Chapter 97

Yan Zhengming walked out of the bedroom, not a bit of tiredness to be seen on his face. He raised one hand and pressed it down upon Cheng Qian’s stiff shoulder. “How did he die? I didn’t sense anything at all. How could a superpower like Shang Wan’nian die without any commotion?”

As the rightful successor of the Sect Leader Seal, he could sense even a bit of stirring grass on the Mountain, his spiritual consciousness able to sweep over Yao Valley in the back range. He was much more potent at it than Zhenren Muchun had been, half-dead as he possessed the body of a weasel.

“I don’t know.” Li Yun pinched the bridge of his nose. “There’s a White Tiger Estate kid that hasn’t yet entered the Dao. In the middle of the night, he saw that the light was on in in the other’s room, and that the shadow cast on the window was a little weird. Once he stepped forward to question him, he discovered that he was already deceased. C’mon, follow me and we’ll take a look.”

Various possible conspiracies rose and fall in Cheng Qian’s head as he got up with heavy worries.

As soon as he did, the hand that had caught Hear the Universe suddenly seemed to be burning up, though there were no abnormalities on the surface of its smooth skin. It shook violently, soon after which that scorching sensation rapidly spread from his hand to his arm, then engulfed his entire body.

He went off-balance for a spell. Shuang Ren, which had been hanging from his waist, fell off of him without warning, vibrating as it gave off a buzzing drone.

Yan Zhengming and Li Yun had been conversing, but once they turned their heads, they noticed that Cheng Qian wasn’t making a peep — and then, after swaying a few times, he knelt right on the ground, complexion as hard-to-look-at as a dead man’s. Yan Zhengming’s soul was frightened right out of him.

Cheng Qian instinctively gripped Shuang Ren’s sheath, its formerly ice-cold sword body seeming to slowly heat up. Everything in his surroundings was shifting away from him. He heard a certain sound that was like the tones of yellow bells from ancient times, the clamor heavy and overpowering, churning up his inner sanctum. His primordial spirit, which he had not yet had time to fully fix, could not withstand such heavy damage, and seemed like it was going to split open, suffering a bout of being cut to pieces for no real reason.

At exactly that moment, external force suddenly rushed into him, which instantly disconnected those layers of clamor, and suppressed his rampaging true essence.

Cheng Qian swallowed down the irony taste into his chest. He focused his spirit into his inner sanctum, only to see that a powerful, yet not forceful spiritual consciousness had been born into a false image — it was the purportedly-dead Shang Wan’nian.

The other looked at Cheng Qian’s primordial spirit with furrowed brows. “What’s wrong with you? Why is this damaged?”

Cheng Qian couldn’t saying anything for a bit.

Sighing as he looked at him, Shang Wan’nian’s consciousness spread out. His entire likeness turned into a cluster of infinite stars in the same spot, and he gradually helped him comb out his disordered true essence. “Your primordial spirit is damaged, so you can’t withstand Hear the Universe’s inheritance… alas, I can only lock it away inside your inner sanctum and make it wait for you later.”

…Why was he being forced to buy this thing?

“Hear the Universe has been lost for a long time,” Shang Wan’nian continued. “After I accepted its inheritance, I searched for it for a lifetime, only to run into it right before my death. Since this was fate, I had wanted to pass it on to you without hassle, but the timing was off… by Heaven’s will, I must have terrible luck.”

Right as the terribly-unlucky said that, Cheng Qian sensed something flowing from his arm and through all his meridians, ultimately sinking into his inner sanctum between his brows. He saw that the ear-like insignia representing Hear the Universe had been branded into the middle of his inner sanctum at some unknown point in time; it brightened searingly for a short time, then gradually dimmed down.

Shang Wan’nian’s spiritual consciousness appeared in front of Cheng Qian once again. He stared at Hear the Universe with a complicated expression, shaking his head and sighing. “Even though the inheritance isn’t visible, being able to see its surface will allow me to die without regrets.”

“You’re really…”

“Mn, my physical form has already died of natural causes. I expected that I was reaching the end of my life, just not this soon. Tch, this is just adding to your sect’s headache.”

“What is actually going on?”

Shang Wan’nian turned around, stared at him quietly for a short time, then opened his mouth, yet no sound came out. He sneered in self-mockery.

“It isn’t that I don’t want to tell you, my little friend. When you fully repair your primordial spirit, the accept the inheritance I have sealed here, you will understand. There is a limitation to the inheritance where no one can speak of Hear the Universe’s secrets.” He paused, smiling bitterly. “Including dead people.”

Cheng Qian could make out no resentment or unwillingness on him. He only appeared to be calm, which made him unable to help but raise a question — everyone was pursuing the attainment of the Dao and ascension to the heavens, so why did this man look to be completely unconcerned?

The other stood before him with a small sense of being apart from the world. “I know all of you hate the Celestial Divination Bureau. They’re despicable, high-and-mighty, and have killed many. Even falling to this extent can’t wipe away their crimes. Yet, for so many years, the fact that cultivators and mortals could live in peace this whole time was in no small part because of those despicable villains. Now that the Bureau and the Nightmare Travelers are defeated, both the demonic and righteous paths of the Central Plains are groups with no leaders, and the catastrophe of ‘millions of unjustly-dead ghosts’ has begun. This is why I must safeguard Han Yuan’s life.” Glancing at Cheng Qian, he then added, “I’m not actually trying to buy off a favor off of your sect.”

Troubled ghosts were created in troubled ages. The Nine Sages were dead, leaving only Han Yuan alive, and Nanjiang’s demons were by no means a lump of scattered sand… but he might truly never be able to return to Fuyao Mountain.

“Still, the timing of the Soul-Devouring Lamp reappearing is too coincidental,” the other continued. “I didn’t expect my time to be up, so I don’t have the time to investigate fully. I’ll just tell you a feeling I have that might not necessarily be correct — someone knows that Tong Ru made a wish on a ghostly stone, and has been continuously fanning the flames in secret. Apart from the Bureau, the instigator of this foulness, only the four of us should have known about it…”

Cheng Qian’s gaze flashed.

“No, it isn’t Bian Xu. If he really had such a methodical mind, he certainly wouldn’t have drifted through life into looking like such a ghost now.”

Cheng Qian nodded — in an organization as big as the Bureau, who knew who had accidentally leaked that info?

“That was the first thing.” Shang Wan’nian reached out at took back his own consciousness that was wandering about in Cheng Qian’s inner sanctum. “There is another thing I want to tell you. Did you know that you’ve been tampered with?”

“What?” Cheng Qian’s pupils slightly shrank.

“It isn’t on your spirit-jade body, but your soul. Forgive me for being ill-versed in this path, but I can’t see what it’s for. It hasn’t broken out yet? Even though I can’t say that your cultivation base is unmatched in the world, it’s enough to rise to the apex. I’m a bit unsure… who has the remarkable power to place a curse upon you without a trace?”

Fingers trembling, Cheng Qian’s chest seemed to get stuffed with a chunk of ice.

Over all these years, who had mastered this path? Who had had the opportunity to tamper with his soul?

Shang Wan’nian took a measure of his expression. “It seems that you already have an idea.”

Cheng Qian nodded with difficulty, then calmly asked, “Is there any way to resolve it, Estate Lord?”

The other sighed. “I can’t tell what the curse it, so I’m afraid that while I would love to help, I can’t… but, you don’t need to worry too much. If it does genuinely flare up one day, Hear the Universe can resist it for you from where I sealed it.”

“Thank you.”

Shang Wan’nian waved him off. “In the unseen workings of the world, this is fixed destiny. Hear the Universe was meant to land into your hands, there’s no need to thank me — I’ll be off to reincarnate.”

With that, the final string of his spiritual consciousness that had been left behind in the world vanished. It seemed like he had shed some sort of burden, disappearing without regrets.

When Cheng Qian came to, he was in the Residence of Peace, and happened to hear an unfamiliar once. “…This Senior has had backlash on account of his damaged primordial spirit. I believe that it might stem from frequent use of true essence as of late.”

“…”

His mood had been heavy enough as it was. Where had this braying mule come from?

He opened his eyes to see a cultivator wearing the uniform of White Tiger Estate that was chattering on as he pressed on his pulse. Upon raising his head to see Cheng Qian’s cold gaze, he immediately let go out of fright. “Y-you’re awake, Senior?”

The other expressionless tyrannized him with his eyes.

Yan Zhengming reached over and took the little cultivator aside, blocking Cheng Qian’s murderous line of sight for him. From his back, it could be seen that he was angry.

“Don’t worry about him.” Yan Zhengming clenched his rear molars. “Tell me; what comes after this backlash?”

“N-n-n-nothing comes after,” he white-clothed cultivator stammered. “Senior Cheng’s p-primordial spirit is pure and profound. All he needs to do is rest, a-and it won’t take much time for him to fix it. Don’t w-worry, Sect Leader.”

Yan Zhengming’s expression relaxed slightly — though it still wasn’t anything nise to look at — and then he ordered to guest to be ousted. “Okay. Many thanks, take care, forgive me for not seeing you out.”

Li Yun, who was standing watch at the door, immediately smiled with sincerity. “Over, here, please, come with me… it’s alright, don’t be scared. Our Sect Leader doesn’t bite.”

The non-biting Sect Leader Yan watched them watched the two depart with an overcast look, after which he slowly turned his head, preparing to settle this post-worry debt.

Cheng Qian wasn’t in the mood to pet him along his fur, though. He suddenly leaned back to stare emptily at the bed canopy overhead.

This reaction was not even a little like what Yan Zhengming had imagined would be a guilty conscience. Taken aback, he put his prepared criticism away for the time being, then somewhat powerlessly walked over to his bedside. “What’s wrong, now?”

Cheng Qian said nothing, reaching out to pat right beside him in a motion for him to sit down. After that, he closed his eyes, grabbed Yan Zhengming’s hand, and placed it on his own chest.

He was aloof in personality, seldom able to team up with anyone. Tang Zhen was only outsider closest to him.

Yan Zhengming’s hand was much warmer, more alive, and more like a living person’s than his own.

He took in a deep breath. “Shang Wan’nian reached the end of his natural life, and his primordial spirit went off to be reborn. As I see it, he left in happiness. No one brought harm to him.”

That much had already been reported, so Yan Zhengming knew of it. “How do you know that?” he asked, surprised.

“I saw him. He wanted to give an inheritance to me, but my primordial spirit happened to be damaged, so I can’t accept it for a minute… it’s not any sort of bullshit backlash that that guy just said. Aside from idiots who use forbidden techniques to forcefully raise their cultivation base, who would get backlashed by their own spirit?”

“…” Yan Zhengming pulled his hand away. “You trying to rebel?”

“Don’t make noise,” Cheng Qian whispered. “My heart hurts, senior.”

Yan Zhengming was dumbfounded at that. He had seen a Cheng Qian covered in wounds from fights, seen him, a Cheng Qian that had choked someone into a stumble from one sentence, and a Cheng Qian that had barely managed to muster up the patience to tolerate him, but he had never before seen a Cheng Qian that had furrowed his brows and said that his heart hurt.

In his memories, Cheng Qian seemed to have a heart of stone. Nothing in the world could sway him, nor make him bow his head.

This one bit of incidentally-divulged frailness caused Yan Zhengming to suddenly feel bizarrely excited. He leaned over and tucked a few strands of hair that were beside Cheng Qian’s face away. The more he looked at him, the less he knew how to show affection to him, so he couldn’t resist bending further down to plant a kiss between his slightly knit brows. “What’s wrong?”

Cheng Qian said nothing, looking at the other’s face that was so close, and thought with exhaustion, Will he betray me one day, too?

Yan Zhengming’s heart itched as he was watched by him, yet, out of concern about his health, he dared not touch him, forced to settle himself. “What are you looking at?”

Cheng Qian scrutinized him for a short time, then suddenly smiled breezily. What am I even thinking about? Whatever he wants, I’ll give it to him. If he wants my life, I’ll stake my life for him… there’s no betrayal to be had.

Yan Zhengming did not have penetrating vision, and could not see that collection of love pledges in the other’s heart. He wet his lips, brazenly salivating while his speech kept with its loathsome, shameless aloofness. “Since your heart hurts, and so does your body, get a good rest today. I… ahem, I can push anything else to the side and just keep you company.”

“…”

This Sect Leader was really just a one-of-a-kind species, sometimes.

Cheng Qian cleaned out his heart-filling, tender sentiments. Ugh. He’s so annoying.

He raised his hand and pushed Yan Zhengming’s face away. “No need to trouble yourself more. I have something I need to go out and do. Go to bed by yourself.”

“Wait, you just got up…”

Cheng Qian’s figure zipped away. He was no longer in the room.

“…”

He couldn’t sort out the Residence of Peace’s owner, so he resolved to sort out its bamboo forest.

Cheng Qian arrived at the guest room where Tang Zhen was staying, only to find that the one in question had left at some unknown point in time. A small box was left behind with a note tucked under its corner: “There is no good in me staying further, so I will take my leave for the time being. What is in the box is a Soul-Leading String. I never had the chance to give it to you all, but I’m afraid that it likely has no use now.”

The String could draw out Han Yuan’s soul for a short period of time, allowing them to have an opportunity to kill that heart demon of many evil deeds without needing to throw the baby out with the bathwater.

The phrasing of the blood oath had specified for the ‘demonic dragon’. If they actually did kill the heart demon, couldn’t the real Han Yuan pile the blame onto it, not be required to travel to Nanjiang, and not have to suffer lashings for five hundred years?

Cheng Qian clenched the note in his fingers, sighing soon afterwards. Had he no doubts in his heart, he might have been ecstatically going off to give this to Yan Zhengming right now.

Now that he did have doubts, why would Tang Zhen have brought the String out now, instead of earlier or later?

He had been so hoping that Han Yuan wouldn’t go to Nanjiang. Had that been out of good intentions, or had he just been wishing to make the waters even muddier?

And… why had he left in such a hurry?

Affected, he abruptly looked up just in time to see Han Yuan’s eye-catching panlong robe flapping up and down atop a low wall outside the room.

“That nosy old guy Shang Wan’nian died,” the other explained indifferently. “They don’t have the time to pay attention to me right now, so I came out for a stroll by myself. What have you got, there?”

Cheng Qian paused, then told the truth.

Hearing that, Han Yuan carelessly sat down upon the wall, smiling with quite some self-mockery. “Just throw that away, it’s useless. Why did those lies come out of our eldest’s mouth? It isn’t that he doesn’t know what a heart demon is… how could there be two souls in one body? This isn’t possession.”

“Oh? He’s become ‘our eldest’? Not ‘Noble Sect Leader’?”

Han Yuan got caught red-handed.

“He just wants to find an escape route for you,” Cheng Qian went on. “If they really do try to kill you, the ‘one body, two souls’ thing could be used as an excuse.”

Propping his arms against the low wall behind him, Han Yuan looked up at the extensive night sky of Fuyao Mountain. A short while later, he said, “There’s no need for that, little senior. I’ve discovered that no one can make excuses for themselves.”

Cheng Qian reclined against the courtyard wall of the guest house, imitating his action of looking upwards. The two of them, one sitting and one standing, were on the same side, the same night sky above their heads. They looked like they hadn’t been this close in a very long time.

“The three of you went to Yao Valley to rescue me. Second brother openly admitted that he had tricked me into going in. Back then, I was thinking that even though he looked like a prettyboy, he was actually a man of honor.” Han Yuan stretched out his legs, splaying out. Were it not for those imposing panlong robes, he would have vaguely resembled a rascally little beggar.

“Later on, I found out that he was just really smart,” he continued, following which his tone took a turn. “Back when I suffered from soul-painting, I killed you by mistake. If we had switched places, little senior, what would you have done?”

Cheng Qian said nothing, nor did he immerse himself in that scenario. Why talk, when it didn’t matter?

“You would have definitely not jumped into the ocean to flee because of soul-painting’s wild energy,” Han Yuan soliloquized. “One you broke free of it, you would have definitely gone back to the sect’s door to admit your crime. Whether your sect siblings would have blamed you or not would have been their final say. You wouldn’t have hidden away.”

The other smiled painfully. “One bag of pine nut candy bought off your high regard of me for these many years?”

Han Yuan started to laugh quiet. As he laughed and laughed, the lines at the corners of his eyes slowly vanished. His face was clearly youthful, yet the look in his eyes showed the wear of life.

“Honestly, I wasn’t afraid of what my siblings would do to do. I knew that they wouldn’t do anything at all, but I was so ashamed that I couldn’t bear it, little senior. Every day, every night, there was too much torment — I could only turn it into hatred and viciousness.”

“You know that we won’t blame you.”

“I acted like I didn’t know that, but I did.”

The more he had known it, the deeper his guilt had grown.

No one was blaming him, but he had just blamed himself more and more.

“I fled for a minute, but I couldn’t flee for a lifetime. I understand that truth now… but it isn’t too late, for me to still be able to see Fuyao Mountain.”

They went silent for a long time.

With that crisp sound, all the betrayal and entanglement, the several confrontations, all shortly scattered into nothingness.

“Alright. Since you’re her senior that’s so casually terrified her, why don’t you go find your junior sister and apologize to her?”

“I’ll do it tomorrow,” Han Yuan said, slightly uneasy. “It’s too late tonight. Finding such a grown-up lady in the middle of a night wouldn’t be great… eh, it’s not like I watched her grow up. I’m really not used to it.”

Cheng Qian was deeply affected in that field. Right as he went to say something, a fire in a distant courtyard appeared to explode like fireworks. The figure of a Red Crane flashed, then landed upon a big tree. In the night scene, Shui Keng shouted out with a slightly pointed voice, “Who are you?!”

His expression turned bad. Touching Shuang Ren lightly against the low wall, he was gone from his original spot the next instant; Han Yuan closely vaulted forwards in chase.

There was an androgynous, pale-faced person in Shui Keng’s courtyard. They were dressed in gaudy clothing that was even weirder than hers.

Han Yuan walked out a sphere of black fog. Crossing his arms across his chest, he looked at the person and frowned. “A yao cultivator?”

When they spotted Han Yuan, they shrank back and retreated a few steps, only for their escape route to be blocked off by someone else.

“Today is neither the first of the month, nor the fifteenth,” Cheng Qian said. “Instead of obediently staying in Yao Valley, you ran over here. Would patience kill you?”

One in front, one behind, the two made it so the yao cultivator had no place to hide. They suddenly let out a shriek of fear, then transformed into a big bird, moving up and down to leap into the cloud cover.

Han Yuan quickly took to the sky, the shadow of a dragon flashing by behind him. Pressuring demonic qi fell into the air and firmly pushed the big bird downwards. He flung out his sleeve, but the eight-trigram symbol from the blood oath flashed on the back of his hand, making him tch. “I’m not allowed to kill,” he said unhappily.

The giant yao collapsed to the ground in human form. Before they could scramble away, a sword was already held against their neck.

The frost on the blade shone blue and white onto their throat.

Cheng Qian, grasping the sword, indifferently pressed them into the ground. “I wouldn’t think to run, if I were you.”

A pained look showed up on the yao’s face. They didn’t appear to be great at speaking human language. Kneeling on the ground, they looked up at Shui Keng in suffering, then spoke in a weird accent. “You’re the Empress…’s…”