A startling bolt of lightning cleaved apart the night sky of early summer at the tail end of spring. The dusk was moonless and starless.
The icy rain fell, rinsing the world in bloom clean on a late spring's night.
The roof of the decrepit room in the inn was leaking. There was only a smidgen of light in the room; a man in red was toying with the glowing candlewick with his fingers, his expression one of deadly frost.
He was none other than Sun Ding.
A sudden breeze swept in through the window, and the flame trembled slightly. Sun Ding's gaze focused. He raised his head to look at the Poisonous Scorpion in black who had come in through the window, silently waiting for the news that he brought him.
This Poisonous Scorpion in black produced a strip of paper from the front of his clothes and handed it over. Sun Ding took it, looked it over, then touched it to the candle flame and set it alight. A bloodthirsty smile unfurled on his face, turning the ghastly half of his face even more crimson and horrifying. Raising his hand, he rolled his sleeve up. His palm had turned purple--he grabbed at empty air, as though he had seized something and was grinding it into smithereens, and then rubbed his fingertips together lightly.
Like he had received the order, the Poisonous Scorpion turned and leapt out of the window.
It was like the two people had put on a soundless puppet show.
Sun Ding raised his head slightly, a satisfied expression blooming on his face. He murmured to himself, "Xue Fang, you have finally...shown yourself."
He wrapped his coat tight around himself like a bat, and exited the room with a crazed smile on his face--he and Xue Fang had been grappling for eight years. How many more eight-years could a mortal on this earth have? It was time for a new Master of Fengya Mountain. Once he got rid of Xue Fang and got ahold of the Lapis Armour, Sun Ding believed, there was no one else in this world who could stand in his way.
No one else would restrict him from leaving that place of ghosts and demons, and he would finally eradicate the false righteousness and shallow sects--why talk about good and evil in this world?
There were no more than victors and losers.
Xue Fang's traces had been exposed; he was a sitting duck for Sun Ding to destroy in one fell swoop.
Concurrently, in that insignificant corner deep in the red light district, the Head Scorpion, dressed head to toe in black, was fiddling with a handful of black and white checkers. The checkers were separated from one another, and then shuffled together in the next moment. A smile lurking with intent slowly formed on his face.
Zhou Zishu and his party remained at the inn to await Lord Seventh and the Great Shaman. While they had been enjoying themselves in the Puppet Manor in Shuzhong, forgetting about the world outside as they existed in a blissful dream outside of time, the tense situation in the pugilist world of the Central Plains a hair's breadth away from chaos had reached the stage where the thousands of potential changes that could occur in a single breath were out of anyone's control.
Today, the five major clans had split; their alliances disintegrated long ago, their past glory now buried under three feet of yellow earth. Gao Chong and Zhao Jing were considered to be the only ones to have survived.
Gao Chong's wicked plot of colluding with Xue Fang, the Hanged Ghost from the Ghost Valley, to get rid of Zhao Jing, the last obstacle, was finally exposed when it failed, and the news threw the whole pugilist world into uproar.
In an instant, everything could be clearly explained--knowing the precise location of every piece of the Lapis Armour, and the weaknesses of every single person; able to steal the Lapis Armour from the Zhao Family Manor with ease, to manipulate all the heroes under the sky in the palm of his hand, to trick Shen Zhen out of the Lapis Armour, and steal from under his own tight surveillance...other than Hero Gao, the possessor of the Realm's Command, was there anyone else who could accomplish all these?
Those who had been duped so wholly finally saw the light. At once, many emotions surged within them, but they did not know how to articulate them.
Gao Chong died roaring with laughter, as though he had gone mad. The Hanged Ghost Xue Fang was injured and missing, Zhao Jing was heavily injured, and no one knew where the Lapis Armour was.
Subsequently, there were rumours that before the Huashan sect leader Yu Qiufeng had gone to the Shen Clan, he had schemed late into the night with Gao Chong in secrecy...on the day the Zhao Family Manor's Lapis Armour had gone missing, Yu Qiufeng's son, Yu Tianjie, had fled from the Zhao Family Manor late at night. At first, the masses had all believed that he was killed by the Hanged Ghost. However, the body that had been found was headless; reflecting upon it now, who could truly verify that the deceased was Yu Tianjie back then?
Did they still have to explain the winding complexities to this?
Deng Kuan was dead, Gao Xiaolian was missing. As though they had schemed it beforehand, everyone in the Gao Family Manor had scattered like a flock of alarmed creatures, and Yu Qiufeng's whereabouts were unknown--at present, the worst case was that all five pieces had landed in the hands of the Ghosts. The martial store of thirty years ago was about to be unlocked, and that demonic Six Harmonies Cultivation Mantra was about to be unveiled once more.
The darkest moment of the pugilist world in the Central Plains had descended.
On the seventh night they were staying at the inn, a good while after midnight, Zhou Zishu caught his breath after the torment of this night. Unable to sleep, he cradled a jar of wine in his arms, took a chipped bowl, and sat on the roof to sip at it.
Gu Xiang was sitting in the small courtyard, dazedly staring up at the sky, her back to Zhou Zishu. Even with her level of martial ability, she did not detect that there was someone on the roof behind her.
It was rare that she was not raucous; she sat there quietly with her chin in her hand, her long and slender legs outstretched. She was holding a blade of grass in her hand, and fiddled with it every now and then. With that manner of hers, she, in fact, gave one the feeling that she stood alone in the cold wind and dew, sober enough to know that the memory of starry nights of yesteryear were no more.
Wen Kexing pushed the door open and walked outside. Looking at the back of Gu Xiang's silhouette, he sighed all of a sudden, as though a thread of wistful melancholy was unfurling within him from seeing a daughter grown, under his wing. Slowly, he walked out of the room, raised his head to glance at Zhou Zishu, and then sat quietly by Gu Xiang's side.
Gu Xiang looked at him, and said without cheer, "Master."
Wen Kexing smiled. This smile of his did not have the ribald air of a ruffian, but was instead very faint, almost gentle. He asked, "Why, did you and Famous Scholar Cao have a tiff? Did he infuriate you?"
Gu Xiang continued to say without much cheer, "If he dares to, this old maid will castrate him."
Wen Kexing started to self-reflect. A proper maiden, who looked just like any other maiden; where had he erred in raising her, that she now had this sort of behaviour?
He yawned, patted her head roughly, and asked, "What is it then? It's the middle of the night and you are not asleep--what are you stewing in sorrow over in the courtyard?"
Gu Xiang gave him a listless glance, her chin in her hands, and did not speak.
Wen Kexing sighed. He patted Gu Xiang's head and said, "I say, why have you started going about to rescue people with that silly fool Cao Weining? Gathering merits by doing good deeds, too...why, are you afraid that the old men at Qingfeng Sword Sect will not allow Cao Weining to have you?"
Gu Xiang dropped her gaze. She puffed up her cheek and bit her lip, not saying a word, and picked at the tile on the ground with her index finger, as though she was still a very young girl.
When it came to contests of skill, she was fearless; of looks, she was equally dauntless, but she was afraid when it came to her status.
Even if she was undefeatable in martial arts, even if she was beautiful enough to topple cities, these could not triumph over her status. Claim that you're a maiden of good standing--who would believe you?
There was not even a single human at the foot of Fengya Mountain; could there be a maiden of good standing? That crazy, demented Master of the Ghost Valley had come across her when she was still an infant, and kept her by his side. She had neither father nor mother, and all that met her eye was either slaughter inflicted, or slaughter experienced--could she grow into a maiden of good standing?
Even Gu Xiang was lost. She had always gotten whatever she wanted, occasionally resorting to unscrupulous means, occasionally by being unreasonable and stubborn, and although her temper was nothing great at times...this was the first time she knew that she was a woman who did not belong to the light.
An ugly bride could still face the in-laws, but she was Purple Danger. She dared not.
Gu Xiang pondered about it for a long while, before she finally squeezed out a smile and told Wen Kexing, "That spouse of yours has it much better. He doesn't have to worry about mouths to feed once he's eaten his fill--doesn't have a gaggle of aunts hanging around...aiyo!"
Before she could even finish her sentence, an object struck her skull. She raised her head to see Zhou Zishu looking down at her from above on the roof. The wine bowl in his hand was missing, and he was looking at Gu Xiang with the hint of a smile.
In pain from the impact, Gu Xiang clutched her skull and said to Wen Kexing, "Why don't you keep him in check!"
Zhou Zishu glided down from the roof, patted Wen Kexing's shoulder, and instructed, "Go and warm your lord's bed."
Wen Kexing made a very solicitous sound of agreement, and went without a second word. Gu Xiang's eyes widened as she sucked in a deep breath. Either this world had been turned upside down, she thought, or she was having a nightmare.
Zhou Zishu sat on the ground, sighed, and said, "What are you worrying blindly for, untroubled as you are? I haven't even been worried--at first, I thought that I could still live well for a year and a half, but it looks like there actually isn't that much time now. According to the Great Shaman, my meridians cannot withstand my internal energy…this gongfu has become a burden instead. At any time, the candle of my life might sputter out, I'll kick the bucket, and go off to meet King Yama in Hell."
Gu Xiang stared at him with wide eyes, not knowing what to say. A very long while later, she finally said in a small voice, "You really have terrible luck."
Zhou Zishu did not harbour any expectations for her terrible mouth to produce any nice words, but upon hearing this, a laugh escaped him nevertheless. He shook his head and said, "Fuck you. Gu Xiang, if you weren't a young lass, I would have to beat you up eight times a day."
Gu Xiang carefully scooted away, eyeing Zhou Zishu guardedly. Then she saw that this man was only drinking and had no real intention of hitting her, and heaved a sigh of relief. She thought about it, and magnanimously comforted him, "Lord Seventh said that the Great Shaman might have thought of a solution, maybe it can really save you?"
Zhou Zishu held a sip of wine in his mouth, savouring its taste for a long while as though he could not bear to swallow it down. A very long moment later, he finally said, "It's tough."
Gu Xiang blinked, and frowned, as though she did not really understand. A long while later, she finally poked Zhou Zishu with the tip of her shoe, and asked, "Are you suicidal?"
Zhou Zishu cast a glance at her and said, "You're suicidal."
"If that's so, back then, why did you…"
Zhou Zishu started to smile.
As she looked at this man smile slowly, silently, Gu Xiang's heart started beating a little faster out of no reason at all. She shifted her gaze away quickly; people said that beautiful women were harbingers of disaster, but as it turned out, beautiful men were too, she thought. She heard Zhou Zishu say, "To me, there are only two paths in life--either live well, or die well. For this, I can tolerate much for a period of time, but no one should ever entertain the thought of stopping me."
He was a master of shrewd scheming, and soft-hearted at times, but when it was not the occasion for tenderness, his heart could be as unyielding as stone. He could be harsh on others, and could be harsh on himself too. He had always done as he wished, never withholding whatever he wanted as a heavy secret to bear in his heart. Even if he had paid a price that others would find too high for what it was worth, he never looked back, and never regretted his decision.
I throw my head back to laugh at the heavens, and proceed on my way; how can I be anyone mundane?
Zhou Zishu looked at Gu Xiang and said softly, "Lass, you decide who you are. Others have no say in this matter. I see that you are quite clever, but why do you not understand this?"
Gu Xiang listened to him, almost stupefied. Zhou Zishu finished the jar of wine in his hands, flung it to one side, and turned to return to his room.
He had just pushed the door open when a hand shot out of the darkness, gripped him tight, and slammed the door shut. Zhou Zishu did not put up any resistance, and let the man crash them down onto the bed. He lifted his gaze slowly to meet Wen Kexing's.
After a long stillness, Wen Kexing suddenly dipped his head, and attacked his lips in a biting kiss. His breathing, a little frenzied, had an indescribable danger to it. A long moment later, Zhou Zishu abruptly shoved him away, lifted his elbow to ram it under Wen Kexing's ribs, and flipped them over to cage Wen Kexing in between his hands below him. His loose, disheveled hair draped from his temples, and came to rest on Wen Kexing's chest. In the darkness, there was only that pair of eyes, startlingly bright.
Zhou Zishu asked, "If I die, would it not be a loss for you?"
Wen Kexing did not speak. Abruptly, he turned his face aside, and clamped his teeth down on Zhou Zishu's wrist, as though he wanted to drink his blood and feast on his flesh. Zhou Zishu's brow scrunched in pain, but he did not pull away, and let Wen Kexing bite him without a single word. Blood seeped out slowly, sliding down the corner of Wen Kexing's mouth onto the bed sheets, soaking a large patch of it in an instant.
After an indeterminate period of time, when Zhou Zishu's braced arms were starting to quiver slightly, Wen Kexing finally closed his eyes slowly, loosened his jaw, and licked at the wound that he had inflicted. Then he sat up, pulled Zhou Zishu into his arms, tapped on his acupoints to stop the bleeding, and said, "I will. I will have never been this ravaged by loss in my whole life."
Zhou Zishu smiled soundlessly, and said, "You madman."
The madman tore a strip of cloth from his own inner robes, bandaged Zhou Zishu's wrist, then whipped the blanket open and wrapped them up in it. And just like that, they fell asleep in each other's arms, steeped in the smell of blood.
After another three days, Lord Seventh and the Great Shaman finally arrived.