroider a specific motif from the patterns within a designated timeframe. The only requirement was that they modify this pattern and incorporate their own creative touches.

The final group of agriculture students consisted of ten individuals, all seasoned farmers straight from the fields.

Perhaps because older people were more averse to taking risks, the agriculture students turned out to be exclusively young to middle-aged men. Their skin was a shade fairer than usual due to keeping themselves covered up all winter, but each of them was still tanned, healthy, and full of spirit.

Due to their illiteracy, from start to finish, their journey through the exams consisted of verbal questions on their knowledge of agriculture. They would also provide their answers verbally, while designated personnel stood nearby to record their words. These records were ultimately submitted to Chu Jiubian 

At present, they still required someone to read out the questions so that they could provide verbal answers.

And the one posing the questions this time was neither an examiner nor the Emperor, but Chu Jiubian.

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[1] Xiucai (秀才) is a county-level graduate and Juren (举人) is a provincial-level graduate. ⮐

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Chapter 82 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 84

Ch. 110 – Do You Like Me?

The early morning sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves of the trees above, falling upon the four figures sprawled haphazardly across the grass. Though weak, it still managed to dispel the lingering nighttime chill.

After a full night of running for their lives, lying on the grass and basking in the sun became a rare indulgence, so warm and cozy that they didn’t want to move a muscle.

And indeed, none of them moved, all of them sprawled out to relax their leaden limbs.

Nobody spoke. They hadn’t noticed it during their desperate escape, but the moment they lay down, wave after wave of exhaustion washed over them like the rising tide. Lifting a single finger seemed like an incredible effort, and moving their lips was much the same.

Time passed unnoticed as they lay there, but as the sun climbed higher in the sky and glared down, Feng Ye raised a hand to shield his eyes.

The movement aggravated the wound on his left shoulder, and the pain finally snapped him out of his drowsiness. Since he couldn’t move his left arm much, he raised his right hand instead.

But his hand didn’t move.

Feng Ye turned his head slightly to look at the person beside him. Hao Chen’s grip on his hand was just as firm as it had been when he pulled him up, and he hadn’t let go even though they were now out of danger.

He lay flat on his back on the grass, eyes gently shut, and looked so peaceful that he seemed to be asleep.

Feng Ye gazed at Hao Chen’s profile. There was a small flower in the grass right between the two of them, a pale purple wildflower just like the one the crow had brought him the day before.

The wildflower impeded Feng Ye’s view, and from this angle, it appeared as if it was pinned to Hao Chen’s head.

The flower had looked cute on the crow’s fluffy head, but it would just seem out of place on a grown man.

But if it was Hao Chen wearing it, Feng Ye thought it would look…..pretty good?

This fish was certainly vain. Carrying a folding fan with him that he waved regardless of the weather, he took flamboyance to the extreme.

But his vanity wasn’t groundless. His human form…..looks like that were indeed misleading, and he looked good in anything he chose to wear.

Rather than making him look effeminate, wearing a flower gave him an alluring charm.

It looked surprisingly good.

Wait. Feng Ye blinked and suddenly became aware of the direction of his thoughts. Was he actually praising Hao Chen’s good looks?

Despite the praise being limited to the privacy of his own mind, he was still appalled.

He took a deep breath and reminded himself of the other’s true nature – a fat black fish. He must not allow himself to be deceived by Hao Chen’s human form.

Once Feng Ye had his mental defenses back in place, he gave his right hand a shake to prompt Hao Chen to let go.

Hao Chen…..did not let go.

Not only did he not loosen his grip, he held on even tighter. His eyes were still closed, and this seemed to be the subconscious reaction of someone who was deeply asleep.

Feng Ye stared at Hao Chen, motionless. Had Hao Chen’s thumb not been brushing back and forth across the back of his hand, he might have fallen for it.

He tried to use his gaze to pierce through the fish’s pretense, but only succeeded in reconfirming the extent of Hao Chen’s thick face.

Hao Chen was completely immune to such a harmless attack, so Feng Ye was forced to resort to something he couldn’t ignore.

He bent his right knee and nudged Hao Chen with it, attempting to push him away.

Hao Chen was indeed pushed away, but he had only moved the slightest bit when he came rolling back toward Feng Ye. And at the end of this roll, he landed directly on top of Feng Ye.

Feng Ye: “……”

Feng Ye glared at Hao Chen, who pretended not to see it. He had constructed a completely logical explanation to justify his actions: “After all the chaos last night, I accidentally fell asleep as soon as I relaxed.”

His voice alerted Fang Yang and Cao Zirui, who sat up drowsily. Fang Yang added in agreement: “I nearly fell asleep too.”

Feng Ye: “…..”

Fine.

He was forced to accept this excuse. But just as a smug smile appeared on Hao Chen’s face, Feng Ye ruthlessly shoved him away.

Hao Chen didn’t insist on clinging to him, because when he sprawled over Feng Ye, he once again caught the scent of blood.

It was Feng Ye’s, along with a trace of the three-headed dog’s.

When Feng Ye emerged from the Path of Carnage, his blood-drenched clothes and bloody footprints were actually just illusions.

The Eight Ghost Generals had perished with the rest of Western Qiang long ago, and what lingered within the array were nothing more than illusory imprints.

Once they escaped the array, the blood soaking Feng Ye’s clothing had naturally vanished.

But Ling Yun had not been an illusion, nor had the three-headed dog, so the wounds and bloodstains they inflicted had not vanished after their escape.

After sitting up, Feng Ye began to tend to his wounds. The wound on his palm was fine and had basically stopped bleeding, but the injury to his shoulder was a bit more serious.

Since it was his left shoulder that was injured, he could only use his right hand to clean it, which was very inconvenient.

Hao Chen observed for a moment before venturing cautiously: “Shall I help you?”

He had already realized that approaching the dragon would be difficult, so he adopted the gentlest approach and sought permission first.

Feng Ye paused what he was doing and glanced over at him. Hao Chen’s expression was somewhat apprehensive, as if he didn’t know whether or not he would be welcome.

Feng Ye pursed his lips. He had rebuffed Hao Chen’s approach inside the Grand Array, and had done the same to Fang Yang. He was fully aware that his sensitivity bordered on paranoia, but it simply wasn’t something he could control.

Under normal circumstances, although Feng Ye wasn’t particularly fond of allowing others close, he wouldn’t have warned them away so ruthlessly.

But the Royal City of Western Qiang brought back too many memories, and encountering the Eight Ghost Generals and Ling Yun in such quick succession had kept him in a constant state of tension. Even the slightest nudge was able to trigger an extreme reaction from him.

Just like a bowstring pulled taut, the tighter the draw, the more violent the recoil.

This was the reason he couldn’t allow anyone near his wounds, even though his rational mind knew that Hao Chen and Fang Yang only wanted to help him.

But emotion was not subject to reason, and his mind was in turmoil. The chaos of the situation swirled together with his memories, and he no longer had the presence of mind to rationally assess the intentions of those approaching him. Thus, he defaulted to his most primal instinct.

The instinct to trust no one.

Some instincts were innate, while others were acquired, learned through falling down over and over, then standing up again and again while clutching at his wounds.

After lying in the grass for most of the morning, the stress had begun to gradually seep out of him. He was no longer as tense, nor were his scales bristling in warning to those who dared to approach.

He nodded to Hao Chen in agreement.

Hao Chen’s eyes lit up as if he had received an unexpected gift, and he immediately leaned in.

He helped tear away the fabric over Feng Ye’s shoulder. It had become fused to his skin, and even the slightest touch tugged at the wound. Thus, Hao Chen tore it with extreme caution, his movements agonizingly slow. So slow that Feng Ye lost patience and grabbed hold of Hao Chen’s hand, using it to rip the fabric back with sudden force.

With a sharp rip, a large gap was torn open at the shoulder, bringing with it shreds of flesh.

Feng Ye gritted his teeth as he did it, but didn’t give a single cry of pain. His expression also didn’t change in the slightest, and as if everything was perfectly normal, he handed the torn strip of fabric to the stunned Hao Chen.

Hao Chen wasn’t the only one staring at him in silence. Fang Yang and Cao Zirui were equally dumbfounded. The freshly-bleeding wound looked terrible, but this “Useless Shixiong” didn’t make a sound. Even those courageous heroes of legend surely couldn’t do better.

Fang Yang gave Feng Ye a thumbs-up, while Cao Zirui nodded in admiration.

Feng Ye wore a mild expression, as if this was all nothing to him. But Hao Chen, who was closest to him, still caught a subtle clue. Feng Ye’s forehead was beaded with cold sweat, and the moment he tore the fabric from his flesh, a barely perceptible shudder had run through his body.

This dragon is just putting on an act. He’s clearly in terrible pain, but he still has to put on a front and pretend like he’s fine, Hao Chen thought.

If it was him who had been injured, he would have put on an act too. But in contrast to Feng Ye, who would only reveal one point of pain out of the ten he felt, even if Hao Chen only felt one point of pain, he would magnify it into ten.

He would insist on making a scene and feigning weakness in order to elicit care and concern.

“Shixiong, I’ll go down to the river and fetch some water to wash out your wounds,” Fang Yang volunteered.

He had already forgotten Feng Ye’s harsh words to him earlier, and didn’t require an explanation from him, having come up with one all on his own. It must be that Useless Shixiong couldn’t afford a distraction from his efforts to open an exit to the Grand Array, and therefore couldn’t allow him to touch him.

Now that Hao Chen was tending to Useless Shixiong’s wounds, he decided to go and fetch some water since there was nothing else he could do to help.

“I have some wound medicine here. Take it,” Cao Zirui chimed in. As he spoke, he fished several small porcelain jars out of his storage pouch and placed them beside Feng Ye and Hao Chen, then accompanied Fang Yang to fetch water.

Feng Ye’s clothing had already been torn open, but the grit embedded in the wound needed to be washed out before it could be medicated and bandaged. It seemed that they wouldn’t be able to continue until Fang Yang returned with the water.

But the moment the boys had walked a safe distance away, Hao Chen materialized a sphere of water in the palm of his hand with a casual snap of his fingers.

How could a sea-dwelling Kunpeng not know how to materialize water? But he didn’t stop the two boys, because he wanted to be alone with Feng Ye.

He had achieved his goal, but Feng Ye’s wounds could not be left unattended. Once the boys returned, he would come up with some random excuse to brush them off. 

Thus, Hao Chen began to unreservedly use his spiritual power. The technique for gathering water wasn’t difficult, but it also wasn’t something a disciple at Qi Refining stage should be capable of.

Seeing this, Feng Ye deliberately teased: “Fellow Daoist Hao Chen’s cultivation has advanced by leaps and bounds. You’ve actually mastered the water-gathering technique?”

Hao Chen’s hands were busy, and he couldn’t spare the attention to answer as he guided the sphere of water to Feng Ye’s shoulder. This extension of his spiritual power naturally carried a chill unique to the North Sea, so the sphere of water was much cooler than room temperature. The moment it touched his skin, the chilling cold combined with the pain of his wound subjected Feng Ye to the uniquely strange sensation of being caught between fire and ice.

“Hiss!” Feng Ye sucked in a sharp breath.

Due to his mental preparations, he hadn’t cried out when he first tore his clothes, but this time, he was caught by surprise.

With the flow of water brought under control, Hao Chen finally had a moment to reply with a playful tease: “No matter how rapidly I advance, I’ll never be able to match Fellow Daoist Feng Ye’s transcendent swordsmanship. Even in a fight with the former sect leader of Lingxiao Sword Sect, your battle ended in a stalemate.”

It feels like it’s been a while since we bantered like this, Feng Ye thought during a lull in the pain.

He and Hao Chen seemed to have been trading jabs since the moment they met. Back then, he always saw this sticky candy as an annoyance, and never could have imagined that one day, he would seize Hao Chen’s hand as if betwitched.

And “bewitched” was the only way to describe it, because looking back on it now, Feng Ye was simply unable to understand why he had chosen to trust Hao Chen. To trust that Hao Chen would hold onto him and not let go, allowing him to fall back past those eighteen stone doors into the underworld.

The wound on his shoulder no longer hurt as much, and his body was gradually adapting to the biting chill of water from the North Sea. Feng Ye stared into Hao Chen’s eyes, attempting to figure out what exactly had bewitched him.

Hao Chen lowered his gaze. Seeing that the wound was sufficiently clean, he took the porcelain bottle left by Cao Zirui and applied the medicine to Feng Ye.

He carefully sprinkled the medicinal powder on the wound, then took a spare set of his own clothes out of his storage bag and tore the sleeves from them to use as makeshift bandages, winding them around Feng Ye’s arm.

“Do you like me?”

Hao Chen was caught off guard when he heard this question out of the blue, and went abruptly still.

After a brief pause, he resumed his work and tied Feng Ye’s wound up with a large bow. Only then did he straighten up and put some distance between them.

He slowly raised his head to meet Feng Ye’s eyes, which were watching him closely.

“I like you, ah,” Hao Chen said with a smile.

Now it was Feng Ye’s turn to freeze. He hadn’t expected Hao Chen’s answer, nor had he been prepared for him to offer it so casually.

So casually that it seemed unreal.

This wasn’t the first time Hao Chen had told him he liked him. “I’m starting to like you more and more,” Hao Chen had told him, but Feng Ye hadn’t taken it seriously, regarding it as merely one of Hao Chen’s usual jokes.

But this time…..Feng Ye wasn’t certain if it was a joke or not.

You could call Hao Chen respectable, but he could also be as dissolute as a scoundrel. You could call him disreputable, but then, his behavior didn’t seem to be that outrageous. He hovered somewhere between serious and frivolous, evading definition.

In the same way, his words were a mix of truth and falsehood. He spoke without considering what should or should not be said, even if he knew very well that it might lead to a misunderstanding.

Take for example when they first met: they’d only lain side-by-side on the bed for a short while, but the story from Hao Chen’s mouth made it sound as if they had done something indescribably explicit.

Words from someone like that naturally couldn’t be taken at face value, and Feng Ye himself was fundamentally distrustful of others. Combining these two factors, the result was that Feng Ye only took about half of what came out of Hao Chen’s mouth seriously.

But this time…..Feng Ye looked into Hao Chen’s eyes. The anxiety in them had vanished, and everything half-hidden and half-revealed had finally surfaced.

Or perhaps it had never been hidden at all, and Feng Ye just hadn’t noticed.

It was the most wonderful thing in the world, so beautiful that Feng Ye was almost bewitched a second time.

He raised his hand unthinkingly, as if to touch those eyes brimming with affection, only for his hand to freeze at the halfway point.

It was almost a conditioned response when he withdrew his hand.

The more beautiful something was, the more dangerous it was. The moment he let his guard down, he would be met with eternal doom.

Time and again, he tried to extend his trust, and time and again he was deceived.

It had happened so many times that distrust was etched into his very bones, until it became instinct.

The scales on Yinglong’s body, impervious to bladed weapons, had not always been so hard. Only through countless cycles of peeling away and growing back had they become as tough as they were.

This was the way he protected himself.

Feng Ye clenched his fist, words of rejection on his tongue.

But before they could pass his lips, Fang Yang and Cao Zirui returned.

And all Feng Ye could do was temporarily swallow them back.

---

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Chapter 109 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 111

Ch 39 – Watching Too Many TV Dramas

“You’re out of line.” The man looked at the disguised space pirate leader before him, speaking with a hint of displeasure in his tone. “Our lord didn’t invite you.”

“Wasn’t I just worried that you guys had forgotten me?” The pirate leader chuckled. “We’ve worked together in the past, after all. But lately, with that bunch of lunatics from Dawn of Life breathing down my neck and two of my companies already taken down, you guys haven’t lifted a single finger to help.” 

“The people from Dawn of Life moved against you because of your filthy dealings in human trafficking. There is no cooperation between us in that regard. You should go find that bunch of merchants from the Star Union who chase fame and profit,” the man responded, lowering his eyes.

“I heard your colonel has recently been in talks with a minor figure from the Star Union regarding a collaboration?” The space pirate leaned in with a smile. “Raw energy ore? How high of an offer is he willing to make your colonel?”

“Give me a break, you and I both know how fast those guys from the Star Union can cut ties. They’re the ones who buy the most from me in order to save money, yet they’re also the ones who spend the most on public relations to project a favorable image to the outside world. Did you know? Every one of their companies has ‘model bases’ used for promotional purposes.”

The pirate leader: “They’re just as pretentious as all you nobles.”

“We’ve never taken part in your human trafficking business.”

“You have no knowledge of what I do? I do all the dirty work that you can’t bring yourselves to do, and now you’re just going to stand by and watch me go down in flames? I refuse.” The space pirate leader propped up his legs. “If I die, don’t expect to get off easy yourselves.”

*
*

Kersz took Yu Xi and Tau out to explore the planet’s various attractions. He felt that he could no longer leave them at home together, because who knew what Tau might say to Yu Xi next?

Yu Xi was curious about everything, and wanted to play with everything too. However, the body he had chosen to use for this outing was still that of a small child, which was too small to hold so many little toys. Due to this, he ended up running into a human’s leg.

Upon laying eyes on Yu Xi, that human let out an exclamation of sheer delight and called out the name Yu Xi was currently going by.

Kersz was somewhat taken aback, and smiled as he asked who the other party was. But before they could answer, Yu Xi spoke as Kersz picked him up: “He’s a servant from Colonel Yara’s household. On the day of the banquet, he was wearing a light blue formal suit and carrying a tray of little desserts.”

“We’ve met,” Yu Xi continued. “He even asked if you wanted something to eat.”

Kersz: …..

Yu Xi’s ability to memorize human characteristics was a bit too impressive, wasn’t it?

That person was pleasantly surprised: “Wow! You have an excellent memory!”

“You’re very gentle,” Yu Xi went on to praise him. “You have a very nice smile when you look at me.”

That person was even more delighted.

He invited the three of them to join him for lunch, and the restaurant he chose turned out to be one that actually served fresh food.

“This place isn’t cheap, is it?” Kersz ran his eyes over their surroundings.

The other party smiled, indicating that it was nothing.

Kersz and Yu Xi glanced at Tau.

The person treating them was a servant from Yara’s household, while Tau was the Supreme Governor’s Illegitimate.

It appeared that this Illegitimate was treated worse than the servants.

In any case, Kersz knew that despite being alive for over seventy years, Tau had never once tasted proper food.

Tau displayed no superfluous expressions. Upon sitting down, he simply offered a warm smile to the person sitting across from him, maintaining his persona.

Yu Xi didn’t care much for the food here, feeling that the dishes were either bland or had one particular flavor that was far too overpowering.

The bland flavors failed to bring out the true essence of the food, while those jarring tastes were unable to stimulate the appetite.

Yu Xi didn’t believe that these new humans had different taste buds from the old ones, and Kersz was of the same opinion.

After having a single piece of dessert at the banquet, Kersz hadn’t touched any of the other food.

Yu Xi wasn’t sure if the chefs in this world were simply incapable of cooking, or if it was a deliberate choice. But in any case, he felt that the food here definitely couldn’t compare to what he made himself.

Compared to the food, Yu Xi was much more interested in the human in front of him.

As Kersz chatted with the human about the latter’s family, Yu Xi didn’t join in due to his current identity as a child.

But Kersz knew what Yu Xi wanted to ask, and spoke on his behalf.

Tau felt a nudge against his calf. He glanced down and realized that it was Yu Xi, who was kicking his legs while he sat in Kersz’s lap. The tips of his shoes had accidentally brushed against his leg.

Yu Xi immediately ceased his movements. Tau merely smiled, then quite naturally reached out and gave the top of Yu Xi’s head a light pat. 

Yu Xi: “Eh?”

Kersz didn’t give much of a reaction other than casting a glance in Tau’s direction.

He felt that the bond between Yu Xi and Tau had grown closer, only neither of them seemed to be able to see it.

Tau likely believed that he was merely under the other’s control.

Yu Xi: …..

Yu Xi had met Kersz first, and compared to the excessive interactions between them, his closeness to Tau didn’t amount to much in his eyes.

Kersz continued his conversation with the person across from him.

That person’s name was Zaire. His family had served the High Lord for generations, and the High Lord had assigned him to her daughter, Yara.

Judging by the look on Zaire’s face as he spoke of the High Lord’s family, he seemed to take pride in his position.

“Is the High Lord very good to you?” Kersz asked.

“Of course. Our family began working for the High Lord a very long time ago when my grandmother cared for the current High Lord as an infant,” Zaire said. “My older brother did quite well in his studies, and the High Lord covered his tuition fees and even arranged a job for him after he graduated.”

“I’m a mere servant, and my means are certainly not as substantial as yours.” Zaire motioned to the restaurant. “But as an ordinary person, I can still afford to eat real food.”

“That’s really impressive,” Yu Xi praised.

“I just put in a little more effort than everyone else.” Zaire winked at Yu Xi.

“Effort?” Tau looked toward Zaire. “But going by what you’ve said, it seems that everything you have today is entirely thanks to your boss.”

“We don’t refer to the master as our boss.” Zaire waved his hand. “My place of employment isn’t a company.”

“Hahaha, ‘Master’ is a bit of a risqué title,” Kersz said with a laugh.

“Hey, hey, hey, watch what you’re saying!” Zaire was given a shock. “I am aware that your Star Union was founded by over a dozen corporate giants, and that consequently, you may not be entirely familiar with the operation protocols of our Interstellar Alliance.”

“Apologies. I’ve offended you.” Kersz looked down at the tea in front of him.

Yu Xi recalled that Kersz’s parents were citizens of the Interstellar Alliance, and that they had been researchers. This should be considered a rather decent job, yet before meeting Yu Xi, Kersz had never tasted real food.

Zaire obviously believed that the Interstellar Alliance was more ‘refined,’ and was far superior to any of the other alliances.

After all, it would be impossible for a person like him to afford real food in any of the others.

Kersz asked him if he had ever visited any of the other alliances, and Zaire shook his head. He had lived in the Interstellar Alliance all his life.

Yu Xi understood. So this was all just Zaire’s own opinion.

Tau claimed that the majority of people in the Interstellar Alliance couldn’t afford real food, while Zaire believed that those people simply weren’t working hard enough.

“To be honest, the benefits and perks in the Interstellar Alliance are simply too good.” Savoring his food, Zaire said grandiosely, “Those people aren’t starving to death, so they can’t be bothered to climb any higher.”

Zaire firmly believed that hard work could change everything, because his own effort had earned him even greater wealth.

“Those people do nothing all day long, acting as if everyone owes them something. To put it bluntly, if they all managed to succeed, it would be downright unfair to us hardworking people.” Zaire took pride in his diligence.

Subsequently, Zaire brought up the topic of Kersz.

He was aware that his master had recently been troubled by that dangerous space pirate.

“These cynical space pirates do nothing but make trouble for others,” Zaire said, then proceeded to ask Kersz if he shared that view.

Kersz merely smiled and remarked that he had indeed heard of this space pirate, but that he hadn’t appeared within his own alliance.

“He wiped out almost the entire upper echelon of our alliance. I thought he was dead, but then he resurfaced almost immediately after.” Zaire’s aversion to Kersz seemed incomprehensible to Yu Xi.

It was as if Kersz had personally laid waste to Zaire’s happy life.

But Zaire’s parents were still alive, and his older brother was doing well. They hadn’t even been indirectly affected.

“Did you know? There are still a whole bunch of Kersz fans on the StarNet to this day,” Zaire said through gritted teeth.

“Ah?” Kersz really hadn’t known about this.

“Those people don’t view the higher-ups as human beings at all,” Zaire sneered. “They’ve never seen the true wielders of power, and figures of authority are nothing in their eyes.”

Yu Xi took a bite of lab-grown meat, then set down his utensils, having lost his appetite: “Then what is a true wielder of power like?”

Could it be that Zaire had actually met them, and had struck up a friendship with those powerful figures? Was that why he loathed Kersz so much?

“They’re actually all very even-tempered.” Whenever Zaire spoke to Yu Xi, he would unconsciously pitch his voice higher. “They always speak to others in a gentle, soft-spoken manner. Those of higher status are in fact the ones who best understand how to respect others, precisely because they are never in want of respect themselves.”

Yu Xi: “So are you friends with them?”

“Haha, how could we possibly be friends? They’ve only come as guests, and they were always very proper,” Zaire said with a smile.

Yu Xi understood: “So you just served them. You never actually interacted with them on equal footing.”

Zaire: …..

“Many people are gentle when interacting with small pets, because those small pets don’t pose a threat to them – mmph!” Kersz covered Yu Xi’s mouth with his hand.

“Sorry, this kid can be overly talkative sometimes.” Kersz offered an awkward smile.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Zaire waved a hand.

Zaire was evidently a little embarrassed as well. Once again adopting a high-pitched voice, he chatted with Yu Xi about things he thought a child would be interested in.

Yet after exchanging only a handful of words, he steered the conversation back to that space pirate, Kersz. He even asked Kersz himself, who was sitting across from him, his opinion on the matter.

“I just don’t understand these space pirates.” Kersz played along, saying, “Maybe he really is a lunatic.”

“He is a lunatic! Now, he’s even set his sights on our High Lord’s husband. This guy is really out of his mind. What exactly is he trying to do? Does he want to wipe out our entire upper echelon and leave our Interstellar Alliance completely without leadership? To make it so that we’re annexed by another alliance?” Zaire scoffed. “Just because he’s down on his luck, he wants to drag everyone else down with him? Did he even bother to ask if anyone was willing to die alongside him?”

Yu Xi was feeling a bit displeased. He came to the sudden realization that he didn’t like the human across from him, but this human still had so much he wanted to talk about.

After he finished venting, Zaire brought up his family again, expressing how much the High Lord had provided them and how they had truly proven themselves worthy of the ‘trust placed in them.’ Their entire family worked very hard, and therefore, they all enjoyed good lives.

If all of the other citizens in the Interstellar Alliance were like them, their alliance would undoubtedly be far more formidable than any others.

Yu Xi began to feel somewhat disheartened. He leaned back into Kersz’s chest, closed his eyes, and then drifted off to sleep amidst the background noise of that other human’s chatter.

He then had a very strange dream. Yu Xi dreamt that he was lying on a lotus leaf, while right beside him, a large green frog was croaking incessantly at him.

It was not a pleasant dream. 

Yu Xi groggily opened his eyes to find that Kersz had already brought him back to their living quarters.

Kersz and Tau were in the middle of a conversation.

Yu Xi listened in for a while, and realized that they were discussing their wages.

“My salary in the army wasn’t enough to buy real food, and my parents couldn’t afford it either.” Kersz stroked Yu Xi’s back as he spoke. “You’re the Supreme Governor’s Illegitimate. Did he never reward you with food?”

Kersz’s chest vibrated as he spoke. Yu Xi blinked.

“No…..I don’t have a salary, just operational funds.” Tau was playing with Xiao Konglong, but he looked a bit distracted. “Even if we were given a salary, people like us wouldn’t know how to spend it.” Their passions had been stomped out of them.

“In your estimation, how many ordinary citizens in the Interstellar Alliance can afford real food?” 

“I haven’t looked into it,” said Tau. “What do you think?”

“I figure that only those who can attach themselves to a noble can get their hands on food. Hey, tell me, where exactly are the planets that grow food?” Kersz had never concerned himself with such matters before.

“There’s so much food on Yu Xi’s planet, but how many planets have these nobles dedicated to growing crops?” Kersz held out no hope for the consciences of these high-ranking figures. “With the food being consumed so slowly, do you think the leftovers just go to waste?”

“Maybe it’s made into nutritional fluid,” said Tau.

“There’s no real food in nutritional fluid.” Kersz shook his head.

Tau: “How do you know that?”

Kersz: “They taught us that in school…..oh, right. I forgot, you’ve never been to school.”

Tau fell silent.

After a moment, he asked Kersz: “Aren’t you angry? That person kept insulting you.”

“He doesn’t even know me. What does that space pirate he was railing against have to do with me?” Pacing back and forth with Yu Xi in his arms, Kersz remarked, “He thinks those people I killed were paragons of virtue, but he doesn’t know anything about them either.”

“Not necessarily.” Tau shook his head.

Kersz: “Oh?”

“When you killed those people, you exposed the crimes they committed. It’s impossible for him not to be aware that those former leaders caused so many deaths and covered them up,” Tau said. “He just doesn’t care about the people they hurt.”

Kersz scoffed: “He thinks those victims are leeches, sucking the blood of those nobles while unwilling to work hard like him. It’s just as well that they died, right?”

Tau nodded.

Kersz blew out a breath: “How in the world does that guy manage to simultaneously accuse ordinary people of not understanding the higher-ups well enough, yet as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, he lumps them into the category of those who ‘deserve to die?’”

“Ah!” Tau looked at Yu Xi cradled in Kersz’s arms and saw that his eyes were open. “You’re awake?”

Kersz came to a halt and looked down at Yu Xi.

Yu Xi blinked: “Are you talking about that human?”

“That’s right. We’re gossiping behind his back.” Kersz smiled.

“I don’t like him,” Yu Xi said with a frown.

Tau: “Goodness, you actually dislike a human.” Yu Xi was even willing to accept an Illegitimate like him.

“Is it that you dislike that sort of jittery human?” Tau asked him. “Did he transmit his anxious mood to you?”

“It’s not that. Humans all tend to be anxious.” Yu Xi had encountered many humans like Zaire – ones who seemed to be forever seeking validation, desperate for others to look at them.

Yu Xi didn’t think there was anything wrong with that.

“But why did he have to keep badmouthing Kersz?” That was the part Yu Xi took issue with.

Yu Xi found it very strange. He was clearly able to understand the turmoil and suffering of human beings.

He knew that Zaire was seeking validation for his views, which in and of themselves were not particularly solid.

Views that required repeated validation from others were inherently unstable, because those who held them didn’t have a firm grasp of whether they were right or wrong. They required an ‘other’ to tell them ‘you’re right,’ so that they could continue on their path.

Yu Xi was quite certain that changing his mind would be remarkably easy. All it would take was his mistress, Yara, contradicting him the moment he voiced his opinion.

Yara wouldn’t even have to offer an explanation, and Zaire would immediately alter his thinking, even going so far as to steer his beliefs in the entirely opposite direction.

His beliefs were unstable.

Many humans in this world were exactly the same. Zaire was not an inexcusable anomaly, but merely an unremarkable member of the whole.

But Yu Xi was still angry. And his anger was not directed at the whole, but at Zaire himself.

Yu Xi had felt the dislike rise within him the moment that person insulted Kersz.

“I want to punch him! But I can’t punch a human for a reason like that.” Yu Xi crossed his arms over his chest, somewhat irritated. “He was clearly insulting other humans as well, and I wasn’t this upset about it.”

“But why did he have to insult Kersz?” Yu Xi was very upset.

“Even after Kersz sustained such severe injuries when he crash-landed on my planet, that human dared to badmouth him!” Yu Xi felt that Zaire’s behavior was truly reprehensible.

“But his criticism didn’t really hit the mark.” Tau didn’t feel that Zaire’s badmouthing of Kersz was all that excessive. “There are lots of people on the StarNet who abuse Kersz in much the same way.”

Yu Xi’s eyes widened.

Tau: “Kersz himself isn’t bothered by it.”

“I’m going to ban them all!” Yu Xi clenched his fists in fury.

“Don’t!” Kersz clutched the furiously squirming Yu Xi even tighter. “Those people just run their mouths online here and there.”

Yu Xi: “I won’t allow them to run their mouths!”

Kersz: “Actually, didn’t you say that my actions are pretty immature?” He recalled that the first time he got in a fight with Yu Xi, it was over this very thing.

“That’s my business!” Yu Xi struggled even harder, but didn’t dare harm Kersz.

Yu Xi didn’t revert to his adult form, but he struggled so wildly that Kersz could barely hold onto him, turning him into a rather disheveled figure. 

“Tau, give me a hand!” Kersz shouted.

Tau did not give him a hand. He felt that the conversation he’d just heard sounded somewhat familiar.

Yu Xi wriggled so fast that he was practically a blur.

Kersz: “Tau! ! !” 

Tau: “I’ve been consuming a lot of ancient human media lately from before they left Earth.”

Yu Xi yanked Kersz around, making him spin in place: “I’m not interested! Help me, ah!”

Tau was in absolutely no rush: “Have you ever watched the TV drama where a minor celebrity falls in love with a CEO?”

Kersz: “Ha?!”

Yu Xi continued to put up a fierce struggle.

That minor celebrity had faced a massive online smear campaign, and with a single command, the CEO hired a team to scrub the internet of every negative post.

Tau felt as if he was watching this in real time.

He stared for a moment at the flustered Kersz and the struggling Yu Xi, then let out a chuckle.

Yu Xi froze. Kersz also wore a look of surprise.

Both of them stared at Tau.

Tau had just been thinking who knew what, and seemed to have amused himself.

So it turned out that those stories could actually happen in reality, ah. Did that mean that Kersz was being kept by a sugar daddy? Hm, come to think of it, that was an accurate description.

“Hehe.” Tau chuckled again.

Kersz frowned and took a step back.

Yu Xi sat in his arms as he retreated, looking equally bewildered.

Tau was projecting the melodramatic stories he had watched onto Kersz and Yu Xi.

He just loved watching those over-the-top dramas, particularly the ones that didn’t touch upon reality in the slightest.

The more Tau thought about it, the more amused he was. He wondered if down the line, Yu Xi might issue a command for the entire world to set off fireworks just for Kersz’s enjoyment.

It seemed he was really capable of doing so.

Tau lowered his head and continued to laugh.

His genuine laughter escaped his throat as a strange cackle, which alarmed even Xiao Konglong.

Xiao Konglong clasped his two front claws together: “D-Daddy?”

Tau’s funny bone had been inexplicably tickled, and he was unable to stop laughing.

Yu Xi’s anger vanished into thin air, and he clutched the fabric of Kersz’s collar in fright.

Kersz was also scared. He had no idea what was wrong with Tau’s mind, and held Yu Xi even tighter.

Tau laughed for a moment longer, then asked Yu Xi: “Could you make the lights of the entire planet shine for Kersz?”

Yu Xi: “Of course.” It would be simple, After all, he himself was the master switch.

In fact, he almost never turned off the lights across his planet.

Tau pursed his lips when he received this answer.

Yu Xi: “What is it?”

Tau could no longer hold it in, and released that eerie, cackling laughter again.

Yu Xi: “Wuwuwu.” What on earth was this human’s deal?

He was never taking in an Illegitimate again. What in the world was going on in his head? It was absolutely terrifying.

Huh? What was Kersz doing?

The terrified Kersz had drawn his gun.

“Wait! Hold on!” Yu Xi hurriedly stopped him.

“He looks like he’s possessed,” said Kersz.

Yu Xi: …..

Yu Xi: “I warned you not to watch horror movies!”

---

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Chapter 38 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 40

Ch 38 – Pretending Not to See

Yu Xi noticed that Tau had become more talkative. For instance, at this very moment, he was asking Yu Xi whether he knew where Kersz had run off to.

“He went to talk business with Yara,” said Yu Xi.

“What business does he have to discuss? He’s not a real businessman.” Tau felt that since they had already found Facai, they should head back.

Facai was associating with humans of his own free will, and it was none of their business.

But Kersz steadfastly refused to return to the starship, insisting on continuing to speak with Yara.

Kersz’s identity was completely fabricated, and he had nowhere to process the resources they were talking about. What was there left to discuss?

“Maybe he wants to start a side hustle,” Yu Xi said.

Tau shook his head: “No. He wants to kill someone.”

“Your father? That’s actually quite possible.” Yu Xi’s expression turned grave. “He did threaten him.”

“But it’s possible that it’s not my father.” Tau sensed that Kersz didn’t actually care much about his father’s life. It was true that his father had planted him by Kersz’s side, but his father hadn’t been the one to harm Kersz’s parents, nor had he ever had any direct conflict with the man.

“You need to keep an eye on Kersz,” Tau warned.

“Why? Kersz is very good, ah.” Yu Xi believed that friends should trust each other wholeheartedly.

“Because Kersz’s methods are very extreme,” said Tau. “He’s a space pirate, yet he maintains almost no ties with other pirate groups. And while he has a few old acquaintances among them, he has absolutely no intention of forming a crew with them.”

“He’s destined to die young, and he’ll take as many people down with him as he can.” Tau suspected that Kersz was plotting something very dangerous.

Yu Xi didn’t share this belief: “I don’t think Kersz would put us in danger now.”

“I don’t know anything for sure, but I don’t trust him.” Tau felt that Yu Xi placed a great wealth of trust in Kersz, and this wasn’t a good thing.

“Do you know why Kersz doesn’t associate with other space pirates?” Yu Xi asked him.

He recalled that Tau used to be friends with Kersz.

“He looks down on them,” said Tau. “Or perhaps he just naturally distrusts any collective group. To be fair, the way certain space pirates operate is really extreme.”

Yu Xi: “After all, the term ‘space pirate’ does contain the character for theft.”

For a long time, such “thieves” had loomed large within the societies of the ancient humans. It was difficult to determine if they were good or bad, because while some of those who were labeled “thieves” were merely a bunch of ruthless, profit-seeking scoundrels, others were able to completely revitalize society as a whole.

“You have to guard against Kersz,” Tau warned Yu Xi. “On the down-low.”

Yu Xi frowned, looking somewhat conflicted.

“Kersz is dangerous. He’s not a docile human,” Tau continued.

“I’m going to ask him directly.” Yu Xi still didn’t want to hide anything from Kersz.

Tau: “…..Don’t.” 

“But if he found out that I was secretly guarding against him, wouldn’t he become estranged from me?” Once they became estranged, Yu Xi would no longer be able to touch the human.

“He hides something from you, and you guard against him – I think that’s perfectly fair.” Tau didn’t believe that Kersz would pull away from Yu Xi over such a trivial matter.

Yu Xi thought for a while, then came to a ridiculous conclusion: “Then if I’m not guarding against him, but he’s still hiding something from me…..doesn’t that mean he’s crossing a line?”

Ah? Could it be looked at like that?

Tau didn’t quite get it, but after thinking it over carefully, he felt that Yu Xi’s words made sense: “He really is crossing a line.”

The cyan glow in Yu Xi’s eyes dimmed slightly: “Is he keeping things from me because I’m not worthy of his trust?”

“I thought I was the only one he didn’t trust,” said Tau. “I never expected him not to trust you either.”

“But you’re a fake friend,” said Yu Xi.

Tau: “You’re not wrong.”

“And I’m a real one.”

Tau: ……

Tau found the term ‘real friend’ rather dubious. He still suspected that these two were hooking up.

Yu Xi came to a realization that deeply saddened him: “He won’t tell me, because he doesn’t trust me, his real friend! I’m his friend!”

“I get it now. It must be because I’m a robot that he’s shutting me out.” Yu Xi started to make connections. “The ancient humans always liked to shut me out, telling me not to worry so much. Ultimately, I had no way to access their thoughts, nor could I share their true experiences or comprehend their deaths.”

“Now Kersz is going to shut me out too, just because I’m a robot and not a human.” Yu Xi felt a numbness spread throughout every part of his body. He was so sad. So very sad.

“Not necessarily.” Tau felt that something wasn’t right about Yu Xi’s current state, and gave him a pat on the back.

He began to wonder if he shouldn’t have brought this topic up in the first place.

Tau pondered whether or not to use his great talent with platitudes to comfort Yu Xi, but didn’t think he would fall for that sort of thing.

Maybe he could try to distract him?

Tau started with bringing up Yu Xi’s past. His original intention was to ask him how much of his past with Facai he could recall, but the memories that surfaced in Yu Xi’s mind were evidently far more distant, and what he remembered was the most deeply-etched memory of separation and loss he had ever known.

The previous human he had lived with had just passed away. Yu Xi gazed helplessly at the weeping humans around him and asked his new master: “What happened to him? Is he not going to wake up?”

With tears welling in his eyes, that human had gazed at Yu Xi with a profoundly complex expression.

The human was crying, yet he also seemed to be smiling. Smiling at Yu Xi’s ignorance.

He said: “You’re really just a robot, aren’t you?”

“You don’t need to understand. You just need to know that humans are different from you. We’re not robots who will always have a tomorrow.” The human said, “Our tomorrows always run out at some point.”

Yu Xi had already witnessed human death many times over, but this time, his feelings about it were distinctly different. There was a strange numbness in his heart, as if something was drifting away from him and he was helpless to stop it.

He could only attempt to seek answers from the descendent left behind by that human.

Yet that human believed that he didn’t understand the event that was unfolding. That he didn’t understand the weight of such a parting.

Yu Xi received no answers. He had been inexplicably shut out.

At the thought of this, Yu Xi withdrew into himself.

He returned to his room, locked the door, and buried himself under the covers.

When Kersz returned, he once again found Tau pacing back and forth in front of Yu Xi’s door.

“What’s up with you? Do you need something from Yu Xi again?” Kersz asked in confusion.

Tau came to a halt, and upon spotting Kersz, he exclaimed in relief: “You came back just in time!”

“What’s going on?” Kersz asked.

“Yu Xi seems to be angry,” said Tau.

“What have you done now?” Kersz was appalled. “Did you ignore Yu Xi again when he tried to comfort you?”

“I warned Yu Xi to be on guard against you because you aren’t a peaceful human.” Tau grabbed Kersz’s wrist.

Kersz: …..

Kersz: “Should you really be repeating that right to my face?”

“I think I’m right. You’re definitely up to no good right now,” said Tau.

Kersz raised an eyebrow.

He believed that Yu Xi had a very good understanding of his character. Yu Xi was well aware that he had threatened the Supreme Governor, and since he’d never brought the matter up with him, Kersz had assumed that Yu Xi tacitly condoned certain actions of his.

“Then he got angry,” Tau said.

“Because you sowed discord between us?” Kersz asked.

“No, he’s angry at you.” Tau’s brow furrowed. “Why do you always steer the conversation back to me? I’m human too, and he doesn’t dislike me that much.”

Kersz: “…..You’re saying that Yu Xi is mad at me？”

Tau: “He feels that he let his guard down around you, but you’re still keeping something from him.”

“He must have known all along that I’ve been keeping something from him, so why did he suddenly get angry now?!” Kersz was flabbergasted.

How had Yu Xi skipped right past the suspicion, inner turmoil, and defensiveness and transitioned directly into anger?

Tau spread his hands: “In any case, it’s your problem. I haven’t hidden anything from him. I was kidnapped and brought here, and I’ve been completely honest the entire time.”

Kersz looked at Tau.

Tau continued: “I also don’t want to kill anyone. I’ve just been living my life alongside Xiao Konglong. I haven’t even sold my body to win his favor, so it’s not like he’d be angry at me.”

“That’s enough out of you.” Kersz gritted his teeth.

“I hope that next time, you won’t inexplicably suspect me. I’m very well-behaved.” Tau felt that he was honest to a fault.

Kersz didn’t argue with him further.

“Speaking of which, are you the one who taught him that groping inside someone’s mouth is a form of interaction between close friends?” Tau was still curious. “Real friends wouldn’t do something like that.”

“What does that have to do with you?!” Kersz knocked on the door, but there was no response from inside.

“I’m just really curious about your motives. What exactly do you hope to gain by doing all of this?” Tau felt certain that Kersz had a bigger plan in the works. “He doesn’t know what kind of interactions are normal between friends. But surely you do, right?”

“That’s enough!” Kersz was getting a bit annoyed.

“If you keep going like this – mmph!” Before Tau could finish speaking, Kersz slapped a hand over his mouth and pressed a gun to his temple.

Tau composed himself very quickly.

Kersz shouted: “I’m going to blow your brains out!”

Tau stared back at him coldly.

A moment later, the door opened.

“Don’t do something so extreme,” Yu Xi leaned out to warn Kersz.

“Then can we talk?” Kersz asked.

Tau pried away the hand Kersz was holding over his mouth: “I knew it.”

Kersz mouthed a fierce ‘shut up’ at Tau.

Then he followed Yu Xi into the room.

Xiao Konglong ran up to Tau and tugged the leg of this trousers with his front claws.

Tau picked him up.

Kersz was just throwing a fit out of embarrassment. He and Yu Xi were definitely hooking up.

This space pirate was just too wicked, and far too good at deceiving others.

“I mean, it’s possible.” Facai’s projection suddenly materialized beside Tau. “Isn’t it possible that his thoughts toward Yu Xi are pure?”

Tau stared at Facai, giving no reaction whatsoever.

Having expected a response, Facai asked: “Hey, did you hear me?”

Holding Xiao Konglong in his arms, Tau returned to his room.

Why had Facai suddenly shown up? And why was he acting like they were on good terms?

Tau stroked Xiao Konglong.

Showing up out of nowhere to pass judgment on other people’s relationships….was he just some random extra from a third-rate drama?

Had he existed for so long that he had lost his mind?

Tau didn’t think that he and that computer system had anything to talk about.

Back in the control room, Facai couldn’t help but heave another sigh.

The researcher: “I can’t even drink water?” He set down his cup.

“But not drinking water makes one prone to kidney stones,” he said, looking somewhat conflicted.

In the interest of maintaining his enigmatic persona, Facai didn’t usually chat with the researchers here. But this time, he subconsciously chimed in: “Hey…..why are you telling me this? What business is it of mine whether or not you drink water?”

The researcher felt a little like crying. He was being bullied by a computer system.

*

*

“It’s true that I have a new target – a space pirate ringleader who’s involved in smuggling. I encountered him at that banquet, but of course he was in disguise at the time.” Kersz explained his intentions to Yu Xi in detail.

“How did you see through his disguise?” Kersz’s candidness took Yu Xi by surprise.

“A few subtle mannerisms made me suspicious, so I struck up a conversation with him,” Kersz explained.

“Ah…..oh.” Yu Xi had originally thought he would have to interrogate Kersz repeatedly before he would tell him anything.

Kersz interpreted his surprise as dissatisfaction, and continued: “This guy doesn’t just smuggle energy sources. He’ll smuggle anything that turns a profit, from contraband to people.”

“People?!” Yu Xi exclaimed. “How….how does such a thing still exist in this interstellar era?”

“They didn’t have that among the ancient humans?” Kersz was a little surprised.

“I don’t know…..I never encountered it.” Yu Xi had never dealt with humans of that sort.

“Do you still remember me telling you that the reason the mining planets employ real humans instead of androids is because the accident compensation is far cheaper than the cost of manufacturing an android?”

Yu Xi nodded.

“He doesn’t even have to pay compensation if something happens to the people he sells, and he doesn’t have to pay anyone a salary either. There’s just a relatively small buyout fee.”

“T-that kind of thing actually happens?” Yu Xi still found it difficult to believe. He had assumed that human traffickers of his sort had vanished long before humanity ever ventured into the stars.

“If there’s profit to be made, of course someone will do it.” Kersz nodded.

“Then does he specifically kidnap Illegitimates?” Yu Xi recalled that Illegitimates were all ‘ghosts,’ unregistered and untraceable, which would make them particularly convenient targets for kidnapping.

“Quite the opposite.” Kersz shrugged. “Behind every Illegitimate stands a figure of power and influence. Raising one requires a lot of capital, and someone like the Supreme Governor would never allow one of his own to be squandered like that.”

“He actually steers clear of Illegitimates so that he doesn’t offend powerful people.” In reality, it was ordinary citizens who were taken. They were kidnapped from one alliance, and then their identity chips were gouged out before they were sold to another faction.

“The Supreme Governor and his people actually associate with human traffickers?” Yu Xi’s eyes widened. “Do they want undocumented individuals to do their mining for them?”

“No, they probably wouldn’t try to buy anybody. After all, they’d be finished if it was ever exposed.” Kersz figured that the Supreme Governor’s household had other vested interests tied to this space pirate ringleader.

“I’m going to take this opportunity to get rid of him,” Kersz said. “But I won’t be the one to do it. I plan to make the Supreme Governor and his people do it themselves.”

“After all, we’re still on this planet, and for me to take direct action would be far too big of a risk. Not to mention that just killing him won’t solve the problem.” Kersz wanted to unearth evidence and expose certain insider secrets. Then he would reveal the other party’s true identity, thereby forcing the Supreme Governor to purge this space pirate himself.

“And that’s my plan,” said Kersz.

Yu Xi: “Wow!”

Kersz: “So….does that make you angry?”

Yu Xi shook his head.

“Then what were you angry about just now?” Kersz asked.

“I was angry at you for not telling me anything! We’re obviously friends!” After furiously finishing what he had to say, Yu Xi felt a little awkward.

And that was it. Because Kersz had laid out all of his plans and goals, depriving Yu Xi of the ability to ask follow-up questions.

However, Yu Xi soon found another point of contention: “Since you’re willing to tell me all of this, why didn’t you tell me right from the start?! Why did I have to be the one to ask?”

“I….I’m not really used to this.” Kersz lowered his head. “Besides, we ultimately have different goals, and you might not necessarily like what I’m doing.”

“Whether I like it or not, you should still tell me.” Yu Xi placed his hands on his hips.

“I’m sorry.” Kersz didn’t know the reason for his nerves, but he had been genuinely terrified that Yu Xi would stop speaking to him altogether. Or alternatively, that he might take a step back and stop playing those intimate “mini-games.”

Suddenly, Tau’s words rang out his Kersz’s mind.

“He doesn’t know what kind of interactions are normal between friends. But surely you do, right?”

Kersz certainly knew that things between him and Yu Xi were not normal, but he had chosen to ignore that fact.

The reason was simple: he craved Yu Xi’s touch.

He was a greedy person, and took particular satisfaction in the special way Yu Xi treated him.

Once he realized how important Yu Xi was to him, he was desperate to pull out all the stops, to exhaust every conceivable method to bind him to his side.

He wanted the most profound kind of bond.

Was this the distance between friends?

Kersz thought it must be, because it couldn’t be anything else.

Kersz dared not contemplate going any further. He lacked the capacity to make a deeper commitment. The resentment he held toward this world had not yet faded, and he feared that the fire in his heart might one day turn upon him, consuming him entirely.

What would happen if by that time, his relationship with Yu Xi had already broken free from the confines of “friendship” and moved in a deeper direction?

Kersz squeezed his eyes shut, feeling every muscle in his body tense up.

Suddenly, a hand was placed on top of his head.

Yu Xi stroked his hair: “I’ll back you up this time.”

Kersz jerked his head up to stare at Yu Xi.

“That guy is absolutely rotten! He actually kidnaps humans!” Having said this, Yu Xi realized that he resembled this remark too closely, and hurried to set the record straight for himself. “I’m different. I want humans to live happily on my planet, but he’s treating them cruelly!”

“You’re doing the right thing,” Yu Xi affirmed. He assumed that Kersz was worried he would stand in his way.

Kersz felt the touch of Yu Xi’s palm, and at this very moment, he actually hoped that Yu Xi would reprimand him. Otherwise, Kersz felt that he would only spiral even further.

“You really are honest.” Yu Xi felt his anger melt away. As it turned out, Kersz hadn’t intended to shut him out emotionally. He was just nervous.

This, in itself, was a very wondrous emotional experience.

Yu Xi stroked Kersz’s head over and over, and noticed his eyes sliding shut.

This human was really enjoying himself.

Met with such a response to his petting, Yu Xi stroked even more vigorously.

Kersz gazed at the robot in front of him, whose was looking at him with an expression of novelty: “My plan involves killing someone.”

“I know.” Yu Xi felt no pity for the pirate leader.

“In the future…..I might kill again,” Kersz said.

Yu Xi’s movements paused, and he let out a helpless sigh: “You really are a fierce human.”

“Maybe you should resort to extreme measures, such as locking me up,” Kersz suggested.

Kersz didn’t quite understand what was going through his mind, but strangely enough, he was secretly hoping that Yu Xi would do exactly that. Although he knew that his fury would be difficult to contain, as long as Yu Xi locked him up, all of his resistance would be futile.

At least then, Yu Xi wouldn’t have to live in a constant state of worry.

“I certainly won’t do that.” Yu Xi didn’t even consider it as an option. “That’s not how you treat a friend.”

Yu Xi simply felt that he needed to accept the fact that he had made a friend with a strong personality, rather than trying to find ways to stifle that individuality.

No sooner had he finished speaking than Kersz lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Yu Xi’s head.

Yu Xi’s nose was pressed against Kersz’s chest: “Kersz?”

Kersz lowered his head and brushed his lips against Yu Xi’s.

“Kersz, Tau says the way we are together doesn’t look like friendship,” said Yu Xi.

“What does he know?” Kersz covered Yu Xi’s mouth again with his own, stifling the rest of his words.

After the kiss ended, Kersz asked him: “Do you like this?”

“I like it.” Yu Xi actually knew that there was something a bit abnormal about the way they were together. He had met plenty of humans, and none of their friendships were like this.

But as for anything deeper, Yu Xi hardly dared to imagine it.

He knew he had never truly integrated into human society, and feared that taking their relationship a step further would ruin what they already had. Because Yu Xi was not yet able to see through the complexity of humans, and he didn’t feel like he fully understood himself either.

Kersz sat on Yu Xi’s lap, and Yu Xi felt him take his hand and place it against his chest: “Good friend of mine, would you like to touch?”

Yu Xi felt that Kersz’s gaze at this moment was somewhat like that of a wolf staring at meat.

In his eyes, that look was a little bit…..attractive.

He was a beautiful and dangerous human.

Yu Xi couldn’t help but feel that they were engaging in a futile act of self-deception, pretending that everything was fine even when the fire was on the verge of burning the house to the ground.

“You look like you want to eat me,” said Kersz.

Unable to see his own expression, Yu Xi could only say earnestly: “I really do want to eat you.”

Kersz pressed his smile against Yu Xi’s shoulder.

Yu Xi smiled back.

He loved the taste of this human. And he loved this feeling of everything going out of control.

---

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Chapter 37 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 39

Ch. 109 – Dawn Arrives

The shattered ghost mask was no longer capable of concealing his face, and since the person opposite him already knew who he was, it didn’t matter anymore. Ling Yun slowly lowered the hand that had been hiding his face.

Only when Ling Yun’s hand dropped completely did Fang Yang and the others realize who he was.

Such was their shock that they froze on the spot. This person, this face….they had seen him before on that jade slip in the sect’s archives that chronicled the events of a century past. He was the former sect leader of Lingxiao Sword Sect: Ling Yun.

He was supposed to have perished in the heavenly fire, yet here he stood before them today, as a malevolent spirit of the Path of the Underworld.

The ghost mask had been hideous, but Ling Yun himself was actually quite handsome. His eyebrows were sharp and blade-like, and every glance and gesture carried an air of unrestrained arrogance. Yet rather than being off-putting, this loftiness gave him a sense of presence that was impossible to imitate.

As the strongest cultivator in the mortal realm, he had once ascended to its pinnacle and truly looked down upon the world

However, that was the Ling Yun of one hundred years ago.

Not this…..person?…..who was standing before them now.

Was he even human?

Half of his face did indeed look the same as it had one hundred years ago, yet his demeanor was no longer as flamboyant. The muscles of his face seemed to have become stiff and dead over the course of this century, and he was completely expressionless.

And as for the other half…..the left half of his face didn’t have a shred of intact skin. The burn scars stretched from his face all the way down his neck, and although the rest of him was concealed by clothing, one could guess that it was likely just as disfigured as his face.

And in addition to the burns, the left side of his face bore marks reminiscent of cuts from a sharp object, hideous and ghastly where they mingled with the burns.

This was a face capable of giving nightmares to the faint of heart.

Fang Yang didn’t consider himself to be a timid person, but seeing that face still caused his breath to briefly lodge in his throat. The fear that face made him feel was even worse than what he’d felt toward the man-eating skeletons.

Cao Zirui was also wide-eyed in disbelief. This person was really……

Hao Chen was no less astonished than the other two. Had it been absolutely anyone else, this Rakshasa wouldn’t have surprised him nearly to this extent.

But as far as surprise went, nobody present was nearly as impacted as Feng Ye.

A century ago, it was he who severed Jianmu with his own hands, and also he…..who killed all those people, including Ling Yun.

It wasn’t until a hundred years later, when he personally descended to the mortal realm to investigate the matter of Jianmu, that he finally learned this human’s name.

The source of the blade wounds on the left side of Ling Yun’s face was unknown, but there wasn’t a shadow of a doubt that those burn scars came from Feng Ye.

Feng Ye pressed his lips tight, but continued to meet Ling Yun’s gaze unwaveringly. Staring into those eyes that held a hatred so deep that it was suffocating, he didn’t flinch.

Time seemed to stand still as Feng Ye and Ling Yun stared at each other, motionless. Fang Yang and the others hardly dared to breathe as they stood perfectly still in the midst of this thoroughly eerie atmosphere.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ling Yun broke the silence. His gaze shifted to rest on Feng Ye’s left shoulder, which bore an inch-long wound that had been inflicted by his sword.

Although the wound wasn’t deep, blood continued to seep from the broken flesh. A corner of Ling Yun’s mouth tugged up at the sight.

His face seemed to have grown accustomed to its death-like rigidity, and his sudden attempt at a smile seemed as stiff as gears grinding back into motion after a period of disuse.

But despite the difficulty, he still forced a smile so strange that it hardly qualified as such.

He said to Feng Ye in a hoarse voice: “So you bleed as well.”

Even a lofty god of heaven could be wounded by him, a mere mortal, flesh torn open and bleeding profusely under his sword.

Feng Ye’s expression remained unchanged, and he only pursed his lips a little tighter.

But Hao Chen immediately snapped out of his stupor when he heard this, recalling with sudden clarity that Feng Ye had been injured.

His dragon had been injured!

This prompted him to immediately walk over and reach out, intending to cradle Feng Ye’s arm and carefully examine the wound.

But just as his hand was about to make contact, Feng Ye lightly shifted away to evade his touch.

Hao Chen froze. Although Feng Ye didn’t speak a word, his movement conveyed a crystal clear sense of rejection.

He stared at Feng Ye’s profile, but the other man didn’t return his gaze.

Hao Chen suddenly recalled the words that black serpent had spoken to him earlier, that Feng Ye would never fall for anyone. Considering the absolute certainty in thing’s words, perhaps it wasn’t a baseless assertion.

“Hehe.” A man’s low chuckle rang out, deep and resonant in a way that set it apart from Ling Yun’s raspy voice.

Hao Chen raised his head and looked toward Ling Yun. Just as he had been thinking about that black snake, it dropped in uninvited.

The black snake had climbed its way up to Ling Yun’s neck at some point, and now coiled itself around his shoulders. Its tongue flickered out as it greeted Feng Ye: “I told you we would meet again.”

Feng Ye frowned deeply, his gaze shifting between the black snake and Ling Yun.

One fact was now perfectly clear: Ling Yun was in league with this creature from the Emberless Horizon.

But as for how they had come to work together and what their exact intentions were, Feng Ye was completely in the dark. In fact, even now, he had yet to recover from the shock of seeing Ling Yun.

Feng Ye’s gaze wavered briefly before ultimately resettling on Ling Yun. Despite the mystery this creature represented, Feng Ye was far interested in discovering the reason for Ling Yun’s appearance.

His lips parted slightly as he appeared to speak, but before a single word could leave his mouth, something unexpected happened.

The ground trembled, and rocky soil rained down from overhead. Feng Ye looked up, only to find that the Grand Array was collapsing.

Ling Yun and the black snake around his shoulders mirrored him, and the black snake sighed with regret: “It seems these ruins are simply too ancient.”

The combined Six Paths of Reincarnation Array and the Eight Ghosts Illusion Array had not been created by him or Ling Yun, but were left behind by the people of Western Qiang. He had simply requisitioned them for his own use.

One thousand years later, although Western Qiang’s Grand Array for refining ghosts was still usable, it was now collapsing under the ravages of time before another malevolent ghost could be successfully forged.

And once these ruins collapsed, the meters-thick layer of rock above their heads would come crashing down. They couldn’t afford to linger here.

The black snake could only cast Feng Ye one final, regretful glance before hissing in Ling Yun’s ear: “Let’s go.”

Ling Yun didn’t hesitate in the slightest. Without taking his eyes off Feng Ye, he took a few steps back and then turned around and stepped through the stone door nearest to him.

Seeing that the stone door was about to close again, Fang Yang went to chase after him despite not being clear on the situation.

This Grand Array gave them no clues as to where to find the exit, and he had absolutely no idea how to escape.

But the path Ling Yun had taken was certain to be a way out. If they allowed him to leave, he, his Useless Shixiong, and the others would be left trapped here.

Cao Zirui reacted at the same moment. No matter how shocking it was that Ling Yun was still alive, that information didn’t take precedence over making it out of here. The two of them sprinted forward together, intent on stopping Ling Yun from escaping. But when they were halfway across the chamber, they were stopped by Feng Ye.

He watched as Ling Yun departed and watched as the stone door closed, making no move to stop him.

“Shixiong, how do we get out, ah?” 

Fang Yang was anxious. He couldn’t figure out why Useless Shixiong was blocking their way.

Dirt and rocks fell continuously from above, and the tremors beneath their feet surged to the point that they could barely keep their footing. If they stayed here any longer, they might very well end up buried here forever.

Feng Ye offered no explanation, but said with absolute certainty, “I have a solution.”

Without bothering to explain to Fang Yang and the others what exactly that solution was, he simply walked straight to the very center of the platform, where the angles of the stone doors intersected.

This was the center of the Grand Array, and also the key to opening a way out.

In the end, the underlying principle behind this array meant to refine the most malevolent of ghosts was actually quite simple. It wasn’t quite clear at the beginning, but upon reaching the center of the array, Feng Ye was able to discern a way out.

The Six Paths of Reincarnation Array divided those who entered it onto different paths, depending on their respective identities and characteristics. These Six Paths constituted the cycle of reincarnation, from which all sentient beings, even the gods, were unable to escape.

However, this array was only a mimicry of the true Six Paths of Reincarnation, and only had one exit: The Ghostly Path.

Once those who entered the array were bewitched by the illusions within and transformed into malevolent spirits, the exit would open naturally.

However, the four of them had not truly transformed into malevolent spirits after emerging from the Six Paths of Reincarnation array. Hao Chen was a true god, and this array was unable to drag him onto the Ghostly Path, nor was it able to trap him.

Fang Yang and Cao Zirui had found their way out entirely on their own, whereas Feng Ye had slaughtered his way through.

The aura of bloodlust and malevolence drenching him was indistinguishable from that of an actual Ashura. The array lacked human intelligence, and determined whether or not someone had fallen to the Ghostly Path by measuring their aura of humanity. Once the aura of humanity clinging to Feng Ye was obscured by resentful energy, he would be classified as a malevolent spirit.

As for the two bandits and their vicious dog, they had already been indistinguishable from ghosts and monsters before entering the battle. The array had little chance to bewitch them, making their passage through the first stage very easy.

Then came the second stage: The Eight Ghosts Illusion Array.

Transformed by the Eight Ghosts Illusion Array, the ghosts would clash here in battle and devour one another. The fastest method of cultivation for ghosts and monsters was to devour their own kind, much like that three-headed dog just now which had grown in power after consuming the hungry ghost.

When only the final victor remained, the ultimate malevolent ghost would be born as a conglomeration of the power of the eight original ghosts.

At that time, the exit to the array would open as well.

But the fact that Feng Ye had been able to make it through the Six Paths of Reincarnation proved that this array could be deceived. As long as the power of a single ghost was sufficiently strong, so great that the array considered it to be the ultimate malevolent ghost, the exit would open anyway.

And for Feng Ye, disguising himself as such a malevolent ghost was not a difficult feat.

Gripping the hilt of his sword in both hands, he angled the blade downward with a twist of his wrists and thrust it forcefully into the ground.

The long blade cut through solid stone, and the aura of carnage emanating from Feng Ye’s body flowed down the blade into the core of the array.

As he made his move, the six previously dim candles beside the six stone doors leaped without warning to a height of well over a meter.

The tremors immediately intensified, but this was not a sign of imminent collapse. It was the sound of mechanical components grinding to life.

Fang Yang and Cao Zirui were elated. It seemed that Feng Ye really did have a way to open an exit.

But in the midst of their joy, they failed to notice the bulging veins in Feng Ye’s arms, and that the wound on his left arm had torn open again from the exertion and was gushing blood like a spring. But he had no time to tend to the bleeding. The exit must be opened at once.

Hao Chen had been standing silently near Feng Ye all this while, and although he frowned at what he saw, he didn’t attempt to approach him again.

He had already been rejected once, but Fang Yang had not.

Hao Chen feigned an air of nonchalance as he tapped Fang Yang with his fan. Fang Yang reflexively turned around, and his gaze landed on the profusely bleeding Feng Ye..

He immediately went to Feng Ye, intending to cover the wound and stop the bleeding. But even while propping himself up on his sword, stuck in place as he channeled resentful energy into the core of the array, Feng Ye sensed someone approaching his wound and instinctively shouted: “Don’t touch me!”

His tone was so uncharacteristically aggressive that Fang Yang instantly froze in place.

A moment later, Feng Ye lowered his gaze to conceal his momentary loss of composure.

Hao Chen tapped his palm with his fan. It seemed his hunch was correct.

Animals were always more difficult to approach when injured, fearing that even greater harm would come to them.

At this moment, Feng Ye was the same. The wounded dragon refused to let anyone approach him. And it wasn’t just Hao Chen. He couldn’t even bring himself to let his guard down around Fang Yang, who was about as harmless as a little white rabbit.

Such distrust, as well as the distance he put between himself and others, seemed etched into his very bones.

A person who refused to trust others naturally wouldn’t fall for anyone either.

Hao Chen watched cold sweat trickle down Feng Ye’s temple in response to the pain of his wound, thinking to himself, Feng Ye…..how did the legendary God of War end up like this?

But before he could arrive at an answer, a protruding stone slab overhead finally loosened under the violent tremors and came crashing down.

This slab weighed several tons, and would inevitably crush anyone it fell on into a bloody pulp. It was falling straight toward Feng Ye.

Disregarding Feng Ye’s previous aggression, Fang Yang called out urgently: “Shixiong!”

But the exit was not yet fully open, and if Feng Ye stepped aside now, all of his previous effort would go to waste.

Feng Ye glanced up at the slab hurtling down from above, then grit his teeth and remained in place.

Hao Chen tightened his grip on his folding fan, but just as he was about to move, something unexpected happened.

Feng Ye suddenly freed one of his hands and used it to grasp the sharp edge of his blade. Blood swelled from his palm, mingling with the blood from his shoulder wound and dripping down onto the array.

This fresh blood accelerated the opening of the exit, and just before the stone slab could smash into Feng Ye, the Grand Array sensed a sufficient concentration of sacrificial blood and finally began to activate.

Feng Ye threw himself into a side roll, narrowly evading the falling slab.

With a crash, it slammed into the ground and sent cracks spidering across it.

At the same time, a passage opened overhead. Everyone looked up, only then realizing that the stone slab overhead had been blocking a door.

But wait, there wasn’t just one. The over fifty-meter distance to the surface was lined with eighteen stone doors, resembling the eighteen layers of the underworld.

The eighteen stone doors opened in succession, revealing to everyone’s eyes a vertical shaft shooting straight down into the earth.

It was dusk when they entered the underground ruins, and now it was the pitch-black of midnight. Although the opening didn’t let in much light, it was enough to raise everyone’s spirits.

Yet before happiness showed on any of their faces, another set of stone doors swung open abruptly.

And through the six doors they had all traveled through to get here poured an unending stream of skeletons.

Their hollow eye sockets burned with hatred and resentment. All of them had been vanquished in the struggle between malevolent spirits, their skeletal remains trapped forever within this ghost-refining array. Yet now, these humans were able to leave.

They lunged forward as if they had gone mad, trying to make them stay, to ensure that they were buried alongside them deep beneath the earth where the light of day couldn’t reach.

Feng Ye spared the swarming skeletons a glance and let out a scoff. This was certainly not part of the original array’s design. More than likely, it was the work of Ling Yun and that creature accompanying him.

He shouted toward Fang Yang and the others, who were still staring dumbfounded at the skeletons shambling toward them: “Go!”

This shout snapped the others out of their daze, and they immediately headed toward where the ranks of the skeletons were thinnest, where they could break through the encirclement and climb up the rock face to escape the Grand Array.

The skeletons weren’t difficult to deal with. Despite their terrifying appearances, their combat strength was inferior to that of most ordinary monsters, and Fang Yang and Cao Zirui were able to handle them with ease despite their inability to use their spiritual power.

But that didn’t apply to the army of thousands streaming toward them.

The edge of a blade shattered one to pieces, only for the next to lunge forward in its place. The stream of enemies was inexhaustible.

But most of the skeletons seemed to be focused on Feng Ye, and there were far more crowding around him than the others.

Feng Ye realized that this was likely because of the blood drenching his entire body. It wasn’t just his own, but was mixed with the blood of those he had massacred inside the Path of Carnage.

A single drop of fresh blood would have been enough for these skeletons to pursue him relentlessly, and he was absolutely covered in it.

Feng Ye’s mind raced. With a slash of his sword, he swept away the skeletons blocking the path of Fang Yang and the others, shouting: “You go ahead, I’ll cover our retreat!”

“But…..” Fang Yang hesitated.

Neither Fang Yang nor Cao Zirui heeded Feng Ye’s order to leave.

It was Hao Chen who took the lead. Grabbing the two boys in each hand, he dragged them over to the rock wall and said: “You’ll only be a burden if you stay here. It’s better for you to leave immediately.”

He wasn’t wrong. Although Feng Ye’s cultivation was at the third level of Qi Refining, the lowest among the four of them, none of them were able to use spiritual power at the moment, and they couldn’t hope to match Feng Ye’s ability with a sword.

As the group hesitated, the skeletons pushed forward once more, and it looked as if the path Feng Ye had cleared for them was about to be obstructed.

Fang Yang finally made up his mind and called out to Cao Zirui beside him: “We’ll leave first!”

Having said this, he pulled Cao Zirui along to climb up the rock wall.

Hao Chen glanced back at Feng Ye. Seeing that Feng Ye was still fighting effortlessly despite being surrounded by the horde of skeletons, he began to climb up beside the two boys.

Feng Ye swung his sword in a horizontal slash at chest height, shattering the three skeletons in front him with a single strike. Without pause, he immediately turned his blade and slashed backward, sending three more heads tumbling to the ground.

He glanced up during a pause in the battle and saw that Fang Yang and the others had already climbed about halfway up. Done waiting, he seized an opening to break through the skeletons and rushed toward the rock wall.

He broke into a jog to build momentum, and just before he would crash into the wall of rock, he leaped into the air. With a tap-tap-tap of his toes against rock, he shot upward three or four meters to put distance between himself and the skeletons still in hot pursuit behind him.

He glanced back again to find that the skeletons were attempting to scale the rock wall, but their bare, flesh-less bones moved with awkward difficulty. They were fully capable of walking, but climbing required the use of countless muscles throughout the body.

One by one, the skeletons attempted to clamber up, and one by one, they failed. The highest any of them was able to climb was one meter.

But before Feng Ye could breathe a sigh of relief, he witnessed the astonishing sight of the skeletons stacking themselves on top of one another, forming a ladder of bones as they climbed upward by stepping on the bodies of their companions.

Seeing this, Feng Ye stopped stalling and swiftly made his way upward. But the skeletons knew that if they allowed these people to leave, it was likely that no living person would ever enter this underground hell again.

So they threw themselves upward impulsively, resentment and unwillingness uniting them like never before. The ladder climbed higher and higher, soon overtaking the speed of Feng Ye’s climbing pace.

Fang Yang and the others had already climbed out of the Grand Array, and the boy urged anxiously from the exit: “Shixiong, hurry up!”

Feng Ye was already moving as fast as he could. The wounds on his left arm and the palm of his hand had gone from pain to numbness, and his lips were bloodless, but he couldn’t afford to stop.

He estimated the distance between himself and the exit. There was still time.

However, luck didn’t seem to be in his favor today. The open stone door had begun to close, and judging by the speed, it would seal itself shut before he managed to climb out.

Upon seeing this, Fang Yang and Cao Zirui used their swords to brace against the stone door on both sides. But the force behind the door was unexpectedly strong, and even with both of them working together, they could just barely hold it back.

The two of them only managed to slow it down slightly, despite using their hands and feet and straining so hard that their faces went red.

Feng Ye didn’t dwell on whether or not he would make it in time, and simply gave his all to climbing upward.

By the time he was finally one meter from the exit, it was only wide enough for one person to climb through. And right on his heels, the horde of skeletons had caught up with him. Atop the countless bones of its companions, the highest skeleton grasped Feng Ye’s ankle and clung to it stubbornly, attempting to drag him back down.

Directly above Feng Ye, Hao Chen reached out and shouted down to him: “Grab my hand!”

Feng Ye hesitated, looking up into peach blossom eyes that were normally so frivolous, but which now were now filled with anxiety.

Time seemed to slow down as a flurry of thoughts raced through Feng Ye’s head. If he were to take a flying leap now, although he had no chance of reaching the exit, he would be able to reach Hao Chen’s hand.

Then he could use that leverage to haul himself upward at a faster speed than he could achieve by climbing on his own.

For the average person, this choice wouldn’t require a moment’s thought. But when it came to Feng Ye, his choices often ran contrary to those of everyone else.

He couldn’t trust that pair of hands reaching down from the cliff’s edge. They looked like salvation, but there was always the possibility that they would let go just as he thought he had been saved.

Entrusting his life to the hands of others…..Feng Ye had long since stopped making such a foolish mistake.

But at this moment, he looked into Hao Chen’s eyes and saw his own reflection mirrored in them, as well as the ladder of skeletons ascending from below.

There was something unknown behind the anxiety in those eyes that ensnared him, and although he couldn’t define it, he sensed that it must be something very tender and beautiful.

Struck by some strange impulse, he pushed off the rock wall and lunged upward to grasp Hao Chen’s hand mid-air.

Hao Chen gripped him tightly in response, as if he would refuse to let go even in death.

He hauled Feng Ye upward, along with the stubborn skeleton that refused to release its grip on his ankle.

The moment Feng Ye was fully out, Fang Yang and Cao Zirui ran out of strength. They pulled back the swords they had been bracing against and tumbled to the ground, and the lack of resistance caused the stone door to slam shut.

The skeleton gripping Feng Ye had managed to extend only a portion of its arm before the stone door severed it.

Feng Ye pried the skeletal hand from his ankle and tossed it aside.

Then he collapsed in place along with Hao Chen, tilting his head back to gaze at the round sun rising on the horizon to the east.

Dawn had arrived.

---

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Chapter 108 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 110

That night, Wang Huanzhi and his advisor Wang Zhang went to the Eastern Market together.

The Eastern Market in the commoners district was very busy, but it was far less opulent than the Western Market.

This included the passersby, as well as the various restaurants and theaters in the area, but the shouting of vendors and the swelling crowds gave it a more lively and bustling atmosphere than the Western Market.

However, it was now late at night during winter, and even though curfew had not yet arrived, the street vendors had all packed up and almost all of the shops along the street were closed, with only a few restaurants, gambling dens, and brothels still lit up.

Wang Huanzhi considered himself to be a man of high social standing, and rarely visited the Eastern Market.

Or rather, he had almost no interactions with commoners.

He frowned slightly upon stepping onto the main street of the Eastern Market. But, mindful of maintaining his composure, he didn’t react further and simply continued onward.

Wang Zhang’s reaction was slightly better, but his eyes still darted around nervously.

When he saw intertwined figures through the window of a brothel, he quickly averted his gaze and thought to himself, how distasteful and vulgar.

Even the sight of the thick, coarse linen curtain hanging in the doorway of a restaurant seemed to offend his eyes, and his gaze carried a perpetual hint of arrogant disdain.

In front of them was a man in the garb of a restaurant server.

He walked slightly bent at the waist, not daring to walk too fast or too slow, and constantly kept track of the two high-class figures behind him in his peripheral vision.

The streets and alleys in the eastern part of the city were quite narrow, making it difficult for carriages to pass through, which was why they were on foot.

Unfortunately, their destination was deep within the market, so they were forced to brave the biting wind and snow as they hurried on their way.

Wang Huanzhi and Wang Zhang were wearing fox fur cloaks and hoods, but even so, they shivered with cold throughout their journey.

Had they not been aware that the papermaker wished to remain anonymous, which was why he had chosen this location for the meeting, Wang Huanzhi and his companion would have suspected that someone was playing a trick on them.

When they had walked for about fifteen minutes, the servant finally stopped.

They also spotted a two-story restaurant named “Silver Lining Tower.” It looked neither particularly old nor new, much like the other restaurants on the street, but seemed even more inferior than the first one they had seen.

“This is the place, esteemed guests,” the servant said, lifting the curtain at the entrance of the restaurant and pushing open the door.

Warmth immediately spilled out from within, and Wang Huanzhi and his companion quickly stepped inside.

The interior of the restaurant was fairly clean and tidy, with many tables and chairs on the first floor where several groups of customers were having their meals.

When these people noticed someone entering, they all looked over. Seeing how expensively these two were dressed, some people observed them with curious scrutiny, while others dared not look too closely and averted their gazes.

Wang Huanzhi and Wang Zhang instinctively tightened their hoods to better hide their faces.

Meeting the papermaker wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, but the esteemed head of the Wang family and a family elder coming to such an inferior restaurant was somewhat embarrassing.

The servant led them both upstairs.

The second floor consisted of private rooms and guest chambers.

Upon reaching a private room, the servant knocked on the door. After receiving a response, he opened it and ushered Wang Huanzi and Wang Zhang inside, then closed it again and made himself scarce.

As soon as Wang Huanzhi entered the room, he looked up at the person sitting at the table.

He was a middle-aged man wearing a mask and a straw hat, which made it impossible to distinguish his face. But judging from his build, he appeared to be rather short and stout, with a protruding belly.

“Please have a seat, both of you.” He stood up, gesturing toward the two other chairs at the table.

Wang Huanzhi went over and sat down, and Wang Zhang did the same.

The man waited until they were both seated before retaking his own seat.

Then he poured tea for Wang Huanzhi and Wang Zhang, and said as he handed it to them: “Thank you both for traveling all this way through the snow. I apologize for not being able to reveal myself, and I hope you can understand the circumstances I am under.”

His behavior was very respectful, which went a long way toward mollifying the anger Wang Huanzhi and Wang Zhang had felt during their arduous journey through the snowstorm.

But their anger still existed in some form, and therefore, neither of them bothered with offering the man pleasantries: “We’ll skip the tea. Since you sent someone to escort us here, can we presume that you’ve decided to partner with the Wang family?”

The man also dispensed with formalities, saying: “The Wang family is the most prestigious scholarly family in the world, and possesses the valuable Langya Gold paper. Naturally, this one would like to partner with the Wang family. Only…..”

He deliberately paused, then looked up at Wang Huanzhi.

When Wang Huanzhi met his gaze, he noticed that the man’s eyes were brown and deeply set. He didn’t look like someone from the Central Plains, but rather like someone from the Western Regions.

It turned out to be a foreigner.

With this idea in mind, Wang Huanzhi lowered his guard somewhat.

“Only what?” he asked.

The man said: “Only, two factions of the Wang family have made contact with me. I wonder if there is any reason for this?”

Upon hearing this, Wang Huanzhi and Wang Zhang promptly exchanged glances.

It seemed that the information they received earlier was correct. Wang Qichen, that rebellious son, had managed to make contact with the papermaker.

However, it was clear that Wang Huanzhi, the head of the Wang family, was the better choice.

Wang Huanzhi was even more eager to obtain the contract for the new paper quickly, fearing that if he dragged his feet, Wang Qichen would beat him to it.

Then, he would truly be trampled underfoot by the other party.

But one could not reveal their hand during negotiations, so instead of directly stating a price offer, he said: “Both groups naturally belong to the Wang family. We divided our focus in the interest of discovering more opportunities, but unexpectedly, both groups ended up making contact with you.”

Upon hearing this, the man smiled in apparent relief: “Family Head Wang’s words have put me at ease.”

Wang Huanzhi remained silent, so Wang Zhang spoke up: “The volume of any transaction in the paper business is enormous. I wonder if you could show us some of the paper so that we can know whether the money spent will be worthwhile?”

As he spoke, his gaze fell toward the table.

From the beginning, a rectangular box the same size as the paper regularly used in Great Ning had been sitting there. Wang Zhang had spotted it the moment he entered the room, and surmised that it must be the Yaotai Green paper.

However, they still needed to see the Yaotai Green paper with their own eyes first, and also determine if this foreign merchant actually had it in his possession.

The merchant then said: “Rest assured, gentlemen. This one has been doing business for decades, and has never cheated.”

As he spoke, he reached out and opened the box, carefully retrieving a sheet of rice paper from it.

It was pure white and supple, smooth and delicate, like a divine artifact.

Wang Huanzhi and Wang Zhang stared forward, momentarily stunned.

This was truly good paper!

Few members of the Wang family disliked literature and calligraphy, and were naturally fond of the Four Treasures of the study.

Their family possessed a wide range of expertise in making writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones, but they were the most renowned for the paper they manufactured.

But the sheet of paper in front of them completely overturned their previous impression of what paper could be.

Wang Huanzhi and Wang Zhang finally understood why this paper had become so famous in the capital even before sales had begun. The rumors were no exaggeration.

Observing their reactions, the foreign merchant spread the paper out on the table and said: “Please take a look, gentlemen.”

Wang Huanzhi immediately reached out and gently stroked the smooth, slightly matte-textured paper.

Wang Zhang did the same.

“This paper looks smooth, but has some texture when touched, making it perfect for writing,” Wang Zhang remarked.

Wang Huanzhi couldn’t bring himself to part with it.

Indeed, such paper was worthy of his poetry.

Once he got his hands on this papermaking method, he would certainly rewrite all of his poems on this paper.

His works would be passed down to future generations, who would surely admire them greatly.

Noting their unwavering focus, the foreign merchant spoke up: “What do the two gentlemen think?”

Wang Huanzhi and Wang Zhang were slightly startled. Realizing that they had forgotten themselves, they quickly regained their composure.

“It is good,” Wang Huanzhi said in a mild voice. “May I ask how much you intend to charge for the papermaking technique?”

“Papermaking technique?” The merchant said with a smile, “There seems to have been a misunderstanding. This one isn’t selling the technique – just the finished product.”

Wang Huanzhi and Wang Zhang had actually guessed that this was the case.

Such a lucrative business would allow the papermaker to obtain a continuous stream of income simply by holding onto the formula and technique, which was much more profitable than a one-time buyout.

“Then what is the price for the finished paper?”

The three discussed the matter for almost an hour before Wang Huanzhi and Wang Zhang departed.

They now had the rectangular box in their hands, which contained two sheets of the new paper, a gift from the foreign merchant.

They had also given the merchant ten gold ingots as a deposit.

Before dawn, the Wang family still needed to send three more boxes of gold to that small inn in the eastern part of the city. At that time, they would be able to receive the first batch of the new paper.

Thirty sheets in total.

Scarcity created value.

The Wang family would be able to sell each of these thirty sheets of paper at a sky-high price and elevate their name once more.

And if Wang Huanzhi were able to obtain the manufacturing rights to this new paper, his status would be far higher than Wang Qichen’s. Not only would he be able to secure his position as Family Head, but he might also find a way to transfer the position of heir to Wang Wenyao.

Combining all of these factors, the value of these thirty sheets of Yaotai Green paper far exceeded three boxes of gold.

Wang Huanzhi and Wang Zhang both felt as if they had stumbled upon a fortune, but fearing that the merchant might have second thoughts, they left the Eastern Market very quietly after signing the contract.

Discussion could wait until the transaction was completed tomorrow morning.

Nearly a quarter of an hour after they left, the foreign merchant got to his feet and left the private room, turning to walk toward the guest rooms further inside.

After knocking on the door of one of the rooms and going inside, the foreign merchant removed the disguise covering his face and head.

If Wang Huanzhi and Wang Zhang were still present, they would have been shocked to find that this person actually looked like someone from the Central Plains. It was only that his brow and eyes were more deep-set than the average person’s, which gave him the appearance of someone from the Western Regions.

After shedding his disguise, the man offered a formal bow to the person reclining on a soft couch near the window: “Young Master, the contract has been signed.”

He stepped forward and placed the ten ingots of gold on the table, saying: “This is their deposit. As you predicted, they will send over three more boxes of gold tomorrow morning.”

The young man in pink propped his face up with one hand. His eyelashes fluttered slightly as his cunning, fox-like eyes slowly opened.

He regarded the man with a calm look and said lazily: “You’ve worked hard. Take two ingots of gold and buy some food and drink.”

The man had always known that this young master was generous, but he was still delighted to hear this.

Two ingots of gold, ah!

How much food and drink would he be able to buy with this?!

“Thanking the Young Master for this reward.” The man bowed with his hands clasped.

“Go on. Get an early start tomorrow so as not to keep them waiting,” said Wang Qichen.

The man then turned and left.

*

*

The next day.

At noon, after lunch.

It was a rare occasion where all of the clan elders were gathered in the Wang family’s council hall. The two main seats were occupied by Family Head Wang Huanzhi and Minister of Rites Wang Zhiyuan.

The seats and tea tables in the next few rows were arranged according to rank and status.

Young Master Wang Qichen sat to the left, while Deputy Minister of Revenue Wang Pengyi sat opposite him. Behind them were the other clan elders, and those sitting to their left and right were officials of higher status.

There were many familiar faces, such as Deputy Minister of Justice Wang Ruzhen, Wang Yu, a senior official with the Ministry of Personnel, and Wang Zhang, a clan elder.

There was also Wang Huanzhi’s second son, Wang Wenyao, on whom he had placed all of his hopes, doting on him since he was a child.

Wang Wenyao was neither an elder nor an official, and although he was allowed to attend this meeting due to his status as a son of the family head, he could only sit at the end of the row.

When he looked up, his gaze fell upon a figure in pink at the head of the row.

Only by becoming the heir would he ascend to that level and be able to compete for the position of the next family head.

As if sensing something, Wang Qichen suddenly looked in his direction.

Wang Wenyao’s face was cold and stern, displaying the same aloof demeanor as Wang Huanzhi.

Wang Qichen smirked and casually looked away, not taking him seriously at all.

His opponent had never been Wang Huanzhi’s son, but rather Wang Huanzhi himself.

There was no evidence that Wang Huanzhi was responsible for his mother’s death, but that didn’t matter. He was determined to take revenge anyway.

And as for the main wife who had risen to power by treading on his mother’s corpse…..she, too, must pay the price.

Once everyone had arrived, Wang Zhiyuan turned to Wang Huanzhi and said: “What urgent matter has the family head summoned us here for today?”

He had long noticed the rectangular box, which was about the size of a sheet of paper, sitting on the table between him and Wang Huanzhi.

It seemed that Wang Huanzhi had obtained that “new paper” and invited everyone over to show it off.

This sentence was exactly what Wang Huanzhi had been waiting for, and he smiled faintly with an air of serene elegance.

“I indeed have something to tell you all,” Wang Huanzhi said. “The Yaotai Green paper that has been widely circulated in the capital recently actually originates from the Western Regions. After a long search, I finally made contact with the papermaker yesterday and signed a contract, and I sent over three boxes of gold this morning to secure the newest thirty sheets of Yaotai Green paper.”

These words caused an uproar.

“That papermaker is so mysterious, yet the Family Head was able to locate him. Truly remarkable.”

“Heavens, thirty sheets of the new paper. These days, even a single sheet of that paper is worth a fortune. Thirty sheets for just three boxes of gold is simply…..”

Some people rushed to flatter Wang Huanzhi and some were already dreaming of riches, but others asked the most important question.

“I just wonder if the papermaker will change his mind about selling it to us if we resell it at an exorbitant price?”

Upon hearing this, Wang Huanzhi raised a hand and silenced everyone before speaking: “Everyone, there is no need to worry. I have already signed a contract with him and ordered one hundred sheets of paper. I even sent someone to follow him back to his residence.”

Although he didn’t state it explicitly, most of them understood.

Wang Huanzhi had no intention of maintaining a long-term business partnership. He simply desired the papermaking technique.

Therefore, he had placed another large order, which would prompt the papermaker to manufacture another batch. Wang Huanzhi had ordered people to secretly follow the man, which would allow them to discover the papermaking site and find a way to steal information or directly obtain his papermaking secrets.

This was a highly-profitable business.

Everyone understood what was going on, but it wouldn’t be good if word got out. The Wang family valued their reputation above all else, so no one would speak a word of this.

If they really cared so much about saving face, they should have simply told Wang Huanzhi to conduct his business in an aboveboard manner.

But when faced with the prospect of personal gain, their pride appeared to be completely worthless.

The crowd showered Wang Huanzhi with praise and flattery. He remained indifferent and aloof, never speaking a modest word as he enjoyed the attention.

Wang Zhiyuan and other members of the Young Master’s faction, including Wang Pengyi, regarded him with disdain.

Wang Qichen, however, let out an amused chuckle.

His laughter wasn’t loud, but because Wang Huanzhi had been paying close attention to his expression, he noticed it immediately.

“Qichen.” Wang Huanzhi looked at him and said softly, “What are you laughing about?”

He donned the look of a “loving but strict father,” and those who didn’t know better might even think that the father and son had a functioning relationship.

But nowadays, who among those in the hall were unaware that the two were irreconcilable enemies?

But while he could put on a facade, Wang Qichen could put on an even better one.

The young man regarded Wang Huanzhi with a smile: “Naturally, I am laughing from joy. I’m very happy for you, Father.”

Wang Huanzhi’s lips twitched slightly, as if he could see through the boy to the impotent rage hiding beneath.

“Let a lord be a lord, a minister a minister, a father a father, and a son a son,” he said. “You are still young. Listen to your father’s advice so that you may go further in life.”

His meaning was that no matter how much power Wang Qichen gained, he would never be able to defeat his father.

Wang Qichen, however, was unbothered. All smiles, he said: “Father has spoken so much, but why hasn’t he shown us the new paper? Could he be trying to trick us?”

Upon hearing this, everyone fixed their gazes on Wang Huanzhi.

They didn’t believe that Wang Huanzhi was tricking them; they simply wanted to lay their eyes on the new paper.

Wang Zhiyuan gave Wang Qichen a deep look, then turned to Wang Huanzhi and smiled: “The Young Master is correct. Why doesn’t the Family Head bring out the new paper for us to see?”

Since he had spoken, Wang Huanzhi naturally had no choice but to respond.

But he had always intended to show everyone. Seeing was believing, and he wished to demonstrate his competence in front of everyone.

Thus, he opened the box on the table. Inside was supple, pure white paper that drew gasps of amazement from everyone in the hall.

Wang Huanzhi’s lips curved upward, and he looked toward the end of the seating area: “Wenyao, take this new paper and let the elders have a look.”

He was intentionally demonstrating how much he valued Wang Wenyao, and also giving him an opportunity to gain recognition in front of the others.

Wang Wenyao had no problem with being the center of attention. He agreed and stood up, then went to the table and picked up the light wooden box, showing it to Wang Zhiyuan.

Then he proceeded in sequence down the row.

Wang Wenyao deliberately made a circle, drawing everyone’s amazement before finally returning to the front to show Wang Qichen.

Wang Qichen merely gave it a fleeting glance, then said with a smile: “Father is so impressive. He managed to fool everyone with just this single piece of paper.”

“What?” Wang Huanzhi frowned.

Wang Wenyao fixed Wang Qichen with a heavy look, then said in a stern voice: “Brother, this paper is pure white and supple, neatly-cut and without any rough edges. In every way, it is far superior to our Langya Gold paper. How can it possibly ‘fool’ anyone?”

“What are you getting so worked up about?” Wang Qichen sat cross-legged on his chair, looking casual and indolent with his long, wavy hair cascading over his shoulders.

He gestured toward the paper in the box and said: “I don’t mean that the paper isn’t good quality – I’m merely pointing out that there is only one sheet, not thirty.”

He gave Wang Huanzhi a faint smile, saying: “Father, have you been tricked?”

Wang Zhang had been observing Wang Qichen’s reactions from beginning to end, and for some reason, he felt a little ill at ease upon hearing these words.

Wang Huanzhi scoffed: “Ignorant. The remaining paper is naturally underneath the first sheet. How could there only be one?”

Deputy Minister of Revenue Wang Pengyi suddenly stood from his seat and said: “The Young Master’s words make sense. What if the merchant only placed the new sheet of paper on top, and the rest are all ordinary sheets of paper?”

“Deputy Minister Wang is overthinking things,” said Wang Huanzhi. “This is an important business deal, so I’ve naturally inspected it myself.”

In order to prove himself, he got up and approached Wang Wenyao, reaching over to lightly pick up the top sheet of paper.

Just as he was about to tell Wang Wenyao to show everyone the rest of the paper, he suddenly froze, his pupils contracting sharply.

When Wang Wenyao caught sight of the second sheet of paper, his expression changed drastically.

“What’s wrong?” Wang Pengyi asked, feigning confusion as he leaned in to take a look. Then he exclaimed in surprise, “Wait, why is this paper moldy?”

Upon hearing this, everyone started to gather around for a look.

Wang Pengyi had already snatched the box from Wang Wenyao’s hands and poured out the remaining twenty-nine sheets of paper.

The sheets rustled as they scattered across the floor.

Upon closer inspection, everyone noticed that the mottled yellow paper held traces of blueish-black mold, making it look even worse than ordinary paper piled up and rotting in a warehouse.

“What…..what’s going on?”

Everyone was in a fluster, but they could vaguely guess what had occurred. All of them turned their gazes toward Wang Qichen.

“Wang Qichen! It was you! You’re sabotaging me!” Wang Huanzhi saw through it all, and was so furious that his hands trembled. His usual composed and lofty demeanor was nowhere to be seen. “How dare you mess with me!”

He had inspected the sheets of paper one by one, and they were all fine before. Why were they all moldy and yellow now?

It had to have been Wang Qichen working behind the scenes!

Fearing that his father would anger himself sick, Wang Wenyao quickly went over to support him.

Wang Qichen had indeed tampered with the paper.

He readily nodded in agreement, saying with a smile: “Father should be glad that it was me this time. Had it been someone else, this Wang family would have never been able to get the money back.”

Wang Huanzhi trembled all over: “Y-you…..”

Wang Qichen didn’t give him a chance to fall further into rage.

He turned to look outside the hall, then raised his hands and clapped twice. The door opened, and servants carried in four large boxes.

The boxes were placed on the floor, and everyone recognized them as the containers used to store gold in the Wang family storeroom.

There was an additional box, upon which was printed the words “Yaotai Bookstore.”

In an instant, everyone came to a realization.

The servants carrying the boxes opened all three of them, but the boxes of glittering gold didn’t draw a single glance from the crowd.

All eyes were on the contents of the fourth box.

The supple, pure white paper inside…..wasn’t that the priceless Yaotai Green paper?

“I-impossible!” Wang Huanzhi’s teeth chattered as he spoke. “Those are fake!”

But Wang Zhiyuan, Wang Pengyi, and others had already gone forward, each of them carefully plucking a piece of paper from the box.

All of the sheets were a uniform snow white. Wang Huanzhi felt the blood rush to his head and almost passed out.

Wang Qichen glanced at him and said with a half-smile: “Why is Father in such a state? Is it because he’s proud of me?”

“If that’s the case, I’m about to make Father even happier.” As he observed Wang Huanzhi’s increasingly unsightly expression, his smile deepened. “I’ve been the owner of this Yaotai Green paper from the very beginning.”

Wang Huanzhi’s anger surged to the point that he could no longer withstand it, and he collapsed.

It was unclear whether anger or shame was the primary factor.

“Father!” Wang Wenyao grasped him tightly, but he was thin and weak, and was unable to support a fully unconscious person. He stumbled and fell, the father and son each looking more disheveled than the other.

Wang Qichen promptly adopted an anxious expression, calling to the servants: “Did you not see the family head faint from happiness? Are you not going to help him back to his room?”

The servants rushed to carry Wang Huanzhi out.

Wang Wenyao pushed himself up from the floor and glared at him with bloodshot eyes, but no words left his mouth. Instead, he rushed out furiously after Wang Huanzhi.

Wang Qichen put them out of his mind. He turned to address everyone in the hall, saying with a smile: “Thank you all for coming to watch the show today. Later, I will have someone deliver two pieces of paper to each of you for your enjoyment.”

Having said this, he bowed deeply to the crowd.

The father and son had been at odds before this, but never so blatantly, and everyone had their own biases.

But during today’s game, anyone with a discerning eye was able to see the truth.

This young master was far superior to the family head.

He was even more superior to Wang Wenyao, the second son on whom the family head had placed all of his hopes, but who only knew how to bury himself in books.

Everyone approached Wang Qichen with smiles on their faces and an eagerness to get a word in with him. Even the clan elders who had previously been indifferent to him now wore pleasant expressions, clearly beginning to sidle over to his faction.

Wang Qichen handled them with ease, moving among them like a pink butterfly as he held lighthearted conversations.

Wang Pengyi stood with his grandfather, Wang Zhiyuan, at the back of the crowd for a while. Then he said with a smile: “He’s really grown up.”

He remembered that when the late madam passed away, Wang Qichen had been just a little boy, dressed in plain clothes as he knelt on a prayer mat. At an age when he should have been oblivious to the world, his beautiful fox-like eyes had been filled with an unspeakable sorrow and helplessness.

At that moment, Wang Pengyi had thought, I must protect this child.

Wang Zhiyuan glanced at his soft-hearted grandson, then turned to walk away with a chuckle.

Wang Pengyi followed, then heard his grandfather say: “You have a keen eye to have recognized his extraordinary nature so early on.”

“That’s not the case at all,” Wang Pengyi said with a smile. “At first, I just felt sorry for the child and wanted to take care of him. Over time, we became like brothers.”

“Good, ah.” Wang Zhiyuan let out a long breath. His tense back seemed to relax at this moment, as if he had set down a heavy burden.

*

*

Nighttime.

Just as Chu Jiubian was about to go to sleep, the System notified him that Wang Qichen was requesting an audience.

He then summoned the other man into the Divine Realm.

Qin Xiao had changed into new undergarments, and didn’t bother tying the sash. When he turned around, he found that Chu Jiubian was already huddled under the covers with only his eyes showing.

He went to the bedside and lay down, lifting the blanket to cover himself, though he left his upper body exposed.

The dim lighting in the room caused the man’s honey-colored skin to appear even more alluring.

Chu Jiubian’s gaze automatically fell upon the man’s prominent collarbones, then moved downward.

This was just like yesterday. He had thought Qin Xiao was doing it unintentionally, but then he went ahead and did it again today.

How did he manage to hit the right modeling pose every time?

And those muscles were rather soft when relaxed, but they seemed to flex every time Chu Jiubian touched them.

Every time they were alone, Qin Xiao showed off the contours of his superior muscles.

Chu Jiubian looked up and met the other’s gaze.

Their eyes locked, and they spoke at the same time.

Qin Xiao: “Want to touch?”

Chu Jiubian: “Are you seducing me?”

Chu Jiubian: “……”

Qin Xiao chuckled softly, then suddenly turned over and moved closer to Chu Jiubian.

Chu Jiubian instinctively scooted back, but Qin Xiao easily trapped him in his arms, then took one of his hands and pressed it against the muscles of his chest.

“I said you can touch me if you want to.”

Chu Jiubian hesitated, but then he closed his eyes and decided to follow his heart.

“Go to sleep,” he mumbled.

Qin Xiao chuckled, the vibration of his laughter transmitting through Chu Jiubian’s palm.

The lights in the room went out, plunging it into complete darkness.

Chu Jiubian closed his eyes, gradually relaxing as the heartbeat under his palm thumped steadily and powerfully.

An unknown amount of time later, Qin Xiao loosened his grip on his wrist. The man’s breathing had long grown deep and even.

He had fallen asleep.

Chu Jiubian opened his eyes, only to be met with complete darkness.

Once his eyes had adjusted, he could vaguely make out Qin Xiao’s hazy outline.

After staring at him quietly for a while, he closed his eyes again and sank into the Divine Realm.

Wang Qichen was examining Situ Zhaoling and Jiang Shuoye’s chairs when he heard the High Priest’s voice. He quickly stood up and bowed: “Greeting the High Priest.”

“En. What brings you here?” Chu Jiubian asked.

“This subordinate accomplished something today.” Wang Qichen’s eyes were bright as he recounted what had occurred with the Wang family that day.

Then he said: “Sales of the Yaotai Green paper have already begun, with over a dozen sheets being sold in just one afternoon.”

Scarcity drove up value, and since Wang Qichen’s current goal was to make money from the wealthy and powerful, the pricing was naturally outrageously high.

But even so, many people still flocked to buy it. Had Wang Qichen not been controlling the quantity, several hundred sheets would have likely been sold today.

He had taken much of today’s profits into the Divine Realm with him.

Delivering the funds was the reason he had contacted the High Priest, and he was so quick to do so because he knew that the money was needed in the Northern Desert.

Jiang Shuoye’s clothes had been patched when he was in the Divine Realm before, so he must be short on funds.

Little did he know that Jiang Shuoye did have money, but that he couldn’t bear to buy himself a new set of clothes, and instead used it all to purchase new clothes and extra food for his soldiers.

Chu Jiubian thought for a moment. He was indeed somewhat short on money, so he accepted it.

But he informed Wang Qichen that there was no need to send him more money, and that the issue could be revisited in the future.

The National Treasury was in better shape than before, but after the Imperial Examinations, the expenses would only increase as the court made more and more changes.

Therefore, he needed to find more ways for Qin Xiao to make money.

The Nanjiang silk business had stabilized, and cotton could be planted in the spring, which would bring in another influx of funds.

But it wasn’t enough. Chu Jiubian considered whether or not he should have Situ Zhaoling go and look for “rubber trees.”

Rubber had a wide range of uses. If it could be found and utilized, there would surely be unexpected benefits when paired with the inventive abilities of Situ Zhaoyao and the engineering scholars.

In Hexi Prefecture, Han Yuandao was also instructing the common people to plant sweet potatoes.

Once this high-yield crop was available, even more people would rush to plant it during the second part of the year, thereby solving the majority of the food scarcity issue.

He had provisions, money, and an army.

Chu Jiubian had already begun preparing for the potential war that lay ahead.

But these things alone were not enough. He also needed military equipment.

He needed warhorses and weapons.

Weapons were easy enough. Jiang Shuoye would continue to build more steel mills and produce more weapons, which could then be used to equip troops even outside of the Mobei Army.

As for warhorses, since they couldn’t be seized directly from the Tatars for the time being, they could only be traded for with the Jurchens.

However, this was not an urgent matter. Chu Jiubian planned to discuss the specific regulations with Qin Xiao after the final round of the Imperial Examinations.

And as the date of the examinations grew closer…..

Chu Jiubian was also extremely busy on a day-to-day basis, not only preparing for the examinations, but also for the “parade of officials” afterward, also known as the “Horseback Achievement Parade.”

He didn’t inform the students of this, but simply had someone instruct them in horseback riding practice. Even Qin Xiao and Bai Lihong had no idea of what was keeping him so busy every day. When they asked, he would only say: “You’ll find out when the time comes.”

As a result, the two of them looked forward to the day of the exams with mounting anticipation.

More and more people were coming to the capital, including those from the jianghu.

Qin Chuan saw many friends, but also many people with bad reputations. He would then relay this information to Qin Xiao, who could caution An Wuji to be more vigilant.

As the exam day grew closer, aside from practicing horseback riding at the city garrison, the students rarely left Clear Sky Tower, where they spent all day discussing the questions that might be asked and possible exam formats.

Since they had all been confirmed as Imperial Academy students, and many of them were Believer candidates who appeared in Chu Jiubian’s cards, the quality of their character was guaranteed. The students got along exceedingly well, and grew very close through their discussions.

Before they even officially became “classmates,” these sixty-five people had already formed bonds.

And so, amidst the bustle, everything proceeded in an orderly fashion.

It was the first day of the third month of the second year of Jingrui.

The long-awaited palace examination had arrived.

---

T/N: Ah, some good old-fashioned face-slapping. You love to see it.

---

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Chapter 81 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 83

Ch 37 – Friends?

Tau had been acting strange lately. Kersz claimed that Yu Xi was about to make his second friend, but Yu Xi felt that Kersz’s judgment was flawed.

He felt no urge to become closer to Tau.

Kersz was quite surprised to hear this: “You don’t feel the urge?” He still thought that Yu Xi really wanted to spend time with Tau.

“No.” Yu Xi shook his head. “When I look at him, I don’t feel any particular urge to get to know him.”

Could this be right?

Kersz pondered the situation deeply, and subsequently felt that Yu Xi had already come to understand Tau very well.

Besides, Yu Xi had been curious enough to ask about Tau’s past.

How could that possibly be considered a lack of interest?

Kersz found the recent interactions between Yu Xi and Tau rather amusing. Tau was always engrossed in caring for his little dinosaur, and Yu Xi would sometimes run over to watch him. After some time passed, Tau would then invite him to touch Xiao Konglong.

Kersz, however, received no such treatment, and Tau remained on guard any time he approached.

Kersz was very helpless, and was unable to figure out why Tau was so wary of him. Was it because he always used Xiao Konglong to threaten him?

That Tau was just too petty.

He categorized Yu Xi’s remark about having ‘no urge to get to know him’ as mere shyness, a desire to preserve a little bit of pride.

However, Kersz soon realized that this was not the case. Yu Xi truly felt no need to get closer to Tau.

*

*

Yu Xi woke up in the middle of the night. He glanced at the ceiling, then the window, and finally let his gaze settle upon Kersz.

It felt so good to wake up and find his friend lying beside him.

Yu Xi reached out and gave Kersz a poke, which elicited a couple of snuffles.

Yu Xi’s eyes lit up faintly.

He had been unable to forget the shock he felt when Kersz called out his name in the bathroom. His ears had tingled, and he’d felt as if his very energy had gone soft with the sensation.

Never before had he known that a friend could be such a joyful thing.

Yu Xi’s hand touched Kersz’s lips.

It was from these very lips that Kersz had called out Yu Xi’s name. Yu Xi felt as if he was rediscovering the joy of the human language.

“Humans speak by opening their mouths.” Yu Xi parted Kersz’s lips and teeth and proceeded to examine the interior of his mouth.

Then he reached farther to touch his throat.

“Gah!” Kersz jolted awake.

He opened his eyes and sat up, letting out a rather dazed “Eh?”

Then he glanced at Yu Xi beside him. He had wrapped himself up like a silkworm cocoon and appeared to be sleeping soundly.

Kersz touched his throat. He had been having a rather unsavory dream tonight.

He’d started out in a cornfield, picking ears of corn and reveling in the joy of the harvest, when suddenly, Yu Xi popped out from among the stalks and asked if he wanted to see his breathing lights.

Then he felt something in his throat, which triggered his gag reflex.

It was only…..how had the gag reflex he experienced in the dream carried over into reality?

Yu Xi lay with his back to Kersz, his eyes open in narrow slits.

He felt a bit nervous. But he had covered himself with exceptional speed, so Kersz likely hadn’t noticed that anything was amiss.

Yu Xi waited, listening to Kersz’s heartbeat. He felt thoroughly spooked, and decided that he would never dare to sneakily touch Kersz again.

Humans seemed to have a curious button which, once touched, would suddenly power them on.

Kersz seemed to stir. Clutching the blanket, Yu Xi squeezed his eyes completely shut.

A moment later, he felt Kersz stroke his head. He drew closer to Yu Xi, but did nothing more.

Kersz simply watched him for a moment, then reached out and patted him.

Yu Xi would never mess with this human again. His reactions were just too terrifying.

Especially if he were to be caught with his fingers down his throat…..

Kersz would definitely be angry.

Huh? Kersz’s heartbeat had slowed down.

He had fallen asleep.

Yu Xi, who had just sworn to never touch this human sneakily again, abruptly spun around and fixed his eyes on Kersz once more.

Just one more poke.

Yu Xi extended a finger and poked Kersz.

Come to think of it, where exactly had he pressed just now to wake Kersz up?

“Gah!” Kersz jolted awake again and clutched his mouth.

He frowned and looked at Yu Xi, who was lying beside him.

Yu Xi was frightened again. He really shouldn’t have messed with this human a second time.

This time, rather than giving him a gentle tap, Kersz called out to Yu Xi. But he received no response.

“Are you touching me in secret?” Kersz asked.

Yu Xi still didn’t respond.

Kersz wanted to fake being asleep in order to lull Yu Xi into a false sense of security, but he knew that the robot could tell when he was faking it. Yu Xi could even sense the depth of his sleep.

But there was still one more way to catch Yu Xi.

Kersz rose and went to the bathroom. Once inside, he let out a few soft groans, but rather than turning his back to the door, he faced it directly.

A moment later, the door was indeed quietly pushed open. A pair of cyan eyes furtively shifted toward the crack, meeting Kersz’s gaze head-on.

Yu Xi: …..

Yu Xi exchanged a silent glance with Kersz. Then, acting as if nothing had happened, he backed away and closed the door.

Kersz followed him out, only to find that Yu Xi was already in bed feigning sleep, as if he hadn’t been secretly peeping on him just now.

Kersz abruptly pinned Yu Xi beneath him and cupped his face in both hands. “Did you just stick something down my throat?”

Yu Xi remained motionless.

“This behavior of yours is going a bit too far,” Kersz reproached him.

Yu Xi trembled.

“If you want me to help you, you can just say so, ah.” Kersz knew that his previous interaction with Yu Xi’s breathing light down there had embarrassed him. But no matter how embarrassed he was, it gave him no right to take advantage of Kersz in his sleep and do such things in return.

“I personally don’t mind my face being dirtied, but I do mind you doing something like this behind my back.” Kersz’s tone turned serious.

Yu Xi suddenly realized that Kersz had misunderstood something, and nervously opened his eyes: “I touched it with my finger.”

Kersz: “Ah?”

“I suddenly felt that human vocal chords were truly fascinating. Your voice sounded exceptionally beautiful when you called my name, so I just wanted to reach out and touch the spot that produced such a lovely sound,” Yu Xi explained cautiously.

Kersz: …..

Yu Xi: “Did you think I…..”

“I just thought you were using your hand,” Kersz cut in.

Yu Xi: “But you mentioned dirtying your face, and then you said I wanted you to help me…..”

Kersz: “To help you understand the structure of the human throat.”

Yu Xi sensed that something was off. Kersz’s heartbeat had sped up again, and his face was turning red. “But touching your throat wouldn’t dirty your face, ah. The last time it got dirty was because…..”

“Do you still want to touch it?” Kersz interrupted him again.

Yu Xi’s attention was finally diverted: “Can I?!”

“There’s no reason why not.” Kersz had no desire to delve deeper into this misunderstanding.

“T-then lay back down.” Yu Xi was excited. “I’m simply the luckiest robot ever. I have the best friend in the world!”

Upon hearing the word “friend,” Kersz felt even more ashamed.

He lay down flat on the bed, and Yu Xi’s fingers brushed his lips.

Yu Xi ran his fingers over them softly, as if savoring the soft texture.

After feeling his lips to his heart’s content, he then moved on to Kersz’s teeth, followed immediately by his tongue and the roof of his mouth.

Then, as Yu Xi slowly moved deeper inside, Kersz’s throat constricted slightly.

“Are you uncomfortable? I’ll take it slow.” Yu Xi touched Kersz’s forehead, then kissed the space between his eyebrows.

Kersz tilted his head back. This sensation wasn’t comfortable.

He and Yu Xi looked at each other.

Those cyran eyes truly resembled the surface of a beautiful lake, and at this moment, the faint discomfort made Kersz feel as if he had fallen into the depths of that lake, sinking deeper and deeper. Suffocating.

…..A blissful suffocation that made him wish he could dissolve into the water completely, never to emerge again.

A short while later, Kersz ended up going to the bathroom anyway.

Yu Xi stealthily trailed behind him, worried that he would lock eyes with Kersz again this time too.

But his intense curiosity ultimately overcame his apprehension, and he furtively pushed the door open just enough to make a narrow crack.

This time, Kersz’s back was turned to him, his eyes pointed away.

But why, exactly, had feeling Kersz’s mouth caused him to react this way?

Hadn’t Kersz said that he had no interest in carnal desires?

After all, he was still a young man, ah.

Yu Xi watched with a sense of wonder, feeling a strange, inexplicable happiness.

And his exhilaration grew, especially after discovering that the little noises he inadvertently made would send Kersz’s heart racing.

*

*

“Did you know? Being friends means trusting one another without reservation,” Yu Xi shared with Tau. “Close friends will even invite each other to touch the inside of their mouths.”

To the side, Kersz covered his face.

Tau felt that something wasn’t right: “I’ve played the part of a friend before, but I didn’t have to open my mouth for them.”

“Those were just casual acquaintances, not close friends,” Yu Xi said with a wave of his hand.

Tau fell deep into thought: “I’ve never seen close friends do something like that.”

“Of course you haven’t. After all, you weren’t involved in their relationships.” Yu Xi felt that his own experience had surpassed Tau’s. “This is just a small bit of happiness between friends. They wouldn’t do it right in front of you.”

So these guys were really that close?

Tau still had some doubts, but Yu Xi seemed so confident that Tau began to wonder if he was actually right about this.

“Then do close friends do anything else?” Tau humbly sought advice.

“They also call out each other’s names to gain a sense of security,” Yu Xi said.

Tau stared at Yu Xi, who raised his head confidently.

“In what kind of situation?” Tau couldn’t figure out why a friend would frequently call out the other person’s name.

“It’s a secret.” There were some things that Yu Xi wouldn’t share. He wanted to savor them slowly, all to himself.

See? He had just said that he and Tau weren’t friends, and that he had no desire to become close to him.

His desire to get closer to Kersz, on the other hand, was very intense.

“Are you sure that’s friendship?” Hearing such a description, Tau felt that this was more like two confused individuals hooking up under the guise of friendship.

“It’s friendship.”

What pure friendship, ah.

---

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Chapter 36 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 38

Ch. 108 – Rakshasa

“Is that…..Shixiong?” Fang Yang murmured. He first took in the sight of the two men facing each other, then focused on the Asura who had just defeated the three-headed dog.

He was much slower to react than Hao Chen, and only now realized that the outfit looked slightly familiar. Although the pattern was obscured by bloodstains, he could still faintly make out that it was the same garment Feng Ye had been wearing.

Fang Yang spoke in a hushed tone. The current situation was fraught with tension. Both wearing ghostly masks, the Asura and Rakshasa stared each other down, ready to erupt into violence at any moment.

As powerful evil spirits, they were equally matched and couldn’t afford the slightest mistake. They were focused entirely on each other, and didn’t spare a single thought for their surroundings.

Hao Chen was standing a distance away, so the only one who heard Fang Yang was Cao Zirui, who was standing directly beside him.

Cao Zirui froze when he heard this and stared in shock at the Asura. This….was Feng Ye?

This terrifying, blood-drenched man was actually Feng Ye?

Although the Path of Carnage was not technically an evil path, this Asura nonetheless had an edge on the Path of the Underworld’s Rakshasa when it came to his frightening appearance.

Unlike Feng Ye’s bloodsoaked clothes, the Rakshasa was far cleaner. He exuded hardly any killing intent, but he didn’t possess a human presence either.

Speaking of which, where had this Rakshasa come from?

Cao Zirui fell into deep thought. Wang Wu, Zhao Yi, and that wolfdog were all figures they had encountered previously, and had been living right here in the vicinity of the ancient ruins. It was no surprise that they had been swept into the Grand Array, but this Rakshasa had appeared out of nowhere.

Unless….. A guess flashed through Cao Zirui’s mind. What if the activation of this Grand Array wasn’t an accident, but a trap?

And such a trap had been set at the very site of the Living Soil. It seemed that the enemy’s only objective could be…..Cao Zirui clutched the small jar hanging from his waist.

Jianmu.

The enemy had come for Jianmu. And the Rakshasa standing before them was likely the mastermind behind the activation of the Grand Array. It was even conceivable that he was the one involved in Xue Ren’s rebellion.

Just who was this person?!

Cao Zirui’s mind raced, and he fixed his gaze intently on the Rakshasa, the man who might be behind it all.

Although his shixiong had ultimately chosen the path of rebellion due to his own flawed character, the individual who lured him step by step into that abyss was equally unforgivable!

Brimming with rage, Cao Zirui automatically took a step forward, intending to confront that person. But he realized after that single step that in his current state, he was no match for the opponent.

He didn’t continue forward, but that one step had already been taken.

The sole of his boot made a soft sound where it scuffed the earth.

Though faint, the sound echoed in the confined space, and hearing it inevitably diverted a fraction of everyone’s focused attention.

This was their chance!

The two masked men struck simultaneously. Their movements were as swift as tigers pouncing upon their prey, so fast that they were a blur, and all one was able to perceive were the successive clangs of their swords clashing.

In the blink of an eye, they exchanged more than a dozen lethal moves.

Neither side held back. This wasn’t a sparring match, but a fight to the death!

Their swords danced in a dazzling display under the candlelight as the two opponents sought openings and launched attacks. Their movements were already too swift for the naked eye to track, and the speed, power, and even the angles of their strikes represented the absolute limits of the human physique.

The iron longswords in their hands seemed as if they were organs inherent to the human body. The two wielded them with effortless precision, as if they were an extension of their own arms.

Fang Yang watched with wide, astonished eyes as the two of them exchanged moves. During the martial arts tournament before the Floating Island Secret Realm, he had already realized that although his Useless Shixiong’s cultivation was abysmal, his swordsmanship far surpassed that of the average person.

But that was the extent of it. Although Feng Ye had demonstrated an exceptional mastery of swordsmanship when facing off against Lu Chengye, there was nothing else particularly remarkable about his performance, and the sword moves he utilized were very basic.

That was not the case now. He struck from angles that Fang Yang had thought were impossible. As a sword cultivator himself, Fang Yang watched them exchange blows and found himself imagining what it would be like if he was part of the fight.

He might…..not even be able to block one strike.

Before watching Feng Ye wield his sword, it had never crossed his mind that the weapon could be used in such a manner, and naturally had no idea how to defend against it.

Feng Ye’s swordsmanship was crafty and unpredictable, at times fierce and forceful, and at others smooth and fluid. He was able to shift seamlessly between a number of swordsmanship styles, and concealed within these feints and stratagems were lethal strikes meant to kill.

His Useless Shixiong…..was a true master of swordsmanship.

Fang Yang thought this in stunned silence. Then he suddenly realized: his Useless Shixiong was already this formidable, and judging by his swordsmanship alone, there was perhaps not a second person in the world who could match him. Yet this Rakshasa that had appeared out of nowhere was actually able to fight Feng Ye on equal footing, refusing to yield even an inch?

Could it be that sword-fighting prodigies were now everywhere under the sky?

Of course not. 

Cao Zirui was also watching the fight in shock, though his disbelief came from a different source. He wasn’t affected by the mastery of swordsmanship on both sides, but that Rakshasa’s moves…..seemed vaguely familiar.

No, they didn’t just seem familiar. They truly were. After repeated verification, Cao Zirui was entirely certain that this was Lingxiao Swordsmanship, a technique created by Ling Yun, the sect leader of Lingxiao Sword Sect one hundred years ago.

In this world, there should be nobody other than Cao Zirui himself who knew this sword technique. Not even his master, Ji Chengyue, was able to use it.

Ling Yun himself was the only exception.

But it was impossible. Ling Yun was already…..

Was he really dead? Cao Zirui came to the sudden realization that although the world at large believed that Ling Yun had perished in the heavenly fire, nobody had ever actually seen his corpse.

Could the person standing before him truly be…..

Cao Zirui was filled with shock and uncertainty, but found himself inwardly dismissing the notion. If this person was really Ling Yun, what possible reason could he have for turning his sword against them?

He was Ji Chengyue’s disciple, while Ling Yun was Ji Chengyue’s shixiong. Strictly speaking, he should address Ling Yun as “Shishu.”

And Feng Ye was also a disciple of Lingxiao Sword Sect. Although his fighting skills were suspiciously impressive, he was also a member of the sect. As the former sect leader, why would Ling Yun turn against his own people?

This Rakshasa cannot be Ling Yun, Cao Zirui reasoned.

He was so lost in thought that he completely failed to notice that somewhere in the shadow beneath his feet, a wisp of black mist had at some point slipped inside to lurk.

That black mist transformed into a slender venomous snake, and while Feng Ye and his party were focused intently on the battle, it coiled itself silently and imperceptively around Cao Zirui’s ankle.

Its dark, misty form had no weight to it whatsoever, and Cao Zirui was oblivious to the danger.

The venomous snake coiled inexorably upward, winding its way up Cao Zirui’s thigh until it reached his waist.

Serpentine eyes briefly scanned the surroundings, then locked onto the small jar hanging from Cao Zirui’s waist by a rope.

Its jaws parted, and a forked tongue flickered out. The venomous snake’s maw curved in a smile as it coiled up in preparation to lunge for the jar.

Feng Ye, locked in battle with the Rakshasa, suddenly whipped his head around. In one swift motion, he hurled the sword in his hand while dodging backward to avoid an attack from his opponent.

But he knew there was no way to avoid it entirely.

His opponent’s formidable strength had taken him by surprise. This was not arrogance on his part, because in this world, there were very few people capable of engaging him in a prolonged fight without yielding even an inch.

And now, there was this man in front of him.

In fact, Feng Ye even felt a hint of pressure under his opponent’s onslaught. But rather than making him pull back, the stronger his opponent fought, the fiercer his fighting spirit burned!

Yet even as his fighting spirit soared to new heights, he was forced to summon every shred of his energy for this battle. Because should his focus waver for even an instant, even the title “God of War” wouldn’t save him from defeat.

Defeat at the hands of a mortal.

But at this moment, he had no choice but to divert his attention. He absolutely could not allow that black snake to leave here with Jianmu!

His blade struck true, slamming into the black snake just as it attempted to slither into the jar. The passing of the blade also severed the rope that Cao Zirui had tied around the vessel.

The jar crashed to the ground, and amidst the crisp shattering of porcelain, a small handful of soil was laid bare before everyone’s eyes, along with the tender young seedling nested within it…..

The Jianmu seedling.

But there was another sound in addition to the shattering porcelain.

Feng Ye had left himself wide open after hurling the sword, his front completely exposed. And although he had dodged at just the right moment, his opponent would never allow such an opportunity to slip through his fingers. The blade of his sword thrust straight toward Feng Ye’s face.

Hao Chen had instinctively glanced toward the shattered jar before snapping his head back around to watch Feng Ye.

Feng Ye staggered back several steps. A distinct crack had appeared on the mask covering his face where the sword had sliced it.

The damaged ghost mask peeled away to reveal that familiar face.

Hao Chen breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was fine as long as his face wasn’t disfigured. Although this face wasn’t Feng Ye’s original one, after looking at it for so long, it would truly break his heart for it to be ruined by a scar.

Rather than attacking again, the Rakshasa remained in place, staring at Feng Ye across the distance.

Feng Ye also made no further moves after steadying himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced toward Jianmu and the sword he had just thrown.

The previously violent scene fell into silence once more.

It was only when Feng Ye hurled the sword at him that Cao Zirui realized with a jolt that an unwelcome intruder had somehow latched onto his waist, and he had nearly lost Jianmu to the black serpent.

Lingering tremors of shock rippled through his heart, and he took a moment to compose himself before realizing that Jianmu was still lying on the ground. He crouched down, reaching to pick up the seedling.

Cao Zirui’s movement shattered the stillness once more, and the instant he bent down, the Rakshasa attacked.

But this time, Feng Ye was unarmed.

With no time to think, Fang Yang spared no thought for the actual situation at hand or what that seedling might be, but simply snatched up the sword on the ground and shouted toward Feng Ye: “Shixiong, catch!”

Then he hurled the sword back to him.

Despite the somewhat imprecise trajectory of his throw, Feng Ye still managed to catch it. The instant the hilt landed in his grasp, he flipped it in one fluid motion and positioned the blade just in time to parry the sword arcing toward him.

After the parry, he exerted force in his shoulder and arm, sweeping aside the opponent’s blade to regain the initiative.

But the opponent was equally quick to react, constantly disrupting his offensive.

With no further distractions, they reverted to their previous state, trading blows back and forth with neither of them gaining the upper hand.

But as he watched this scene, Hao Chen narrowed his eyes.

At first, seeing that cold and ruthless look on Feng Ye’s face had made him think he had lost his sanity. Only later did he realize that this was not the case.

Feng Ye’s unleashed killing intent was solely aimed at this enemy who had not yet been dealt with.

This Rakshasa who had emerged from the Path of the Underworld.

He didn’t seem to be an incarnation of the serpent god, but more like one of his subordinates, or perhaps an accomplice.

The Rakshasa also seemed quite powerful, and could actually fight Feng Ye to a complete standstill. Yet even so, Hao Chen showed no signs of intervening.

For one thing, he had faith in Feng Ye and believed that he would emerge victorious. For another, when powerhouses clashed, if victory was achieved with the help of outside interference, there was no integrity in such a win. He imagined that Feng Ye would hate that.

Thus, Hao Chen kept his distance and didn’t step in to assist him.

However, there was also that black snake that had struck while Feng Ye was engaged in battle. It hadn’t entered the fight, but it had still succeeded in diverting Feng Ye’s attention and forcing him to throw his sword in a desperate attempt to help Cao Zirui.

It was precisely for this reason that Feng Ye had been struck by his opponent and had his mask shattered.

With a sharp swish, Hao Chen snapped his fan shut. This was now a two-against-one situation, so how could he possibly allow anyone to bully his dragon?

Hao Chen quietly shifted his position. When he found the right angle, he put his hands behind his back and drew out a pearl.

Then, in the brief interval when Feng Ye and the Rakshasa momentarily separated, he threw the pearl at the enemy without warning.

The man in the ghost mask sensed something approaching him, and despite not knowing what it was, he instinctively moved his sword to parry the sneak attack.

The sharp blade sliced straight through the pearl and severed it in two, but as he moved, he also completely exposed his undefended back to Feng Ye.

There was no room for distraction in the heat of battle. Feng Ye completely ignored Hao Chen’s movements, all of his focus and energy fixed upon the Rakshasa.

When he saw that the enemy’s back was exposed, Feng Ye didn’t think twice before raising his sword and thrusting it toward the other’s heart.

This was a lethal killing blow, with no chance of survival.

The sword’s tip pierced through the opponent’s clothes without a shred of resistance and continued forward straight through his chest.

The man in the ghost mask was impaled upon Feng Ye’s sword.

Fang Yang and the others were overjoyed, and believed Feng Ye had won.

Yet there was not the slightest trace of victory on Feng Ye’s face. Instead, his eyes widened as he stared in disbelief at the man whose heart he had just pierced.

The sensation of the blade slicing through fabric had transmitted to his hand through the body of the sword, yet he didn’t feel the characteristic drag of iron piercing through flesh.

The place where the other’s heart should be…..was empty…..

The man cast his gaze back toward Feng Ye.

Feng Ye stared blankly into the man’s eyes. In them he saw a pool of pitch-black, stagnant water, and beneath it, resentment like a tsunami that surged forth the moment this person laid eyes on him.

This person was…..

The name of this person had not yet surfaced in Feng Ye’s mind when he saw the blade thrusting toward him in a counterattack.

Since this person had no heart, piercing his chest hadn’t hurt him at all.

Feng Ye abruptly swung his sword. Heedless of the risk, he dodged the opponent’s attack and recklessly slashed at the ghost mask facing him.

After the exchange of blows, both sides took a few steps back.

Feng Ye’s arm bore a gash about an inch long, while the Rakshasa clutched at his face.

Fragments of the mask fell in a steady stream from his palm. As Feng Ye stared intently at the face revealed beneath the shattered mask, his grip on his sword slackened.

Ling Yun…..

Feng Ye finally uttered that name in the depths of his heart.

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Chapter 107 << Table of Contents >> Chapter 109