But the illusion paid no heed to Nangong Si's anguish. It pressed
on mercilessly, laying open one grisly truth from the past after another.
On the shore of Jincheng Lake, Nangong Liu crushed the face of the
merlion piranha beneath his heel. Scrutinizing it carefully, he pronounced,
"Bastard."
"This bastard wanted Madam's spiritual core. Sect Leader could've
refused," said Xu Shuanglin. "But Sect Leader still sold his wife off for a
holy weapon."
"Don't say it like that; I didn't sell her off. Rong-shijie was in poor
health to begin with. Rainbell Isle's best doctors examined her; even they
said she didn't have long. I would never have sacrificed her to this monster
had she been in good health."
Xu Shuanglin raised his eyebrows a fraction but said no more.
Nangong Liu stared at the merlion piranha a while longer. His temper
suddenly flared. "Life is so unfair," he grumbled.
A look of surprise crept over Xu Shuanglin's face, as if he hadn't
expected someone blessed with both fame and fortune to have complaints
about their fate. He let out a snort of laughter. "What?"
"I said, life is unfair."
Xu Shuanglin didn't respond.
"When others get holy weapons," Nangong Liu continued, "the lake
creatures ask for a flowering branch or a song. Why is it that I summoned a
monster that wanted my wife dead? What could I have done? What choice
did I have?" He looked deeply resentful. "You saw it yourself back then.
Our retinue held their tongues, but the zongshi rebuked me. That Chu
Wanning… A fucking fifteen-year-old kid, yet he dared disrespect me like
that, giving me an earful about morals and integrity… Empty words! If he
had to choose between a dying wife and an unsurpassed holy weapon,
I refuse to believe he would choose the former!"
Xu Shuanglin only grinned. "Hard to say. Don't look at me like that
—seriously, you never can tell what those kinds of people really think."
"What else could they think? They only care for burnishing their own
reputations. As if I don't know what these people are like!" Nangong Liu
grew increasingly sullen. Cursing, he kicked the piranha again. "Ever since
I became sect leader, I've suffered one indignity after another. On top of
that damned curse, I have to paste a smile on my face all day long… It's a
good thing I learned to swallow my humiliation. Otherwise, I would've
likely died at the hands of Chu Wanning the day I obtained my sword."
"You're quite correct." Xu Shuanglin was still all smiles. "Back then
I also thought Chu Wanning was going to kill you. Yet you somehow
persuaded him not only to spare you from Tianwen's killing blow, but also
to keep his mouth shut about Jincheng Lake. Esteemed Sect Leader, your
talent for saving your own skin is second to none."
"Even if he was outraged, he knew he couldn't afford to throw
Rufeng Sect into chaos," said Nangong Liu. "And there was Si-er to think
of as well—we told him his mother died from her injuries while exorcising
demons. It's surely less upsetting than the truth."
Heaving a sigh, Xu Shuanglin nodded agreeably. "No wonder the
zongshi left. If I were him, I'd be thoroughly disgusted with you as well."
"You think I wanted to do it? That I had a choice?" Nangong Liu
snapped. "I already said it—life is unfair."
At this point, one of the people watching stole a glance at Chu
Wanning and muttered, "So Chu-zongshi knew the truth about Madam
Rong all along?"
"Not only knew—he helped Nangong Liu cover the whole thing up
and didn't tell anyone what really happened."
"I guess he didn't want any trouble—he was only fifteen. If he really
offended Rufeng Sect, there'd be consequences."
Another softly spoke up in Chu Wanning's defense. "I don't think so
—he lost a lot to gain a little. Didn't Nangong Liu say Chu-zongshi
concealed the truth because he wanted to protect Nangong Si's feelings?"
"If it's true, it just means he has poor judgment. What's more
important—a little kid's feelings or a sect leader's integrity? Ah, if only
he'd spoken up then, Rufeng Sect wouldn't be in this mess today."
"How can you say that? If he had publicly accused Nangong Liu, it
would have been complete chaos in the upper cultivation realm… People's
decisions are their own. If it were me, I probably wouldn't want to stick my
neck out either."
"Heh, well, if it were me, I'd have totally exposed Nangong Liu for
the monster he is. With these sorts of things, inaction makes you an
accomplice."
Their voices were low, but Mo Ran's ears were sharp. Furious, he
was about to walk over and have a word when a hand grabbed his sleeve.
"Shizun!"
Chu Wanning shook his head, face impassive. "Don't waste your
breath."
"But it's not like that at all! Can't they understand? How could you
have possibly spoken out in that situation? Who's the one with poor
judgment? It's plainly—"
"Are you angry?" Chu Wanning asked mildly.
Mo Ran nodded.
"Do you feel like you won't be satisfied unless you do something?"
Mo Ran nodded again.
"Okay. Then help cover my ears."
Mo Ran froze mid-nod.
"I don't intend to argue, but I'd rather not hear it. Cover my ears until
they're done talking."
So Mo Ran stepped behind Chu Wanning and genuinely reached up
to press his hands to Chu Wanning's ears. As he looked down at the man
before him, he was overcome with outrage and heartache. He couldn't
understand it. Why were people still disappointed in Chu Wanning when he
did everything so well? Over two lifetimes Mo Ran had seen how this man
lived for others with every breath, how he never indulged in a single day of
selfishness. Why then did so many rush to criticize him behind his back for
one controversial choice or ambiguous decision?
It seemed this was always the way of things. People were wont to
shed tears of gratitude over an evil person's single good deed and viciously
latch onto a good person's single mistake. In the past lifetime, Taxian-jun
had slaughtered countless thousands. But one day, he'd done something
completely out of character: he'd sent ten thousand gold to each master at
Wubei Temple. Everyone had praised him to the skies—Taxian-jun had
suddenly laid down the butcher's knife to become a Buddha. For a short
time, people spoke of Taxian-jun like some beneficent god, all because of
this one tiny act of magnanimity.
And what of Chu Wanning? He was an indisputable grandmaster, one
of the world's most benevolent cultivators. But at his tiniest error, people
would open their mouths to spit malice unchecked.
Mo Ran had seen it play out too many times. When Chu Wanning
was harsh, he was called cold-blooded. When Chu Wanning was soft, he
was called timid. In his five years of traveling, Mo Ran had once overheard
someone recount the incident with Landlord Chen at Butterfly Town. To
hear them tell it, Chu Wanning had whipped his client bloody and injured
an ordinary citizen solely because he was trying to garner attention.
"He's a man carved from wood, he's got no conscience to speak of.
See now—any normal person would have a few friends, right? But look at
Chu Wanning. At fifteen he turned his back on Master Huaizui's sect, and
he's been on his own ever since. Is there anyone in this wide world who
would claim him as a friend?"
"Right! And no matter how much in the wrong Butterfly Town's
Landlord Chen might have been, he was still the client. Chu Wanning was
way out of line. He cares nothing for his sect's reputation or the moral code
of cultivators. If you ask me, he's been alone too long. His mind's twisted."
Chu Wanning's mind was twisted? Who was the twisted one here?!
Had this man not sacrificed enough? Was it necessary to drain his blood,
rend his flesh, and offer up his bones, just so he would be considered right
and good, just so, in their estimation, he would live up to the title of Chu
zongshi?
Chu Wanning was tall and slender, but as Mo Ran, now fully grown,
stood behind him to cover his ears, the top of Chu Wanning's head scarcely
cleared his jaw. Chu Wanning was neither delicate nor weak, but as Mo Ran
watched him through lowered lashes, he suddenly found Chu Wanning
deeply pitiable. Boundless affection and tenderness welled up in him. He
wanted, more than ever, to embrace this man. Not out of lust—he only
wanted to put his arms around him. In this harsh world, Mo Ran only
wanted to use his own flesh and blood to surround Chu Wanning with
warmth. That was all.
However, Chu Wanning was more than accustomed to mindless
criticisms like if it had been me, I would have done this or that. To him,
these comments were wholly unremarkable.
The recollection from Jincheng Lake faded, and the shards of
memory broke apart and came together again. But Chu Wanning looked
away, his searching eyes finding Nangong Si. The young man had his back
to him, still kneeling where he'd fallen. Chu Wanning sighed softly.
Technically, he and Nangong Si weren't master and disciple, but it wouldn't
be wrong to consider them so. He had hoped Nangong Si would go through
life thinking Rong Yan had met an unfortunate demise while fighting
demons. But the world hadn't bent to his wishes. Many years had elapsed,
but the truth still burnt quick through that paper-thin deception, reducing it
to ash.
In Chu Wanning's eyes, Nangong Si's kneeling figure overlapped
with the child kneeling in the funeral hall from his memories. That child
had clumsily tried to recite Carefree Wandering, but he hadn't practiced
enough—he couldn't recount it smoothly. Wiping at his tears, he carefully
recited the lines he knew for his mother.
"In the great northern sea is a fish called the kun. The kun is huge,
I know not how many thousands of miles long. It turns into a bird called the
peng…" He spoke haltingly. Each time he paused, his young face creased
with a suffering too heavy for his years. "If the whole world…praised
him…he rejoiced not. If the whole world…blamed him, he despaired…not,
for he…for he knew his inner self from outside influence, he could tell…"
The child's soft voice caught in his throat; he couldn't go on. His
small frame trembled slightly, like a willow catkin in the wind. At last,
unable to hold back any longer, he covered his face and sobbed.
"Mom… I was wrong, Si-er was wrong… Please wake up, Mom…
I won't goof off anymore. Wake up, please keep teaching me, okay?"
Later on, Nangong Si would inscribe Carefree Wandering from
memory during every morning class. This text accompanied him all the way
from when he was a small child until he grew into a high-spirited young
master of Rufeng Sect.
Madam Rong was gone; she would never teach him again. Not long
after, Chu Wanning left as well; he never looked back. Nangong Si took no
one as his master. He relied on that patched-up old quiver and the maxim,
"As a gentleman of Rufeng Sect, I mustn't indulge in greed, resentment,
deception, slaughter, obscenity, plunder, or conquest." Within the
impenetrable walls of the world's foremost cultivation sect, the child
blossomed into an upstanding young hero, as unlike his father as night from
day. Thus did fifteen years pass since Madam Rong's death.
Another illusion coalesced overhead. This time, Nangong Liu's
sleeping quarters materialized before the crowd. The moon was full, and
Nangong Liu was curled up in the bed, on which was laid a bamboo
sleeping mat and hollow bamboo pillow. It was clearly summer in the
illusion, yet Nangong Liu was swaddled in thick blankets and shivering
uncontrollably, his lips blue.
Chu Wanning patted Mo Ran's hand, still covering his ear. "Let go—
I want to watch this."
"You don't have to," said Mo Ran. "I can tell you about it later." He
didn't want to release Chu Wanning. But after several insistent taps,
Mo Ran knew persuasion would be futile. He let his hands fall and
gloomily surveyed their surroundings—if he heard one more person blame
Chu Wanning, he resolved to commit them to memory and take revenge
later.
Within the illusion, Xu Shuanglin stepped through the doorway and
made a crooked, careless bow to Nangong Liu. Nangong Liu seemed used
to this and paid it no mind. Eyes bloodshot, he muttered, "Shuanglin,
where's the medicine? Where's the medicine?"
"I prepared it, but it didn't work."
Nangong Liu wailed, snot and tears running down his face in his
terror. "How… How… You said you could do it… I can't stand it anymore;
it feels like my bones have grown thorns! Q-quick, close the window.
I don't want any light in here, none at all…"
"It's already closed. Tonight's a full moon—even if you don't set a
foot outside, it'll hurt," said Xu Shuanglin. "It's no use, you can't escape
it."
"No—no! Where's the medicine?" Nangong Liu was almost
insensate with pain. "Where is it! Where! You said you could make it!
I trusted you! Where's the medicine!"
"I consulted that old scroll again—it's impossible to formulate. The
curse on you is too strong. Only one thing can reverse it."
"What?! I'll give you whatever you need! Just give me the medicine!
Give me the medicine!"
"I need the spiritual core of the person who laid the curse," said Xu
Shuanglin.
Nangong Liu instantly paled. "Spiritual core… You need… You need
his spiritual core?"
"Do you have it?"
"How would I have it!" Nangong Liu roared, hair disheveled, spittle
flying from his mouth. "You know who cursed me! My dear shizun, that
useless…worthless…gentleman! Luo Fenghua! He betrayed me, so
I hacked him into a million pieces when I chased him off the sect leader's
seat! I sank his ashes into the most inauspicious blood pool and sent his
soul to the Infinite Hells. He'll never reincarnate! Even his skeleton
must've rotted by now. Yet you want me to find his spiritual core? How am
I supposed to find it? How?!"
Xu Shuanglin calmly waited for Nangong Liu to finish his tirade.
Only after Nangong Liu had sunk into a despairing silence, his cries stifled
in his throat, did Xu Shuanglin say slowly, "I have thought of a way to do it,
but it's incredibly difficult. Do you want to hear it?"
"Tell me, quick, hurry up and tell me!"
"Luo Fenghua's deceased, yes, but you should be familiar with
what's written in the Record of the Dead. Ghosts that fall into the Infinite
Hells may never reincarnate, but it's still possible to gather their three
ethereal souls and seven corporeal spirits to create a ghost form that
resembles their mortal body. The more terrible their death, the more
powerful this resurrected ghost form will be. Some even develop a gigantic
external skeleton in order to protect the souls from scattering."
"But how? It's not like I can march down to the Infinite Hells to fish
up his corpse…"
"You can't go there, but we can summon him here." Xu Shuanglin's
lips curled slightly, his expression so serene beneath the candlelight that he
might have been chatting about whom to visit for tea. "The ghost realm and
the living world are separated by a barrier. If you assemble five of the
purest and strongest spiritual energies, you can open a passage to the
Infinite Hells."
"Open…to the Infinite Hells?"
Xu Shuanglin chuckled. "That's right. You can rip open a passage
and summon Luo Fenghua's ghost form. His ghost form should be identical
to his mortal body—including his spiritual core. If you eat his flesh and
extract his spiritual core, the curse will be broken." After a pause, he
continued. "But assembling five great spiritual energies will be no easy
task. Ideally we'd use the souls of the purest elemental spiritual essences…
Don't fret, let me see if there's another way."
Nangong Liu opened his mouth to speak, but all that emerged was an
eerie howl. Dribbling tears and mucus, he crumpled onto the bed, shivering
violently.
"Does it hurt that much?" Xu Shuanglin sighed. "That shizun of
yours must have left such a vicious curse on the ring because he loathed
you for killing your own master. How very pitiful."
Nangong Liu whimpered.
"There there, bear with it. Once the sun comes up, it won't hurt
anymore," Xu Shuanglin said. He sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed,
cheek in one hand as he picked at his toes with the other. "I'll stay and chat
with you. The pain won't be as bad if you're distracted."
Squirming deep into the bedding, Nangong Liu panted in agony.
"Hmm, what to talk about…" mused Xu Shuanglin. "How about Si
er? Real handful, isn't he? By nature his spiritual core is unruly and prone
to qi deviation. Doesn't it run in the family? I heard his great-grandfather
had a similar problem."
Cowering under the blankets, Nangong Liu swallowed. "Mn."
"What do you plan to do about it?"
"What do you mean?" Nangong Liu sounded irritated. "H-his illness
is a far sight easier to deal with than mine. He'll just have to take the right
wife in the future… The—the flow of spiritual energy can be controlled
through dual cultivation. So you'd better… You'd better just focus on my
curse, all right…"
"Haven't I been focusing on your curse this whole time? The more
you think about it, the more it'll hurt." Scratching his toes, Xu Shuanglin
grinned and returned to his subject. "But won't that sort of dual cultivation
harm his partner? I heard Si-er's great-grandmother died quite young."
"N-nonsense."
"Aiya, I was just making conversation—to think she really died from
dual cultivation." Xu Shuanglin sighed. "Rufeng Sect is so treacherous. The
sect leaders actually sacrifice their wives to solve their own problems."
"The lives of women…are worthless…to begin with."
"You really do have a low opinion of women, don't you," Xu
Shuanglin remarked cheerfully.
"It's not as if you're ignorant of our founder's teachings."
"Oh, but I am. What did our founder say?"
"Rufeng Sect should be led by gentlemen."
"True enough."
"And what's a gentleman? A man, get it?"
Xu Shuanglin snorted. "Allow me to say something impudent—Sect
Leader, you've misunderstood this phrase. In the heroes' tomb, our founder
is probably turning over in his grave about now."
"You've never married. How could you understand?" Nangong Liu
muttered. "When it comes to women…what use are they, aside from
continuing the ancestral line—that's…that's their responsibility. My
grandmother was more than willing to sacrifice her life for my
grandfather's sake…"
"More than willing?" Xu Shuanglin laughed. "Then will you also
find Si-er a wife more than willing to dual cultivate with him and sacrifice
herself?"
Nangong Liu ground out, "I've already found one…"
Xu Shuanglin blinked. "What? Who? Who is it?" He shuffled nosily
toward the middle of the bed, almost as if he wanted to yank Nangong Liu
out of the covers. "How nice—so you already have a candidate for Rufeng
Sect's young mistress! Come, who's the lucky lady."
Nangong Liu burrowed deeper into the blankets. Suppressing the
pain, he said hoarsely, "Your foster daughter, Ye Wangxi."