IN ANSWER to his summons, a vicious blade wreathed in coruscating golden light burst into existence in his hand.
Everyone's jaws dropped. Tianyin Pavilion's high-level disciples first stepped back in alarm, then squared their shoulders to meet him. "Don't retreat!" one of them shouted. "We can't let them go!"
"Evil must be vanquished! Pull it out by the roots!"
Both sides had advanced too far to withdraw. The atmosphere crackled with tension.
"Now!"
The platform exploded with light and sound like water falling into a pot of sizzling oil. A flurry of spells and sharp blades whirled toward the center, where Chu Wanning held Mo Ran. Chu Wanning parried with Huaisha, its piercing golden light repulsing each blow. He stood alone against that rushing tide of cultivators. His phoenix eyes—reflecting the sword glares and spattering blood—were eerily calm.
To guard Mo Ran, he would offer up his sword, his body, his life, and all his innocence from this point onward. No one would listen to his explanations; no one would allow these two desperate, trapped beasts a path of escape. There was no hope, no salvation, no faith, no light.
All they had left was one another.
"Mo Ran, hang in there. I'll get you out of here."
A curse struck Chu Wanning's arm; bright blood spurted from a gash that cut to the bone. But Chu Wanning only bit his lip and swung his sword.
"Watch out!" a cultivator yelled in alarm. "Get out of the way!"
Huaisha's might was terrifying to behold. This single stroke raised a boom like a clap of thunder as sand flew into the air. Tendrils of sword qi lashed out, and an abyssal chasm opened in the earth at Chu Wanning's feet.
"Chu Wanning!" Mu Yanli cried sharply. "Do you not recognize the will of heaven?" Receiving no answer, she raged, "Do you intend to openly oppose the descendants of the gods? To violate divine ordinance?!"
"Stand down, Beidou Immortal," someone shouted from the crowd of spectators. "Do you want to become a criminal within the cultivation realm?!"
Huaisha's explosive spiritual energy prevented anyone from drawing closer. Chu Wanning turned his face a fraction to glance at Tianyin Pavilion's forces. "I already am," he said.
Gritting his teeth, he turned back and hefted Mo Ran's bleeding, barely conscious form over his shoulder. "Don't be afraid," he rasped. "It's over. We're leaving; we're going home… I'll bring you home."
Yet when he looked around, the road before him was paved with the corpses of Tianyin Pavilion's cultivators. Behind their broken bodies stood another rank of scarlet-eyed soldiers, ready to put their lives on the line.
And where was home? They had no place to go. Nowhere but hell would be willing to take them in.
Chu Wanning had no idea how many he'd killed by the time he won himself free of the fray. He was shaking from head to toe as he shot out of Tianyin Pavilion, bringing Mo Ran to the highest reaches of the sky on his sword. Never before had he taken so many innocent lives. He was covered in Mo Ran's blood, his own blood, and the blood of Tianyin Pavilion's martyrs most of all. He'd been tarnished, soaked through in filth; he could never wash himself clean.
Mists drifted before his eyes, the world a boundless blur.
Where should they go? Mount Jiao was not an option, Dragonblood Mountain was no longer safe… Sisheng Peak… How could he bear to involve Sisheng Peak any further?
"Shizun…"
A hoarse whimper by his ear. Chu Wanning jerked his head down to look at Mo Ran's paper-white face.
"You…should take me back."
"What the hell are you saying?!"
Mo Ran shook his head. "You came for me. You didn't abandon me." With great effort, he bent his mouth in a smile despite the faltering light in his eyes. "That's more than enough. I have a home—it's enough. Take me back, I mean it… You still have a way out…" His voice grew fainter, his lashes drooping, but still he gripped Chu Wanning's sleeve and mumbled, "You still have a way out…"
"I don't." Chu Wanning's heart felt like it was being sliced in two. Grabbing Mo Ran's ice-cold hand, he shifted his weight so he could wrap his arms all the way around Mo Ran. "I don't have a way out. I'm not going anywhere."
Mo Ran fell silent.
"I'll stay with you."
Had Chu Wanning voiced such words in the past, Mo Ran would've lost his mind with joy. But now he only felt lost and bewildered. He lifted a hand, but that was all he had the strength to do.
His robes were sodden with blood. Mo Ran lost consciousness at last, sagging in Chu Wanning's arms.
Chu Wanning clutched at that body that was weakening by the minute and couldn't stand to keep going. He didn't know whether or not more forces were tailing them, or how long it might take them to catch up. He brought Huaisha down and landed on a nearby hill. His hands were trembling violently; he fumbled several times before managing to pull open Mo Ran's collar.
A gaping, bloody hole had been opened over his heart.
A small explosion seemed to go off in Chu Wanning's head. He didn't have the courage to look at Mo Ran's face again. He suddenly remembered that Mo Ran had guarded his corpse for two full years in the past lifetime. How must he have felt through each of the long days and nights over those two endless years?
"Don't go, Mo Ran…" Chu Wanning folded his hands together and pressed his palms over the wound, funneling a steady stream of spiritual energy into Mo Ran's body. He crouched protectively over him, like two flayed beasts both soaked in gore, clinging to their last breaths. As their judgment day drew nigh, their blood and flesh intermingled.
"You can't go—you didn't do anything wrong. You never did anything wrong."
Mo Ran, Mo Ran—Mo, the darkness of ink; Ran, the brightness of fire. He'd striven toward the light all his life, yet in the end, he couldn't escape the clutches of the night.
Chu Wanning finally mustered the nerve to look up at Mo Ran's face, but that one glance was nearly enough to destroy him. Mo Ran's complexion lacked any hint of vitality, shockingly white and streaked with blood. Cuts and scrapes crisscrossed his brow from the stones onlookers had thrown at him.
The sight broke him. Kneeling in front of Mo Ran, he buried his head in his arms and wept inconsolably. Agony bored through his chest.
Was this the same youth who'd come to him beneath the Heaven-Piercing Tower, who'd flashed him that bright and lively smile and said, Xianjun, Xianjun, pay attention to me?
Why… Why was there so much blood—why was he so lifeless; where had that smile gone? He could hardly recognize him like this.
What wrong had Mo Weiyu committed for him to bear such sorrow and suffering throughout his life? Was it because he had nothing and no one to rely on that even fate had decided to torment him? He'd lived always on the fringes, trying so hard to present the world with a smile, only for everyone to declare his face abhorrent.
Seeing him now, who would guess that such a lowly heap of dirt had once flourished at the height of spring?
"Chu Wanning."
He froze as a familiar, cold voice rang out from nearby.
"Who could've guessed you'd willingly ruin your reputation to save him?"
Chu Wanning's head jerked up. A man's tall, well-built silhouette stalked toward them with unhurried steps, his back to the sun.
Emperor Taxian-jun paused amidst the trees and narrowed his eyes. "I always thought your own purity was the most important thing in the world to you," he drawled. "I never expected you'd tarnish yourself for him."
He drew closer, one step at a time, the dragon motifs stitched into his black robe glinting in the sun. His red shoes, undulating with dragon coils embroidered in black and gold, came to a stop in front of Chu Wanning and Mo Ran.
Chu Wanning shot to his feet, gold gathering in his palm as he instinctively summoned Tianwen. He stood between Mo Ran's past and present lives. Taxian-jun's eyes roved first along the sparking willow vine, then fixed impassively upon Chu Wanning's face. He looked as if he'd been fished out of a pool of blood. Not a single inch of his robes remained white. The ends of his phoenix eyes were wet as he met Taxian-jun's gaze with a complicated expression.
Taxian-jun snorted. "He's that important to you?"
When Chu Wanning made no reply, Taxian-jun said, tone laced with threat, "Move aside."
Chu Wanning didn't budge. His mind was a jumble, but he knew this at least: that the Mo Ran who stood before him now was naught but a means to an end, an empty shell.
The empty shell continued to smile, lips hooking cruelly. "What—you think you can stop this venerable one just by standing there?"
"I'm taking him away."
"To where?"
A simple question, but one that slipped between Chu Wanning's ribs like a knife prying open a clam. Emperor Taxian-jun's eyes gleamed with mockery. "Chu Wanning, be honest with yourself. This venerable one would shelter you, but aside from that, where else in this vast mortal realm could you possibly hide? Taking him away? Don't be ridiculous."
He stepped forward. Fast as lightning, he gripped Chu Wanning's chin and pressed close. "The last piece of spiritual core in his chest belongs to this venerable one. You, too, belong to this venerable one. Don't forget your place."
Golden light flared. Taxian-jun leapt back, his cheek stinging. He reached up and found that Tianwen had left an angry gash under his temple. Black blood dripped along his jawline as he looked up darkly. It was hard to say if his expression held more of fury or delight. He wrinkled his nose, features twisting. "Good. Wonderful."
He chuckled humorlessly and swept back his sleeves, black robes rippling like storm clouds. "To think this venerable one would face Tianwen again after so many years." Taxian-jun lifted slender fingers to wipe the blood from his cheek and fixed shadowy eyes on Chu Wanning. "This venerable one has missed it so."
Behind Chu Wanning, Mo Ran was clinging to life by a thread. A single wasted moment could spell his doom. Chu Wanning's heart was in turmoil, but he couldn't waste any more words with Taxian-jun. "Tianwen—Ten Thousand Coffins!"
Taxian-jun swore under his breath. His toes had barely left the ground when thousands of craters opened in the earth. Thick willow vines burst out and shot straight for him. At the same time, softer, more slender vines curled around Mo-zongshi's unconscious form, shielding him deep within their branches.
Taxian-jun glared at Chu Wanning through Tianwen's spell formation and let out a furious bark of a laugh. "Are we so different to you?"
"Tianwen, Wind."
His question was answered by an even more ferocious attack. Taxian-jun found himself speechless as the violent gale sliced toward him like a knife. How could he not feel resentment—as he glared at that wretched man on the ground, Taxian-jun's heart twinged with a pain he hadn't known in years.
This small moment of distraction was all it took for the tempest to cleave into his belly. He gasped in pain. Lowering his gaze, he saw dark blood welling from an ugly wound in his stomach.
He'd hurt him again…
That's right—in the past and present lifetime alike, he had always amounted to nothing in Chu Wanning's eyes. Taxian-jun swallowed around the lump in his throat. His shallow smile warped into a leer as he reached up and roared, "Bugui, come!"
Our past lies on a vermilion bridge in emerald fields. Another year gone, yet still I wait, for you do not return. But now he'd returned—Chu Wanning had returned, yet he still insisted on drawing his blade against him. He still insisted on finding every stupid reason to seek his blood, to seek his life!
Taxian-jun seethed with rage. Bugui and Tianwen clashed, the two holy weapons screaming where they made contact.
Two lifetimes.
Two lifetimes had passed since these weapons met in their final duel. The inscription on Bugui's hilt had long faded. Like the past once shared by Taxian-jun and the Beidou Immortal, it had been lost to the sands of time.
Beams of gold and jade-green light crashed against each other, consumed by hatred yet inseparably entwined. Amidst the flash of their weapons, Taxian-jun stared at the face before him: covered in blood, expression inscrutable.
Alive.
His heart was seized by an overbearing fury, a burning anguish. Gritting his teeth, he said sullenly, "We're the same person…so why are you fighting me for his sake?"
Chu Wanning didn't know what to say. What reply would be of any use against this revenant? But—perhaps the sunlight was so dazzling it was making him see things—for a moment, Taxian-jun's eyes seemed heavy with sorrow. They seemed, almost, to glimmer with tears.
"It hurts you to see him like this. But what about this venerable one?" Taxian-jun said hoarsely. He tried to summon his forbidding mask, but his despair was too strong to hide. He wished he could take a torch to that disappointment and burn it to ash, but when the flames sprang up, the smoke only turned his eyes red. "Chu Wanning. Have you any idea how this venerable one felt when I came back to life and discovered your body was gone from the Red Lotus Pavilion?"
Chu Wanning froze.
After blurting this question, Taxian-jun closed his eyes, expression strained. Anger, humiliation, pain, and obsession had pushed him to the brink of sanity. He concentrated nearly all of his spiritual power into Bugui—
With a massive boom, the earth rolled and split apart. The surrounding vegetation was obliterated in the blast—even the willow vines were not immune to Bugui's might. They crumbled to dust, one after another.
"It's been almost ten years!"
In the flying dust and ash, only Taxian-jun's manic eyes were clear. His vision was a wash of scarlet. "Ten years, Chu Wanning! He was reborn, leaving this venerable one to be woken at Sisheng Peak, at Wushan Palace. In these ten years, this venerable one has heard tell of all the good things in your lives, all his accomplishments—but what about me? What about me?!"
He slashed his blade downward. Sand and gravel exploded as a deep fissure opened in the earth.
"I've been alone since the beginning! He got to start over again, while I had nothing—not even a handful of ashes!"
He swung Bugui again. Chu Wanning recalled Tianwen, and Huaisha flashed into his hand to block the blow. But this golden killing blade only stoked Taxian-jun's fury. He looked like a vengeful ghost escaped from hell, burning up with resentment. Chu Wanning flinched at the look in his eyes. This man was just a corpse. How could his emotions be so intense?
"What did I do to deserve this?!"
The forest burst into flame, leaves dyed orange and edged in char, sparks flying. Yet suddenly Taxian-jun doused his spiritual energy. In a whirl of black robes, he sprang backward and landed within the ruined foliage.
Chu Wanning watched in confusion. He saw Taxian-jun close his eyes, those dense black lashes pressed to that unnaturally pale face. "What did I do to deserve this," mumbled Taxian-jun again.
The ground trembled faintly. Chu Wanning blanched, whipping around. "Mo Ran!"
As he dashed over to shield Mo Ran, he heard Taxian-jun utter four chilling words: "Jiangui. Ten Thousand Coffins."
A colossal eruption rocked the earth. All the blood in Chu Wanning's body ran cold. The willow vine…the willow vine… Taxian-jun and Mo Weiyu were the same person, after all. Just as Mo Weiyu could summon Bugui, so too could Taxian-jun summon Jiangui.
Massive vines burst from the soil, coiling around Chu Wanning's limbs and torso. Tianwen's own offshoots, already weakened by fire, were cut apart by yet more vines, which tugged Mo Ran out of his protective shelter.
"Stop!" Chu Wanning cried, frantic.
Ignoring him, Taxian-jun soared gracefully over to Mo Ran and looked coolly down at that face, identical to his own. His gaze drifted downward to fix upon Mo Ran's mangled chest.
"Tianwen—!" Chu Wanning roared.
But Tianwen and Jiangui were holy weapons of the same type. Without looking up, Taxian-jun lifted a hand to send Jiangui's fiery red tendrils to tangle with the recovered golden vine. Neither would easily gain the upper hand.
Chu Wanning's lips were ashen, and tendons protruded on his hands. He strained with all his might against Jiangui's confines. Taxian-jun shot him a glance, a complicated look in his eyes. His thin lips parted around a low sigh. "Chu Wanning. You really care so much for him."
He raised a hand and lunged for Mo Ran's chest. If only he could get that last scrap of spiritual core, he could return to an approximation of life. He was the real Emperor Taxian-jun, the real Mo Weiyu. He was the man who deserved to have all his heart's desires fulfilled after enduring a decade of loneliness.
He was the one who deserved to live.
But as his hand streaked toward Mo Ran's wound, a beam of gold light whizzed past and pierced clean through Taxian-jun's palm. Black blood dribbled out.
Taxian-jun stared at Tianwen's tendril, still boring through his hand, his face completely blank. What did he feel? Pain? Disappointment? Anger? He'd experienced such emotions so often, and with such intensity, that he had perhaps already grown numb to them.
At last, he slowly turned his head. He stared calmly at the man bound within Jiangui's coils, whose breath came in harsh pants, whose eyes were obstinate and unyielding. Taxian-jun barely seemed to register the blood running down his hand. He watched Chu Wanning with that distant, inscrutable gaze, then laughed. "Chu Wanning."
Silence.
"Why don't you just cut out my heart?"
Chu Wanning was shaking. It was as though Jiangui had sprouted thousands of sharp thorns that were pricking every inch of his body. His swordlike brows drew together, phoenix eyes filled with pain beneath dark lashes.
Without looking away, Taxian-jun channeled spiritual energy into his palm and severed that willow vine. He was no longer so preoccupied with carving Mo Ran's beating heart out of his chest. He walked toward Chu Wanning, each step deliberate. When he was close enough, he stroked Chu Wanning's pale face with his bleeding hand.
"I asked you a question," he said, his nonchalant tone belying his spiteful words: "If you're so ruthless, why don't you just cut out my heart?"
Chu Wanning glared at him in silence.
"In your eyes, what does this venerable one amount to?" Taxian-
jun sighed softly and closed his eyes. Naturally, Chu Wanning didn't answer him. Before Taxian-jun could continue, his eye caught the flickering red glow of a willow shoot curled around Chu Wanning. He froze, then muttered in realization, "Interrogation?"
Jiangui and Tianwen were the same. If Tianwen had the ability of interrogation, then Jiangui should be no different.
Taxian-jun's purple-black eyes gleamed at the prospect of using Jiangui to pry the truth from Chu Wanning's stubborn mouth. His lips parted eagerly, only to press together once more, as though he hadn't decided what to ask. Only after a long beat did he begin haltingly, "Ahem… If… This venerable one wants to know, if—"
The question was mortifying, but given this heaven-sent opportunity, he'd regret it forever if he didn't ask it. He hesitated for a long time before his features settled into a look of determination. Avoiding Chu Wanning's eyes, he said slowly, "If, in the past life… If this venerable one had died earlier—died before you."
Jiangui's radiance grew, as if the vine was readying itself to squeeze the truth from the man within its coils.
Taxian-jun looked up. "Would you…still remember this venerable one?"
So strong was his yearning for the answer that Chu Wanning felt an agony like countless steel needles stabbing into his flesh, each trying to tease out his true feelings. He trembled as a chill raked over his limbs, and his complexion turned wan.
Taxian-jun stared at him, unblinking, thin lips opening, his own thoughts weighing heavily on his heart. "Would you?"
"I…" The pain drilled into Chu Wanning's marrow, about to shred through his organs. Every nerve in his body screaming, Chu Wanning looked up hazily at Taxian-jun. Through his watering eyes, that handsome face was so familiar, tinged with ardent longing, perhaps even deep sentiment. It so resembled the face from that moonlit night so long ago now, on that sword above the waves of Flying Flower Isle, when Mo Ran had taken his hand and said, I like you. And you?
Tears brimmed in Chu Wanning's eyes. Consciousness flickering, he rasped, "That wouldn't happen…"
Perhaps his voice was too quiet, or perhaps it was for another reason entirely that Taxian-jun leaned closer, his own face practically touching Chu Wanning's sweat-drenched, pallid features.
"What wouldn't happen?"
"That wouldn't happen…" Chu Wanning lowered his lashes, warm wetness gathering beneath them. "I'd never…let you die before me…"
Taxian-jun froze.
"I'm sorry." Chu Wanning's voice was as hoarse and broken as a shattered xun. "I'm the one who didn't protect you properly."
Taxian-jun gaped at him as his already bloodless face paled further. He seemed to hear thunder rolling in his ears. A memory sprang unbidden to his mind: Beside Heavenly Lake, that man who'd crumpled in his arms had lifted his blood-streaked hand and gently prodded at his forehead.
That man had said, It was I who wronged you. I won't blame you, in life or in death.
A violent ache tore through his heart, like something had ruptured within his chest. "Wanning…" He stood rooted to the spot, like a statue.
Taxian-jun reached out again, this time not out of malice. His hand seemed to move freely of the rest of him, drawn to that face so similar to the one he remembered from the past life.
Ice-cold, dyed red with blood.
In the distance, a shrill whistle sounded.
Taxian-jun's fingers froze a hairsbreadth from Chu Wanning's cheek. Those eyes that had held far too many emotions for a corpse went blank, as if his awareness had vanished with the call of the whistle. Taxian-jun let his arm fall. Slowly, he stepped backward, dismissing his weapons with a wave of his hand. The past life's Bugui and the present life's Jiangui both vanished.
Suddenly freed, Chu Wanning stumbled and fell onto the dirt. When he raised his head, he saw a man clad in robes of pure white standing at the edge of the forest, surrounded by falling bamboo leaves. His face was masked, and he held a jade flute in one hand. In the other was a blind man's cane. His figure seemed pure as a lotus as he waited for Taxian-jun to trudge over to him.
"You're…" Chu Wanning started.
"Take Mo-zongshi away." The man sighed quietly, his voice obviously distorted by a voice-changing spell. "I can't hold him for long—he'll recover his awareness at any moment."
When Chu Wanning remained frozen, the man urged, "Go. Tianyin Pavilion and Hua Binan will be here soon. If they catch you, you won't be able to change a thing."
Gritting his teeth, Chu Wanning climbed to his feet and hoisted Mo Ran over his shoulder. He drew out the Rising Dragon Talisman and ordered the great beast to take them away.
Just as the dragon raised its head to launch into the sky, Chu Wanning turned, taking one last glance at the man in the depths of the bamboo forest. To his surprise, he saw that the stranger was making his way forward by touch, his cane tapping against the ground. The sight tugged vaguely on a thread of memory, but he couldn't make the connection. "Thank you very much."
The man shook his head. "Go quickly."
The paper dragon, knowing Chu Wanning's personality too well, spoke up on his behalf. "Young man, you're very kind. My master would like to know your name—if you meet again in the future, he can thank you properly."
The man was silent a moment. "Me?" he said softly. Amidst the soft rustling of the forest, his voice sounded stark and somber. "I'm just a man who's finally free."
The paper dragon was unsatisfied, but Chu Wanning sensed this stranger wouldn't reveal his identity. He bowed to the man, then patted the dragon's neck. "Let's go."
The paper dragon obediently said no more. It leapt skyward, soaring into the clouds and vanishing without a trace.
As the wind gusted through the bamboo, that masked, white-
clad man stood calmly in place for several quiet minutes. He waited for the gale to die down, for his surroundings to become tranquil once more. Only then did he lift his face toward the heavens he would never again see, toward that figure he would never again look upon, and say quietly, "The disciple Shi Mei wishes Shizun well."
Sunbeams scattered over his neat and clean robes.
"Shizun, the jianghu's paths run far. May they grant you safe passage."