Chapter 44: This Venerable One Doesn’t Want to Owe You

The Heart-Pluck Willow didn't get a chance to respond before his face twisted and he clutched his head in pain, his mouth open in a soundless scream. Even though he could make no sound, that horrifying expression and those bulging eyes made his agonized shrieks practically audible.

Help me. Help me—!

His lips contorted, mouth stretching impossibly wide, and bloody veins spread quickly across his sclera. If not for the chains shackling him in place, he likely would have vaulted up and violently ended his own life.

"I beg of you… Hurry…and destroy me…"

It seemed that the Heart-Pluck Willow's grasp on his consciousness was nearing its limit. He struggled in agony, but to no avail. A black fog surged out of the crucible and crashed into the body trapped inside in an outright attack. The chains rattled sharply as sparks flew.

This rapid turn of events drove Chu Wanning to move quickly. His long sleeves swept as he shielded the disciples behind him. "How can I save you?"

The Heart-Pluck Willow moved slowly, but he could still control the molten metal in the pool. More rows of ancient Cangjie script formed in the air.

"I am about to lose consciousness and attack you. It is not my intention to hurt you, but I will no longer be able to control myself. There is no time to explain; the only thing I can do for you now is apprise you of the techniques at my disposal. Pray take care…"

The metal re-formed.

"I am well-versed in three techniques.

"First, Dream of Nanke:25 a nightmare technique that puts those afflicted to sleep and grants them all they desire in a wondrous dream. As such, even those with spiritual powers strong enough to perceive it as an illusion might willingly remain therein, never to wake.

"Second, Temptation of the Heart: a technique that uses that which a person most covets as enticement, then induces the afflicted to slaughter one another.

"Third, Heart Pluck…"

But at that very moment, the Heart-Pluck Willow's spiritual energy ran out, and he could no longer control the metal to form more words. And, just like that, the effects of the Heart Pluck technique were left unknown.

A bloody mist exploded from the struggling Heart-Pluck Willow. As he lost command of the crucible's contents, he dragged his finger through his spilled blood, and his bulging, spasming eyeballs fixed on Chu Wanning. He yet refused to yield.

"Shizun!" Xue Meng hurriedly grabbed Chu Wanning as he made to approach. "Don't go—it might be a trap!"

The Heart-Pluck Willow, unable to speak, could only hold up that finger he had dipped in blood. Abruptly, tears welled in his eyes.

"You want me to come over?" Chu Wanning asked.

The Heart-Pluck Willow nodded slowly.

Chu Wanning was quiet.

"Shizun!"

Xue Meng tried to stop him once again, but Chu Wanning only shook his head before approaching the crucible by himself and extending a hand.

The Heart-Pluck Willow seemed quite moved by this. He gazed deeply at Chu Wanning and struggled to wave his arms—skin and flesh still melting off them—as if in gratitude. Then, pushing through the searing agony, he grabbed Chu Wanning's hand and wrote shakily on his palm:

Draw your lots, break the nightmare…

Do not…lose sight…of your…heart…

Once…the nightmare is broken…the trial…ends!

He hadn't yet finished writing the last word when he crumpled bonelessly, like a pile of mud, and fell back into the boiling crucible to disappear from view.

Simultaneously, an enormous wave of scarlet rose from the pool with a resounding crash. The metal roared up from the ground to surge into the sky as nine pillars of flame, each shaped like a dragon. Chu Wanning was forced to retreat, though the fire reflected in his eyes.

Four tokens shot out from the fiery pillars to hang in midair.

"Are these the…tokens for drawing lots that the Heart-Pluck Willow mentioned?" Shi Mei asked at once, remembering the Heart-Pluck Willow's words.

He stepped closer, but Chu Wanning stopped him. "Don't touch them. All of you, get behind me."

"Shizun…" said Shi Mei.

"I'm here. It'll be okay," said Chu Wanning. "Don't take any chances. Let me go first."

He spoke mildly and without much intonation, but Mo Ran's heart quivered. For some reason, the Chu Wanning before his eyes suddenly overlapped with that heartless person from his previous lifetime—the one who had coldly watched his own disciple perish.

If he could say something like that, then why, in the past, had he stood by and done nothing as Shi Mei died?

Mo Ran found himself feeling like he had never understood Chu Wanning. Despite himself, he also muttered, "Shizun…"

Chu Wanning paid his disciples no heed as he lifted a hand and picked one of the tokens out of the air. The token was made of jade, light yellow in color. He looked it over front and back and quietly murmured to himself. "Hm?"

"What's wrong?" asked Xue Meng.

"There's nothing on it," said Chu Wanning.

"How could that be?" Xue Meng was puzzled. "Let me try."

They each picked one of the four tokens. Xue Meng and Shi Mei's jade tokens were the same as Chu Wanning's, bare of any words. But when Mo Ran flipped his token over, his eyes widened.

"Blass?"

The other three immediately looked at him.

Xue Meng frowned. "What's a blass?"

Mo Ran jabbed a finger at his token. "That's what it says."

Xue Meng slid over to take a look and instantly let out an angry holler. "Pah! More like you just read the half that you could actually read!"

"It's 'blood hourglass,'" Chu Wanning said abruptly.

He could read the majority of ancient Cangjie script and didn't make things up if he wasn't sure. Therefore, if he said that was what was written on the token, then it was definitely written on the token.

Mo Ran stared blankly. "What does blood hourglass mean?"

Chu Wanning shook his head. "I don't know."

As if in answer, a low rumbling sound came from the arsenal's towering ceiling, and from it descended a massive copper hourglass mottled with rust. Unlike other hourglasses, this one had a cross mounted to its front, though its purpose was unknown.

Chu Wanning glanced at the hourglass, then looked down at the token in Mo Ran's hand. Blood hourglass. He suddenly understood what was meant by "draw your lots."

Chu Wanning's expression shifted abruptly as he shouted, voice sharp, "Mo Ran, throw the token away—quickly!"

The order left no room for argument; without knowing why, Mo Ran unthinkingly moved to obey.

He wouldn't have known if he hadn't tried, but now that he was trying, Mo Ran found that the jade token had somehow stuck firmly to his hand. He couldn't fling it away.

Chu Wanning cursed under his breath and rushed forward to trade his own token for Mo Ran's. But at that moment, dozens of thorny vines burst forth from the rusty hourglass above and headed straight for Mo Ran.

"Move!"

"Shizun!"

"Shizun!"

Blood splattered everywhere. At the very last second, Chu Wanning had shoved Mo Ran aside, and the thorny vines pierced through his body instead.

In his current younger form, Mo Ran had been no match for the force of Chu Wanning's shove. It was impossible not to hear the sound of tearing flesh as he stumbled backward and fell to the ground, followed by Xue Meng and Shi Mei's twisted screams, loud and shrill.

No way. How could this be? This was Chu Wanning—the Chu Wanning who had beaten Mo Ran, scolded him, who had never once looked on him kindly. The Chu Wanning who had callously watched his own disciple die right before his eyes. The Chu Wanning who had coldly said, "Vile by nature, beyond remedy." The Chu Wanning who…

Mo Ran raised his head.

Amidst the chaos, he saw the blood soaking through that same person's robes. Sharp, densely packed vines pierced from his back all the way through to his front, to the exact same place where he had been injured by the ghost mistress. That old wound, not yet healed, had once again been shredded into a bloody mess.

The Chu Wanning who had…who had protected Mo Ran with his own body in the coffin, who hadn't made a sound even as the ghost mistress's claws had stabbed through him…

The Chu Wanning who, hiding under the bridge, had secretly erected a barrier to shield everyone from the rain and the wind, but who had not dared to show his face.

The Chu Wanning who, after Shi Mei's death in their previous lifetime, had gone to the kitchen and clumsily made wontons so that Mo Ran might eat something.

The Chu Wanning who had such a bad temper and no way with words, who was afraid of bitter medicine, and who would cough when he tried to eat spicy food—the person with whom Mo Ran was most familiar.

The Chu Wanning whom Mo Ran had never remembered to look after, whom he had hated with gritted teeth, yet whom he had also found quite pitiful…

Chu Wanning.

Wanning…

"Shizun!" Mo Ran screamed as he scrambled toward Chu Wanning. "Shizun!"

"Your token…" Chu Wanning's hand shook as he lifted it. His face was pale, but his mien was as steady as ever. "Trade with me…"

The hand he extended toward Mo Ran held his own blank token. He raised it slowly, with difficulty, his entire arm shivering minutely with pain. Beneath a sheen of tears, his eyes were bright and resolute.

"Hurry. Give it to me!"

Mo Ran hadn't even gotten to his feet. He half crawled, half dragged himself to Chu Wanning and stared helplessly at those horrifying wounds.

"No… Shizun…"

"Shizun!"

Xue Meng and Shi Mei moved to come over as well, but Chu Wanning, exasperated, erected a barrier with a whirl of his hand to keep them back before calling out harshly, "Tianwen!"

Tianwen appeared as called, slicing clean through the dozens of vines piercing Chu Wanning.

But these vines were no ordinary sort. Chu Wanning could clearly feel them devouring his spiritual energy from where they were buried in his flesh. Having no other choice, he could only grit his teeth, grip the broken ends of those vines, and, steeling himself, rip them out.

A rush of blood instantly spilled from his flesh.

Chu Wanning tossed the vines aside and let out a breath, then quickly tapped his meridians, temporarily stopping the blood loss. He leveled a glare at Mo Ran, and his voice was rough as he said, "Give it to me."

"Shizun…"

"Trade tokens with me!" Chu Wanning demanded.

By now, Mo Ran had also figured out what "blood hourglass" meant. This curse, left by Gouchen millions of years ago, was similar to the one with which Mo Ran had tormented Chu Wanning in their previous life.

Indeed, god or demon, human or ghost, whenever any being reached into the depths of their cruelty, they all came up with more or less the same thing.

Blood hourglass: to pour the blood of a person into an hourglass, in place of sand or water, to keep time. And when the person was bled dry, time was up.

In Mo Ran's previous lifetime, at his coronation ceremony as Taxian-jun, hadn't he used Chu Wanning as a blood hourglass as well? Hadn't he made Chu Wanning watch as he trod over the remaining sects while he ascended to his throne? Hadn't he bled Chu Wanning out, drop by drop, as he watched on?

But in this life, in front of Gouchen's blood hourglass, Chu Wanning was willing to give his own safe token to Mo Ran—was willing to go on the cross in his place. He…

Mo Ran's heart beat out of rhythm in his chest. He couldn't even think.

How could this be? How could this be?!

Having failed to grab a person with its first strike, the copper hourglass brandished its thorny vines, ramping up for a second attack.

Chu Wanning stared at Mo Ran, his eyes flickering with a light that trembled faintly. His face was pale from the pain as he panted softly. "Mo Ran, I—listen to me. Hurry and trade with me."

Mo Ran couldn't speak.

"Hurry…" Chu Wanning's face was as pale as moonlit fresh snow. "Are you trying to make me block a second attack for you?!"

"Shizun…"

The vines shot out again.

In that moment, Mo Ran finally raised his token, and Chu Wanning reached for it without thinking.

But unexpectedly, right as their hands were about to touch, Mo Ran's eyes flashed. He pulled his hand back and instead switched positions to shield the unguarded Chu Wanning behind his own body. Right at that moment, the second wave of vines reached them, and Mo Ran met them head-on. In an instant, his whole body was bound and swallowed by the vines, and they dragged him to the copper hourglass.

"Mo Ran!"

Dozens of vines coiled around and pinned him tightly to the cross. Mo Ran turned to look toward Chu Wanning. His lips moved.

Chu Wanning's eyes widened abruptly. Mo Ran's voice was quiet, but Chu Wanning could hear it clearly. There was no mistaking it.

He said, "Shizun, I'm really not…beyond remedy…"

So, please, don't give up on me.

But he couldn't finish the rest of the sentence. In his last life, he'd wanted to say it, but he never had. Now, in this lifetime, it was too late.

Whether Chu Wanning gave up on him or not wasn't really important anymore. He just didn't want to owe this person. That was all.

He really was beyond dumb. He already couldn't figure out what it was he felt toward Chu Wanning. He didn't want things to get even more muddled.

Mo Ran thought to himself that in this life, the one he cared about, the one he liked, was Shi Mei and no other. The only reason he didn't want to exchange tokens with Chu Wanning was because he didn't want to owe him a favor. It was only because he didn't want…

He didn't want to see Chu Wanning bleed out again.

Mo Weiyu's heart wasn't made of stone. Nothing made him happier than when someone was nice to him. A little bit of kindness, and his smile would be brilliant as spring. A great, great deal of kindness, and he would willingly die without complaint.

A glittering sword burst out of the dense vines. It was undoubtedly a holy weapon, an ancient thing that emanated an overwhelming aura of valor. A pair of rings flanked its hilt, and its pommel was etched with patterns of thorns. The blade was slender, inlaid with an intricate effigy of a bull-headed dragon, and it coursed with an azure radiance so sharp that it looked like it could slice clean through anything, from the softest hair to the toughest metal.

Mo Ran only had enough time to read the word "Gouchen" written on the blade; before he got to "the Exalted," the sword of the God of Weaponry had stabbed directly into his chest.

Blood gushed out of him and flowed directly into the hourglass.

At the same time, a curtain of water descended into the arsenal, separating Mo Ran from the others. The abrupt torrential deluge trapped everyone else on their side.

"A-Ran!" Shi Mei yelled. "A-Ran!"

The rapid downpour blocked their line of sight, rendering it difficult for them to see how Mo Ran was holding up. Chu Wanning tried over and over to break through the water. He was pushed out again and again, until he was drenched all the way through, his eyes dark on his anxious face and his lips wholly without color.

Chu Wanning's voice was hoarse as he called out, "Mo Ran!"

His voice wasn't very loud, but it shook terribly. He himself didn't notice, but Shi Mei startled and turned to look at him. What he saw was his usually calm and composed shizun soaked and disheveled, his long, feathery eyelashes fluttering as he failed to suppress his emotions and worry clouded his features.

Chu Wanning summoned Tianwen, savagery written on his brow, tense as a bowstring stretched taut.

Uneasy, Shi Mei grabbed him. "Shizun, stop it! There's no way to get through!"

Chu Wanning shook him off, his eyes sharp as blades, and silently raised a barrier to try again. However, the waterfall was infused with the ample spiritual energy of Jincheng Lake. Not only was he unable to break through, the water beat down on him like a thousand cutting, piercing arrows.

Weakened as he was from his grave injuries, the intensity of this impact made it hard to remain standing. Chu Wanning clutched his chest and tried to bear it, but he was forced down to one knee. His face paled as the wounds on his back tore open and started seeping blood.

There was no way to tell if the wetness on Shi Mei's face was water or tears. "Shizun!" he cried in distress. "All this—why are you…"

"What do you mean, why?" Chu Wanning spat. "If that was you or Xue Meng, I would still…"

The pain was too much; brow knit, he fell silent.

Unexpectedly, a sword flashed from behind the waterfall, effortlessly halving the torrential downpour as easily as if it were slicing tofu.

The energy of that sword was extraordinarily immense. It slashed right toward Shi Mei, exactly where he stood. It was just about to hit him when Chu Wanning flung up his arm and used the last of his spiritual energy to erect a protective barrier around Shi Mei, only to cough up a mouthful of blood from the overexertion.

A deep, clear male voice rang out, measured and reverberating within the vault. "I am the God of Weaponry, Gouchen the Exalted. Thou art bold scoundrels indeed, to trespass into my arsenal of holy weapons!"