NANGONG SI flinched. "Mom?"
"The oath with the demon dragon can only be strengthened with fresh blood from the Nangong clan. It's you or him, so of course it must be him… He's just a pawn, a walking corpse… What right does he have to live on? He's an unfaithful husband; an unfit father; as a gentleman, he has no honor. He has no right to live. Who knows why Nangong Xu broke the lingchi curse in a moment of mercy—allowing him to live, for what? To play a fool?!"
Nangong Si stood rooted to the spot, as if he too had been made into a stiff and immovable pawn.
"Si-er, your mother has no choice; I can't do anything. You're the only one… You're the only one who can cast him into the Dragonsoul Pool. When his blood enters the pool…that ignoble…ignoble life of his will pay for everyone's safety. It will be a posthumous honor!"
Before Nangong Si could reply, he heard someone shouting by the Dragonsoul Pool. "What's going on?! Where'd these beetles come from?"
Beetles…?
The first shout was followed by a wave of screams, and the sound of Xue Zhengyong, Jiang Xi, and the others shouting orders. "Hurry," Rong Yan urged. "The bond with the dragon's tail has been broken. Only the last two bonds remain. Once they're gone, not even throwing him into the blood pool will be of any use."
Her voice woke Nangong Si from his daze.
"Why are you hesitating?!" Rong Yan shouted, "His own misdeeds brought Rufeng Sect so low, Si-er! Wake up! There's no other choice, you—!"
Her eyes rolled up, pupils contracting as Xu Shuanglin, finally at the limit of what he could allow, exerted his most vicious spiritual energy to regain control over her.
The last of Rong Yan's lucidity bled away, and a dreamlike expression surfaced on her face. She slowly rose and walked back to her spot in paradise, her eyes blank and unseeing. "Si-er," she murmured. "Tell me…what comes before 'if the whole world blamed him, he despaired not'?"
Nangong Si trembled where he knelt on the ground. No force controlled him, yet he felt stuck in a web with no hope of escape.
If the whole word praised him, he rejoiced not; if the whole world blamed him, he despaired not.
This was what his mother asked of him, but it was so hard—too hard. Whether it was making him memorize the incomprehensible Carefree Wandering or forcing him to shoot his bow until he could hit the bullseye nine times out of ten, it was all far too difficult. Now she was asking him to use his own father's blood to strengthen their oath with the demon dragon.
Through the sound of screaming, he knew how terrible the dragon's beetles were. He thought of Ye Wangxi, facing that tide of snakes alone in the dark—Ye Wangxi, who was waiting for him to return for her as soon as he could.
"Si-er…" His mother's voice called from behind him.
He drew his sword from its sheath and walked toward Nangong Liu.
He hated him. How could he not? When Nangong Si looked at this man—how could he not hate him? Tearing out his mother's heart, philandering with the sect leader of Jiangdong Hall, blackmailing Li Wuxin of Bitan Manor, demolishing Rufeng Sect overnight and leaving the ruins of sect and reputation for him and Ye Wangxi, who had wandered in fear like stray dogs—they were stray dogs—how could he not hate him?
He brandished his sword, and the blade's glare shone on Nangong Liu's face. Those aged features held the simple peace unique to children. Nangong Liu looked at Nangong Si, and Nangong Si's hand shook. He turned away. "Get up."
"Who are you? Why are you asking me to get up? I wanna stay here. I'm waiting for His Majesty…"
"What Majesty?" Nangong Si shouted, his pounding heart sending blood rushing through all his limbs. "That's your little brother! What the hell are you doing, Nangong Liu?! That's your little brother!"
"He's still His Majesty even if he's my brother." Scared, Nangong Liu curled into a ball again. "Don't be so mean, you… Why…why are you crying?"
Was I crying? Nangong Si wondered. Am I… Am I crying?
Bitter tears streamed down his cheeks, falling to the ground alongside the point of his sword. Nangong Si crumpled to his knees, howling in misery.
Why had it come to this?
He hated him. He hated his father enough to throw him into the Dragonsoul Pool and rebuild the oath between Mount Jiao and Wangli. So why couldn't he do it? This was the man who'd destroyed his home, destroyed his family. Why shouldn't he hate him?
But he couldn't do it. When the glare of his sword shone on that face, when he saw the crow's feet at the corners of those eyes, what rose in him was a memory from when he was a little boy, stumbling after Naobaijin in Moonwhistle Fields.
In his clumsiness, he had tripped. Rong Yan stood before him and looked down at her bawling child. "Get up."
But it hurt so much. It really hurt. He tried his best, he did all he could, but he couldn't get to his feet. He reached out, pleading for his mom to bend down, to give him a hand. Rong Yan never did. It was another pair of warm hands that scooped him from the ground, pulling him close to a broad chest. In the sunlight, he saw a face. A young, mild, and obsequious face. A face that was always gentle and conciliatory.
"Aiya, our Si-er needs help sometimes too." His father patted his hair, eyes kind. "If he could already get up by himself, what would he need Mom and Dad for?"
This was Nangong Si's very first memory of his dad. In this vast hall teeming with the walking dead, the only living man staggered to his feet without help from anyone. He stood up, then crashed back to his knees. Nangong Si kowtowed three times toward Rong Yan, knocking his head on the ground. Then he rose and turned to leave.
A hand tugged at his sleeve. Nangong Liu had stopped him.
His father took a tangerine from his basket and handed it to Nangong Si. After some thought, he peeled a segment and pressed it to Nangong Si's mouth. "Don't cry. I don't know what's wrong, but tangerines are sweet; they taste really good. I picked these myself. Try some."
Nangong Si didn't want to eat, but that orange segment was right there, in front of his lips. Nangong Liu handed it to him the same way he'd fed his son countless times in the past. The sweet tang of its juice filled his mouth. Nangong Si viciously swiped at his tears, then finally threw down the sword and strode out of the hall.
He walked right to the edge of the Dragonsoul Pool, where the fighting was in full swing.
The beetles the dragon's tail had become were ferocious. Many cultivators had already fallen, their blood winding in rivulets across the ground. The bugs were too small to target, and grandmasters like Chu Wanning and Jiang Xi could only protect the few people behind them. The room bubbled and seethed like stew in a cooking pot.
No one noticed Nangong Si's passage as he strode through the chamber.
A few hours ago, he'd lost his core and been reduced to a commoner, doomed to a life of mediocrity. Now, he thought perhaps fate knew of his aspirations. Although it hadn't treated him kindly, it had done him no wrong at the very end.
The only one he still owed a debt was…
His eyes strayed toward the tunnel that led to the Soul-Summoning Platform.
Ye Wangxi.
A smile broke across Nangong Si's face. Thank goodness he'd never had the time to thank her for staying with him, to thank her for always keeping her word. Thank goodness he hadn't had the time to tell her he finally understood her goodness, her affection, and wanted to stay with her forever. Otherwise, he'd have dragged a girl down with him for no reason. That would be…
Splash.
What would that be? He didn't finish the thought. If he had, he might've lost all his courage. He didn't finish the thought, and that roiling blood swallowed him whole. He didn't finish the thought before he became bones that dwindled to ash.
The last thing he ever did was untie the fastening at his waist and toss the quiver his mother had embroidered for him, with the howling faewolf Naobaijin inside, to the side of the pool.
In the moment he turned to dust, Nangong Si could feel everything, but nothing hurt. He seemed to hear, with perfect clarity, the quiver landing safely on the shore, Naobaijin's whining cries, even Chu Wanning's voice, raw, shouting his name in a rare loss of composure.
He wanted to respond. He wanted to say: Shizun… I accept you as my teacher. How could I not? To be honest, I remember everything. I remember bowing to you thrice beneath the flowering tree. But you didn't want me then. I have my own pride. I thought you looked down on me, so I pretended I was too young and had forgotten about it entirely. And later, when you wanted to accept me, I was scared of bringing you down too…
It's fine now. I have a shizun, I recited Carefree Wandering for Mom, and Ye Wangxi and Naobaijin are safe. Oh, and I got to eat a piece of tangerine before the end. He…peeled it himself… It tasted just like the ones he peeled for me when I was a child.
So very sweet.
Nangong Si's soul faded. Everything faded, became a fleeting illusion, a dream of the past. All of it vanished—consumed by the blood oath.
Brilliant light shone from the Dragonsoul Pool. A dragon's cry echoed through the walls, and in the light's wake, the rot was destroyed. It reduced to dust the dragontail beetles, dragonscale snakes, and those corpses outside propped up by dragon sinew. All collapsed into drifting powder.
When Ye Wangxi rushed out of the tunnel, covered in blood, she caught a final glimpse of Nangong Si in the frozen moment before his body sank into the pool. She saw light bursting from the pool, and the cultivators staring at it. She saw Naobaijin whimpering helplessly at its edge, and Chu Wanning, who'd lunged forward to grab him…
Her sword clanged as it hit the ground.
"A-Si—!"
A scream that shook the heavens.
Ye Wangxi was heavily wounded. She staggered forward; before she could reach the blood pool, before her tears could fall, the combined pain of it broke her completely. Snake venom spread throughout her body. She was chilled all over, freezing cold.
"A-Si…" She stumbled ahead, lips green as they parted, as she choked. Her tears streamed down—she couldn't hold herself up anymore. She crashed to the cold paving stones. Vision going dark, she crawled forward on bloodied hands, trying to drag herself toward him. Even though she knew it was too late, even though she'd seen Nangong Si step into the Dragonsoul Pool with her own eyes. Even though everything was already over. She couldn't accept it. How could she accept it… How could she ever accept it?!
If she persevered hard enough to reach the ledge, she thought wildly, that man would return. If she held on for another moment, Nangong Si would return to her side. He'd promised. In the snake tunnel, he'd promised—he said, It's too dark here; I know you don't like it. I'll come back as soon as I can.
Her tears fell without cease. She pressed on despite everything, deliriously, shakingly, slowly crawling toward the Dragonsoul Pool, its surface already calm, without a ripple.
I'm here. But what about you?
She saw only darkness; she felt only cold. Were vengeful ghosts closing in again? Were venomous snakes slithering toward them again? Can't you do what you've always done—seal them off with a paper talisman, and then turn around with fire in your eyes?
Can't you say "Stay with me, I'll protect you" again?
"Nangong Si… A-Si…" She sobbed, the sound tearing itself into a howl as she wept. "Come back! A gentleman's word, you have to keep your promise; come back!"
She wept until the poison and her wounds swallowed her. As she slipped into unconsciousness, the last thing she did was reach out to touch the edge of the Dragonsoul Pool, as if she could still take hold of his sleeve and keep him by her side.
Things were supposed to get better for them… A-Si's unruly core could be tamed, everyone's loathing would fade… They should have come out the other side. But darkness had fallen again. For her, there was no more hope of daybreak.
"A-Si," Ye Wangxi murmured. Her eyes finally fluttered shut.
The demon dragon's soul had quieted. Nangong Si had sacrificed himself to strengthen the tattered bond, and the blood pool now held Nangong Si's soul—this was not a magic Xu Shuanglin could break.
His reign here was over.
Xu Shuanglin wouldn't be able to control the smallest living thing on Mount Jiao. Nangong Si might not have had the unrivaled strength of Nangong Changying, but it was he who had destroyed Xu Shuanglin's sharpest weapon.
There was no sound but the soft cries of the wounded.
The light from the Dragonsoul Pool slowly faded. Mo Ran crossed to Chu Wanning, who sat with his head lowered and his eyes closed. The hands clutching Naobaijin were pale and ice-cold, veins protruding in a desperate attempt to stay composed.
"Shizun…"
Chu Wanning didn't say a thing. He placed Naobaijin next to Ye Wangxi, alongside Nangong Si's quiver, and rose, eyes misty. By the time he looked toward the passage that led to the Soul-Summoning Platform, that mist had become frost. With Tianwen glowing gold in his hand, he walked wordlessly into the pitch-black tunnel.
Mo Ran followed, and the rest of the disciples of Sisheng Peak stepped forward in silence. No one asked questions, nor spoke a word. All understood what it meant to be part of the vanguard, but all of them advanced, none shirking their duty. Behind them came Taxue Palace, then Guyueye…
Before Jiang Xi entered the tunnel, he tapped a few disciples adept at healing and defense. "Stay here and take care of the wounded—particularly Miss Ye. If any of those who still live die under your care, I'll deduct a full year of your spiritual stone salary."
"Understood, Sect Leader."
The door to the platform was already open. After their long and arduous journey, they'd arrived at the final section of Rufeng Sect's ancestral temple—Rufeng's sacrificial altar, the Soul-Summoning Platform.