CHU WANNING'S FACE went white as a sheet.
Watching him, Shi Mei began to laugh—half in grief and half in madness. "That's right," he said. "My father ate my mother alive. She was still alive… I ran over when I heard the screaming. I didn't know what was happening—I knocked on the door and shouted, Mother, what's wrong, what's wrong… Nobody replied. On the other side of the door, she never stopped screaming."
Shi Mei's lips parted softly around his next words. "Then the door did open."
The silence that followed was too like the stillness that'd seized him when those doors had opened—his father, his mouth smeared with blood; his mother, her arm mutilated by his teeth; the boy whose soul seemed to have been split in two.
He'd only been nine.
His father had gone insane. The flesh of a Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast could improve cultivation—since he'd nearly died because of her, this was the least she owed him! And the abomination in front of him—this vile abomination, this cursed whelp that'd brought karmic punishment upon him! His father's eyes were warped with madness. He reached out, hands sticky with gore, for the child that was as still as a statue, chilled to the bone and incapable of saying a word.
Shi Mei still hadn't grasped what was going on. He stared dazedly at the scene before him, bereft of fear or sadness. It was like he'd been drained dry in the blink of an eye, an empty shell stuck standing in the doorway.
The man's hands drew closer, so close a drop of warm blood landed firmly on his cheek like a scarlet tear. Shi Mei looked up blankly at this unfamiliar monster. "Dad…?"
"Run!" Behind him, Hua Gui's shriek tore from her lungs. "A-Nan, run!"
Her arm had been torn apart and her legs were shattered. The woman writhed madly toward her husband like a maggot, desperately trying to inch close enough to grab his legs.
"Run! Run now! Don't turn around! Don't come back!"
A long, shrill scream split the air. His father had whirled around and ground her face beneath his bare foot. Hua Gui's cheek was pressed to the floor, one golden tear slipping from the corner of her eye.
"Run…" she croaked.
With a crack, her windpipe was crushed.
Run, she'd said.
Shi Mei had never stopped running. Every moment of every hour of every day and ceaseless night, he ran with the same frenzy with which he'd escaped Tianyin Pavilion, dragging himself through the wilderness. He ran for his life—he ran until he couldn't bear it anymore—he ran until he was falling apart.
He'd already fallen apart.
No matter where he fled or how long passed, he could still hear his mother's final terrifying shriek. Run! Run now!
He ran from unfamiliar streets into barren wastes and tore through golden fields of wheat; he ran from the darkness of night until the arrow of dawn pierced the skies and dyed the world red. Red as blood, scarlet like the blood that'd poured from her body, that'd dripped from his mouth.
"Ah… Ahhh!"
His mouth shaped a formless wail. His shoes had fallen away a long time ago; the soles of his feet had torn and festered, embedded with sharp rocks and covered in bloody blisters. Golden tears poured down his cheeks. He whimpered like a trapped beast as he pushed through stands of reeds and into thorny brambles, leaving bloody footprints.
He was too afraid to stop. He didn't dare look for a smoother road; he ran with everything he had along the first path he saw. He couldn't stop, because if he stopped, he'd die. He would surely die.
So he never did.
A decade passed in the blink of an eye. He never dared to stop. He'd die. A Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast would die if they didn't go home.
"When Xue-zunzhu found me, I was terrified. The Tianyin Pavilion master was looking everywhere for me. I was too scared to tell the truth, or to cry. Xue-zunzhu asked me where I was from and where my parents were, so I lied," murmured Shi Mei. "He took me back to Sisheng Peak. A few years later, a member of the Butterfly-Boned clan my mother had rescued found me—she'd been disguised as a Tianyin Pavilion disciple. To avoid suspicion, she'd scarred her own face when she entered the sect. She escaped my father's scrutiny and brought me all my mother's things.
"All those years, she'd been collecting demonic records, the names of Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feasts, budding Flowers of Eightfold Sorrows, and all the methods she'd studied of opening a door to the demon realm. It filled a heavy chest."
Chu Wanning slowly closed his eyes. "So you carried out the plan in her stead. Did what she'd always dreamed of doing."
"Yes. I continued cultivating the medicinal arts. I didn't want the sect leader to suspect anything, so I used the name Hua Binan whenever I left the peak. Hua Binan's acclaim grew and grew, until even Jiang Xi had heard of me. He invited me into the sect, and I followed my mother's example. Although Guyueye had once kept Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feasts like livestock, though they'd raised my mother in captivity—to carve out a place for myself in the cultivation world and attain what I needed to go home, I agreed. From then on, I wore two faces. Disciple of Sisheng Peak, healer of Guyueye." Shi Mei paused.
"Later still, the pavilion master died, and Mu-jiejie took his place. She'd been searching all that time for the person who murdered her adoptive mother. At the start, I was too afraid to trust even her. But after some probing, I made up my mind to go to Tianyin Pavilion in search of her. I confessed everything." Shi Mei smiled, though his eyes were still dark with misery. "As Shizun can see…my gamble paid off. She is my staunchest supporter."
Chu Wanning stayed silent.
"Though she's not a Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast, she saw my mother as her own, and she sees the Butterfly-Boned clan as her family. She's been helping me all these years."
Helping Hua Binan, helping Shi Mei, helping her half brother.
Shi Mei tidied up the shards of the teacup and slipped the mirror back into his qiankun pouch.
The rain pounded against the windows like the unquiet spirits of all those Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feasts who'd died in misery. Hua Gui, Shi Mei's mother, was surely among their number. She was howling, Run…run now…don't stop, don't look back…
"There's no other way." Shi Mei kneaded wearily at his brow, his voice a low rasp. "Shizun, we have no other way. There's only the choice between wiping out humanity or our own oblivion and…I can't choose the latter."
Lightning split the sky like a dagger, like the world was ending. The storm worsened, thunder pounding like the hooves of a dark cavalry across the sky. In the blinding flashes of light, sodden leaves ripped from their branches.
Wushan Palace's doors slammed open, and the rain-soaked gale funneled into the room. Pale lightning illuminated their faces as they turned to see Mu Yanli standing in the doorway. She held no umbrella; water dripped into her frantic eyes. "A-Nan, we need only thirty more Zhenlong pawns. We've nearly reached the doorway to the demon realm."
Shi Mei jolted to his feet, fingertips trembling. "Where's Taxian-jun? Thirty pawns are nothing to him. Hurry up and have him finish, and then…"
His voice died as Mu Yanli neared—terror outweighed joy on her face. "Taxian-jun collapsed. His heartbeat is…"
"Is…?" prompted Shi Mei.
"Is in chaos. The flow of his spiritual energy is breaking apart, like he'll never wake up—"
"Impossible!" Shi Mei raged. "That's his own core—I adjusted it over a thousand times; it wouldn't suddenly fall apart. How—"
He froze.
A bolt of lightning ripped through the sky with a colossal boom. In the wake of that deafening crash, he slowly turned. Face deathly pale, he looked at Chu Wanning, bound hand and foot on the bed.
"Was it…" His lips parted. "Was it…you?"
The violence of the storm outside made the interior of the room feel all the quieter, as close and still as a grave. The flickering candlelight danced like the soul flags of the dead. Chu Wanning's eyes fluttered shut. He opened them and looked at Shi Mei.
"Yes," he said. "It was me."
Thunder pealed as if to tear the heavens apart. The earth shuddered, and rain poured down to drown the world.
Shi Mei shuddered. He took a halting step forward. "How…how can you still…"
"Since you've told me a bit about your past," said Chu Wanning, his voice low and very steady, "I'll tell you a bit about mine. In the past life, my spiritual core was broken, leaving me only the power of Jiuge. I didn't know my own origins, and I was powerless against Taxian-jun."
Golden light erupted at his wrists. With a series of clanks, the chains broke and the talismans burned. Chu Wanning rose from the bed, phoenix eyes blazing. "In this life, he's held me captive long enough for me to sink the spells into his heart." Chu Wanning's face was wiped clean of emotion; there was no sorrow, grief, pity, or regret. Nothing but the placid stillness of the dead. "As the spells burrow deeper, they'll disrupt his spiritual energy and stop his heart. This perfect weapon of yours has been destroyed by my hand. I'm sorry, Hua Binan. I cannot let you return home."
Shi Mei had never dreamed of a twist like this. His face was whiter than jade and colder than ice; he stared disbelievingly at Chu Wanning, lips quivering.
"It ends here," said Chu Wanning. Light flared in his palms.
"You're insane!" Staring at that golden light, Shi Mei seemed to go mad, his eyes flashing with bestial wildness. "You're going to kill him?! You're going to kill him… How could you—how can you bear to?!"
No one could read the emotion that flickered in Chu Wanning's dark eyes. "I can," he said.
The golden light brightened, but Chu Wanning's face was beginning to crumple. Though he was but a branch from the Flame Emperor's tree, he had an instinctive grasp of many of the sacred tree's heavenly spells. Tianwen's Ten Thousand Coffins had been born of these hazy impressions. He'd once thought this mere chance, but now he knew the truth. As a piece of the sacred tree itself, he'd been imprinted with the spell markings of the god Shennong. If he reached into his memory, he could recall ancient techniques like the Space-Time Gate of Life and Death—and the one he was using for the first time now: Corpse Destruction.
This spell had originated in that primordial battle between gods and demons. Most of the humans on earth were grievously injured in the battle, and the survivors were awash in a sea of corpses. They soon fell sick, infected and ill. By then, Fuxi was bent on dealing with the rest of the demons, and the injured Nüwa had sunken into the sleep of a primordial deity. Shennong was the only one left who could save them.
The god of medicine sank the Flame Emperor's colossal tree into the East Sea. The sacred tree's crown scraped the heights of the heavens and its roots plumbed the depths of the earth; it possessed countless branches and infinite fruits.
"Sacred Tree, Ten Thousand Coffins."
Every last root of the Flame Emperor's sacred tree tunneled beneath the East Sea and blanketed the cultivation world in an instant. All those roots, thick or thin, rough or delicate, rose from the earth in a shower of dirt.
"Decimate. Retract!"
The roots had enveloped every rotting corpse and crushed them to ash. The sea of corpses disappeared, and the ashes became fertile soil from which splendid flowers bloomed. Having completed its first mission since settling into the world, the tree recalled its roots to the East Sea.
Or so it was recounted in the oldest records of the Flame Emperor's sacred tree.
Light blazed in Chu Wanning's eyes. This was one of Shennong's spells, one he could only use because he was part of the sacred tree. Now that he had called upon it, that person would be reduced to ash, leaving nothing behind.
He was just a corpse, Chu Wanning thought in agony. There was no reason to stay his hand.
"You—Chu Wanning, you…" Shi Mei stared at him, eyes flashing with fury and madness. All his planning across two lifetimes had culminated in this moment—he couldn't allow Chu Wanning to succeed. "Stop right there!"
Chu Wanning looked up calmly. Just as he had that rainy day all those years ago, when he watched the boy Shi Mei standing beneath the study hall's roof at Sisheng Peak.
He had never suspected Shi Mei was secretly a Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast. His earliest impressions of him had come from what other people said. A child had come to Sisheng Peak, one who worked tirelessly but couldn't use any spells due to the weakness of his spiritual core. Because of his lack of innate gifts, none of the elders would take him for their disciple. Even Xuanji, upon testing the boy's spiritual roots, had regretfully declined.
That day, rain had streamed off the black tile of the eaves. A child as fresh as a blossoming lotus looked helplessly up at the sky, clutching a thick stack of books to his chest.
Chu Wanning blinked as he recognized the little outcast. "You?"
He stepped toward him, his oilpaper umbrella held high.
"Ah, Yuheng Elder." Startled, the little thing hastily lowered his head, that pile of books almost brushing his chin. He struggled to keep his balance as he bowed. "Good evening, Elder."
"It's so late. You're still at the study hall?"
"I-I can't help it; there's too much to read. I didn't finish in time."
Chu Wanning glanced down, his eyes landing on the book at the top of the pile: Compendium of Guyueye's Healing Arts.
The boy looked abashed, his cheeks coloring prettily. "I'm a bit slow; all I can do is read about the medicinal arts. Not that I think Guyueye is better…"
Baffled, Chu Wanning frowned. "It's just a book. Don't be so anxious."
The boy's head drooped, shoulders curling in. "This disciple misspoke."
On his small and slender frame, that desperate attempt to make himself inconspicuous plucked at Chu Wanning's heartstrings. He couldn't help but recall what the other elders had said:
"That Shi Mei is certainly well-behaved. Too bad he's not got much of a gift."
"Truth is he's not suited to cultivation. Heh, I don't know what the sect leader was thinking. Why take in someone with no real potential? If it was only out of pity, let him be a cook or a dishwasher at Mengpo Hall; it's not a bad solution."
"But he seems to have an interest in the medicinal arts. Tanlang, you won't consider taking him?"
"No," the Tanlang Elder had replied languidly. "I don't like my disciples too soft."
Chu Wanning held out the umbrella, raindrops plinking from the oiled paper like dropped pearls. The fingers around its handle were fine-boned and slender. "Let's go," said Chu Wanning. "It's late. I'll walk you back."
A little white wildflower trembled on the roof. Shi Mei blinked, then bowed deeply before ducking underneath the umbrella.
They had walked into the distance beneath the gentle rain.
Today that boy's eyes were the crimson of blood, his whole body tensed like a bow about to snap. "Chu Wanning!" he snarled. "Why must you obstruct me?! It's too late! The dead are dead—thirty more won't make a difference! Thirty more paltry lives to save so many of the Butterfly-Boned clan. After thousands of years, we can finally go home. Why now? What gives you the right?!"
His rage matched the storm's, yet he resembled a blinded and declawed dragon. Not a wisp of that old gentleness remained.
"Those dead cultivators won't come back to life even if you destroy Taxian-jun. Even if he's ruined, this realm is unsalvageable, but you… Why…"
"To close the Space-Time Gate before divine punishment arrives," said Chu Wanning evenly. "This world may be unsalvageable, but the other can be saved."
"I only need thirty more lives!"
"Even one more life is one too many." Chu Wanning closed his eyes, the light from his hands reaching its blinding peak. "Tianwen, Ten Thousand Coffins!"
A muffled boom answered his hoarse cry, just as when Shennong cleared the corpses millennia ago. He slammed his hands together.
Far away, in the back mountain, willow vines wound tightly around the unconscious Taxian-jun.
Shi Mei's lips had gone bloodless, his pupils shrinking to dots. "How could you be so cruel? Denying us our last hope of survival. Killing your own disciple. I only… I only wanted thirty lives…"
One world covered in corpses, the other on the cusp of destruction. Who knew what calamities were to come once the demon realm's gates opened? The demon clans had been bloodthirsty and violent since ancient times; only after Gouchen's betrayal and Fuxi's brutal onslaught were they forced out of the mortal realm. It wasn't a matter of thirty more lives—and even if it was, who deserved to die? Who should be sacrificed to pave the way home for the Butterfly-Boned clan?
Golden light gleamed between his palms and shone in Shi Mei's eyes. The bright glow threatened to gouge out his heart; Shi Mei struggled toward him, but a barrier had risen before Chu Wanning. He couldn't get close.
Without Taxian-jun, Shi Mei was like a butcher without his knife, armed only with his mortal hands. Neither he nor Mu Yanli was a match for Chu Wanning. Gripped by despair, Shi Mei's eyes turned so red they seemed to drip blood. What could he do? What should he do?! What should—
There was still one thing he could use. Like a hunter facing down ferocious prey, staggering toward his pack for the final weapon he possessed, he hurled the last of his hopes at the man bent on destroying his life's work. "Very well. Very well. Shizun, you're the ruthless one. Go on then. Go ahead. Do what you will."
Baffled by his sudden change in attitude, Chu Wanning watched warily as Shi Mei flung his head back and burst into laughter, a hand over his face. He looked down and fixed his eyes on Chu Wanning, every word ground to dust between his teeth. "Go ahead, Shizun. Reduce him to nothingness. You and I will both lose—we can both end up a wreck!"
Mu Yanli's eyes stung at the sight of him so crazed. "A-Nan…" she whispered.
But Shi Mei couldn't hear her. With the frantic desperation of a cornered beast, he spat with blood and venom, "Go on, kill him. Kill him."
Shi Mei's lightless eyes peered from between his fingers, pinned on Chu Wanning. "Along with the last cognizance soul inside him," he snarled. "The soul that loves you still!"