WHEN A CANDLE burned out, only darkness lingered. When a fire went out, only ashes remained. Yet even darkness was once bright, and even ashes were once warm. Mo Ran too had once had days of light and warmth. But no one would know, and no one would care.
He had spent his last sparks of spiritual energy. He watched as the birds scattered and the undead soldiers crumpled, watched as the living regained their senses and the pawns fell apart. He saw the black tide about to swallow Sisheng Peak retreating and watched as the apocalypse was averted.
All of them thought him a despicable criminal, and he didn't disagree. But the demon had finally done something worthy of a god. Chu Wanning was his candle, and he had clumsily followed his light.
"Ge!"
"Ran-er!"
Fuzzily, he heard people calling his name. He saw Xue Meng stumbling forward out of the corner of his eye, saw Xue Zhengyong and Madam Wang breaking through the crowd and running toward him.
Their voices brought him profound relief. He showed his teeth, attempting to smile, but tears streaked down his bloodstained face. He wanted to say, I'm sorry, it's all my fault. But his throat was choked with sobs, and he could only plead: "Don't hate me."
I really… I really loved all of you. I loved Auntie and Uncle, loved Sisheng Peak, loved this stolen warmth and stolen family. Auntie, Uncle, Xue Meng. Please don't hate me.
That dread army was beaten back. Mo Ran collapsed into the dirt.
When Chu Wanning had fainted from his wounds in the past life, his white robes had been stained with blood, but he had still seemed pristine. He and Mo Ran were not the same—Mo Ran had always been caked in filth.
In the moment before he lost consciousness, Mo Ran felt Madam Wang's soft embrace. "Ran-er," she cried, voice cracking with heartbreak.
He heard Xue Zhengyong confronting Mu Yanli. "A plot?" he was shouting. "What plot?! If he summoned these chess pieces, why would he go so far to save us?!"
He heard Xue Meng howling. "Don't touch him! Don't touch him! Don't take him away!"
Everything was a mess. Mo Ran wanted to explain—he had more to say, but he was so very, very tired.
He closed his eyes.
In Mount Jiao's Hall of Sages, the everbright lamps glowed steadily. The whale-oil candles were as thick and stout as bowls. Here, there was no light from the stars or sun. Only the candles weeping their waxen tears tracked the passage of time.
Shi Mei sat on the dais in a cloak of white fox fur. His forehead rested in his hand, eyes closed in meditative repose.
This had been Xu Shuanglin's preferred seat. Shi Mei had watched as Xu Shuanglin refined his Zhenlong chess pieces and created heaven and hell, wishing wholeheartedly to bring his shizun back to life. He'd found Xu Shuanglin terribly interesting. It was a shame he couldn't keep him around in the end.
Before Shi Mei lay an enspelled silk scroll, covered in flaring words and all manner of colored dots. This was the sand table Taxian-jun had created for the Zhenlong Chess Formation. Each black dot represented a black Zhenlong chess piece; silver connoted white pieces, and red the discarded pawns. The small squares scattered over the scroll represented their enemies. With this sand table before him, he had a clear view of the battle no matter where he was.
Shi Mei had unrolled the scroll upon the table but only glanced at it. He'd only set it up out of idle curiosity; he knew precisely what Mo Ran would choose. Taxian-jun would have had countless paths out of the snare, but Mo-zongshi had only one. There was nothing much to observe.
After a while, the doors of the hall opened. Soft footsteps rustled through the room. Shi Mei didn't look up. "You're here?"
A man's feet came to a stop upon the well-lit brick floor. He wore a snow-white cloak, the edge of his hood pulled low to shadow his face. He stood in the center of the hall with perfect poise. When he spoke, his voice was low but clear. "I just got word that Mo Ran shattered all of the pawns Taxian-jun created."
Shi Mei's eyelashes didn't so much as flutter. "Mn," he said peaceably. "It's not like he had much of a choice."
"Taxian-jun's body is falling apart. Those chess pieces he made started draining your spiritual energy ages ago. Now that Mo Ran's used his core to break them, you'll be free of them as well. This is a good thing."
"Oh?" Shi Mei smiled. "Are you worried about me?"
The man in white didn't answer. After a long beat, he asked, "What will you do next?"
"The plan hasn't changed." Shi Mei stirred at last. Stretching, he blinked open those peach-blossom eyes, and the whole room brightened with his smile. "Haven't we gone over this?"
"I know you've planned it out, but you must think this through. Mo Ran paid a heavy price to stop those Zhenlong pawns. These cultivators aren't idiots; there's no way they won't become suspicious."
Shi Mei smiled. "I know what you mean. Averting a terrible disaster for the cultivation world by shattering his own core—what a hero."
"Do you think the cultivation realm will interrogate their heroes?"
Shi Mei didn't answer right away. Still smiling, he wove his slender fingers together and propped his chin on top. "Don't you think Mo Ran's choice resembles Chu Wanning's actions in the past life?" he asked sweetly.
The man in white was quiet a moment. "Yes. A direct re-enactment, more or less."
"Then let me ask you this: When Chu Wanning was taken prisoner by Taxian-jun, how many people from the cultivation world cared? How many remembered him?"
Silence.
The smile on Shi Mei's face grew more radiant still. "Barely anyone, wasn't it? I've told you before. Xue Meng went everywhere seeking aid. In the beginning, there were people who shed a tear or two and promised to help him storm Sisheng Peak in a rescue mission. But what then? All those promises were empty air in the face of Taxian-jun's might. As time passed—as those feelings faded—those same people began to find Xue Meng irritating. When he next came begging, they changed their tune. How long has Chu Wanning been there, they asked. Who knows if he's still alive? Is it worth sacrificing people's lives for a man who might very well be already dead?"
The man in white shook his head. "No one knew what had happened to Chu Wanning. Mo Ran is right there in their midst, alive and well. Whatever their capacity for cruelty, they won't harm someone who just bled for the cultivation realm."
Shi Mei couldn't help a sigh. "Oh, you. You're still young—still naïve."
He rolled up the scroll on the table. The pawn markings had all turned red—out of commission. Unbothered, he stuffed it back into his qiankun pouch. "Everyone's noble when it doesn't touch their own interests. Their true nature emerges when it's their turn to suffer." His slender fingers knotted the string of the qiankun pouch. "To them," he said as he looked up, "Mo Ran might be an innocent man framed, or he might be a duplicitous villain. It'd be a shame to harm an innocent man, of course—but sparing a villain would bring bloody catastrophe down upon the entire cultivation world."
Seeing his listener rapt with attention, Shi Mei continued eagerly, "Perhaps he averted disaster by shattering his spiritual core, but too many things about him are suspicious. People are mistrustful by nature; their first priority is to rid themselves of anything that could pose a threat to them. This little detour won't change the outcome."
"Then you think Tianyin Pavilion will still take Mo Ran?" asked the man in white.
Shi Mei smiled. "Tianyin Pavilion is on our side, and everything's gone according to plan. Of course they'll take him. Once we have the shards of Mo Ran's spiritual core, Taxian-jun will be pliable again. With his strength, there's nothing we can't accomplish."
The man in white hesitated. "You've had control of him for close to a decade in the other world. What have you accomplished?"
Shi Mei froze, as if the man's directness had needled him. Frowning, he didn't respond for a long beat. "What do you mean by this?" he asked at last, eyes narrowed. "Are you questioning me?"
"No, I'm not." The man in white sighed. "We have the same goal in mind; I'm afraid no one on earth knows you better than I do."
Shi Mei's expression thawed somewhat, but his beautiful eyes remained fixed on the man's face as if assessing the truth of his words. Pursing his thin lips, he said, "It's good that you understand. Everything I've done is to take back what's ours. All of our sacrifices have been unavoidable."
"Of course."
"You're right, you do know me best," murmured Shi Mei. "In these two lifetimes, I've lived every day on a knife's edge. There's truly no one I can trust, aside from you." He paused. "Don't let me down."
Shi Mei's voice seemed to hover in the air like a butterfly after the words left his lips. A long, fraught silence passed before the man in white spoke once more. "There's a question I've been meaning to ask you," he said, placid.
"What is it?"
Overhead, storm clouds rolled in around Mount Jiao; leaves rustled on the slopes. The wind howled pitifully, like the wailing of a thousand displaced, wandering souls.
"I want to know what you sacrificed for our goal in the past life. Tell me the truth."
At this unexpected line of questioning, a furrow appeared between Shi Mei's brows. His eyes glinted. "Didn't I tell you ages ago? A few innocent people had to die, but this is to be expected. Just think about what we've gone through, and then you'll—"
"How many is 'a few'?" The man in white's soft yet determined voice cut through Shi Mei's answer, rendering him mute. His brows knit in a dark scowl, a look wholly uncharacteristic on his features. Shi Mei had always been mild and reserved, but it seemed he didn't care about baring his fangs in front of this man—as if his listener couldn't see the murderous intent on his face at all.
"A few is a few. Shall I make a registry of all the innocent dead so you can personally look it over?"
The man in white chuckled. "Enough," he murmured. "You know as well as I do that I won't be looking anything over anymore."
Silence stretched between them.
"I've always done my best to help you," the man in white said. "I've assisted you for years, ever since you found me and told me about the previous lifetime. When you concealed yourself within Guyueye, I did everything you asked of me from Sisheng Peak. Even when I felt confused and unsure, I knew your thoughts and goals were my own. For the sake of this mission of ours, I've long stopped caring whether I live or die. I never cared about sacrificing myself as long as we could succeed. I thought you were the same."
Shi Mei surged to his feet and paced around the room. "What do you mean by that? You say you stopped caring whether you live or die—are you implying I'm a coward who'd do anything to keep my life?" He shook out his sleeves, staring icily at the white-clothed man. "If you knew what kind of person I am, you'd never imply anything of the sort."
"I do know," said the man in white. "But I've been thinking—after you faked your death in the previous lifetime and stepped behind the scenes as Hua Binan, you had ten years to control the gu flower in Mo Ran's heart."
"Eight," Shi Mei corrected him. "Later, Chu Wanning split his souls and pushed what remained inside Mo Ran—thus giving him back some of his original nature. He was under my control for eight years before he killed himself, not ten."
"Okay, eight years then. In those eight years, you intensified the hatred in his heart and goaded him into committing all sorts of atrocities, but he drifted further and further from our original plan. Why didn't you stop him then?"
Shi Mei laughed from sheer anger. "Do you know how hard it is to create one Flower of Eightfold Sorrows?"
A pause. "I do."
"Do you know the enchantment would never work a second time on someone who's already had the curse uprooted?"
"I do."
Shi Mei wasn't smiling anymore. Fury flashed in his eyes. "Then what are you trying to say? What would you have done if it were you?"
The man in white paused, then sighed. "Haven't you decided for me?"
Shi Mei fell silent.
"I've never done those things or walked that path myself. I know I'd make the same choice if it were me in your place, but…"
Shi Mei narrowed his eyes, stalking down the stairs at the foot of the dais. He came to a stop before the man in white. "But what?"
"…I still have guilt on my conscience."
There was a moment of dead silence. Then Shi Mei grabbed the stranger by the lapels. His incomparably beautiful hand, with that serpent ring coiled around his delicate thumb, was now fisted tightly in the stranger's robes as tendons bulged from his fair skin.
"Guilt on your conscience? What difference is there between you and me? Everything we've done thus far—did you not plot each and every move with me? Did you not perfectly understand what each entailed? What happened to all the ruthlessness you had back then? Yet now you feel guilt? Why?" Every word came pushed through gritted teeth. "Is it because Xu Shuanglin saw you as a friend, although you lied to him every step of the way? Do you feel guilt because you taught him a fake Rebirth technique so he'd open the Space-Time Gate for us?"
"He never sold me out," the man in white whispered. "Even until death."
Shi Mei blinked, confusion and anger swirling in his eyes. "Very well—I did wonder what had you so worked up. What else? You saw those thousands of pawns and felt pity for them? You blame yourself?"
The man in white remained calm in the face of this outburst. "Did you never blame yourself? Not even a little?"
"You…" Shi Mei ground his teeth, madness and derision flashing in his gaze. He stared at the man before him for a very long time, as if gazing upon a colossal disappointment or a sickening traitor. Then, as if a truly cruel thought had come to mind, he burst out laughing. He unsheathed his venomous claws and drove them into the man's flesh. "Very well, very well. You've said so many pretty words, what with all your guilt and self-blame. But in the end, it's something else you're really upset about, isn't it?"
The glint in Shi Mei's eyes brightened at the sight of the man's brows furrowing in confusion. Like a vulture wheeling in the sky, hovering as he waited for his prey's final rattling breath before swooping down to dine.
"Coming to interrogate me like this—you believe you feel remorse after seeing all those Zhenlong pawns at work. You believe you feel regret after watching Xu Shuanglin die, but I know you. I know your heart better than anyone—guilt and self-blame don't exist in you. You and I are equally cold and unfeeling."
That vulture's wings cast the long shadow of death, beating down lower and darker. "You feel no remorse at all. Stop fooling yourself."
He smiled once more, proud and composed. Shi Mingjing was always at his most graceful and poised when holding someone else by the throat. "If you ask me," he said slowly, "what you really mourn is the loss of your eyes."
Shi Mei whipped out the dagger at his waist. Using the hilt, he raised the hood of the man's white cloak until it fell back onto the man's shoulders. Beneath that fur-trimmed hood was a face of astonishing beauty, its exquisite features elegant beyond compare.
Face to face, the two men were identical—save that the white-cloaked Shi Mei's eyes were obscured by a white ribbon, a few tendrils of dark hair falling before it.
Shi Mei stared at the man, now stripped of his hood, and scoffed. "Shi Mingjing, take a good look at yourself. You only grieve that you've sacrificed more than I have. The situation on Mount Jiao was critical; to distract Chu Wanning, we had to use the last resort we discussed. With so many people watching, we couldn't just put on an act. You were blinded while I was unharmed. You're jealous."
"If I were jealous, I wouldn't have agreed to the plan in the first place. I wouldn't have prepared to sacrifice myself in the worst case. It doesn't matter which one of us survives to finish this, as long as one of us does. Why would I—"
Before he could finish, the other Shi Mei cut him off with a sharp, "Who's there?"
The dagger in his hand flew out, burying itself in a stone pillar. Shi Mei turned, voice cold. "Come out."
Huang Xiaoyue emerged from behind the pillar, looking much worse for wear.
He'd betrayed all the other cultivators on Mount Jiao in search of Rufeng's legendary hidden treasure chamber. Unfortunately, he'd triggered a mechanism and ended up locking his entire party inside the chamber. The treasure trove of Rufeng Sect contained all sorts of precious artifacts, sword manuals, and secret records—but it contained no food. All of Jiangdong Hall had become trapped inside. A bloody slaughter ensued, the strong quickly overpowering the weak. The sect members had consumed each other until only Huang Xiaoyue remained.
Some time after he'd eaten his very last disciple, Huang Xiaoyue at last struggled his way out of the chamber only to stumble upon this freakish tableau.
What was this? Two Shi Mingjings?
Huang Xiaoyue hadn't the faintest idea what he was looking at. The outside limit of his imagination was to assume they were twins; it would never occur to him that these were two Shi Meis from different worlds, united by the Space-Time Gate.
The longer he listened to their conversation, the more alarmed he grew. Huang Xiaoyue had always been sly and calculating; he saw almost immediately that he needed to escape. Yet Shi Mei had managed to catch him.
Shi Mei leveled him with a glare. "I was wondering who could have snuck in here. Looks like it's just an old rat." His gaze drifted down, registering the blood on Huang Xiaoyue's robes. "Blood? There are no animals on Mount Jiao. Where did all this blood come from?" He paused, comprehension dawning. "Human blood?" Every syllable dripped derision.
Sensing danger, Huang Xiaoyue whirled to run.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Like a hawk, Shi Mei soared through the air in a flutter of green robes and landed gracefully before Huang Xiaoyue. Those eyes as beautiful as misty rain looked up with a gaze cold enough to turn that mist to ice. "You must not know how I hate cannibals, old geezer."
They were the last words Huang Xiaoyue ever heard.
The stench of blood filled the hall. Shi Mei watched as Huang Xiaoyue collapsed, scarlet spurting from a fresh hole in his chest. Frowning in distaste, he wiped the blood from his hand. "Disgusting."
He turned and stared for a beat at the other Shi Mei, then softened his tone. "See that? Over these two lifetimes, there have been no shortage of beasts like Huang Xiaoyue in the cultivation world. The cards are due to be reshuffled. Don't overthink things. I told you I wouldn't let your sacrifices go to waste. Once our plan succeeds, I'll find a way to heal your eyes."
No response came. Shi Mei rolled his eyes. "Stop being so stubborn," he said dispassionately. "Fine, have it your way—I promise I won't harm any more innocents if I can help it. Will that do? Are you happy now?"
Some of the tension finally melted from the white-cloaked Shi Mei's stance. His lips parted as if to respond, but his other self was too annoyed to hear more. He stalked out of the ancestral hall without looking back.