43 Chapter 43: This Venerable One Is a Sacrificial Offering?!

Mo Ran didn't even get a chance to respond before an ear-piercingly shrill voice rang out behind him.

"Make way, make way! Let me through!"

It was the fuban.

Lugging that heavy pile of rocks, the fuban trudged to the same apothecary as before, where it yelled, "I can't take it anymore! Hurry and save me, Doctor!"

A white-haired merman swam out, but his tail was distinct from those of the other merfolk Mo Ran had seen. The entire length glittered lustrously, like flowing gold. His hair was held back with simple clips and draped over his shoulders, and his face, although wrinkled, was well-proportioned, with a straight nose and pleasantly curved lips. His golden eyes were as tranquil as a misty drizzle, and it was easy to imagine how handsome he must have been in his prime.

Mo Ran's blood ran cold. This was different. Where had that turquoise sea dragon gone?

The elderly merman glanced at them from afar but said nothing. Instead, he made his way to the doorstep and bent over to remove the rocks from the fuban's back, one by one.

With the removal of the last rock, the illusion shattered. The fuban exploded, its blood diffusing into the water like the haze of fog. Near simultaneously, all the monsters and creatures in the market stiffened for a split second—before drooping bonelessly as their bodies festered, saturating the lake's water with a miasma of blood.

The lake was dyed a red that rapidly deepened as more and more blood seeped into the water. First, things in the distance became hard to see, but soon, the immediate area was clouded over as well, and finally, scarlet filled their vision to the point that they could no longer even see their hands in front of their faces.

"Mo Ran," said Chu Wanning.

Mo Ran knew Chu Wanning all too well and needed no further explanation. "Shizun, I'm here. Don't worry."

Chu Wanning was a man of few words, or rather, he was no good with words. For a moment, he was silent before simply saying, "Be careful."

Through the bloody, muddled water, Mo Ran couldn't see Chu Wanning's face. That face probably wouldn't have changed color even if the sky fell, but he could clearly detect the concern in his shizun's voice. He rarely ever sensed this kind of warmth from Chu Wanning in everyday circumstances, and a sudden warmth suffused his own chest. He gripped Chu Wanning's hand even tighter. "Okay."

Standing close, back-to-back, despite not being able to see each other, each man could feel the other's heartbeat and breathing. The situation was perilous, so Chu Wanning summoned Tianwen, and Mo Ran followed suit with Jiangui, having recovered his spiritual strength.

After they called out their holy weapons, Mo Ran exclaimed, "Shizun, look over there!"

Chu Wanning turned toward the apothecary, where the elderly merman had just been cleaning up the rock pile. There he saw that a couple dozen white spots of light of varying sizes had appeared on the ground. Hand in hand, he and Mo Ran walked over, and sure enough, the spots of light were the fuban's rocks.

The elderly merman had arranged the several dozen rocks into three neat rows, and every piece glowed with a gentle radiance. Slowly, a figure appeared before the rocks. It seemed to be the same white-haired merman from earlier.

"Who are you?" Mo Ran asked.

The merman didn't answer. He only glanced at Chu Wanning, then Mo Ran, before wordlessly lifting his hand and pointing at the rocks on the ground.

"You want us to pick up the rocks?" Mo Ran asked.

The white-haired merman nodded, then extended a single finger.

"Do you mean…pick only one?"

The white-haired merman nodded, then shook his head. He pointed at Mo Ran, then Chu Wanning.

Mo Ran figured it out. "We should each pick one?"

This time the white-haired merman nodded vigorously before standing still and staring fixedly at them.

"Shizun, should we do as he said?" Mo Ran asked.

"Might as well. We don't have any other ideas."

So, they each picked a rock. Unexpectedly, as soon as the tips of their fingers touched their rocks, a multitude of distorted colors flashed before their eyes as the world spun at full tilt. When things settled back down, the endless red had disappeared.

On closer inspection, they realized they had been teleported back to the arsenal of holy weapons.

"Shizun!"

"Shizun, A-Ran!"

Xue Meng and Shi Mei were there too. Shocked and overjoyed to see Chu Wanning, they rushed over to greet them. Chu Wanning hadn't expected the glowing rocks to be enchanted with a teleportation spell, and he was a little nauseous from the rapid spinning. He put one hand to his forehead while the other remained tightly clutched around Mo Ran's fingers.

The entire time they had been within the bloody lake, their hands had been joined without ever parting.

Chu Wanning's status being what it was, he rarely had the opportunity to hold hands with Mo Ran. Most of the time, he could only stand a little ways off to watch the intimacy between his disciples from a distance. Thus, he cautiously cherished this rare warmth in his palm…

"Shi Mei!"

But this warmth, which was such a precious treasure to him, was to the man holding his hand perhaps as worthless as a pair of worn-out shoes—something that might not be worth mentioning, or perhaps not even worth noticing at all.

The moment Mo Ran saw Shi Mei, he automatically let go of Chu Wanning.

Chu Wanning's fingertips twitched slightly, and, for a split second, it seemed as if they wanted to grab back on to Mo Ran. But what excuse would he have for that?

He no longer had the courage to like someone. He didn't want to lose the pathetic bit of pride he yet retained.

Chu Wanning watched Mo Ran smiling so easily at Shi Mei, hugging him so casually and stroking his hair so gently.

Chu Wanning's fingertips drooped back down with a touch of embarrassment and a touch of awkwardness. Luckily, his face was habitually impassive, so his emotions didn't show through too clearly.

Maybe it was because he was getting older—and that he was a stiff person to begin with—but after that spin in the teleportation array, his chest felt a little cold. But it wasn't too bad. There was still a bit of warmth left at the tips of his fingers.

Leaning on that thread of remaining warmth, which would soon disappear, he slowly stood straight and arranged his gaze and features until they were tidy and proper.

"Shizun, are you feeling okay? Your face is so pale…"

Chu Wanning nodded at Xue Meng. "I'm fine." He paused for a moment, then asked, "Were you two also teleported here by that merman?"

Before Xue Meng had a chance to respond, there came a burst of burbling sounds. Chu Wanning turned to see something emerge from the boiling hot crucible pool with a splash: a badly mutilated face, followed by the rest of an equally disfigured person.

This person definitely couldn't be mortal, or at least definitely not a living being, for no mortal could survive being submerged in fiery molten metal. But though raw and burned all over, he still clearly drew breath. Chains shackled his four limbs and bound him within the crucible to suffer.

He slowly opened his eyes and bowed over and over to the group, his gaze a plea for them to approach the crucible.

Although he couldn't speak, he did have other means of expressing himself. They watched as he waved his arms, bloody flesh barely clinging to his bones, and a small wave surged forth from the metal in the crucible to form several rows of ancient script in the air.

"What kind of writing is this?" Xue Meng asked, startled. "Why can't I read a single character?"

"It's ancient Cangjie24 script," Chu Wanning replied. "Something I've yet to teach you."

"Then what does it say?" Mo Ran asked.

Chu Wanning walked up and carefully studied the writing. "He is…asking for help."

According to legend, ancient Cangjie script was the writing of the heavenly realm. It was practically a lost art in the mortal realm; very few people knew it anymore, and even an accomplished zongshi like Chu Wanning wasn't fluent, though he could at least get the gist.

Chu Wanning studied the writing for a bit, slowly interpreting. "He says that he is the spirit of this willow tree, and he's called the Heart-Pluck Willow. When he was a sapling, Gouchen the Exalted brought him here from the seventh heaven of the realm of the gods. Afterward, Gouchen abandoned this world for reasons unknown. The Heart-Pluck Willow hasn't seen him since and doesn't even know if he yet lives.

"But even without Gouchen's presence, the Heart-Pluck Willow has continued to follow his instructions over these hundreds of millennia, protecting Jincheng Lake and guarding the arsenal of holy weapons. Nourished by the spiritual energy here, the tree gradually cultivated a human form. The years passed without incident until one day, when a—"

Chu Wanning stopped reading.

"What's the matter?" asked Mo Ran.

"I don't recognize these three characters. Seems to be a name." Chu Wanning raised a hand to point at the complex, twisting characters, "Anyway, this person came to Jincheng Lake. He was powerful and cruel, and he slaughtered everything in the lake, then used the Zhenlong Chess Formation to control their remains. The Heart-Pluck Willow was no exception."

"That person is probably the fake Gouchen!" Mo Ran said immediately.

Upon hearing his words, the Heart-Pluck Willow's eyes flickered, and he nodded twice in agreement.

"Huh, I really guessed it." Mo Ran grinned, a little embarrassed, and scratched his head. "Ha ha, I'm pretty smart, eh?"

Chu Wanning gave him a mild look before continuing. "In the years since, the Heart-Pluck Willow has been in a continually unconscious state, without even half a day of clarity. Fortunately, the other two willow branches that were once connected with him in body and spirit—Tianwen and Jiangui—both awakened. Borrowing their strength, Zhaixin Liu was temporarily able to regain consciousness. If not for that, he probably would've already lost control and hurt everyone here."

When "everyone here" heard that, they were either incredulous or apprehensive. The three youths collectively raised their heads to stare at the being in the crucible, unsure of how to take its self-introduction.

"Willow-qianbei—" Mo Ran started.

"Willow-qianbei?" Xue Meng interrupted.

"Well, what else am I supposed to call him? Pluck-qianbei?" Mo Ran glared at Xue Meng before continuing. "I'm gonna say something you probably won't like, but there seem to be some holes in your story."

Though the Heart-Pluck Willow could not speak, he could understand spoken words. He turned to face Mo Ran.

"You initially said you were under the fake Gouchen's control," said Mo Ran, "but then you said you regained your consciousness under the influence of Tianwen and Jiangui's awakening. But the fake Gouchen was the one who gave me Jiangui. How could he not have known the consequences of doing that?"

The Heart-Pluck Willow shook his head, and the characters in front of Chu Wanning changed.

"I am of the realm of the gods," Chu Wanning read for him. "He knows little about me and is unaware that the holy weapons can affect my consciousness. In his pursuit of the three forbidden techniques, he needs to draw upon my power, but my lifespan is coming to its end, and he has been frantically looking for a way to extend my life. However, I sincerely do not wish to continue living; death would be far preferable to helping this villain. It's only that I am under his control and cannot act of my own free will…"

Chu Wanning paused to think aloud. "That must be why the fake Gouchen brought Mo Ran here. Mo Ran is a spiritual essence of wood, so the fake must be planning to combine his spiritual power with that of Jiangui, which he'll offer as a sacrifice to you."

The Heart-Pluck Willow nodded.

Mo Ran still didn't quite understand. "But that fake Gouchen said himself that there are two spiritual essences of wood. Shizun is one as well; why did he only lock up me?"

The Heart-Pluck Willow wrote, "The younger the sacrificial offering, the better. When it comes to making an offering to a tree spirit, even more care must be taken. Moreover, the offering must be sated in their appetites and desires, their every need satisfied, and their life must be taken as they are immersed in a euphoric illusion that satiates these needs—they cannot be even slightly aware. Otherwise, the offering would have lingering regrets, and the resulting resentful energy would accelerate my withering."

Upon hearing this, Mo Ran's thoughts snapped back to the fox spirit monster in his cell, the one that had taken on Chu Wanning's appearance.

So that had been to sate his desires, like fattening up a pig before the slaughter to make it tastier. That also explained why he had seen Chu Wanning instead of Shi Mei. He cherished Shi Mei far too much to defile him. When it came to questions of desire, he did indeed lust after Chu Wanning far more than he did Shi Mei…

The strange look on Mo Ran's face made Chu Wanning assume he was still uneasy. Wanting to reassure him, he asked, "What are you thinking about?"

Mo Ran's face turned red. "N-nothing."

Chu Wanning stared at him blankly for a second before comprehension dawned. He instantly closed his mouth. A while passed before he turned away in a fit of embarrassed rage.

"Uneasy"? This jerk had definitely just been thinking about those so-called "desires"—daydreaming, even!

Chu Wanning shook out his sleeves in indignant fury and, expression icy, muttered, "Shameless."

Mo Ran had nothing to say in his own defense. Good thing Chu Wanning didn't know just who had been satisfying his desires in that illusion, or he'd probably skin Mo Ran alive in a fit of anger.

While he was in the midst of this musing, the floor of the arsenal of holy weapons suddenly started to shake.

Xue Meng let out a startled yell. "What's happening?!"