Xie Lian's mind was still deeply mired in the screaming of the vengeful spirits, and he couldn't quite regain himself for the moment.
Shaken, his face was drenched with cold sweat underneath the mask.
"…Don't address me by that title," he responded, still distracted.
Every time someone addressed him like that, it was as if they were trying to remind him of something. It made him particularly irritated, and each instance jolted his heart.
However, Wuming said, "Your Highness will forever be Your Highness."
Xie Lian looked over. He couldn't see Wuming's face, of course, just the smiling mask. And when Wuming gazed at him, he also could only see a ghastly white cry-smiling mask.
"If you keep calling me by that title, I'll disperse your soul," Xie Lian said coldly. "Don't think yourself to be so strong."
Wuming bowed his head and did not speak.
Xie Lian calmed himself. "Go search the area around Lang-Er Bay and find the best location to set up an array."
"Yes, sir," Wuming replied.
Xie Lian closed his eyes, paused, and then opened them again. He gazed at the black-clad warrior, frowning. "Why are you still here?"
"The location is settled," Wuming replied. "What about the time?"
"Time?"
"The souls of the dead cannot wait any longer. We must find a subject to curse soon, without delay."
They truly couldn't delay for long. After some silence, Xie Lian said, "Three days."
"Why three days?" Wuming asked.
For some reason, Xie Lian got easily agitated whenever he conversed with Wuming. "In three days, it will be the full moon. Unleashing the spirits at that time will increase the plague's power significantly. You ask too many questions, just go."
Wuming nodded and stood down without another word. Xie Lian closed his eyes again and covered his forehead with his hand, hoping to relieve this round of headaches.
Just then, he heard a cold, mocking chuckle from behind him.
That familiar, mocking laughter froze Xie Lian's blood solid. He whirled around, and sure enough, behind him sat a snow-white figure in a cry-smiling mask. His hands were tucked inside the expansive sleeves of his funeral garb, and he was watching Xie Lian from the altar.
White No-Face!
Xie Lian drew his sword and lunged. White No-Face caught the point of the blade between two fingers, sighing as he did.
"Just as I thought. This appearance suits you very well."
Wearing their masks, the two of them looked identical from head to toe. No one but the two men themselves could have differentiated one from the other as they clashed in a whirl of white.
White No-Face easily evaded all of Xie Lian's strikes, and as he did, he asked "Your Highness, you buried your parents in such deserted, foreign soil. Didn't you think that might wrong their memory?"
Xie Lian's heart sank. "You touched my mother and father's bodies?!
Did you desecrate their corpses?!"
"No, just the opposite," White No-Face said. "I helped you give them a proper, solemn burial."
Xie Lian was taken aback.
"I helped you by carrying them to the Xianle Royal Mausoleum, and I even dressed them in a pair of rare, exquisite robes that will prevent them from rotting for thousands of years," White No-Face added. "The next time you visit them, you will still be able to see the same faces you knew from when they were alive."
He then told Xie Lian the location of the Royal Mausoleum and how to enter. This should have been something the king and state preceptor told Xie Lian, but before they were able, they had both either died or disappeared.
Xie Lian was stunned—and suspicious. "Why do you know how to enter the Royal Mausoleum?"
White No-Face smiled. "I know everything about Your Highness."
"You don't know shit!" Xie Lian hissed.
He still wasn't used to spitting such vulgar words from his lips. As if White No-Face had seen through him, he looked Xie Lian up and down and said gently, "Don't worry, it's all right. From now on, there will no longer be anything that can hold you back. There won't be anyone to hold unnecessary expectations of you, and there certainly won't be anyone who knows who you are. You are free to do anything you want."
His words planted a strange feeling in Xie Lian.
Why had this monster come here today?
To express his goodwill.
Although the very idea seemed absurd, Xie Lian's instincts told him that it was true. Providing his parents with a proper burial, trying to console him…it all came from this intent.
That must mean he was very, very happy—happier than any other time Xie Lian had met him. It was like he was exceptionally delighted to see Xie Lian like this, and it was making him unconsciously gentler and kinder. That kindness actually made Xie Lian feel a flash of gratitude, one so keen that it might have brought him to tears, but that was drowned out by overwhelming disgust.
"Don't be so happy so soon," Xie Lian said frostily. "I still won't allow a creature like you to remain in the world. Once I've wiped Yong'an from the map, I will come for you. You'd best prepare yourself!"
White No-Face opened his arms wide and shrugged. "I happily welcome you with open arms. Even if you come intending to kill me, I will still be here waiting for you. When you've truly become strong enough to defeat me, you will be able to take up my mantle. However—" The smile under the mask seemed to fade.
"Will you actually destroy Yong'an?"
"What do you mean?" Xie Lian demanded.
"You could make your move right now. Why choose to move in three days? Are you hesitating now that things have finally come to a head?
Could it be that, even with your kingdom destroyed and your family dead, you still don't have the courage to seek revenge? Will I witness another of Your Highness's failures?"
The word "failure" stabbed his ears. Xie Lian raised his sword and lunged, but he was sent to the ground by one kick from White No-Face— and the creature had somehow snatched away the black sword. His gentle tone was now condescending.
"Do you know how you're acting right now?"
Xie Lian grabbed the snow-white boot on his chest, but no matter how hard he pushed, it wouldn't move an inch. He remained firmly pinned down by that foot, trapped on the ground.
White No-Face leaned down slightly. "You're like a sulking child.
You don't yet have the resolve."
"Who says I don't?!" Xie Lian cried angrily.
"Then what are you doing right now?" White No-Face questioned.
"Where's your curse? Where are your dead? Your father and mother, your soldiers, your citizens—how truly pitiful that they had such a god thrust upon them! You couldn't protect them while they were alive, and you can't avenge them after their deaths! You useless trash!"
He put more of his weight onto the foot on Xie Lian's chest. Trickles of blood began to creep from the edges of Xie Lian's cry-smiling mask, choked from his lungs.
White No-Face lowered the hand that gripped the sword, and its black jade tip prodded against Xie Lian's throat. As it traced the cursed shackle there, the feeling awakened memories Xie Lian had pushed down.
"Would you like me to remind you what it feels like to be pierced by a hundred swords?"
Overwhelming fear made Xie Lian's breathing hitch. He was too terrified to move.
After successfully scaring him, White No-Face became amiable again. He withdrew his boot and helped Xie Lian, who was frozen in terror, to sit upright.
White No-Face grasped Xie Lian's chin and pushed it in a specific direction. "Come, look. This is what you look like right now."
He forced Xie Lian to view the desecrated divine statue upon the desecrated altar.
The flower and sword in the crown prince statue's hands were gone.
It had been burnt by blazing fires, hacked by axes, and pelted by vegetables, lifted and smashed to the floor. Half of it was burnt black and there were limbs missing—it was a tragic sight to behold.
"Who do you have to thank for becoming like that?" White No-Face asked. "Do you think it's me?"
He was trying to forcefully indoctrinate Xie Lian once again. New ideas were being poured into his mind, filling him with more and more confusion, more and more doubt. He had even forgotten his anger.
"…What do you want? Why do you cling to me?" Xie Lian wondered, his tone distracted.
"I've told you," White No-Face replied. "I've come to guide and educate you. The third thing I will teach you is this: if you cannot save the common people, then destroy them. They will revere you only when you crush them underfoot!"
When White No-Face said those words, Xie Lian's head suddenly throbbed like it was going to explode. He clutched at it and screamed.
It was the vengeful spirits! There were so many, and they were shrieking and wailing inside his mind—Xie Lian's head hurt so much that he wanted to roll on the ground. White No-Face, on the other hand, started laughing.
"They cannot wait any longer," he cooed gently. "If you don't unleash the plague of Human Face Disease within three days, if you cannot give them a target to curse, then you will become their target. And do you know what will become of you then?"
Xie Lian could feel the freezing black sword being stuffed into his hand once again. A voice resounded in his ears.
"You no longer have the choice to turn back."
When the throbbing headache finally faded, Xie Lian dropped his hands and opened his eyes. Inside the broken-down Temple of the Crown Prince, he was alone. The white-clothed man who was his exact likeness had long since vanished.
He didn't know how much time had passed, but night had fallen. It was dim and shadowed inside the Temple of the Crown Prince. Xie Lian's heart stuttered when he realized something.
One day of three had already passed.
A tiny spot of white seemed to glow within the darkness of the hall. It was strange, and Xie Lian turned to look. But when he got a clear view of what that white spot was, his pupils shrank in shock—though his eyes could not be seen underneath his mask.
He snatched up the offending thing and demanded, "What… What is this flower doing here?"
It was a fresh, delicate, little white flower, and it had been placed on the left hand of the scorched, broken divine statue. The contrast between it and the blackened statue made it appear especially pure, like snow, but also especially bleak. It looked like this divine statue had suffered all its injuries to protect the little flower.
Xie Lian didn't know why this scene enraged him so keenly. "Ghost!
Come out!" he bellowed.
Soon, the saber-wielding black-clad warrior appeared as expected. He hadn't yet spoken before Xie Lian demanded, "What's the meaning of this flower? Who did this? Did you do this?"
Wuming bowed his head slightly, and his gaze paused for a moment on the flower that seemed crushed to suffocation in Xie Lian's hand.
Finally, he said quietly, "It wasn't me."
"Then who could've done it?!" Xie Lian exclaimed.
"Why is Your Highness so angry at seeing this flower?" Wuming asked.
Xie Lian's face darkened, and he threw the flower to the ground. "… Pranks like these disgust me."
Wuming, however, said, "Why would it be a prank? Perhaps Your Highness has believers here who still offer worship."
His words were like a slap to Xie Lian's face, and he turned to Wuming.
"Are you making fun of me?"
"No," Wuming replied.
"Then don't say such nonsense! Why would offerings still be here?!"
After a pause, Wuming said, "It's not impossible."
Xie Lian didn't know what to say. He couldn't take it anymore and snapped at Wuming, "That's enough. What are you trying to say? Weren't you a soldier of Xianle? I didn't rouse you from the battlefield to listen to you speak for Yong'an. You just need to heed my command!"
The flower on the ground pricked his heart and stabbed his eyes. All at once, he felt very wretched and unkempt. Xie Lian charged forward and stomped it under his boot, crushing it like he was venting his fury. Yet after he was done, he felt baffled by his own actions. Why did he throw such a huge fit over such a small flower?
Xie Lian rushed out of the Temple of the Crown Prince. Only once he felt the cool breeze did he gradually calm down. The black-clad warrior followed him outside.
"You've investigated the area. Have you found anything that seems unusual?" Xie Lian asked.
"No," Wuming replied.
"Are you sure?" Xie Lian asked. "In order to unleash the plague of Human Face Disease, there can't be anything amiss with the time, fortune, or location."
"I am certain," Wuming replied.
Xie Lian had nothing more to say, so he gazed at the sky.
After a moment of silence, Wuming asked, "Your Highness, have you decided on the method you will use to unleash the vengeful spirits' pestilence?"
"I'm still thinking," Xie Lian said.
He looked down at the black sword hanging from his waist. Millions of vengeful spirits were sealed within the sword, but it could only keep them contained for so long.
Suddenly, Wuming said, "Your Highness, I have a presumptuous request."
"Speak."
"I hoped that Your Highness might give me the sword and allow me to summon the plague."
Xie Lian turned his head. "Why?"
Wuming watched Xie Lian intently from behind his mask. "My beloved sustained terrible injuries in the war and suffered a fate worse than death. I could only watch helplessly as they suffered in torment and struggled in agony."
"And?" Xie Lian said.
"And so I hoped that I could be the one to wield the sword and avenge them."
That reason was very plausible, but Xie Lian found it hard to trust him, somehow. He narrowed his eyes.
"I find you rather odd." He circled Wuming and commented coolly, "Based on what I've seen, you don't seem like an avenger mired in resentment and hatred. Asking this of me…is it really so you can unleash the plague?"
Despite his doubts, he couldn't imagine why else Wuming would request to unleash it.
The nameless black-clad warrior bowed his head toward him. "Your Highness, I wish for the deaths of Yong'an's people more than anyone. And I wish for them to perish by my hand. If you don't believe me, I can go prove myself to you right now."
"How do you plan on doing that?" Xie Lian asked.
Wuming placed his hand on his saber and began to slowly back up, withdrawing from Xie Lian's presence and preparing to leave. By his third step back, Xie Lian suddenly realized what he planned to do: to prove to Xie Lian that he had a vengeful heart, he was going to go kill someone!
"Stop!" Xie Lian instantly called out.
Wuming stopped. Xie Lian sized him up critically, then declared with resolve, "No. I will unleash them myself."
The black-clad warrior bowed his head; thanks to his mask, it was hard to guess what expression he might be wearing. But Xie Lian didn't care about anyone's reaction, and he simply turned around.
"However…before that, there's something I need to do," he said softly.
He raised the cold, jade-like, black sword. He stared at the sharp blade in his hand, a peculiar glint flashing in his eyes.
Wuming noticed that something was off. "Your Highness, what are you planning?!"
But Wuming had no chance to stop him before Xie Lian turned the point of the blade on himself—and plunged the black sword into his own abdomen!
***
The next day, on the streets of Lang-Er Bay… The weather had not been pleasant lately. It was perpetually cloudy and gloomy, with sudden wild gusts of wind and endless sinister rain.
For that matter, Yong'an had not been peaceful lately, not one part of it. Apparently the newly built palace had caught fire, and both the king and the crown prince were reported to be ill—ill enough that they couldn't grant anyone an audience. Everything was chaos; there were ominous signs everywhere. The people were ill at ease and couldn't help but grumble.
Only ignorant children continued to play and run around without a care in the world.
A blast of gloomy wind swept past, harsh enough to be blinding.
Suddenly, a huge explosion echoed from a bustling fork in one of the city's thoroughfares.
A man had dropped from the sky!
The crowd on the main street was startled by the booming noise, and they all looked toward the sound. On the ground there was a human-shaped crater formed from the falling man's impact. Within the hole there was a person lying listlessly flat. His hair was strewn around him, and his body was covered in blood—so much that his white robes looked utterly horrifying.
Everyone on the street rushed to crowd around.
"Who is it?!"
"My heavens, where did he fall from? The sky?!"
"Is he dead?!"
"I…I don't think so! I think he's still moving!"
"I can't believe he could survive that! Wait, what's stuck through his chest? A sword?!"
Once the crowd was close enough, they could finally see the man's appearance clearly. Although he was disheveled, he was handsome; he had clean features and fair skin. His eyes were gazing unblinkingly toward the sky in a way that was very unlike the living—but he clearly wasn't dead since he was still breathing. The black sword that had pierced his stomach and penetrated his organs was rising up and down weakly with the movement of his chest.
Another person exclaimed in surprise, "Wait, isn't this…isn't this… th-that Royal Highness the Crown Prince?!"
Once he mentioned it, everyone else started to recognize him too.
"…It really is. It's the old crown prince, the Crown Prince of Xianle!
I saw him once from a distance!
"Didn't they say the crown prince went missing?"
"I heard he ascended."
"Why is he like this…? What's with the sword? Did it really stab him all the way through? Scary…" "Enough gawking! Let me through, will y'all let me through? I've got places to be!"
This street ended in a fork where the road split into two separate directions. Since the crossing was being blocked by a crowd of people, the carriages that came along couldn't get through, and drivers descended from their vehicles to check things out. It was causing quite the commotion.
Suddenly, someone shouted, "Wait! He seems…to be saying something?"
The crowd quieted down. Everyone held their breaths and listened intently, trying to pick up his voice. No one on the outer edges could hear anything, so a moment later they shouted, "What did he say? Did he tell you what happened?"
The ones in the front called back, "No!"
"Then what did he say?"
"He said, 'Save me.'" Xie Lian lay flat on the ground. After those two words, not another sound escaped his lips. The people crowding around him reacted to the statement with varying emotions, expressions, and degrees of puzzlement.
A chubby man who seemed to be a chef said, "Save him? How do we save him?"
Someone took a guess. "He probably meant to ask for help pulling the sword out?"
The chef looked fairly gutsy and was ready to go and give it a shot— however, he was held back by several hands.
"Don't, don't, don't! Absolutely do not!"
The chef was confused. "Why not?"
"You mustn't! Haven't you heard? Didn't Xianle lose the war?" the bystanders explained. "Why did they lose the war? Because of Human Face Disease. And why did that plague descend? Because there was a God of Misfortune, and it was—" "God of Misfortune?! Really?!"
The moment those words were said, any chance of someone recklessly stepping forward was dashed. In an instant, the area around that enormous human-shaped pit was entirely empty of people.
After all, no one knew exactly what had happened to the crown prince of the previous dynasty. Was he a God of Misfortune? Would they contract that horrifying disease if they came in contact with him? Or would they find themselves mired in bitterly bad luck? Besides, it seemed like he wasn't going to die for the time being even if they didn't pull the sword out —if he could fall from who-knew-where and crash so loudly from such a height without dying, then he was beyond human.
A moment later, someone said timidly, "Maybe we should report this to the authorities…?"
"Didn't they say this Royal Highness ascended and became a god?
What's the use in reporting this to the authorities?"
"Then what should we do?"
The crowd squabbled amongst themselves but couldn't come to a decision. In the end, they sent someone to report the incident and promptly washed their hands of any further responsibility.
"You want to lie there? Well then, just lie there. Let's leave him be."
Thus, Xie Lian remained sprawled in the human-shaped pit, watching the curious heads peeking in above him gradually decrease in number until they completely disappeared. The blocked carriages detoured around him, and the children playing in the streets were dragged back inside by their parents. Every so often someone would pass by, but they kept their distance.
Xie Lian was expressionless throughout, speaking not a single word more.
A water merchant finally couldn't bear the sight any longer. He whispered to his wife as she watched the stall, "Is it really all right to leave him like that? Why don't I give him a cup of water?"
The water merchant's wife hesitated for a moment and scanned their surroundings, then whispered back, "Let's not. If he really is a God of Misfortune, then who knows what could happen if you get too close?"
The water merchant was also hesitant and looked around. The other merchants were all staring at him from their stalls, their expressions nervous—it seemed that if he were to approach that pit, they had drawn their own lines and would stay far, far away from him in turn. In the end, he didn't dare step forward and abandoned the idea entirely.
Xie Lian remained like that from the thin mist of morning to the blazing midday sun, then to dusk, and on until deep into the night.
Many people saw him during that time, but those who approached were very few, and there certainly wasn't anyone who would help pull the black sword from his stomach.
In the deep of night, there was not a soul on the streets, but Xie Lian still lay there on the ground and watched the skies above. The stars twinkled in the dark sky, and his thoughts were meandering and mysterious.
Suddenly, clear, crisp laughter sounded from above the pit.
"Ha ha ha… What are you doing?"
After receiving so many visits from the owner of that voice, Xie Lian no longer reacted as violently as he once had. When he didn't receive his customary angry, panicked "welcome," the voice's owner took the initiative and walked over himself. He stood by Xie Lian's head and bent down, and his voice seemed almost a little disappointed.
"What are you waiting for?"
That half-crying, half-smiling mask was upside down, and coincidentally also blocked Xie Lian's entire field of vision. They faced each other like that, with only centimeters between them.
"Get the hell out of here. You're blocking my view of the sky," Xie Lian said coldly.
White No-Face wasn't the least bit upset at being told to get the hell away. He straightened up with a laugh, and his reply sounded quite affable, like an elder tolerating a spoiled child. "What's so good about the sky?"
"It's prettier than you," Xie Lian snapped at him.
"Why the temper?" White No-Face asked. "It wasn't me who stabbed you this time, and it wasn't me who left you here. You did all this yourself.
Even if you haven't gotten the results you were hoping for, you still can't blame me."
Xie Lian said nothing.
"You've wasted an entire day here," White No-Face continued.
"What exactly are you trying to prove? Or are you trying to convince yourself of something?"
"It's none of your shitty business," Xie Lian said.
White No-Face chuckled sympathetically. "Silly child. Did you think someone would help you pull out that sword?"