Chapter 18: This Venerable One Once Begged You
Tianwen had a wide-range killing technique with a simple name: Wind. Once activated, it obliterated everything it touched within a given area.
Having personally tasted the ferocity of Wind, Mo Ran was naturally well aware of Chu Wanning's capabilities, and he knew there was no need to worry. He gave that pale-faced man draped in bloodred wedding robes one last glance before throwing the last of his exorcism talismans to buy him some time. Mo Ran then leapt to the side, holding Shi Mei in one arm and grabbing Mistress Chen with the other to take both unconscious people to hide a distance away.
Chu Wanning bore through the searing pain to force his other hand to move. Tianwen immediately lit up with a dazzling golden light, and he drew the willow vine back with a sharp movement.
Once released from this restraint, the ghost mistress's face twisted, and it leapt up to head straight for Chu Wanning.
Chu Wanning's blood-soaked robes danced like flames in the wind as he raised his hand toward the heavens, his expression fierce. He whirled Tianwen in the air, and its golden light began to intensify menacingly.
The willow vine rapidly grew in length by several dozen feet as it spun into a golden vortex, drawing in everything in its surroundings. The ghosts, corpses, golden boys and jade maidens, and even the snarling ghost mistress, all of them were pulled into the center of Wind and instantly minced by Tianwen's breakneck ferocity.
This technique was indiscriminately destructive. Nothing escaped its onslaught; even the nearby grass and trees were uprooted. With Chu Wanning as its center, an incandescent golden storm of immense proportions blanketed the skies, and coffins and corpses alike were swept into the gale. It consumed everything in reach, all of it drawn into the storm and torn apart by Tianwen's swift spinning.
All shredded into so much debris…
When the dust settled, Chu Wanning was left alone in the middle of a barren wasteland. Other than his solitary figure standing amidst the ruins, shrouded in brilliant scarlet like a red lotus in first bloom, or a fallen haitang blossom, there was only the ground, covered in shattered white bones, and a terrifying Tianwen, golden light still coursing along its length.
This sight made it pretty clear that Chu Wanning really was being quite considerate when he had whipped those disciples. Considering the preceding demonstration, if he had felt like it, he definitely could have instantly pulverized every single one of them at the Platform of Sin and Virtue…
The golden light gradually faded. Tianwen dissolved into sparkling stardust and returned into Chu Wanning's palm. He exhaled deeply, brows furrowed, and slowly walked toward his disciples in the distance, ignoring the pain in his shoulder.
"How is Shi Mei?" Chu Wanning asked when he reached their side, still suffering silently.
Mo Ran looked down at the as yet-unconscious beauty in his arms. Shi Mei's breaths were shallow and his cheek cold to the touch. This scene was far too familiar, a nightmare that Mo Ran had once been unable to escape, whether in life or in death. That time, Shi Mei had lain in his arms just like this as he gradually stopped breathing…
Chu Wanning leaned down to press his fingers against Mistress Chen and Shi Mei's necks, feeling for their pulse. "Hm?" he murmured. "How has the poison spread this far?"
Mo Ran's head snapped up. "Poison? Didn't you say it was nothing to worry about? Didn't you say they were merely hypnotized?"
Chu Wanning's brow was furrowed. "The ghost mistress uses the fragrance to hypnotize; it's a kind of poison. I expected only minor symptoms, not something of this magnitude."
Mo Ran couldn't speak.
"Take them back to Chen Manor first," Chu Wanning continued. "It isn't difficult to draw out this poison. As long as they're alive, it's fine."
He spoke with a flat, indifferent tone. Even though this was how Chu Wanning usually spoke, in the current circumstances, it made him seem callous and dismissive.
Mo Ran was violently thrust back into his memories of the snowstorm of that one year, when he'd knelt in the snow holding Shi Mei in his arms as Shi Mei's life drained away, bit by bit. Mo Ran's face had been stained with tears, and he'd screamed himself hoarse as he begged Chu Wanning to turn around, to spare his disciple a glance—begged Chu Wanning to lift a hand to save his disciple's life.
But what had Chu Wanning said then? It had been in a dismissive voice with an impassive tone, just like now. And just like that, the only time Mo Ran had ever knelt and begged in his life, he had been refused.
Amidst the falling snow, the person in Mo Ran's arms had gradually grown cold, like the snowflakes that had fallen on his shoulders and clung to his eyelashes.
That day, Chu Wanning had killed two disciples with his own hands.
One was Shi Mingjing, who he could have saved but had not.
The other was Mo Weiyu, whose heart had drowned in grief as he knelt in the snow.
Mo Ran's heart was instantly overcome with dread, with viciousness, with unreconciled malice and savagery that slithered like a snake.
For an instant, he had a violent urge to close his hands around Chu Wanning's neck, to shed this amiable disguise and bare his demonic appearance, to turn into a vicious ghost from a past life and tear into Chu Wanning's flesh, wring out an answer, and exact his revenge.
Revenge for the lives of those two helpless disciples in the snow.
But when he looked up, his gaze landed on Chu Wanning's bloodstained shoulder. The bestial roar died in his throat.
He didn't make another sound as he stared at Chu Wanning's face with a gaze bordering on hatred, but Chu Wanning didn't notice. After a while, Mo Ran lowered his head to look at Shi Mei's pale face. His mind grew blank. If something were to happen to Shi Mei again, then…
The person in his arms abruptly broke into a coughing fit. Mo Ran startled, heart quivering.
Shi Mei slowly opened his eyes and murmured in a weak, feeble voice. "A…Ran?"
"Yes! It's me!" Relief and joy washed away all of Mo Ran's anxieties. His eyes opened wide as he pressed a hand to Shi Mei's cold cheek, eyes flickering over him. "Shi Mei, how are you feeling? Does anything hurt?"
Shi Mei smiled faintly, features soft. He looked around. "How did we get here? Did I pass out? Ah! Shizun…" He coughed. "This disciple was incompetent… This disciple…"
"Don't speak." Chu Wanning fed Shi Mei a pill. "Since you're awake, hold this poison-cleansing pill in your mouth. Don't swallow it."
Shi Mei did so obediently, then startled, even more color draining from his pale face. "Shizun, how did you get injured? You're covered in blood…"
Chu Wanning answered in that same infuriatingly flat and indifferent tone, "It's nothing." He stood and glanced at Mo Ran. "You, figure out a way to take them back to the Chen Manor."
Now that Shi Mei was awake, Mo Ran's dejection had completely dissipated. He nodded amenably. "All right!"
"I'm going to head back first. There's something I need to ask the Chen family." Chu Wanning turned and left.
When he faced the boundless night, with nothing but withered grass in all directions, he finally couldn't hold it in anymore. He furrowed his brow, letting the pain show on his face.
His entire shoulder had been pierced by five claws, the flesh and tendons torn. The ghost mistress had cut him deep, down to the bone. However much he might have feigned composure to brave it, even sealing the veins so that he wouldn't pass out from blood loss, he was still only human. He still felt pain.
But so what if it hurt?
He walked, one foot in front of the other, wedding robes fluttering in the air. All these years, everyone had respected him, feared him, but never had anyone dared to stand by his side. Never had anyone concerned themselves with his well-being. He had long since grown used to this.
Yuheng of the Night Sky, the Beidou Immortal. Unloved from head to toe, uncared for whether alive, dead, sick, or suffering.
It seemed like he had never needed another's support, even from birth, never needed anything to depend on, never needed anyone for company. So there was no need to say it hurt and even less point in crying. He would just go back and dress the injury himself, cut away the torn and dead flesh, and apply some salve. It would be fine.
It didn't matter that no one cared about him. He'd come this far alone anyway. Things had been going fine for all these years. He could take care of himself.
Chu Wanning arrived at the gates to the Chen Manor, but before he could step into the yard, a burst of shrill screams came from within.
Heedless of his wounds ripping open, Chu Wanning rushed inside—only to see Madam Chen with a head of disheveled hair and both eyes closed, chasing her son and husband all over the place. Only the young daughter of the Chen family was spared; she stood nervously to the side, small body cowering in fear and shaking uncontrollably.
At the sight of Chu Wanning, Landlord Chen and his youngest son threw themselves at him with terrified cries. "Daozhang! Daozhang, save us!"
Chu Wanning shielded them behind his body, gaze sweeping over Madam Chen's closed eyes. "Didn't I say to keep your eyes on her and make sure she didn't fall asleep?!" he berated them.
"We couldn't watch her the whole time! My wife's health is frail, so she usually goes to sleep early. After you left, she tried to stay awake at first, but then she dozed off and started going berserk! She was yelling something… Yelling…"
Landlord Chen cowered behind Chu Wanning, shaking, and completely failed to notice both that the daozhang was wearing wedding robes and that he had a gaping wound on his shoulder.
Chu Wanning frowned. "Yelling about what?"
Before Landlord Chen could even open his mouth to respond, the crazed madam charged forward with her teeth bared. But the mournful cry that came from her lips was in the voice of a young girl. "Heartless and dishonest! Heartless and dishonest! Pay me back with your lives! I want all of you to die!"
"Ghost possession." Chu Wanning looked at Landlord Chen and demanded grimly, "Do you know this voice?"
Landlord Chen's lips trembled, and his eyes darted this way and that. He swallowed nervously as he said, "I don't know it! It's not familiar, I don't recognize it! Daozhang, please save us! Daozhang, please exorcise the ghost!"
By this point, Madam Chen was mere steps away. Chu Wanning lifted his uninjured arm and pointed at her. A bolt of lightning instantly struck the skies and trapped Madam Chen inside a barrier.
"You really don't recognize it?" Chu Wanning asked dispassionately with a sidelong glance.
"I really don't! I really don't!" Landlord Chen cried repeatedly.
Chu Wanning didn't bother wasting any more words. He flung out Tianwen and bound Madam Chen within the barrier.
He really ought to have bound Landlord Chen instead; it would have been both more convenient and easier to dig up the truth. But Chu Wanning had his own principles—he did not frivolously use Tianwen to interrogate normal people. So, he skipped over the easy target to instead interrogate the ghost in Madam Chen's body.
Interrogating ghosts was different from interrogating people. When questioning a person with Tianwen, the person would be unable to bear the torment and directly confess. But when questioning a ghost with Tianwen, a barrier would be formed with only Chu Wanning and the ghost inside, in which the ghost would regain the appearance it had in life and divulge information to Chu Wanning.
Tianwen abruptly ignited in flames, which surged along the vine from Chu Wanning's side all the way to Madam Chen.
The madam shrieked and twitched as the red flames on the willow vine suddenly turned into an eerie blue ghost fire that burned from the madam's side back to Chu Wanning's.
Chu Wanning closed his eyes. The flames burned along the willow vine to his hand, but the ghost fire couldn't hurt him, even as it burned up the length of his arm to his chest, then went out.
The Chen family watched on with horror and apprehension, unsure of what Chu Wanning was doing.
Chu Wanning's eyelashes fluttered lightly, both eyes still closed. A beam of white light slowly grew before him, followed by a fair-skinned foot stepping out of the beam as a young girl of about seventeen or eighteen appeared in his view.