CHU WANNING DIDN'T KNOW how long the kiss lasted before Taxian-jun released him. He thought Taxian-jun had had enough, only to feel their lips come together once more.
It took several more aborted attempts at stopping before Taxian-jun was finally sated. He licked his lips, black pupils fixed on Chu Wanning's face. "It's you. You haven't changed."
After all that had happened, there were too many questions to ask. Chu Wanning was still for a moment, then spoke up in a hoarse voice: "Do you still remember the past?"
"Of course."
"Do you remember how you died?"
Taxian-jun's face darkened. "The ten great sects joined forces and surrounded me. This venerable one was sick of it."
"Do you remember how I died?"
The storm clouds slowly cleared from Taxian-jun's brow, only to be replaced by a different kind of shadow. "You stood in my way at Taxue Palace. This venerable one wouldn't allow it."
"Then do you remember how you came back to life after you died?"
"Hua Binan revived me."
"How did he do it?"
"Naturally, he…" Before he could explain, a strange blankness came over Taxian-jun's face. He closed his eyes, but only for a moment. When he opened them again, they were clear and bright once more. Taxian-jun knit his brows. "What were you saying just now?"
Chu Wanning didn't reply. He had more or less guessed what Shi Mei had done to Taxian-jun's body. A person's heart was the most difficult thing to control. After Mo Ran had died, Shi Mei wasn't powerful enough to rule this revenant's turbulent emotions, and he didn't dare touch Mo Ran's already fractured memories. He had thus opted to prevent Mo Ran from defying certain orders by erasing the relevant memories. This Emperor Taxian-jun really was no more than a walking corpse.
Chu Wanning closed his eyes. Eventually, his lips parted again, as though to speak. But before he could get the words out, he tasted iron at the back of his throat and began to cough violently.
"Mo Ran…" he choked out between blood-stained lips. He raised his watering eyes. "Stop working for him. You're just an empty shell; you should've been laid to rest long ago. You—" He was cut off by another spate of coughs.
His vision flashed dark, shattered memories threatening to engulf him once more. You should go back to the past. You've already entered your eternal rest; you don't belong here.
But Chu Wanning didn't have the strength to say this. His lips twitched one last time as his awareness began to fade. The last thing he saw was Taxian-jun's frowning face, his pallid, handsome features tense with worry as his lips formed a name.
"Chu Wanning." He hazily heard Taxian-jun calling to him, just like in the past life. "Wanning…"
He closed his eyes. The agony of his souls knitting back together rushed up again, and he knew no more.
Many mountains away, the leaves rustled in a forest in Sichuan. In recent days, misty rains had fallen continuously over the region. Even the wooden window lattice of the delivery outpost was beginning to darken with a faint layer of mildew. From its little window, one could watch drops of water falling one by one from the bamboo leaves outside, like beads rolling off a string. As they dripped into the puddles below, gentle ripples rose in their wake.
Without warning, a pair of shoes splashed through the water, shattering the peaceful reflection of the clouds.
Mo-zongshi had arrived before the winding path leading up to Sisheng Peak.
Since descending Dragonblood Mountain, his spiritual energy had yet to recover; he couldn't travel by sword. Yet so anxious was he about Sisheng Peak's safety that he'd rushed from Dragonblood Mountain entirely on foot, making the journey in a scant four days.
Along the way, he'd had time to think about many things. He thought about why he had been reborn, and why the past life's Chu Wanning had left that spell in the cave on Dragonblood Mountain. He thought about Shi Mei.
He pondered it all over the four days of his journey, but arrived at no satisfactory answer to any of his questions. He'd never been a clever person. In his current state—beset by torment and worry—he found himself unable to see anything clearly. Shi Mei knew him too well: Chu Wanning was his weakness. If Chu Wanning remembered his past life, it was tantamount to a death sentence for Mo Ran. His heart twisted in knots.
The rain fell faster. Mo Ran stood in the wind at the bottom of the steps leading up to Sisheng Peak. He lifted his head, rain-silvered locks framing his face. The stone stairway unfurled before him, winding its way up to the summit wreathed in mist.
He'd walked this mountain path through all the joys and sorrows of life and death. Across two lifetimes, he'd ascended these stairs countless times, from his naïve teen years to this final reckoning today, as he returned to answer for his crimes.
The day was cold, with bits of sleet mixed in with the rain. His black robes were slowly soaking through, his temples sodden and icy. These days of his youth should have been carefree, but the chill north wind turned his hair white with snow…
Mo Ran closed his eyes. He stepped onto the long staircase, climbing toward the top of the mountain. At last, he pushed open the red-lacquered doors of Sisheng Peak's Loyalty Hall—a fugitive walking straight into a well-laid trap.
The door creaked as it swung ponderously open. For two lifetimes, all of his madness and glory, his nightmares and sins, had been tied to this place. In his past life, at the age of twenty-two, he'd changed Loyalty Hall's name to Wushan Palace. He'd smashed the sign hanging above the door, reducing it to billowing dust. Standing before those ruined words, he vowed to trample the world's cultivators underfoot, to rule over all under heaven.
In that lifetime, he'd tumbled into the abyss here. In this lifetime, he would likewise meet his end beneath this roof.
Loyalty Hall was packed with people. The crowd contained even more notable figures than the group that had trekked up Mount Jiao to apprehend Xu Shuanglin. All of them turned at the creak of the door. They saw a tall man standing before the threshold. His complexion was wan, his bedraggled hair plastered limply to his forehead. Behind him, icy rain swirled down from the leaden sky.
Nobody had expected Mo Ran would appear so suddenly. Was this the hero who'd led everyone to safety on Mount Jiao, or the monster who'd slaughtered so many at Guyueye? Who was he, really?
For a moment, no one spoke. Every pair of eyes was fixed on the travelworn man who'd reappeared in their midst. Those who trusted him found him pitiable. He was wet and cold, like a dog who'd trudged home through the rain. Those who distrusted him found him terrifying. He was forebodingly wretched, like a ghost who'd crawled out of hell.
The rain pummeled the roof and its dark eaves, seeping into the cracks in the stone walkway and running over the moss growing on the shingles. Mo Ran looked up, his night-dark eyes wet beneath dense lashes like two black fans. "Uncle, I'm back," he said softly.
"Ran-er! Why—why are you by yourself?" Xue Zhengyong was sitting in the sect leader's seat. His face was lined with anxiety, and he wasn't dressed as neatly as usual. His iron fan had been haphazardly tossed onto the table, the words Others Are Ugly shimmering faintly, as if offering commentary on this farcical scene. "Where's Yuheng?"
Mo Ran took a step into the hall. He was like a drop of water landing in a pot of roiling oil, sending up a raucous splatter. Almost everyone simultaneously drew back from the doors.
"Mo Ran!"
"You monster! The nerve of you to show your face now!"
"You killed so many at Guyueye, yet you dare return here!"
Mo Ran ignored these shouts. He'd heard news of the bloody massacre at Guyueye on his way to Sisheng Peak. He knew better than anyone that Taxian-jun was deranged—what were a few dozen lives to him? Even the deaths of a hundred or a thousand hardly tipped the scale. To his mind, all the world's inhabitants amounted to no more than a swarm of walking corpses. Taxian-jun would think nothing of slaughtering all of Guyueye.
"Lunatic… You and Hua Binan are working together!"
"What are you trying to pull? The best fighters from every sect are here right now, and the master of Tianyin Pavilion is on her way. No matter how slippery you are, you won't be able to worm your way out of this one!"
"You really had us, Mo Ran—playing the hero one moment and the villain in the next. Do you think your schemes will succeed if you confuse the hell out of everyone? You're despicable!"
Accusations and taunts rushed toward him like a tide; faces etched with fury pressed in. But Mo Ran ignored them all as he continued forward.
By now, he'd understood what Hua Binan intended for him. Hua Binan—for Mo Ran didn't wish to call him Shi Mei—had dug a grave for Mo Ran. He'd already inscribed his name on the tombstone. Hua Binan was certain Mo Ran would jump into the grave of his own accord. The instant Chu Wanning remembered the events of the past life, Mo Weiyu had sentenced himself to death. He was beyond saving. Everything was over.
"No matter how many masks you wear, the heroes assembled here today will expose your true face."
"We'll send you to Tianyin Pavilion for sentencing!"
The crowd shouted and jeered. Over and over, their most frequently repeated refrain was Tianyin Pavilion.
Mo Ran hadn't expected Hua Binan to involve Tianyin Pavilion. Was it coincidence? Or part of a larger plot?
The lofty Tianyin Pavilion was an ancient sect established in the cultivation realm thousands of years ago. Their first leader had been the son of a god and a mortal, and the mantle of the pavilion master was thereafter passed down through his bloodline. Although the divine blood flowing through each new master's veins grew thinner with the generations, their spiritual energy remained bountiful. Tianyin Pavilion did not often meddle in mortal affairs, but just as commoners believed in the power of cultivators, so too did cultivators believe in the righteousness of Tianyin Pavilion.
The longer any authority was enshrined, the harder it became to overthrow. In the past life, Taxian-jun had aspired to rule all the vast lands of the realm, but he'd left Tianyin Pavilion untouched. This maneuver of placing Mo Ran's sentencing in the hands of Tianyin Pavilion was an astute one. No one would—or could—challenge the verdict.
The noisy crowd parted before Mo Ran as he walked down the pollia-embroidered carpet. When he reached the front of the hall, he came to a stop. "I…"
With this single word, the hubbub died down. Everyone trained their eyes on him, many of their stares hateful and wary. They were waiting for him to talk back, to panic, to misstep. They were craning their necks in anticipation, ready to throw themselves at this evil monster and tear him to shreds. They didn't know if this man was good or evil, or what, precisely, he had done. But they would rather kill the wrong man than let him go; they would stop at nothing to—
"I've come to confess my crimes."
A hush fell over the crowd, a fuller silence than before. The assembled cultivators were like soldiers sharpening their sabers amidst the thunder of war drums and savage cries of battle—only to receive the sudden news that the enemy general had killed himself in his tent rather than fight. How utterly absurd.
"What did he say?"
It was a moment before someone finally reacted. Unable to believe this villain would admit his guilt so easily, one woman quietly asked her neighbor, "Did he say he's here to confess his crimes?"
Lashes lowered, Mo Ran knelt before his aunt and uncle and a deathly pale Xue Meng. The hazy lamplight fell upon his handsome, gaunt face. He intended to bare his neck for the executioner's blade, yet he was also unwilling to comply so readily with Hua Binan's schemes. Before his own reckoning came, there was one more thing he needed to do.
He hadn't much strength remaining, but he would exhaust it all to protect the man he'd never be able to protect again.
Mo Ran began to speak, slow and somber. "My hands are indeed covered in blood. Because of a personal grievance, I killed many people. For years, I've wanted to repent, but my crimes are unpardonable. Chu Wanning has already learned of this matter… I wish to lay bare my wrongs before you all today, and also to make another declaration."
Here he paused before letting the next words fall like a knife carving out his heart. "Chu Wanning and I are no longer master and disciple."
Most of the crowd gaped in astonishment. "What's going on?"
In the cultivation realm, it was considered a major scandal for a teacher and student to publicly part ways; such a falling out damaged the reputations of both parties. As such, a master and disciple would strive to maintain the outward appearance of harmony even if their relationship was uncomfortably strained, so long as the grudges between them weren't impossibly bloody or deep.
Once the initial shock passed, many began to mutter among themselves. "Weren't they getting along just fine before? What changed so suddenly? He'd better not be trying to trick us."
"Look at him—it doesn't seem like he's faking. Did something happen on Mount Jiao?"
"It's possible… Chu Wanning doesn't seem to place much value in his disciples. When Hua Binan captured Shi Mingjing, didn't he dawdle instead of rushing over to save him? Shi Mingjing was blinded… If I were his disciple, I'd be disillusioned too."
Their murmurs ebbed and flowed like a tide.
Voice rising over the chatter, Mo Ran continued. "He didn't tolerate my crimes, but that's not the main reason I wish to sever our ties. He has always treated me coldly and insulted my dignity. He speaks constantly of his compassion for the common people, yet he's so cruel to his disciples—a hypocrite! If it weren't for him, I would've never walked down this path."
It hurt too much. Mo Ran paused, his teeth chattering. But he had to press on; he had to keep dragging this blade across his skin.
"He mistreated me and misunderstood me. He and I don't share the same goals, and I'm ashamed to have chosen him as my teacher. From now on, Chu Wanning and I have nothing to do with one another. If anyone refers to me as his disciple after today…" He raised his eyes—Taxian-jun's eyes. "The very thought makes me sick. I beg of you all to never speak of it again!"
"Ran-er!" Xue Zhengyong gasped in horror.
"Ge, are you crazy?" Xue Meng cried, his face ashen. "Do you know what you're saying?"
Mo Ran closed his eyes. He couldn't bear to look at anyone in Xue Meng's family. Even that single cry of Ge was like a talon piercing his chest.
"There's one more thing I want to announce," Mo Ran said.
"A confession is a confession. What's with all these announcements and declarations? You—"
Before the protester could finish, Jiang Xi, the cultivation world's current leader, raised a hand for silence. Eyes on Mo Ran, he commanded, "Please continue."
"I have indeed committed terrible crimes and deserve to be punished in accordance with our laws," said Mo Ran. "However, what happened at Guyueye had nothing to do with me."
Many of the cultivators present had come to avenge debts of blood. Their emotions had been running high since they arrived. Hearing Mo Ran deny his involvement in Guyueye's murders, they could no longer restrain themselves.
"Bullshit!" someone shouted. "How do you think you can argue against eyewitness testimony?"
"That's right—who else could it have been?"
"I was never at Guyueye," answered Mo Ran. "During that time, Chu Wanning and I were both on Dragonblood Mountain. Someone else is the culprit. If I'm not mistaken, it's…"
He hesitated to name Taxian-jun. It wasn't that he feared the crowd's fury—rather, he was certain no one would believe anything so absurd as a second Mo Ran coming into this world through the Space-Time Gate.
"Who?" someone piped up.
Mo Ran pressed his lips together, resolving to wait a little before mentioning Taxian-jun. "I'll get to that later," he said instead. "At any rate, he is working with Hua Binan. One of them appeared at Guyueye to frame me, while the other abducted Chu Wanning."
Two types of cries rose up from the crowd: The first was weaker, yet still possible to make out, and came mostly from Sisheng Peak's disciples.
"What happened to the Yuheng Elder?!"
"Where did they take the elder?!"
The second was voiced by those who'd come to condemn and criticize. "Mo Ran, did you think we'd believe such a ridiculous story?"
"What the hell are you smoking? How could someone else be responsible—you're on the same side as Hua Binan! You two put on quite the performance on Mount Jiao. Killing so many people didn't faze you at all. Shi Mingjing is your own shixiong, yet you didn't hesitate to maim him! You—you heartless liar!"
At Shi Mei's name, Mo Ran slowly raised his head. He looked up at Xue Zhengyong, then glanced at Xue Meng. "About Shi Mei, he…"
Sick with worry, Xue Meng staggered forward a step. "What happened to Shi Mei? Is he okay?"
Mo Ran found himself unable to meet Xue Meng's eyes. He'd seen that kind of shattered expression on his face once before; once was more than enough.
"Shi Mei is Hua Binan," Mo Ran said, eyes still closed.
The entire hall fell silent. A moment later, Xue Meng dropped back into his seat. "Stop joking. How's that even possible…"
If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes and heard it with his own ears, Mo Ran would've thought the same. Shi Mei was gentle and good. The three of them had been through so much together. Shi Mei was the first real friend his own age he'd ever had. But this friendship turned out to be a sham, like the lovely reflection of the moon on water. It was a travesty from beginning to end.
The onlookers began to mutter among themselves. "What kind of nonsense is this?"
"He's lost his mind. How could that little cultivator be the world's foremost medicinal sage?"
"If Shi Mei was Hua Binan, why would he help us with the heart-tunnelers on Mount Jiao?"
One of the people Shi Mei had rescued was deeply grateful toward their savior. Heedless of any consequence, he pointed a shaking finger and cried, "Mo Ran, the gall you have to tell these brazen lies to clear your name! This is slander!"
Jiang Xi, who'd been listening with his brow furrowed in silence, now spoke up as well. "What evidence do you have that Hua Binan is Shi Mingjing? Hua Binan has worked in my sect for many years. During that time, he hardly ever left Guyueye. If he, like you say, is actually Shi Mingjing, how do you explain how he can appear in two places at the same time?"