This is the day the Heavenly Dao descended its punishment.
The night was thick and heavy, and Qize Mountain was as silent as water, with only the faint chirping of insects and the sound of a breeze brushing against the leaves of the bodhi tree.
At this moment, the candlelight in the side hall of Qize Mountain flickered on. Chu Wen was gazing at the moonlight outside the window, waiting for Mo Yu to return.
Resting his chin in his hand, he watched the swaying red candle before him. The moment the third drop of wax rolled down, the door to the side hall pushed open.
Mo Yu had returned.
Seeing that he was still awake, Mo Yu looked clearly surprised.
“What is it, Mengfeng? Are you suffering from insomnia?”
With a somewhat heavy expression, Chu Wen shook his head. He patted the stool beside him, signaling for Mo Yu to sit down.
After closing the door securely, Mo Yu walked over to his side and sat down naturally.
Assuming the other person felt unwell, he asked with concern, “What is the matter?”
As if struggling to find the words, Chu Wen hesitated for a long time before finally saying, “Zigui, don’t you think you have been sticking a bit too closely to Senior Brother these past few days?”
“Ever since he was injured, you have been fussing around him and taking care of him every step of the way. Have you forgotten how he used to treat you?!”
Hearing these words, Mo Yu’s expression grew increasingly dark. His voice carried a hoarse edge: “Mengfeng, stay out of this matter. I have my own plans.”
Hearing him say that, Chu Wen grew anxious as well: “What kind of plans could you have? When he beat you unmercifully with those sixty whips for no reason at all, did he ever show you any mercy? When you were gravely wounded and bedridden, did he ever come to check on you?”
“Now you are wholeheartedly bending over backwards to be good to him. What on earth are you hoping to gain?”
Mo Yu was clearly stung by those words. He raised his voice to stop him: “Mengfeng! You are going too far!”
This was the first time Mo Yu had ever spoken harshly to Chu Wen, who looked back at him in utter disbelief. Realizing that he had lost his temper a bit, Mo Yu pressed his fingertips against his temples and refused to look at Chu Wen: “Apologies. I think both of us need to cool down.”
Consumed by a blazing wave of anger, Chu Wen flung out a final sentence: “Cool down by yourself then! I don’t want to see you right now.”
With that, he slammed the door behind him and stormed out.
Right now, Mo Yu felt his mind was a chaotic mess, so he simply allowed Chu Wen to wander off into the night.
The window remained unlatched. As a gentle breeze swept through, the candlelight flickered, its swaying shadows mirroring the tumultuous state of Mo Yu’s heart.
Why on earth did I lose my temper at Chu Wen for someone else?
The night air was heavy with dew, and the branches of the phoenix trees intertwined. Under the illumination of the moonlight, they cast shadows like a sprawling, entangled black net, firmly trapping Chu Wen within its embrace.
Having stormed out in a fit of anger just moments earlier, he began to sense that something was wrong once he calmed down and observed his surroundings.
Noticing the fog growing increasingly dense around him, Chu Wen felt a rising swell of doubt.
Steadying his mind, he turned around and began trying to retrace his steps.
Yet, after walking for an unknown length of time, he stumbled right back upon the exact same mark he had left behind earlier.
Chu Wen let out a cold laugh: “Playing ghosts and gods, are we?”
He swept two fingers across his eyes.
That pair of fox-like eyes, usually brimming with intelligence, instantly shimmered with a layer of golden brilliance.
When Chu Wen looked at the fog once more, its true appearance revealed itself before his eyes.
Beyond those thick layers of mist lay an empty, barren patch of ground.
Chu Wen’s intuition told him this was wrong. This place was not Qize Mountain.
Just as he prepared to turn and leave, a figure clad in a black cloak materialized before him.
To call it a person was difficult, for Chu Wen could not discern what the figure actually looked like.
Even his Spirit Fox Eyes failed to pierce the disguise, proving that this individual possessed unfathomable power.
He dared not make any rash moves, but the figure spoke first: “Do you not feel any hatred?”
Chu Wen found the person’s words utterly absurd.
Quietly gathering his internal spiritual energy in the palm of his hand, he asked vigilantly, “Hatred for what?”
The figure turned around. Chu Wen attempted to catch a glimpse of the individual’s face, but looking closer, he saw only a mass of black mist and a few strands of red and white hair poking out.
The stranger’s voice was hoarse, carrying a trace of imperceptible amusement.
“The First Prince of the State of Chu, whose entire nation was wiped out because Wanzi Shang attained immortality. Tell me, what is there to hate?”
Those words struck like sharp spikes straight into the center of Chu Wen’s brain.
The long-suppressed pus-filled abscess in his heart was brutally ruptured at last, and the toxic fluid corroded his limbs and bones with an unbearable itch akin to crawling insects.
Memories rushed back to the forefront of his mind: the day the heavenly disaster befell the immortal path, leaving the land of Chu strewn with corpses and rivers of blood. The imagery flashed vividly before his eyes.
That was a living hell.
His empress mother fought desperately to the death until the Heavenly Dao battered her soul into scattering fragments, and Yingying was also so tiny. Just a moment earlier, she had been trailing softly behind him calling him older brother, but the next second, she had thrown herself in front of him to block the strike from the Heavenly Dao, her soul shattering into nothingness.
Rage surged forth alongside his thoughts, uncontrollable like an erupting volcano.
Suppressing the fury boiling within him, he forced a few words through gritted teeth: “Who on earth are you?”
Perhaps sensing that he had recalled the past, the figure maintained a rough, muffled voice: “Who I am does not matter. What matters is that I can help you resurrect the State of Chu.”
Stepping closer to Chu Wen, the figure placed one hand upon his shoulder while wrapping the other around his hand, which was still secretly gathering magic.
“Young Master Chu, do not be so guarded. I mean you no harm.”
With a subtle wave, the stranger dispersed the spiritual power gathered in his palm.
Chu Wen tried once more to pierce through the disguise, but the face remained completely veiled by black mist.
Leaning in slightly, the figure whispered: “Think of your mother, and think of your young sister who had not yet reached adulthood. Do you not miss them?”
How could he not miss them? Every single night he yearned to see them in his dreams, yet they had never once appeared in any of his slumbers, leading him to wonder if his mother and Yingying blamed him.
Blamed him for keeping Wanzi Shang behind, which attracted the Heavenly Dao and ultimately brought about the destruction of Chu.
Countless nights of remorse plagued him. Remorse for his own self-indulgence, his weakness, and his complete powerlessness.
Chu Wen’s eyes burned red with rage. Glaring at the figure in black with bloodshot eyes, he rasped out, “What must I do?”
Seeing him take the bait, the figure smoothly produced a book bound in black and red. The cover bore a single illustration of a closed eye, with dried bloodstains smeared near the corner, as if aged by the passage of many years.
Presenting the book to Chu Wen, the figure stated: “This is the Blood Annihilation Book. It can help you open the resurrection array.”
Much like a dying traveler in a desert suddenly stumbling upon a straw of hope, Chu Wen accepted the tome with both hands and studied its pages closely. Casting aside any suspicions of a trap, he asked, “How is this used?”
Deep in the cold night, the stranger’s voice seemed to drift in on the wisps of fog.
“A book like this cannot simply be opened at will. It must be nourished with human blood for seven full years, then arranged into an array, and supplemented with magical artifacts before completion.”
“I will instruct you on how to find the required artifacts, and I will teach you how to draw the formation. Your task right now is simply to feed this Blood Annihilation Book with human blood.”
Lifting his gaze, Chu Wen asked, “Whose blood will do?”
The figure, whose face remained obscured by black mist, gazed down at him. A chilling aura emanated from the surrounding air as a mocking, half-amused chuckle escaped the stranger’s lips: “Anyone’s.”
Lost in thought, Chu Wen lowered his head.
Stepping closer to his side, the black-robed figure raised two pale fingers, conjured a tiny point of golden radiance at the fingertip, and pressed it directly against the center of Chu Wen’s brow.
A crushing, mountain-like weight suddenly pressed down upon him. Amidst a wave of dizziness and vertigo, he heard the stranger’s voice echo: “Since you are being so obedient, let me give you a small gift.”
“These are your memories from a past life. Everything you are about to see is what you experienced in your previous existence. Believe it or not, the choice is yours.”
As consciousness faded away, Chu Wen watched the figure’s silhouette vanish from his sight.
He reached out an instinctive hand, desperate to grab hold of the trailing edge of the cloak closest to him, but the fabric dissolved into wisps of black mist and drifted away into nothingness.
“Don’t leave.”
Tonight lacked a moon. Total darkness draped over the fog-shrouded back mountains, marking the area as a forbidden zone where no living soul dared to tread.
Once that stream of black and golden light penetrated Chu Wen’s mind, he plunged straight into unconsciousness.
Opening his eyes once more, he found himself adrift in an empty void. Around him floated fragmented scenes of a past he had never lived, yet each one was inextricably tied to his own destiny.
He reached out to touch one scene, and the vision was instantly absorbed into his fingertip. In the next instant, the landscape shifted dramatically, plunging him straight into a raging sea of fire.
This is the day the Heavenly Dao descended its punishment.
The entire world was drowned in a sea of crimson. Shattered ruins and mountains of corpses surrounded him on all sides. As he gazed at the unfolding scene, breathing became increasingly difficult.
Much like a dying fish stranded far from any source of water.
Suddenly, a blood-stained woman stumbled into view, running toward him in sheer panic, her arms tightly shielding a small child. Without warning, a bolt of heavenly punishment struck down in their direction. He lunged forward with all his might, desperate to protect the mother and child.
“Watch out!”
Yet the moment his hands made contact with the pair, his body passed straight through them as if they were made of air. He stood frozen in a daze for a split second before the heavenly punishment struck. Right before his eyes, he watched the mother and child’s souls scatter into nothingness.
“Ahhhhhhh.”
A heart-wrenching, miserable scream pierced his ears.
He collapsed powerlessly to the ground, burying his head in his hands, staring blankly ahead with dull eyes: “No, I didn’t mean to, I never thought it would turn out like this.”
In the next moment, the scene shifted once more. A little girl dressed in flowing blue celestial robes stood before him. Blood stained the corners of her lips, yet she smiled brightly, extending a tiny hand to wipe the tears from his face: “Older brother, do not cry. Yingying isn’t hurting, it’s just…” The corners of the little girl’s eyes brimmed with teardrops as her voice choked slightly, “…Yingying won’t be able to stay by your side anymore.”
“Older brother, you must live a good life all by yourself. Make sure to be happy every single day.”
“Yingying, Yingying, don’t leave! From now on, older brother will buy you your favorite candied hawthorns every single day, okay?”
Kneeling on the ground in desperate entreaty, Chu Wen reached out, trying desperately to pull the little girl into a tight embrace, but his arms closed around nothingness.
The little girl waved goodbye to him one final time: “Older brother, Yingying has to go now.”
Hearing those words, Chu Wen’s composure completely fractured. He scrambled frantically in a desperate bid to catch her.
“Yingying, don’t leave, don’t leave! Whatever you want to do from now on, older brother will agree to it, okay? Don’t leave, please don’t leave.”
Yet all his efforts were entirely in vain. The little girl before him gradually dissolved into blue particles, scattering away on the wind.
“Yingying.”
Instantly, the landscape shifted once again. He stood in a position of supreme authority, his clearly articulated knuckles resting lightly upon a skull resting beside him, his lowered gaze looking down with cold condescension at the demons gathered below.
Where is this?
How did I become a member of the demon race?
He brushed a hand across the corner of his eye. It was completely dry.
Without warning, the leader of the demons stepped forward and announced, “Your Excellency, the forces of the immortal realm have attacked!”
He watched his past self stand up and command, “Everyone, follow me out to meet the enemy!”
Roars of assent and battle cries erupted from the crowds below.
The scene then transitioned into the grand war between gods and demons, plunging the world into utter chaos. Gazing down at the devastated mortal realm suffering through purgatory, he felt not a shred of pity within his heart.
He looked at his revered, idolized master standing before him like an untainted flower upon a snowy peak, and an inexplicable sense of satisfaction bloomed in his chest.
Fifty years ago, my people were slaughtered by your hands just like this. Today, I will turn the very world you fought so hard to protect into this exact state, so you can truly experience what I felt that day!
Catching the flash of disappointment in that person’s eyes, Chu Wen felt a sudden, sharp pang pierce his heart.
I didn’t do anything wrong! I am merely making the people of this world pay for the lives of my countrymen!
Amidst the chaos of the immortal-demon war, day and night turned upside down. The mortal world transformed into a living hell where neither birds nor beasts survived.
He watched with his own eyes as the master he had once worshipped and adored drove the realm’s foremost Lingkong Sword straight through his chest.
When he cast his final glance at that person, the other merely frowned slightly, their eyes still holding the exact same boundless compassion as always.
Even at the very end, are you still pitying me?
A self-deprecating smile curved his lips as a tear slipped past the corner of his eye.