When Mo Ran came to, he discovered that he was still inside the
holy weapon arsenal. It seemed he had been asleep for a long while, but
when he opened his eyes, he found that not much time had passed. In fact,
everything he had just endured might have passed in the blink of an eye.
He didn't know if it was because the spell had been successfully
broken, but when he woke, he found he was lying on the ground without a
single injury. That savage wound, that blood and gore—they were nothing
more than a nightmare. They had left not a trace on his body.
Despite himself, Mo Ran was both surprised and delighted. Then he
looked over to Shi Mei. He didn't know when Shi Mei had lost
consciousness, but he was also free from harm.
Was it possible that, after Shi Mei passed the Exalted Gouchen's trial,
Gouchen had not only broken the illusion, but had healed the wounds they had
received within it?
Hm… Although when Mo Ran thought about it, it wasn't like Gouchen
the Exalted wanted to hurt them, just test them. So this made sense. All the
same, it didn't feel real to Mo Ran, and he still felt like he'd barely escaped
with his life.
Among the four of them, he was the first to wake. The next to rise was
Shi Mei. At the sight of Shi Mei's lashes slowly fluttering open, Mo Ran was
overjoyed. "Shi Mei!" he exclaimed eagerly. "We're all right! Quite all right!
Quick, look at me!"
Within Shi Mei's gaze there was, at first, a flash of confusion. Then he
gradually became more lucid, and his eyes abruptly widened. "A-Ran?! You
—"
Before he could finish, Mo Ran wrapped him in a tight embrace.
Shi Mei couldn't help but be taken aback, but he gently patted Mo
Ran's shoulder and said hesitantly, "What's with you?"
"I'm sorry that I made you suffer so."
Shi Mei was perplexed. "Well, it wasn't really anything. I just had a
dream, that's all."
"But the pain was real!" Mo Ran protested.
"What pain?" Shi Mei asked.
Just then, Xue Meng also woke. There was no telling what dreams
he'd had, but as he shot up, he yelled, "Insolent ruffian! How dare you feel
me up!"
At the sight of him rising, Shi Mei walked over. "Young master."
"Huh… You? Why are you here?" Xue Meng apparently thought he
was still dreaming.
Mo Ran was in a great mood, and consequently his attitude toward
Xue Meng was rather soft. He smiled as he gave an account of the events that
had just unfolded. Only then did reality dawn on Xue Meng.
"So it was a dream… And here I thought…" In order to hide his
awkwardness, Xue Meng cleared his throat. At that moment, he discovered
that Chu Wanning, typically the most powerful among them, was still asleep,
not yet roused. He was astonished in spite of himself. "How come Shizun
hasn't woken up?"
The trio approached to examine Chu Wanning's wounds. Chu Wanning
had been injured before the illusion activated, and Gouchen the Exalted's
trial only healed those injuries suffered within the illusion. Thus his shoulder
was still soaked in a great deal of blood, making it a shocking sight.
Mo Ran sighed. "Let's wait a bit longer."
It took about half an hour before Chu Wanning finally came to. He
slowly opened his phoenix eyes, and when he woke, his gaze was empty and
cold, as if veiled by the thick blanket of white left by a heavy snow. It was a
long time before his eyes moved, and they fell upon Mo Ran.
However, like Xue Meng, it seemed that for the time being, he hadn't
completely freed himself of his dream. Chu Wanning gazed at Mo Ran, then
slowly reached out, his voice cracking. "You…"
"Shizun," Mo Ran said.
Upon hearing Mo Ran call him thus, Chu Wanning's hand paused in
midair. A trace of warmth finally seemed to appear on his pale face, and his
eyes also suddenly brightened. "Mn…"
"Shizun!" Xue Meng shoved Mo Ran aside and threw himself at Chu
Wanning to clutch his hand. "Are you all right? Are you feeling better?
Shizun, it took you so long to wake up—I was going to die from worry!"
When Chu Wanning saw Xue Meng, he was slightly bemused. Then the
thin layer of fog in his eyes gradually faded. Now that he could take a closer
look at Mo Ran, he saw that while Mo Ran was looking back at him, he was
holding Shi Mei's hand tightly. He had never let go, not for a second.
The sight gave Chu Wanning pause, and as he more fully woke, his
expression cooled. Then, like a fish in a dried-up pond, it utterly died.
"Shizun, are you all right?" Shi Mei asked, concerned. "Does your
shoulder hurt?"
"I'm fine," Chu Wanning replied tranquilly. "It doesn't hurt."
With Xue Meng's assistance, he slowly stood. Mo Ran was a little
puzzled. Chu Wanning had hurt his shoulder, so why was he stepping so
gingerly as he rose, like it was his feet that had been injured?
Mo Ran, assuming that Chu Wanning didn't know what had happened
in the illusion, once again offered a brief account.
When Shi Mei had first heard the tale, he'd thought that something
about it wasn't right. Now that he heard it again, he felt even more perplexed.
Unable to hold back, he said, "A-Ran, you say I was the one who saved
you?"
"Yeah."
Shi Mei was quiet for a moment, then said slowly, "But I…I was
dreaming the whole time. I never woke up."
Mo Ran was taken aback, but he immediately laughed. "Stop joking
around."
"I'm not joking," Shi Mei said. "I dreamed… I dreamed about my
mom and dad. They were still alive. That dream was so real, I didn't think…
I didn't think I could leave them behind. I really—"
He didn't finish before Chu Wanning said mildly, "That's not so
strange. Gouchen probably wiped your memory of rescuing him. Either way,
neither myself nor Xue Meng did it, and since he said it was you who did,
then it must be so."
Shi Mei fell silent.
"Otherwise, what? Do you think Gouchen has a means by which to
swap people's souls?" Chu Wanning asked coldly.
Chu Wanning hadn't wanted to suffer all that for nothing, and he had
originally intended to tell Mo Ran the truth. He'd furthermore hoped that Mo
Ran would realize that the person within the illusion hadn't been Shi Mei, but
Chu Wanning, with whom his heart had been switched. However, when Mo
Ran confessed his feelings to Shi Mei at the end, it had become too
embarrassing for Chu Wanning to bear.
When Chu Wanning woke, he had gazed into Mo Ran's bright black
eyes. For a moment, Chu Wanning had thought that perhaps, deep in his heart,
Mo Ran did care for him, even if just a little.
It was such a modest and unassuming hope, a vulnerable thought that
only dared to surface quietly, and after a long, long stretch of time.
As it turned out, it had all been in his head. The blood Chu Wanning
had bled, the injuries he'd suffered, Mo Ran knew nothing of them—and
neither was there a need for him to know.
Chu Wanning wasn't stupid. Even if Mo Ran didn't say anything, it
was easy to see just how much he treasured the gentle and beautiful person
beside him. Why would Mo Ran ever turn his gaze toward Chu Wanning,
who stood in the corner like a puppet covered in dust?
Yet even when he'd heard the words, "I've always liked you," pass
Mo Ran's lips, Chu Wanning had still felt like he'd conclusively lost. That he
had suffered an unmistakably miserable defeat.
To Mo Ran, that embrace within an illusion had been charity that Shi
Mei bestowed upon him. Mo Ran would never, ever know that this embrace
had instead been charity that he bestowed upon another pitiful soul.
Chu Wanning had never believed that Mo Ran would ever like him in
that way, so he had done his best to suppress his own feelings. He never
acted on them, never disturbed them, never went near them.
Reckless affection and passionate, obsessive entanglements, these
things only grew in the soil of youth. When Chu Wanning was young, he'd
also hoped there might be someone who would stay by his side, with whom
he might share wine beneath the moon, but he'd waited and waited, and still
this person had never arrived. Later, as time passed day by day, his
reputation within the cultivation world had climbed higher and higher, and
everyone had placed him on a pedestal. While they greatly admired him,
they'd kept their distance and called him cold-hearted. Eventually, he'd come
to accept the pedestal as well as the cold heart.
It was as if he was hiding in a cocoon, and time was continuously
spinning silk around him. At first, he had still seen some light from the
outside seeping through the walls, but year after year, there was more and
more silk, and the cocoon grew thicker and thicker, so much so that he could
no longer see the light. Within the cocoon there was only himself, and the
darkness.
Chu Wanning didn't believe in love, nor in chance encounters, and he
certainly didn't want to go chasing after any such thing. If he were to
arduously gnaw through the cocoon, getting cut and scraped all over in the
process, and come crawling clumsily out only to find no one waiting for him
on the other side—what would he do?
Perhaps he did like Mo Ran, but this boy was too young, too far out of
reach, and too fiery. Chu Wanning didn't want to get close, lest one day that
flame burn him to ashes.
Thus, any time he could take a step back, he did.
He didn't know where he had gone wrong. What had he done, for even
such a small daydream to be drowned by storming, frigid rain?
"Shizun, look over there, quick!"
Xue Meng's sudden startled cry brought Chu Wanning's mind back to
the present, and his gaze followed the call only to see that roaring molten
metal was again rolling in the crucible. The ancient tree spirit broke through
the waters once more, wreathed with flames. However, the tree spirit's eyes
were rolled back; it was obviously not in its right mind. In its hands, it held
that shimmering silver sword, the sacred blade of Gouchen the Exalted.
"Run! Quickly!" Chu Wanning barked.
There was no need to repeat himself. His disciples dashed toward the
exit.
The controlled tree spirit raised its head toward the sky and shrieked.
The iron chains that hung across his body rattled violently, clinking and
clanking. No one had spoken, but all four of them simultaneously heard a
voice in their ears:
Stop them. Not a single one shall escape.
"Someone's talking in my head!" Xue Meng cried out in dismay.
"Don't pay him any mind," Chu Wanning said. "It's the Heart-Pluck
Willow's technique: Temptation of the Heart! Just focus on escaping!"
Now that he said it, the rest remembered. The Heart-Pluck Willow had
warned them while he retained consciousness. Temptation of the Heart used
the greed and desire in people's hearts as bait to compel them to slaughter
one another.
Sure enough, the voice in Chu Wanning's ears hissed, Chu Wanning,
aren't you tired? Esteemed Zongshi, Yuheng of the Night Sky. Such a
distinguished individual, yet you're reduced to pining for your own
disciple in secret. You have given him much, and he's taken it all for
granted. He never had eyes for you—he only likes that gentle and beautiful
little shige. How pitiful.
Chu Wanning's face turned ashen. He furiously ignored the noise in his
ears and continued to run for the exit.
Come to my side and take up this Ancestral Sword, then kill Shi Mei
and no one will stand between you. Come to my side—I can help you
achieve your wish for your beloved to love only you. Come to my side…
"What a reprobate—get the hell out!" Chu Wanning snarled angrily.
The disciples were obviously also hearing the various enticements that
voice proposed. While their pace slowed, they fought the temptation. The
closer they got to the exit, the more the Heart-Pluck Willow seemed to thrash
in his madness. The hissing howls in their ears became practically gnarled.
Think it through! Once you're past that door, you'll never get
another chance!
The voices within their ears differed, but all shrieked sharply.
Chu Wanning, Chu Wanning, do you truly wish to be alone for the
rest of your days?
Mo Weiyu, I'm the only person in this world who knows where to
find the resurrection pill. Come to me, let me tell you—
Shi Mingjing, I know the desire that lies in the deepest recesses of
your heart—only I can help you!
Xue Ziming, the holy weapon you chose was a counterfeit! There is
only one weapon left in Jincheng Lake that was forged by Gouchen the
Exalted. Return and it's yours! Don't you desire a magnificent holy
weapon? Don't you wish to be the darling of the heavens? Without a holy
weapon, you'll never measure up to the rest! Come to me…
"Xue Meng!" Mo Ran suddenly realized that his cousin, who had been
running by his side, had disappeared. He whipped his head around only to
see Xue Meng's steps slowing until, eventually, they came to a stop. Xue
Meng was looking back to gaze at a silvery blue sacred sword, floating up
and down in the crucible.
Mo Ran's heart lurched. He knew how Xue Meng obsessed over holy
weapons. When the kid first realized that the weapon he'd received was a
forgery, he must've been crushed. The Heart-Pluck Willow really knew how
to hit below the belt, tempting him with the Ancestral Sword.
"Xue Meng, don't believe him. Don't go!"
"Young master, let's go," Shi Mei chimed in. "We're almost at the
exit!"
Looking lost, Xue Meng turned his head back and glanced at them. All
the while, the voice echoing in his head grew even more hypnotizing.
They're jealous of you. They don't want you to have a holy weapon.
Think about Mo Weiyu—he's already won his weapon, so of course he'd
rather you have nothing. You two are brothers, but if you fail to be his
better, then the position of honored leader of Sisheng Peak will naturally
fall to him.
"Shut up," Xue Meng muttered. In front of him, Mo Ran seemed to be
anxiously yelling something, but he couldn't hear anything distinctly. He
could only hug his head and cry out repeatedly, "You shut your mouth! Shut
up!"
Xue Ziming, no weapons suitable for you remain in the holy weapon
arsenal. If you give up the Ancestral Sword, in the future, you will have no
choice but to submit yourself in servitude to Mo Weiyu. When that time
comes, he will be your master. You will be obliged to kneel before him, to
obey his every command! Just think, if you kill him, none of that will come
to pass! Fratricide has recurred time and time again throughout history,
and he's only your cousin! Why should you hesitate? Come, allow me to
give you the sword…
"Xue Meng!"
"Young master!"
Xue Meng suddenly ceased his struggling, and his eyes shot open, his
pupils red.
Come to my side… You are the darling of the heavens… You are
worthy to lead an army of millions…
"Xue Meng!" Chu Wanning shouted sharply.
Come here… Only when you've become the leader of Sisheng Peak
will the lower cultivation world know peace… Think of those who suffer;
think of the injustices you have all suffered… Xue Ziming, let me help
you…
Unwittingly, Xue Meng had already approached the bubbling crucible.
The spirit of the Heart-Pluck Willow presented him with the Ancestral
Sword of Gouchen the Exalted. Bloody veins crawled across the whites of
its rolled eyes.
Very good. Take this sword and go. Stop them!
Xue Meng slowly raised his trembling hand and took that silvery blue
sacred blade.
Kill them. Kill Mo Weiyu. Quickly… Augghh!
Xue Meng abruptly unsheathed the longsword, the weapon a splendid
steel blossom in his hand. Then he swung, striking swiftly with a backhand
swing. The handsome visage of the darling of the heavens was brilliantly
reflected in the spiritual aura of the Ancestral Sword. Illuminated by the
shine of the blade, his eyes were clearer and brighter than ever before, and
not the least bit drunk on bloodlust.
This strike was directed not at Mo Ran. Rather, Xue Meng lunged
straight for the body of the Heart-Pluck Willow and pierced through its
abdomen.
Instantly, the earth juddered, and the ancient willow shook. The spell
was broken, and the interior of the holy weapon arsenal began to crack and
collapse.
Xue Meng panted harshly; he had used everything he had to break free
from the enchantment. He glared at the Heart-Pluck Willow, his young face
filled with youthful innocence and determination. In those shining eyes
gleamed both naivete and pride. There was more to the son of the phoenix
than mere martial prowess, after all.
"Don't you bewitch me—and don't even think about harming anyone
else." Xue Meng gasped as he finished and swiftly wrenched out the
longsword.
The astringent stench of blood erupted from the Heart-Pluck Willow.
As he slumped over in his dying moments, his consciousness returned to his
body, and the resentful energy within him was thoroughly dispersed.
The Heart-Pluck Willow clutched his chest and arduously steadied his
drooping body as he lifted his face. He opened then closed his mouth, and
while no voice escaped him, the movement of his lips was easily interpreted.
Thank…you…for…stopping…me…
The Heart-Pluck Willow's original body was a spirit of ancient times,
equal in power to the Ancestral Sword. Pitted against each other, both sword
and spirit had been damaged irrevocably. The spiritual aura of the Ancestral
Sword in Xue Meng's hand dimmed and wilted.
All at once, the form of this millennia-old tree spirit dissipated.
In an instant, millions of sparkles scattered into the crucible. They
danced and circled overhead like flowing and fluttering fireflies, their golden
shimmer bright, until finally they faded one by one, never to be seen again.
"Young master, come here, quickly!" Shi Mei called. "The arsenal is
going to collapse!"
The earth was still shaking. They couldn't stay for long.
Xue Meng looked back and gave the holy weapon arsenal a final
glance. Then he threw aside the destroyed Ancestral Sword with a clang and
left. Behind him, bricks and shingles cascaded down like a crashing
avalanche