Chu Wanning was injured, and the three disciples were exhausted,
so once they reached the corridor outside the arsenal, Chu Wanning ordered
them to rest a while. No one spoke for a bit, either standing or sitting as they
inspected the injuries on themselves or one another and recovered their
strength.
That is, except for Xue Meng, who was staring at nothing with his head
drooping, seemingly lost in thought.
"Xue Meng…" Mo Ran murmured.
Xue Meng paid no heed to anyone else. He only walked stiffly over to
stand before Chu Wanning and look up. When he opened his mouth, his voice
was like shattered glass. "Shizun."
When Chu Wanning looked at him, he felt an urge to pet his tousled
hair, but in the end, he managed to push it down.
"The holy weapon I picked before, was it a fake?"
Chu Wanning was silent.
The rims of Xue Meng's eyes became even redder, and his eyes
themselves grew bloodshot. If not for the pride and stubbornness that kept
him upright, his tears would likely have fallen on the spot. "Does this mean
I'll never be able to claim a holy weapon?"
Chu Wanning closed his eyes with a sigh. The corridor was silent save
for his clear voice: "Silly child."
A single, "silly child," said with a helpless sigh, and the last of Xue
Meng's rationality crumbled. Unable to endure it any longer, he threw himself
into Chu Wanning's arms and, clinging to his waist, began to bawl.
"Shizun… Shizun…"
Failing to obtain a holy weapon from Jincheng Lake was tantamount to
forfeiting one's potential to rise in the cultivation world; it meant
surrendering one's chance to ever stand at the top. Everyone was well aware
of this. A mortal's powers were finite, and without a holy weapon, however
strong, a person was limited by their body of flesh and blood.
The young masters of the sects in the upper cultivation realm more or
less all possessed holy weapons that had been passed down to them by their
predecessors. Even though these weapons weren't perfectly compatible with
their spiritual energies, they were still considerably powerful. Among the
sects' young masters, Xue Meng alone had not received a holy weapon from
Jincheng Lake, as Xue Zhengyong and his brother had started from scratch.
And so, when Xue Meng had chosen to wield the Ancestral Sword
against the Heart-Pluck Willow and thereby destroyed them both, he had
essentially chosen to sacrifice his spirited ambitions to rise above everyone
else.
Chu Wanning didn't ask him anything and didn't say any more. He only
held Xue Meng and stroked his hair as the boy cried it out.
Xue Meng had grown up pampered, never really suffering any
injustice. He spent all his days arrogantly strutting about, and ever since he
was old enough to remember, he had never once cried. But at this moment,
tears streaked down his youthful face, and his every word came out broken
like the holy weapon he would never have—like the lionhearted aspirations
that he had once thought were a sure thing. All of them lay shattered.
"Xue Meng." Chu Wanning held his disciple in his arms, consoling
him.
The waves at the bottom of the lake rippled past Chu Wanning's white
cloak and his long, inky hair. In that instant, Mo Ran could see aught but for
his fine curtain of lashes lowering over the fragments of gentle light beneath
them. Then the waves picked up, ruffling hair and garment, and he could no
longer see Chu Wanning's face clearly in the dim light. He could only hear
him say, "Don't cry. You're already great."
His voice wasn't quite gentle, but when those words came from Chu
Wanning's mouth, they were indescribably soft.
In the corridor, they had all fallen silent as they each dwelt on their
own thoughts.
Mo Ran leaned against the ice-cold wall, watching Chu Wanning hold
Xue Meng and pat his shoulder, and his own heart felt heavy.
On this journey to Jincheng Lake, they'd come all fresh and energized.
Now they were leaving laden with wounds.
Xue Meng had been the darling of the heavens for fifteen years, well regarded and high-spirited. In the span of a single day, his future had
collapsed upon itself.
From here on out, he would have to spend the rest of his lengthy life
striving to forget these fifteen years of blazing glory.
As they escaped from the arsenal, they saw the Heart-Pluck Willow
buckling slowly into the crucible like an ancient colossus finally exhausted.
Like the death of a gentle giant, or the demise of the sun itself. The remaining
merfolk scattered in fright.
The holy weapon arsenal that had stood for millions of years was
destroyed in an instant. The celestial tree fell with a deafening rumble and set
off a surging tide throughout Jincheng Lake. Faced with the enormous
whirlpool that resulted from it, the merfolk assumed their larger original
forms in an attempt to weather the storm. Jincheng Lake was instantly filled
with glimmering scales, with little room left for mere mortals.
"We can't get out this way!" Mo Ran shouted.
As he spoke, a thick sea dragon's tail smashed toward him. Mo Ran
swiftly moved aside, barely managing to dodge.
A black dragon suddenly swooped forward, larger than all the others,
its blue-black scales shimmering with a golden sheen.
"Wangyue?!" Mo Ran yelled, startled.
Wangyue let out a mighty roar, and the mute dragon spoke with a voice
low like the chime of a great clock, "Climb on my back. With the destruction
of the Heart-Pluck Willow, Jincheng Lake is soon to follow. Quickly! I will
ferry you away!"
They didn't know if Wangyue was friend or foe, but having no other
options, they could only do as instructed. Wangyue carried the four of them
and surged through the perilous waves that were filled with thousands of
dragons, the waters parting in his wake.
"Hold on tight!"
This was the ancient dragon's only warning before he lunged out of the
lake and soared into the skies. The pressure hit his passengers like a ton of
bricks, the flow of water like a thousand galloping horses against their
bodies. They couldn't open their eyes, could hardly breathe, as they
desperately clung with all their might to the dragon's back in order to not be
flung into the lake.
By the time they could open their eyes again, they were high above
Jincheng Lake and soaring through the clouds at the summit of Dawning Peak.
Droplets of water flew off of the dragon's large, mirrored scales, and the
spray turned into countless sparkles of light that manifested a rainbow in the
sky. Wangyue raised his head in a roar as color washed over the land.
Mo Ran heard Xue Meng's voice from behind him against the fierce
gale, full of excitement. He was indeed young, after all, and easily distracted
from his worries. "Oh my god! I'm flying! On a dragon!"
Wangyue circled above Dawning Peak, gradually shrinking in size
while descending. He landed on the bank of Jincheng Lake at less than half
his original magnitude—so as to not crush the surrounding rocks and
vegetation. The dragon stayed quietly in place while they dismounted.
When they turned to look toward Jincheng Lake, they saw that the thick
frozen surface had melted. Waves churned and scattered fragments of ice.
The first light of dawn lent the eastern skies a pure-white hue, and sunlight
spilled into Jincheng Lake with a brilliant glimmer.
"Look at the dragons in the lake!" Shi Mei cried.
The dragons twisted and coiled in the waters, rising and falling with
the waves, until they gradually stopped moving, at which point they crumbled
one after another and turned into so many specks of dust. Black chess pieces
floated up from the surface and gathered in midair.
"The Zhenlong Chess Formation…" Mo Ran muttered.
Everything in the lake, from the sea dragons to the Heart-Pluck
Willow, had been under the control of the Zhenlong Chess Formation. All that
had transpired below had been a match devised by someone hiding in the
shadows.
Mo Ran shuddered. Something was off about this reborn era. Certain
events were occurring earlier than they should have, and for no apparent
reason.
In his previous life, he was certain that no one had been able to
command the Zhenlong Chess Formation with such mastery at the time when
he had been sixteen. Just who was this fake Gouchen?
"Wangyue!" Xue Meng cried out.
Mo Ran turned only to see Wangyue crouching on the ground,
unmoving. While no black chess piece emerged from his body, he appeared
extremely weak, his eyes half-closed.
"You lot…did well… It's far preferable to see our Exalted God
Gouchen's Jincheng Lake destroyed, than to…to see it fall into the hands of a
villain…"
When Wangyue finished speaking, his body began to glow with golden
light, and when the light subsided, he had assumed human form.
"It was you?!" Mo Ran and Xue Meng exclaimed simultaneously.
The Wangyue before them was the very same elderly, white-haired
merman who had led them to the holy weapon arsenal. Wangyue lifted his
head, a hint of guilt in his eyes. "It was me."
Xue Meng was shocked. "Y-you—why did you lead us to the arsenal?
Do you mean us help or harm? If you mean harm, then why have you brought
us ashore? But if you mean to help—if we hadn't passed the Heart-Pluck
Willow's trial, wouldn't we have…"
Wangyue looked down, and his voice was hoarse as he said, "Please
accept my apologies. Circumstances being what they were, there was naught
else I could do. The false Gouchen's own cultivation is insufficient, and he
relied wholly on the Heart-Pluck Willow's spiritual power to wield the
forbidden technique. The only way to dispel his magic was to overcome the
Heart-Pluck Willow. I had no choice but to vest my hope in the four of you."
Chu Wanning shook his head slightly, then walked over to Wangyue
and began channeling spiritual energy to heal his injuries.
Wangyue let out a long sigh. "Daozhang is kind, but there is no need. It
is my time. I am no different from the other creatures of the lake; I subsisted
on the Heart-Pluck Willow's spiritual energy. Now that it has fallen, I am not
long for this world."
Chu Wanning remained silent.
Wangyue continued, "The order of life and death cannot be altered. I
have lived to see the nightmare of Jincheng Lake broken, so my wish is
fulfilled. But I am full of remorse for having involved you in these perils."
"It's no matter," Chu Wanning said. After a pause, he asked, "Do you
know the identity of the pretender, and what he wants?"
"I do not know his identity," Wangyue replied. "However, his goal
was most likely to obtain the Heart-Pluck Willow's power in order to
command the three forbidden techniques."
"The forbidden techniques require an incredible amount of spiritual
energy," Chu Wanning muttered. "They would indeed be much easier to
master with the help of an ancient tree spirit."
"Yes, that man said as much. He also said that while ancient spirits are
immensely powerful, they are extremely difficult to find. The only one whose
location can be traced from the ancient records was the Heart-Pluck Willow.
"The intruder appeared only recently, and after taking control of
Jincheng Lake, he spent all his time at the bottom of its depths, using the
Heart-Pluck Willow's power to practice the forbidden techniques of
'Rebirth' and the 'Zhenlong Chess Formation.'"
Wangyue sighed, his eyes somewhat empty and dull.
Mo Ran felt his heart drop. Sure enough, this trip to Jincheng Lake had
been entirely different from the one in his past life, and everything that had
caused the changes had taken place not long ago. Just what was going wrong
to make these events change course?
"He lacked the strength to control living beings, so he killed
innumerable creatures in the lake and attempted to control the dead instead.
He managed this, and in a mere few weeks' time, he had slaughtered
practically all who lived in the lake and turned them into chess pieces. He
left only a few alive to experiment on, myself included."
"When you came out of the water to meet me, were you being
controlled by the fake Gouchen?" Mo Ran asked.
"No." Wangyue slowly closed his eyes. "He may be able to control the
others, like the fox spirit or even the Heart-Pluck Willow, but he cannot
control me. I am a spirit beast who was tamed by Gouchen the Exalted at the
creation of the world, millennia ago. When I submitted to being his steed, I
was branded with his seal on my inverted scale,
1
and thus I shall be loyal to
one master only in life and in death."
"Then why did you…"
"It was an act; I had no choice." Wangyue sighed. "The intruder may
not have been able to totally control me, but the brand of Gouchen the
Exalted is millions of years old, its effectiveness a mere fraction of its
original potency. A portion of my body fell under the fake Gouchen's
influence—the reason I was mute at our first meeting was because the
pretender had control of my throat. Only when his magic was dispelled was I
able to speak again."
"Did that fake Gouchen know you were pretending?" asked Mo Ran.
"I doubt it." Wangyue looked to Mo Ran. "He planned to take your
spiritual core today, in order to extend the Heart-Pluck Willow's life. He
didn't anticipate that I would bring you back to the holy weapon arsenal to
destroy the ancient willow, and he took no precautions against my
interference."
"Perhaps it's not that he did not take precautions against you," Chu
Wanning suddenly suggested, "but rather that he didn't have the strength to
spare for any such thing."
"What does Daozhang mean?"
"There's another odd thing about this pretender."