Chapter 99: Shizun’s Third Weapon

That night, Mo Ran slept propped against the haitang tree.

There were many places in Sisheng Peak that bore traces of Chu

Wanning's presence. If he'd wanted to pay his respects, there was none more

suitable than Red Lotus Pavilion. But only leaning against this tree dulled the

ache in his heart; only here could he feel a faint connection to the world of

the living.

He had once been certain that taking Chu Wanning as his master was

the greatest misfortune of his life, that it had been a mistake from the start.

Only now did he see that the unfortunate one wasn't him, wasn't Mo Weiyu,

but the one who stood under the flowers that day, head bowed and lost in

thought. The unfortunate one was Chu Wanning.

Xianjun, Xianjun, pay attention to me.

He seemed to vaguely recall those words as the first he had said to his

shizun. Maybe not those exact words—it had been too long ago, and he no

longer remembered it clearly. But he could still remember vividly the look

on Chu Wanning's face as his lashes flicked up, bewildered and startled.

How gentle he had looked then.

As he lay beneath the flowering tree, Mo Ran thought that, if time

could flow backward, back to the day he chose his master, he absolutely

shouldn't pester Chu Wanning into accepting him as a disciple again, no

matter what. Because the price exacted for that moment, for the flicker of

those eyelashes, was the endless entanglement to follow—was Chu

Wanning's very life.

Two lifetimes. His shizun had come to ruin at his hands.

Two lifetimes…

Mo Ran's throat worked in a swallow, and he closed his eyes against

the threat of a sob. He passed a long while in an agony that felt as if a million

ants gnawed at his heart before finally drifting into a fitful slumber. In his

dreamscape, a fragment of memory he'd dared not touch since his rebirth

wrested free of its chains, raised its knife, and carved out his heart.

At that time, he had stood at the pinnacle of the human realm, and Chu

Wanning, his spiritual core abolished, had been a prisoner in his palace.

He had been targeted in recent days by several successive

assassination attempts, the last perpetrated by Xue Meng and Mei Hanxue.

Although Mo Ran was too powerful to yield his life to them, he had sustained

grave injuries. He'd needed to convalesce for over a month within the

confines of his palace before he recovered his strength.

Sichuan was a damp place, even more so in those days, and the pitterpatter of rain could be heard day and night.

Mo Ran stood under the shelter of the colonnade, his fingers pale as

jade where they clutched the hem of the heavy brocade cloak draped over his

shoulders. He gazed at the gray skies overhead, his countenance caught

between mirth and madness. Even in silence, the twisted nature that radiated

from him was unmistakable. He had been born with such a handsome face,

yet the light in his eyes was dark and ruthless, devoid of warmth.

And the longer he sat on that throne, the darker it grew.

Footfalls sounded behind him. "There you are," he said without

looking back.

"Are you going to lay waste to Kunlun Taxue Palace?" Chu Wanning's

voice echoed faintly in the grand hall.

"And what if I am?"

A pause. "Have you forgotten your promise to me? You swore you

wouldn't seek Xue Meng's life."

Mo Ran's voice was even. "Shizun has come all this way and hasn't

even stopped to ask after my injuries, or whether I'm cold standing out in this

wind. He only cares who I'm going to kill."

"Mo Weiyu, I came to tell you to stop doing things you'll live to

regret."

"Heh, regret? Shouldn't you be the one who feels regret? You already

shattered your core trying to stop me from razing Rufeng Sect. Now I'm going

to raze Taxue Palace, and you're just an ordinary person, without the strength

to oppose me. Don't you regret not minding your own business back then?"

Mo Ran turned to glance at him over his shoulder, a flicker in his eyes

and a cruel smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Chu Wanning, you're a

worthless cripple. How are you going to stop me? What do you have left?"

Chu Wanning could find no words for a long while. Maybe because he

really did have nothing left.

A deafening clap of thunder suddenly split the skies, and rain poured

forth, streaming down the roof and spilling from the eaves. Finally, Chu

Wanning closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he only said, quiet,

"Don't go."

Mo Ran turned on his heel with a swish of black robes. Against a

backdrop of torrential rain and freezing wind in ash-gray skies, he looked at

Chu Wanning within the hall. "And why shouldn't I go? I already gave Xue

Meng his chance back then. You submitted to me for his sake, and I kept my

word and spared his life in exchange for your body—but now he's the one

after my life. So tell me, why shouldn't I go?"

Chu Wanning looked at him in silence.

"Well? You've nothing to say?" Mo Ran scoffed. "Go on—berate me,

curse me out, say something. Chu Wanning, what happened to all that might of

yours? I know Xue Meng's your favorite, your prized disciple; he's earnest

and sincere, and I'm no more than mud on the sole of his boot."

"That's enough." Chu Wanning's brows were knitted tight on his pale

face, as if trying to suppress some emotion.

"It is not enough! How could it be?" The sight of Chu Wanning's

distress filled Mo Ran's heart with a savage glee. Anger, ecstasy, hatred, and

jealousy scorched his heart with their intensity, and his eyes glinted as he

paced back and forth.

"There's no second chance, Chu Wanning, there's no second chance for

him. I'm going to kill him, and I'm going to skin him for a rug, drink wine

from his skull! I'll scoop his insides out, chop him up, and stew him! You

can't stop me! Chu Wanning, you can't stop me!" The more he raved, the

more enraptured he grew. His eyes reddened; he was frenzied, crazed.

"Snap out of it!" Suddenly a hand was fisted in the collar of his robes,

and another struck him hard across the face. Chu Wanning was so close that

Mo Ran could see the quiver of his eyelashes and the shining tears in his

eyes. "Mo Ran, wake up already. Wake up…"

"I am awake!" The burn of that slap on his cheek drove him only

further into insanity. He glared at Chu Wanning's face and his anger flared.

"I'm perfectly fucking awake! You're the one who's asleep! Are you blind?!"

Mo Ran shoved Chu Wanning away and tore open the collar of his robes to

reveal the bloodstained bandages across his chest. "Are you blind, Chu

Wanning!" he roared, jabbing at his own chest, and when even that wasn't

enough, ripped the gauze away completely to expose the bloody mess

beneath.

"Who do you think did this? Your perfect little disciple, Xue Meng! If

he had aimed his Longcheng just a hair to the side, I'd be dead! So you tell

me why the fuck I should let him go! As far as you're concerned, his life is a

life, but mine counts for nothing. Is that it?!" In his fury, Mo Ran grabbed Chu

Wanning's hand and pressed it to his bloody wound. "Didn't you want to stop

me? Here's your chance; go on then, dig out my heart! Chu Wanning, why

don't you just dig out my fucking heart?!"

Chu Wanning was silent. The tips of his fingers trembled, cold as ice.

Mo Ran glared at him, furiously, ruthlessly, the veins at his neck

throbbing. "Go on," he rasped, his voice raw, "dig it out."

The torrent of rain against the roof was frenzied madness. Silence

reigned. Neither moved.

After an interval, Mo Ran finally released Chu Wanning's hand and,

breathing low and harsh, declared in a deep voice, "Xue Ziming and Mei

Hanxue's lives are mine."

Chu Wanning said nothing.

"Go ahead and hate me, Shizun," he said. "My life's already come to

this anyway. Our lives have already come to this. None can turn back now,

so we might as well press on in this darkness. I'm merely dragging some old

friends along for company on my way to hell."

That day, Chu Wanning had gazed at the back of Mo Ran's black robes

as he stalked away. He finally spoke: "Mo Ran, if you destroy Taxue Palace

and kill Xue Meng, I will end my life in front of you. I have nothing left to

barter with, but at the very least I can still choose death."

When he heard those words, Mo Ran paused. He turned to look over

his shoulder, and a smile spread across his handsome face as he stood

against that dreary backdrop of wind and rain. "So long as this venerable one

draws breath, you'll not find death so easily."

Chu Wanning only looked at him.

"Lest you forget, even when all the blood had drained from your body,

I still snatched you back from the gates of death. You'll be spending the rest

of this life with me, no matter how much you disgust me."

After venting his madness, Mo Ran gradually regained his usual placid

demeanor, cold and threatening. "My dear shizun, just behave yourself and

wait here at Sisheng Peak. When I capture Xue Meng, I'll haul him back here

so he can take a good long look at the god he frets over night and day

writhing under me like a wanton little slut. In consideration of our shared

past, it's only right that I grant him the courtesy of full comprehension before

he dies, after all."

But, counter to all of Mo Ran's expectations, Chu-zongshi was still

Chu-zongshi.

One month later, Mo Ran stood proudly before Heavenly Lake at the

summit of Kunlun Mountain and did exactly as he said he would. He captured

Mei Hanxue and Xue Meng and bound them to pillars of ice, then used the

Zhenlong Chess Formation to induce the thousands of souls at Taxue Palace

to slaughter one another as the two looked on. The snowy mountain, once

pristine and majestic, was dyed crimson in an instant. Blood streamed into

Heavenly Lake and seeped into the ground.

Mo Ran sat calmly before the palace gates, eating grapes fetched by

the servants and smiling as he oversaw the scene of destruction. "Mengmeng,

do you like it?" He glanced at Xue Meng, whose eyes were glazed and

unfocused.

Xue Meng remained silent and unresponsive, as if struck deaf.

Pleased, Mo Ran smiled still more affectionately and said, "Your

cousin staged this show just for you. Are you enjoying it?"

A faint murmur: "Spare Taxue Palace."

Mo Ran blinked. "What?"

"Spare Taxue Palace." Xue Meng's usually bright gaze was empty.

"Let them go. Let Mei Hanxue go. I was the one who tried to kill you. Kill

me; leave everyone else out of it."

Mo Ran couldn't help but laugh. "Are you trying to negotiate with

me?"

"No." Xue Meng's eyes were hollow. "I'm begging you."

The darling of the heavens had said, I'm begging you. Mo Ran's eyes

gleamed, the demon in his heart reveling at these words. Faintly amused, he

gripped Xue Meng by the jaw and forced him to look up at him. Yet before he

could speak, a burst of radiant green lit up the skyline.

"What's going on?"

His retinue had no chance to respond. A resplendent spiritual array

flowed out over the towering summit to cover all the thousands of miles of

Kunlun Mountain.

And there above the array stood Chu Wanning, his robes white as

snow fluttering lightly among the clouds. A peculiarly shaped guqin hung in

the air before him. It was black from end to end, with a tail that curved

upward and ended in a flourish of blooming branches, each adorned with

dew-laden haitang blossoms that glowed with a luminous radiance.

This was Chu Wanning's third holy weapon: Jiuge.