THE LIGHT OF THE STORM shone through the open doors of the hall, flashes of lightning cutting through the shadows on Shi Mei's face. Even in that burst of brightness, his eyes were dark and deep, as if not even holy fire could set them alight.
The fiery blaze between Chu Wanning's hands guttered, and his jaw clenched. But he didn't take the bait. Nothing Shi Mei said right now could be trusted.
Yet Shi Mei clutched at that flicker of hesitation like a piece of driftwood amidst whirling waves. "Shizun, you didn't really think Mo Ran was fully dead, did you? You didn't really think…" He gasped. "Taxian-jun was just a hollow shell? Shizun, think about it: What corpse could think so concretely, act so decisively? Who could create a revenant like that? With what technique? Not even the Zhenlong Chess Formation could accomplish it."
Chu Wanning said nothing.
"Don't you know?" Shi Mei stared into Chu Wanning's eyes, slowly unearthing this buried secret. "There's a cognizance soul still in Taxian-jun's body."
A flinch.
Earlier, Chu Wanning's gaze had the hollow quality of a dead man walking—but now Shi Mei saw something shift inside those phoenix eyes. He let out a breath of relief but stayed on guard. "Shizun, you know my spiritual core is weak; I can't work powerful spells. I can't use the Zhenlong Chess Formation, but the medicinal arts have their ways."
He remembered the moment he saw Taxian-jun lying quiet and unmoving in that grave before the Heaven-Piercing Tower, dead by his own hand. At the time, he had no idea where he'd gone wrong. His mind was blank with shock—how could his sharpest weapon, his ultimate soldier, take his own life? The Flower of Eightfold Sorrows should've consumed the last of Mo Ran's conscience ages ago. What could possibly torment him enough to drive him to suicide?
"When the ten great sects of the past life charged Sisheng Peak and saw Mo Ran's body, they wanted to have him drawn and quartered. I was among them; leveraging my reputation as a famous healer, I persuaded them otherwise and preserved the body."
He scanned Chu Wanning's face for any trace of emotion. "I couldn't afford to lose his strength, so I set myself the task of making him into a walking corpse. Even if he wasn't as strong as before, he would do. But you must know—he died longing for a certain person. An intense attachment was anchored deep in his heart, so strong I couldn't scrub it out of his soul no matter what I did."
Shi Mei took a step closer. "I tried everything to banish it, but that soul never faded. The soul that led his barely lucid mind to the Heaven-Piercing Tower," said Shi Mei carefully. "The soul that yearned for you."
He came to a stop in the middle of the hall. He could see Chu Wanning's ashen face, his tightly compressed lips, the protruding tendons of his hands. Nothing could be more reassuring than the sight of his pain and hesitation. Slowly, Shi Mei regained his earlier composure. "That soul wasn't reincarnated. It lingered inside Taxian-jun's corpse; that was why he was so obsessed with you after coming back to life. As for Mo-zongshi… I'm sure you could tell. He wasn't as besotted with you when he was reborn. He fell in love with you again later."
He unveiled one truth after another, his eyes never leaving Chu Wanning's face. "Taxian-jun's dead body contains his stubbornest love for you."
Chu Wanning's fingertips were trembling. Shi Mei licked his lips, slipping forward like a wily snake, his words a sibilant appeal. "Shizun, can't you see? I just need thirty more people. Thirty more, in exchange for Mo Ran's last soul. Won't you say yes?"
Wind howled outside, everything lost in the wild tempest. He awaited Chu Wanning's reply. It was a generous offer, he thought. The man before him looked aloof, but he'd destroyed both his lives for love. Shi Mei was certain he would agree.
Chu Wanning lowered his gaze. Nobody could see his expression. "You say there's still a wisp of soul inside him."
"Mn."
"If thirty people are sacrificed to pave the rest of your road home, you'll spare him?"
"Exactly."
Chu Wanning paused, murmuring to himself, "Then all those things he said when he saw me again were genuine."
Anyone could be convinced as long as one grasped their weakness. Even the Beidou Immortal was no different. Convinced of his success, Shi Mei relaxed. "That's right, it was all genuine. Though he's not like Mo Ran before he was marred, he still has a soul at least. He still has his own mind. Shizun," Shi Mei said sweetly, "listen to me for once. You, me, and him—all three of us will be much better off."
Chu Wanning was still looking at the floor. He sighed. "Shi Mingjing."
"Hm?"
"Do you remember the wish you wrote in your letter when you made your formal request to become my disciple?"
That unexpected question brought Shi Mei up short. After some thought, he answered, "For succor and safe harbor." Saying it aloud gave him an ominous feeling. "But at the time I was thinking of Shizun as family, I wasn't talking about bringing the Butterfly-Boned clan home…"
Chu Wanning asked another question. "Do you know what wish Mo Ran wrote when he became my disciple?"
"…What?"
Chu Wanning finally looked up, his eyes dull with an apathy even more profound than his earlier silence. "He said he wanted a holy weapon like Tianwen. So he could save more lives."
He spoke so coolly and without feeling, recounting his beloved's bygone wish like it was an unimportant detail. Before Shi Mei could react, golden light flooded the hall; a wave of ferocious spiritual energy surged through the air, keeping anyone from coming closer.
Shi Mei snapped back to his senses. "Chu Wanning!" he screamed, a shrill and twisted sound. "Chu Wanning! Have you gone mad?! You're mad!"
He threw himself against that blinding light in despair and fury, trying to get to the white-robed man at its center. At his side, Mu Yanli reached for him, spoke to him, helped him. But it was no use.
"Decimate. Retract!"
"No! Stop! Stop!" As Chu Wanning's voice echoed from within the golden blaze, Shi Mei flew into a greater frenzy, face warping as he howled and raged and cursed with all his might. But the golden light surged and crested. That blinding glow seared itself in his eyes, leaving splotchy afterimages dancing in his vision.
Then the light went out. The wind stilled, leaving only silence. Chu Wanning stood, white-faced, while Shi Mei knelt haggardly on the ground. The tide of spiritual energy slowly ebbed away. After a beat, they both heard a muffled rumble from the direction of the mountains—the sound of Taxian-jun's corpse being crushed to ash.
Shi Mei stared at Chu Wanning. The furious emotions warring on his face had died, leaving behind blankness; his hatred and his wrath cracked open to reveal raw terror. He didn't know what he was afraid of. Was it Chu Wanning, who could bear to kill Mo Ran with his own hands? The pendulous uncertainty of his own future? What was scaring him? The world was already ending.
Slowly, Shi Mei found his voice. "He's dead? He's…dead? Chu Wanning, you killed him? At the Red Lotus Pavilion, he once shielded you and begged me to corrupt him instead of you, but you killed him in cold blood. How could you…"
His terror turned into crazed laughter. He had no reason for mirth, but he threw his head back and cackled anyway. Beside him, Mu Yanli was crying. "A-Nan…enough…" Her words couldn't get through to him. "Enough…"
But Shi Mei only laughed. Golden tears slid from his cheeks to splash on the floor. "He's dead. Taxian-jun's dead…so be it. It's over. Well played, Chu Wanning, you heartless bastard. What an iron will you have."
Chu Wanning stood rooted to the spot, expressionless. He resembled a corpse—he was a corpse.
"Shizun, I underestimated you." Shi Mei's voice shook. "You're even more ruthless than I imagined."
It was as if Chu Wanning had lost the last of his warmth. He'd thought Mo Ran was gone, but now he'd learned one of his souls still existed, right here in his body. A shattered version of Mo Weiyu yet existed.
But he'd reduced those shards to dust.
Yes, he was ruthless. He had nothing to say in his defense. The boy, the youth, the man, his beloved who laughed and cried, in whole or in parts; his dearest; the only one in the world who respected him, indulged him, and didn't fear him; the lover who'd shielded him from catastrophe with his own flesh and blood; the man who'd been devoured by the Flower of Eightfold Sorrows in his place, who'd become the lord of darkness and tyrant over the world in his stead—the dummy who'd given everything to protect him the year he would've turned sixteen—would never come back.
So I can save more earthworms when it rains.
Shizun, I brought you some pear-blossom white.
The disciple present I have for you is really…really really really ugly.
Wanning. I missed you.
Once, he'd smilingly copied out the words—to build countless houses that can shelter all the people in this world who don't have homes, so everyone can smile.
Repay kindness, do not seek revenge.
Yet he'd drifted in a sea of blood for two whole lifetimes.
Do not seek revenge… Do not seek revenge…
"Me? I don't have any particular ambitions. I'm just happy to learn my spells. If anything happens, I'll be able to save a few more people."
In his youth—while he was still lucid—Mo Ran had once earnestly expressed this wish to Chu Wanning. Back then, he'd hoped from the bottom of his heart to help more people. Before he'd been subsumed within Taxian-jun's shadow, he'd stubbornly adored every wondrous living thing—such that he'd willingly give his soul to protect everyone who'd ever treated him with kindness.
"I might be a little dumb, but I'll do my best. Shizun can't blame me if I've tried my best, right?"
The young man in Chu Wanning's memories had chuckled and beamed as he made this appeal, scratching his head. His dimples were so sweet and deep they seemed to brim with pear-blossom white, leaving Chu Wanning with a lifelong intoxication.
He closed his eyes. His hands had finally begun to shake. He felt dizzy—a gentle breeze seemed to brush against his face, kissing his tear-soaked lashes. He thought he could hear Taxian-jun's voice, uncharacteristically soft and gentle. The words echoed in his ears, as if murmured against Chu Wanning's cheek.
My reputation and my dreams, my blood and flesh and beating heart—my soul, my corpse, and the ashes I've become. I'm sorry. That's all I ever had, and I've laid it all at the altar. I've done everything I can. Wanning, take care…
Chu Wanning's head snapped up, phoenix eyes swimming with tears. In the fractured light, he seemed to see Taxian-jun's soul before him, handsome and kind, smiling with joy and grief.
"Mo Ran…"
That soul that should've stayed as pristine as plum blossoms in winter shimmered before him. He bent to take Chu Wanning into his arms, kissing him and slipping his fingers between his lover's—and in Chu Wanning's embrace, he scattered like fallen petals.
"Something's happened!" A Tianyin Pavilion disciple charged into the hall, shouting, "Something's happened!"
Mu Yanli was the only one in the room who could still be considered calm. She turned, eyes glittering with tears, and snapped, "We know what happened to Taxian-jun, don't—"
"What?" The disciple froze, then stamped his feet in baffled frustration. "Not Taxian-jun! All the cultivation realm's sects are coming for us—they're gathered at the base of the mountain right now!"