Meanwhile, in Rufeng Sect's private room on the third floor, Ye
Wangxi stood tall and elegant by the intricately carved ornamental wooden
railing, eyebrows drawn tightly together and lips pressed into a thin line.
"Ye-gongzi, Elder Xu sent us here for that holy weapon. If you bid on
the Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast as well, I'm afraid we won't have enough
left…"
"It's fine. I'll use my own funds."
The attendants realized that Ye Wangxi had already made up his mind,
so they exchanged a couple of furtive glances but said nothing else.
"The starting bid is ten million gold," the Second Pavilion Master of
Xuanyuan Pavilion announced in her precise tones. "Ladies and gentlemen,
bidding is now open."
"Eleven million."
"Twelve million."
The commotion rose alongside the soaring price.
"Nineteen million!"
"I bid twenty-five million!"
When the bid shot up by six million in one go, quite a number of
cultivators sighed and sat down, shaking their heads. At this time, several
silver tabs floated down from the second-floor booths to the pavilion master.
She collected them from the air and nimbly fanned them out in her hand, a
price written on each one.
"The current highest bid…" She scanned the tabs, then announced
clearly, "From the Xuan booth: thirty-five million."
"Thirty-five million?!"
The crowd sucked in a cold breath and collectively turned to look at
the Xuan booth on the second floor. Lights glowed hazily from behind the
gentle drifting of the silver curtains, but there was no way to see what kind of
person was sitting inside.
"You could buy a whole palace on Rainbell Isle with that money."
"Whose bid was it? A little excessive, don't you think…"
"If they can throw around that kind of money, they've gotta be from one
of the ten great sects. I wonder which one?"
Chu Wanning's eyes were closed. When he heard the price,
he asked Mo Ran, "Did you bring enough money?"
"Absolutely not!" Meeting Song Qiutong was the last thing
Mo Ran had expected to happen here, and he only snapped out of his shock
when he heard Chu Wanning say this. "What does Shizun mean to do?" he
asked, alarmed.
"Buy her."
Mo Ran's eyes widened as he waved his hands frantically. "No way!
Don't do it, that woman will just be a burden. Where would we even put her?
We'd have to rent an extra horse when we traveled and book another room at
night. Nope, don't do it."
"Who said anything about bringing her along? I'll let her go after." Chu
Wanning opened his eyes and held out his hand with a straight face. "Give it
here."
Mo Ran clutched his money pouch. "I-I don't have any!"
"I'll repay you when we get back."
"This money is for the holy weapon!"
"Don't you already have Jiangui? What do you need another for? Hand
it over!"
Mo Ran had no words. He felt a headache coming on. This Song
Qiutong… When he'd met her in his past life, she had been a disciple of
Rufeng Sect, and he had been razing Rufeng Sect's cities to the ground. His
heart had clenched at the sight of her—she looked a little like Shi Mei—so
he'd spared her life. As time went on, she had proved herself to be clever
and docile, and her temperament had been rather similar to Shi Mei's as
well, so he had eventually made her his empress.
That had become one of Mo Ran's greatest regrets.
Chu Wanning and that kind heart of his, concealed by his cold exterior,
actually wanted to buy her. How could Mo Ran possibly allow that to
happen? Forget forty million gold, he wouldn't take this woman for four
coppers. As a matter of fact, even if they paid him forty million, he still
wouldn't take her!
They were stuck in a stalemate when a tab floated down from the third
floor. It was gold. A buyout tab!
The golden tab represented the highest possible bid at Xuanyuan
Pavilion. No price was written upon it, for the tab itself denoted fifty million
gold. Once this kind of bid was put down, no one had the means to keep
competing. Hence, "buyout" tab.
For a second, the crowd was dead silent—before it exploded in an
uproar.
"Rufeng Sect!"
"Rufeng Sect pulled out the buyout tab!"
Chu Wanning turned away from Mo Ran and his death grip on his
money pouch to look outside. They were at just the right angle to see the first
room on the third floor. Ye Wangxi didn't care for things like hiding his face.
He had pulled aside the snow moon silk curtains meant for secrecy ages ago
and was standing by the carved railing with his hands clasped lightly behind
his back. His expression was solemn, and his handsome face betrayed
nothing. He glanced down at the ruckus below, seemed somewhat
aggravated, and turned to walk back into the private room.
Mo Ran let out a breath. "Shizun can rest easy," he said. "I lived with
this Ye-gongzi back at Peach Blossom Springs, so I'm fairly well acquainted
with him. He's a good person. He won't do anything cruel to that ButterflyBoned Beauty Feast."
Meanwhile, inside Rufeng Sect's room on the third floor, Ye Wangxi
sat down at a table covered with satin cloth that was intricately embroidered
in gold and silver. There he poured himself a cup of fragrant tea. When he
finished it, knocks sounded from outside the booth.
Ye Wangxi's voice was gentle and polite as he said, "Come in."
"Ye-xianjun, I've brought the Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast for your
inspection."
"Thank you. You can go."
Xuanyuan Pavilion's maid left, and for a while there was nothing in the
room but silence. The Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast knelt on the floor, hands
and feet bound by spells, panic in her eyes as her whole body trembled. Her
peach-blossom eyes were red at the edges from crying, and she looked truly
pitiful.
Ye Wangxi glanced at her, not a shred of impropriety in that clear,
principled gaze of his, and lifted a hand to dissipate the spells. "It's cold on
the floor. You must be scared; have a seat and some warm tea."
The Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast did not answer, still trembling, her
beautiful eyes wide and translucent like glass. She stayed where she was,
cowering on the floor—too scared to talk, much less move.
Ye Wangxi sighed and gestured for the attendants to bring her a cloak.
"Please don't worry, miss. I didn't buy you for cultivation purposes. Put on
the cloak, then we can talk."
"You…you…"
When Ye Wangxi saw that she still wasn't moving and was only staring
pitifully up at him, he shook his head with an exasperated smile. He got down
on one knee to be on eye level with her. "My name is Ye Wangxi. May I ask
for yours?"
"This one's name is…Song." She gave Ye Wangxi a hesitant look
through teary eyes. "Song Qiutong… Thank you, Ye-gongzi."
Downstairs, Mo Ran was deep in thought.
In his past life, Song Qiutong had been a disciple of Rufeng Sect by the
time he'd met her. Ye Wangxi must have saved her from the auction house in
that life too. While Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feasts generally weren't treated
like ordinary people, it was a different matter if they were a disciple of a
major cultivation sect.
Mo Ran sighed internally. He didn't know Ye Wangxi that well, only
that he was an upright, principled person, and had been second only to Chu
Wanning in terms of strength in their past life.
Mo Ran had once crossed swords with him when he'd slaughtered the people
of the Rufeng Sect's seventy-two cities. That fierce, imposing
swordsmanship and dignified posture had left a deep impression on him.
Seventy-two cities of Rufeng Sect spread across the land, and Mo Ran
had taken them all without the slightest bit of effort. And the lords of those
cities, with their run-on titles and widespread tales of might and glory, each
and every one of them had been as dirt under his heel.
All save for this Ye Wangxi, and only Ye Wangxi. The seven cities
under his command gave Mo Ran endless trouble. Even in the end, when the
cities had fallen and Ye Wangxi knelt bloodied in a field of corpses, his eyes
were still clear and unrelenting.
By then, the Nangong leaders of Rufeng Sect had since fled, and
multitudes of others were groveling for their lives at Mo Ran's feet.
However, Ye Wangxi only knelt there with his eyes closed and brows drawn
tightly together, his expression frosty.
Before killing him, Mo Ran asked, genuinely, "Will you surrender?"
"I will not."
Mo Ran smiled from where he sat on the gilded seat adorned with a
dragon and phoenix, which was meant for the master of Rufeng Sect. Beneath
dark lashes, his eyes swept across the throngs of people before him.
Ordinary disciples aside, there were six or seven city lords and more than a
dozen generals, all of them prostrating on the dusty ground and quivering.
A crow circled in the ashen grey sky above banners the color of blood,
cawing.
Mo Ran lifted a nonchalant hand. "Kill them all."
Before death, Ye Wangxi said, "All the gleaming cities of Rufeng, and
not one real man to be found."
Blood splattered through the air.
Mo Ran held in his arms his newest acquisition, the beautiful Song
Qiutong, her loveliness unparalleled, her delicate body shivering nonstop at
the hellish scene before her.
"Don't be afraid. There's a good girl. You'll be staying with this
venerable one from now on." Mo Ran stroked her hair, smiling. "Come, tell
me your name again? What did you do at Rufeng Sect? I forgot what you said
earlier."
"This one's name is…Song Qiutong." Her voice was frightened. "I
was…I was Ye Wangxi's…maid…"
Ye Wangxi's maid. That was what she had told Mo Ran.
As for how Song Qiutong, a Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast, had been
allowed to join Rufeng Sect, and how she had become Ye Wangxi's maid,
Mo Ran had no idea. It was only on this day, after his rebirth and at the
Xuanyuan Pavilion, that he finally realized that Ye Wangxi was the one who
had paid an exorbitant sum to save her from the clutches of danger.
Hardly anyone knew that a large part of the reason for Ye Wangxi's
final defeat at Mo Ran's hands had been thanks to information divulged by
Song Qiutong.
The thought made Mo Ran scowl as the loathing he felt for this woman
grew even deeper. He must have been out of his mind when he thought she
was anything like Shi Mei.
The Second Pavilion Master's pleasant voice interrupted Mo Ran's
thoughts. "The last item at this auction is a masterless holy weapon. It has
been put up for auction on behalf of a third party."
There were always rumors floating around before each auction as to
what kind of precious treasures would be up for sale. Thus, in contrast to the
wild reaction to the Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast earlier, the gathered crowd
of cultivators actually settled down a bit, though they were still antsy.
The white jade lotus bloomed once again, and the stone platform rose
slowly. Upon it lay a satin case with silver embellishments of celestial
bodies and elegant landscapes.
The satin case was slim and intricately embroidered, and anyone in the
know could tell with a glance that the fine needlework came from the famed
embroidery house of Gusu, Xianyun Pavilion. Holy weapon aside, this case
alone was worth hundreds of gold.
"This holy weapon was found at the burial mound on Jun Mountain. Its
former master had passed, and we at Xuanyuan Pavilion have verified that it
has yet to take a new master." The Second Pavilion Master paused before
continuing. "As everyone knows, a holy weapon's name is engraved on its
body. However, time has worn away the inscription on this holy weapon, and
only one character remains discernible: Gui, for 'Return.'"
"Enough prattling," someone muttered. "Open the box already."
"Aiyo, let it be, you'll get used to it. Xuanyuan Pavilion always does it
like this. Gotta talk it up before showing us the goods."
"I guess."
Amused by the chatter, Mo Ran turned toward Chu Wanning to quip,
only to see Chu Wanning's face pale as frost, his sword-straight eyebrows
tight and strained as slender fingers of cold jade pressed against his temple.
Startled, he hurriedly asked, "Shizun, are you okay?"
"Suddenly… Suddenly I don't feel so good."
"Don't feel good how? Did you catch another cold?" Mo Ran scooted
over and felt his forehead. "Your temperature's fine."
Chu Wanning shook his head without saying anything. He looked all
out of sorts.
Unsure of what else to do, Mo Ran said, "I'll pour you some tea." He
filled a cup with steaming tea, paused, then added a bit of the recently
purchased Tapir Fragrance Dew.
Sage Hanlin's medicines were renowned the world over, and indeed
Chu Wanning seemed to be better after drinking the tea mixed with the dew.
Some color came back to his face as he returned his attention to the auction
downstairs. Mo Ran tidied up the tea set and poured him another cup.
"Although there is no way to know this holy weapon's full name, since
the stars have aligned to bring it back to the world, and its inscription
already contains the word 'gui,' Xuanyuan Pavilion has for the time being
named it 'Guilai,' 'the Returned.'"
Someone in the crowd finally lost his patience. "Pavilion Master,
you've talked it up enough," he yelled. "We're already on the edge of our
seats—open the box and let's have a look at that holy weapon."
The Second Pavilion Master smiled. "All things in due time, Xianjun.
In accordance with the laws of the cultivation world, when the master of a
holy weapon passes, the weapon shall be inherited by his blood heirs. Guilai
was found at a burial mound, and we have no way to know its original
master's identity. However, once the case is opened, all present are welcome
to reach out with their spiritual energy to test the weapon. If it resonates with
someone, that will indicate that they are of the original master's bloodline,
and Guilai will naturally belong to them, free of charge."
"Ha ha ha, as if something that coincidental could ever happen."
The gathered cultivators burst out laughing.
"That's right, what are the chances?"
"Might as well try it, though. Can't hurt."
The Second Pavilion Master beamed at the crowd. "Indeed, it can't
hurt to try your luck," she agreed crisply. "Now then, if I may have your
attention, we will be removing the lid."
She snapped her fingers, and a pair of Guyueye disciples—both young
girls of around fifteen or sixteen—approached from either side. They flew up
and landed gracefully on the lotus platform, then placed their slender, jadelike hands on the satin case. Each carried an intricate crystal key that they
inserted carefully into the keyholes on the case.
There were two clicks, and the case unlocked.
As Mo Ran watched the scene before him, he found himself thinking
back to when he had acquired Jiangui at Jincheng Lake. It had been clearly
explained to him then that only the person he loved most in all world could
unlock Ever-Yearning, but for some reason, the brocade box had opened in
Chu Wanning's hands.
The audience held their breath, countless eyes staring at that narrow
box from beneath hooded cloaks. The gold-embroidered lid lifted slowly as
the very air strained with tension, like a bow pulled to its limit. Despite the
thousands of people present, it was so quiet that one could have heard a
single hair fall to the ground.
Every single person was staring unblinkingly at the ancient blade that
had been revealed inside the box, aged by time. Some greedily, some
curiously, some appreciatively…
Only Mo Ran's eyes flew wide the instant he saw the weapon lying
there. The color drained rapidly from his face.
He had lived two lifetimes, owned two holy weapons, and crossed
blades with over a dozen other wielders thereof. He had thought that he
wouldn't care a whit about whatever holy weapon Xuanyuan Pavilion was
selling.
He had been wrong.
"The holy weapon Guilai." The Second Pavilion Master's crisp voice
shattered the silence. "A long blade, four feet in length, three inches in width.
Scabbardless, with a body of pure black that does not reflect light."
Mo Ran's fingertips shook minutely as a word slipped past his lips.
"Bugui…"
No Return…
Our past lies on a vermilion bridge in emerald fields
Another year gone, yet still I wait, for you do not return.
22
"Mo Ran, now that you have your own holy weapon, why have you
asked me to seal its spiritual consciousness rather than give it a name?"
"To answer you, Shizun: this disciple is uncultured and has only one
chance to name it. I worry that I'll pick a bad one and be stuck with it."
"A-Ran, have you still not decided on a name for your long blade?
Surely you can't keep calling it, 'blade,' this and, 'blade,' that."
"It's fine, it's fine. I'm just taking my time to think about it. It's a holy
weapon, after all. It deserves a super awesome name, ha ha ha."
Then Shi Mei died.
Mo Ran asked Chu Wanning to release the seal so that he could name
his holy weapon "Mingjing."
However, at that time, Chu Wanning said that his spiritual energy was
still corrupted from the fight with the ghost realm, and that he did not have the
strength to release the sealing spell. So, he could only leave it as it was.
Later, Mo Ran and Chu Wanning finally severed ties, and Mo Ran was
loath to ask him about unsealing it again. And so the bloodstained long blade
remained nameless through all those years and innumerable battles. It no
longer mattered. Not a soul in the world was unaware of Mo Weiyu and the
hellish blade in his hand, which fed on blood and hatred.
In the end, Chu Wanning died as well.
The name-sealing spell that had laid on Mo Ran's blade for more than
a decade disappeared with him.
That night, Mo Ran downed copious amounts of pear-blossom wine. A
bit tipsy, he ran his hand along the ice-cold body of the blade, no longer able
to tell if what he felt was ecstasy or sorrow.
He flicked it and listened to its reverberations, like the sound of drums and
horns on the battlefield, like a haitang chilled to the root. He lay on the roof
of Wushan Palace, laughing uncontrollably, waxing from delighted to
deranged.
Mo Ran didn't remember if he had shed any tears that night, only that
when he woke in the morning, the long blade that had gone nameless for over
a decade had been engraved with two clear-cut characters: Bugui.
For you do not return.
Never again.
But why had the weapon that had accompanied him through endless
battles in his last life appeared in this world reborn? And how had it ended
up at a Xuanyuan Pavilion auction?!
Before Mo Ran could think on it further, all the thousands of
cultivators at the auction house released streams of spiritual energy, each
rushing to commune with Bugui.
Mo Ran watched mutely.
It would be no use. Since it was Bugui, and since Mo Ran was here,
under no circumstances would any other person in the world be able to
command that long blade.
Did its appearance have something to do with that little bastard hiding
behind the scenes? If so, then his decision to release Bugui into the world at
this time meant that he knew Mo Ran and Chu Wanning were trying to track
him down, and that his goal wasn't in fact to test other people's spiritual
essences.
Then what was he trying to do?
Furthermore, was this Bugui real? Or was it merely bait, like those
fakes at Jincheng Lake?
Mind filled with questions, Mo Ran reached out with a tendril of his
own spiritual energy. If Bugui wasn't a fake, then it would surely resonate
with him. If he wanted to avoid notice, he couldn't let the resonance be too
obvious, so if he only used a little bit…
He had just released the tiniest thread of energy when a faint groan
came from behind him.
"Shizun?!"
Mo Ran whipped his head around to find Chu Wanning collapsed at the
table, brows locked and lips blue. His snow-white robes spread out like
smoke, and his handsome face was paler than frost. He had passed out, his
eyes screwed shut like some chronic illness had flared up within him.
Mo Ran had never expected something like this to happen so suddenly.
He panicked, pulling back his spiritual energy and running to Chu Wanning's
side to cradle him in his arms. "Shizun, what's wrong?!"