“Zizhuo, why did you injure the managing senior brother and leave the mountain without permission!”
Shanhai Palace, Disciplinary Hall.
Daoist Qingming glared angrily, screaming at Pei Zizhuo who was kneeling to one side. “Just because you have high talent, you think you can act without fear? Can the rules of Shanhai Palace no longer control you?!”
Pei Zizhuo was pale-faced, having suffered twelve disciplinary strikes to his back. His blue school uniform was stained purple-red with blood, yet he still gritted his teeth in silence, clenching his fists as he knelt rigidly. “Master, Qin Zongquan’s rebel army has already advanced to Yanyun. The current rulers simply cannot hold the Sixteen Prefectures of Yanyun. I must go back to save people.”
“You!” Daoist Qingming paced back and forth twice, forcibly suppressing his anger. Hearing this, he tried to persuade him, “Dynastic transitions are merely the blink of an eye to cultivators. Besides, you have already entered the Dao; you should no longer interfere in mortal affairs, otherwise it will ruin your karmic opportunities!”
A chill emanated around them. Pei Zizhuo raised his eyes, his phoenix eyes chillingly terrifying. “Didn’t Master personally promise me that after completing my studies, you would let me descend the mountain to save Yanyun from peril?”
Daoist Qingming knew he had broken his word, but being called out to his face caused him to lose some face. He crossed his brows and glared, shouting sternly, “Is a dynastic change anything new? I won’t stop you if you are subduing demons and eliminating devils, but if you use your cultivation arts against mortals, I will definitely tie you up to the Cliff of Self-Reflection and make you face the wall for thirty years!”
Pei Zizhuo turned a deaf ear, his face cold as he spoke in a high voice, “Qin Zongquan attacked Taizhou for a hundred days; people scattered like rotten fish and panicked birds, leaving the population extinct, slaughtering the entire city, and burning counties and towns. When military rations ran short, he actually used humans as reserved provisions, making his soldiers eat salted corpses. Such foul-lunged, rotten-hearted beasts commit sins that even demons view with shame. Why can we not eliminate this great scourge?”
“Foolish! Even if he slaughters every mortal in the world, it has nothing to do with you! A hundred years from now, the netherworld will settle the accounts for these evils of its own accord. That will be his retribution!”
“Then what is the purpose of my cultivation?” Pei Zizhuo clenched his jaw, speaking word by word, “All day long we have subduing demons and eliminating devils on our lips, while those who act like demons hide their heads and tails, yet actual demons are running amok and slaughtering in Yanyun!”
Overcome by emotion, Pei Zizhuo felt a stinging sensation in his eyes and pleaded, “Master, this is a great, benevolent act of saving human lives. How could it ruin my karmic opportunities?”
Daoist Qingming slowly closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. “It’s my fault, it’s all my fault.” He walked over to Pei Zizhuo, placed a hand on the crown of his head, and said, “Zizhuo, you are my disciple. Blame me for breaking my light promise.”
A powerful surge of spiritual energy poured directly into the crown of Pei Zizhuo’s head, instantly sealing his Jindan spiritual meridians. A bone-piercing, marrow-deep agony erupted abruptly. Before he could pass out from the pain, Daoist Qingming said faintly, “Human fortune and calamity are predestined long ago. The same goes for you and me.”
The stars revolved and the cosmos shifted, spring and autumn passing several times. Past events had long become fly ash over the years.
Hearing these words once more, Pei Zizhuo had thought he would smile indifferently and remain completely unfazed. Yet for some reason, the corners of his mouth refused to curve upward, though his back teeth actually bit down hard enough to draw blood.
“Oh, is that so?” Pei Zizhuo narrowed his eyes, sneering. “Cultivators with spiritual roots ascend to immortality overnight, living for ten thousand years. They look at mortals as if eyeing ephemeral mayflies, born in the morning and dead by evening, mere drops in a vast sea. Isn’t all of this predestined by heaven?”
He walked up to Shen Shu, lowering his gaze to look at him with completely devoid warmth. His voice was slightly hoarse, resembling the whispers of an evil ghost. “Therefore, what shouldn’t be managed must never be managed. This Illusory Realm, this Marriage Temple Master, this crowd of people in Baling Commandery, none of them have half a cent’s connection to you. Why bother caring whether they live or die? Ensuring you don’t entangle yourself in karma is the most important thing.”
Shen Shu’s brows knitted tighter and tighter. He nodded unhappily, softly spitting out a single sentence: “You have a point.”
Pei Zizhuo’s expression instantly turned gloomy, a mass of malevolent energy seemingly clogging his chest, right on the verge of erupting.
“How about you go back and wait for me first? I want to go and meet this Illusory Realm.”
“You. What did you say?” Pei Zizhuo used his mouth as a brake, swallowing back a torrent of curses.
Shen Shu raised his face, showing not a shred of blame, and urged him to set his mind at ease. “I am unattached and alone, unafraid of karmic retribution. Even if there is retribution, it will come for me alone. You don’t need to worry.”
“I’m worried my ass!” Pei Zizhuo grew so anxious he resorted to cursing, as if he had become some noble cultivator who feared death and disregarded human life. “Who can’t talk big? If you encounter karmic retribution in the next life, aren’t you afraid?”
“Afraid.”
If one truly disrupted human karma, it meant throwing the Six Paths of Reincarnation into chaos. The light punishment was being cast into the underworld to toil for a millennium; the heavy punishment was having one’s immortal bones stripped away so one could never ascend. Who wouldn’t be afraid?
Yet Shen Shu could not harden his heart. He, too, had once been one of the common masses and understood how fragile mortal life was. If he had the surplus strength to save people, why stand idly by and watch? He couldn’t cross the mental hurdle, and he also held a faint hope that since the Heavenly Realm was frantically running around in a panic over the White Jade Sinan, they surely had no time to spare a glance for him.
Shen Shu stated frankly, “Who knows what things will be like in the future? My master once told me that those who practice the Dao should deliver the world. If I were to stand by and watch people die just out of fear of this illusory retribution, I would probably have no face left to meet my grandmaster.”
The wind blew silently for a long while. Pei Zizhuo shifted slightly and said indifferently, “Verbose.”
This Illusory Realm happened to shroud Mount Chan, and it must be the handiwork of that Marriage Temple Master. Just what kind of evil specter could construct such a massive array?
The noon sun was venomously hot. The path ascending Mount Chan was open and flat, with more than half of the vegetation withered. Looking out into the distance provided an unobstructed view, making it truly unremarkable.
Shen Shu followed closely behind Pei Zizhuo, his brows tightly furrowed in a rare display. Having no heart to admire the surrounding scenery, he walked through the mid-mountain in silence.
Along the way, people hearing the news from various places came in a continuous stream to pay homage to the Marriage Temple Master, practically beating out another wide dirt road amidst the mountains.
The further forward they went, the more crowded it became. Shen Shu’s mind was not on the road, and he was bumped in the shoulder by someone behind him, causing him to crash straight into Pei Zizhuo’s back.
He immediately straightened his body, holding both hands high up at his sides as he apologized in panic, “I. I didn’t do it on purpose.”
Along the journey, an awkward atmosphere had consistently hovered between the two of them. If it were in the past, Shen Shu would definitely have been the first to soften his stance and coax the other person. But because he was distracted by the Illusory Realm mirror, he had even forgotten to smooth over the atmosphere.
To be bumped into so inexplicably, especially by someone who was an accomplished cultivator, made it hard not to suspect whether it was done on purpose. Shen Shu’s face was full of embarrassment, and he had already prepared himself to be hit by a round of Pei Zizhuo’s sarcastic remarks.
However, Pei Zizhuo turned his head in response, giving him a flat glance without furrowing his brows or spitting out vicious words. Instead, he stepped to the side, signaling for Shen Shu to walk alongside him.
“There are too many people and it’s chaotic. You walk on the inside.” Pei Zizhuo’s tone admitted no refusal as he stood firm in the middle of the path to wait for him to pass.
Shen Shu was stunned for a moment, walking up feeling somewhat flattered.
Seeing him lower his gaze and walk by his side with every movement made cautiously, this little-rabbit appearance was worlds apart from the rumors of someone greedy for male beauty with greedy and ruthless methods.
Pei Zizhuo had never liked persuading others to be good; he believed that a leopard cannot change its spots. This fellow was acting obediently by his side, but once separated from him, he might well return to his original form.
He wasn’t some self-sacrificing blockhead; he merely kept in mind that Danxiao had saved his life and reset his bones, so he was barely attempting to reform the man. “Do you know why a forced melon isn’t sweet?”
Hearing this, Shen Shu raised his head and asked in surprise, “You want to eat a melon?”
Pei Zizhuo said speechlessly, “Let’s stick to the matter at hand. I don’t want to eat a melon.”
There weren’t any melons to be found for him in the barren wilderness anyway. Shen Shu let out a sigh of relief. Though puzzled as to why he would ask such a thing, he patiently answered, “When a melon isn’t ripe, its stem grows very sturdy, so melons that are forcibly plucked are never sweet.”
“Doing things follows the same logic,” Pei Zizhuo looked straight ahead, his tone cold. “Nothing should be forced, otherwise it yields the opposite of what is desired.”
Shen Shu blinked. He heard the hidden meaning in Pei Zizhuo’s words, yet completely failed to understand what that hidden meaning was.
Who was forcing him? Wasn’t coming up Mount Chan his own voluntary choice? Or did he think that he was getting cold feet and unwilling to enter Mount Chan to catch demons?
Shen Shu pondered for a long time, turning it over and over, and could only come up with this single possibility: most likely, his expression had been too solemn when ascending the mountain, which made Pei Zizhuo lack confidence in him.
Shen Shu turned his head to look at Pei Zizhuo, his gaze unwavering and resolute. “But if I really want to eat this melon, then whether it’s sweet or not, I’m determined to eat it.”
Pei Zizhuo remained struck completely speechless.
Whether it was because late autumn nights fell quickly or not, Pei Zizhuo’s complexion darkened by a full three shades.
This soul-searching Q&A about melons came to an unceremonious end. With a cold face, Pei Zizhuo marched forward stubbornly for a little under an hour until they finally drew close to the Marriage Temple.
Perhaps because they were within the Illusory Realm, the clouds and mist above the temple roof parted to reveal a peaceful expanse, utterly devoid of any gloomy or evil omens.
The temple was constructed squarely, facing south with all three gates complete. It only lacked a stone guardian spirit at the courtyard entrance to suppress evil. Upon entering, aside from the incense table, there was the main hall, while the side chambers on both sides existed in mere name, simple to the extreme.
Shen Shu glanced at the threshold; it was gilded in gold, with the donors’ names engraved upon it. Xiao Tao’s words hadn’t been exaggerated in the slightest, the threshold of the Marriage Temple had truly been trampled flat by people, and by now it had been completely rebuilt.
Following the tide of people as they squeezed into the main hall, their eyes were instantly startled by the statue of the Marriage Temple Master. The figure possessed an extremely seductive face, with a pair of fox eyes brimming with affection, arched brows like new moons, and peach-blossom cheeks blooming in a smile, a beauty comparable to Bao Si.
It was a pity that judging by his attire and posture, all features pointed to male characteristics. His left hand twined a few strands of red thread, while his right arm cradled a spiritual pet.
This spiritual pet looked quite docile, resting its head limply in the Marriage Temple Master’s palm. Yet even though it had been shrunken a thousandfold, Shen Shu recognized at a glance that it was a Taotie!
This Marriage Temple Master had actually subjugated a Taotie! Because a Taotie’s very nature was insatiable greed and limitless desire, slight carelessness would cause it to backfire on its master; it was one of the most difficult ancient souls to subjugate.
Meanwhile, the incense before the temple burned endlessly, and the area in front of the main hall was crammed with people kneeling to pray. Their chanting and prayers buzzed around the ears like thousands of buzzing blowflies, truly a clamorous din.
Since ancient times, there had never been such a thing as a free lunch. The Marriage Temple Master granted wishes for people, but the price exacted in return was always higher than the wish itself.
For mortals, aside from vital energy, this meant their remaining lifespan.
The entire room of people knelt and kowtowed; only the two of them stood out like cranes among a flock of chickens, drawing conspicuous attention. To avoid alerting the enemy, Shen Shu pulled Pei Zizhuo back outside the building.
Before they had even taken two steps, Pei Zizhuo suddenly tugged at Shen Shu, gesturing for him to look up at the rooftop beams.
That single glance caused their hair to stand on end. The roof beams were actually piled high with dozens of ghastly, greenish-white skeletal frames, clinging to the crossbars like living people, using those pitch-black empty eye sockets to stare fixedly at the people kneeling in worship below.
Shen Shu’s heart tightened. This was the gaze of malicious ghosts. Everyone down below was devoutly praying with single-minded purity; at this moment, their souls were most easily extracted. One must strictly avoid disturbing them, lest the malicious ghosts be startled awake, in which case they could drain the souls of these people on the spot.
Shen Shu just wanted to step back when he heard a familiar, loud shout from behind: “This is a wicked deity! What are you a bunch of foolish commoners still kneeling and praying for?!”