Chapter 96: This Venerable One’s Hatred Born in This Life

It was hardly suprising that Ye Wangxi despised Mei Hanxue. This

man was none other than that "da-shixiong" from Peach Blossom Springs

who'd had innumerable female cultivators cooing over him and squabbling

jealously for his attention.

Nangong Si had initially assumed that this new arrival was some

powerful character, but he turned out to be a pretty boy who relied on his

looks. His initial interest vaporized in an instant, and he turned back to the

battle at hand.

Mei Hanxue glanced at Xue Meng, a flicker of exasperation in his

gaze, but did not deign to respond. His brows dipped and his fingers danced

over the strings of the pipa. At the sound of his notes, the hundred cultivators

of Taxue Palace spread out in all directions. "Guqin division, play the Song

of Alkaid;5

 pipa division, perform the Nullification Dance."

On his command, the ensemble changed its tune. A cascade of chords,

played strong and fast, blended into a resounding refrain that scattered the

clouds. Immediately, the hordes of demonic fiends ceased their fighting and

stood in place with necks outstretched and hollow stares on their ghastly

faces.

Seeing this, Li Wuxin was reminded that those of Kunlun Taxue Palace

were not only masters of music, but also knew something of barrier-mending.

He tilted his head up and yelled, delighted, "Honored nephew6

 Mei, would

you happen to know how to mend the Heavenly Rift?"

Mei Hanxue ignored that distasteful address of honored nephew and

answered, "The Heavenly Rift of the Infinite Hells is beyond my abilities."

"Ah, then…" Li Wuxin's face paled, then he swept his sleeve and

sighed gustily.

"Hanxue, what about the barrier around Butterfly Town—would you

be able to hold that down?" Xue Zhengyong spoke up.

Sisheng Peak and Taxue Palace had always been on friendly terms,

and Mei Hanxue, seeing a familiar senior, bowed courteously. "I can try."

"Great!" Xue Zhengyong slapped his hands together. "You go guard the

barrier at the cardinal directions, make sure the demons don't escape, and

call Yuheng back—"

"The Yuheng Elder?"

"Ah, my damn memory, I forgot you've never met Yuheng. Don't

worry; you'll know him when you see him. Just look for the person

maintaining the barrier right now."

"Understood." Mei Hanxue, cool and collected, sailed off toward the

outskirts of the town with a tilt of his sword, like a shooting star upon the

wind.

Nangong Si nocked three arrows onto his bow and loosed them in

three directions at once. Amidst the thrumming of the bowstring, he saw Mei

Hanxue shoot past with speed and grace as the rest of the disciples from

Taxue Palace suppressed the enemy with mellifluous chords. He was

surprised despite himself. "This person seems quite capable after all," he

said to Ye Wangxi. "Why did you call him a pretty boy who relies on women

to fight his battles?"

Ye Wangxi, somewhat baffled himself, had no immediate answer. But

the fiends were moving sluggishly now, presenting an ideal opportunity to

destroy them, so he didn't waste time thinking about it. "Perhaps he didn't go

all out against me back then," he offered, then turned back to the enemy and

said no more.

With four of the ten great sects now on the scene, the fight against the

Heavenly Rift became somewhat less desperate. But the battle was still a

harrowing one.

Although the fiends presently on the ground were immobilized by the

chords of Taxue Palace, more oozed, shrieking and howling, from that bloody

eye linked to the ghost realm with each passing minute. The force from Taxue

Palace had taken up position in midair, but they couldn't defend themselves

while playing. Thus the demonic fiends rushed toward the pipa and guqin

players where they hung between the clouds.

The Taxue Palace disciples had no choice but to divert some of their

number to play a song of defense. The song of suppression and exorcism

weakened at once, and the masses of fiends on the ground resumed their

furious rampage. Worse still, as the portal to the ghost realm yawned wider,

several high-level demons consumed enough yang energy from the mortal

realm to cast off their fetters and cross the rift, dragging their chains and

shackles behind them.

These creatures were nothing like the minor fiends that preceded them.

They were possessed of both their corpses and resentful souls, and were far

more powerful and vicious, well beyond the scope of what an average

cultivator could handle alone. In an instant, some hapless stragglers were

slammed to the ground in a single strike, their chests pierced through by bony

claws.

Blood splattered across the ground with a wet squelch as the highlevel demons ripped out those cultivators' hearts, rich with spiritual energy.

The fiends bit greedily into them, red blood gushing out and streaming down

the rotting flesh of their faces. Soon their mouths were bloody and dangling

with gore, and the demons grew ever stronger, plunging into the crowd and

seeking their next meal like beasts of prey.

All hell broke loose.

"Set arrays and form groups!" Xue Zhengyong shouted. "Stay together!

Don't run off!"

But some of the cultivators were already overcome by fear, running

around in hysterics, screaming and crying as they fled in all directions. The

stench of blood grew thick in the air; the demonic fiends swept forward like

the tide, and the corpses of the dead piled high.

Nangong Si was fully engaged in combat, letting fly arrow after arrow,

when a hanged ghost, its bloodred tongue dangling from its mouth, rushed

forward and latched onto him. It raised its claw, aiming straight for his chest.

When Ye Wangxi turned and saw, the color drained instantly from his usually

composed face. He was too far away—"A-Si!"

"Gongzi!" In the nick of time, Song Qiutong sprang forward with her

sword and stabbed the hanged ghost in the arm. But she'd never killed a

person before, much less a ghastly fiend like this. Fear overtook her, and the

long sword fell from her hand and clattered to the ground.

The hanged ghost lunged at her in fury. Nangong Si traded bow for

sword as he stepped before her to block its attack. "Get away from here,

hurry!"

Song Qiutong's eyes glistened with tears. "Qiutong's life was saved by

Rufeng Sect. This one cannot possibly leave…"

Nangong Si had little experience with women. But when he saw her

delicate demeanor and the determination in her eyes, he felt as if his heart

was being squeezed. He cursed under his breath. "Ye Wangxi! Ye Wangxi—

get the hell over here! Look after her for me!"

Ye Wangxi was spattered with blood, his handsome face stained with

grime and filth. He clapped a hand around Song Qiutong's arm and said

harshly, "Go find Qin-shixiong and stick with him."

"I'm not leaving! I can still help!" she pleaded. "Young masters, I want

to stay with you."

"Ye Wangxi, make sure you protect her!"

Ye Wangxi's face darkened; upstanding gentleman that he was, he

rarely displayed such anger. "Nangong Si." The syllables of that name came

out trembling, broken. "You must have lost your mind." Then, turning his

back on the other two, he took up his sword and vaulted away, back into the

surging masses of undead.

High-level demons continued to emerge, and they cut through the

crowd like daggers slicing open the stomach of a fish and peeling off its

scales—glistening and sticky with blood, rising and falling.

It was every man for himself as the fiends surrounded the living—

these creatures wanted nothing more than to devour each and every one of

them and drag them into the Infinite Hells. Mo Ran, Xue Meng, and Shi Mei

fought back-to-back against demons on all sides, but the space they had

cleared around them shrank rapidly as the enemy pressed in. There was a wet

sound as Xue Meng sheared the arms off a fierce fiend, and its foul blood

fountained several feet into the air.

The fiends assailing them saw at once that Xue Meng was a threat, and

circled around toward Shi Mei instead. Shi Mei's hands formed a spell sign,

but his spiritual energy was being rapidly depleted, and the brightness of the

waterlight array before him flickered.

At this rate, Mo Ran knew they wouldn't be able to hold out much

longer. He made up his mind. "Shi Mei, put up a shield array. Xue Meng, get

in."

"What?" Xue Meng was immediately incensed. "You're telling me to

be a wuss?!"

"Just listen to me and get in! This isn't the time to worry what you look

like! Look around—you think we can kill this many ghosts?!"

"A-Ran," said Shi Mei, "what are you going to do?"

"Stop asking questions, just do as I said," Mo Ran softened his tone.

"It'll be all right."

The clearing around them contracted further. "Quickly," Mo Ran urged,

"there's no more time."

Shi Mei had little choice; he adjusted his hand seal to raise a layer of

blue shield array around Xue Meng and himself. When he saw the array was

complete, Mo Ran unsheathed the dart concealed in his sleeve and slashed it

across his palm, then sprinkled the array with his own blood to mark it with

his spiritual energy. His gaze dark, he called out in a low voice, "Get to

work!"

Jiangui flared bright at his words. The weapon grew in length by tens

of feet, each leaf like a sharp dagger hanging from the willow vine as it

blazed with scarlet spiritual energy. Mo Ran closed his eyes, recalling the

sight of Chu Wanning unleashing his killing technique. When he opened them

again, his eyes reflected the innumerable ghastly fiends closing in on them.

He whipped Jiangui high above his head. Sparks erupted off the vine

and rained down as Mo Ran held up his arm, his sleeve buffeted by the wind.

In that moment, his silhouette seemed to overlap with Chu Wanning's in his

mind, the two moving in perfect synchronicity.

"Wind."

A burst of force ravaged the land and stirred the very clouds above,

pulling low the sky itself.

Behind Mo Ran, Xue Meng and Shi Mei watched as an enormous light

array bloomed scarlet like a red lotus from hell and fierce gales sliced the

ground like formless blades. Jiangui whirled, a blur in Mo Ran's hand. Dust

and debris swirled into the air, and the overwhelming force pulled the fiends

into the maelstrom and ground them to mince. Chu Wanning's wide-range

killing technique, Wind. Already, Mo Ran could use it this well…

By the time the tempest calmed, the area was scoured bare.

When Mo Ran turned around, it was to the shocked expressions of Xue

Meng and Shi Mei. But he was in no mood to celebrate; he felt only that he

was far from where he needed to be. If his cultivation level now was

anywhere close to what it had once been, a fracture in the ghost realm barrier

would be a trifling matter.

"Look! Over there!" A voice suddenly shouted in the distance.

All raised their heads to see several contingents high in the sky, riding

in on swords from every horizon, each group in distinct dress and shrouded

in distinct spiritual energies.

It seemed the opening of the Heavenly Rift of the Infinite Hells had

finally spurred the sects of the upper cultivation realm to action. Their

glowing swords touched down one after another, a massive influx of

reinforcements—here were the graceful and charming personages from

Rainbell Isle, there the solemn and dignified monks of Wubei Temple, and so

on. Finally, the ten great sects had all joined the fray.

Increasingly stronger demons were crossing into this world like the

endless swarming of locusts. But with this sudden arrival of support, the

cultivators on the ground were no longer so outmatched. At the same time,

Mei Hanxue and Chu Wanning at last completed the spiritual transfer, and the

color of the barrier anchored at the cardinal directions of the town shifted

from gold to blue.

Chu Wanning left guarding the borders to Mei Hanxue and rode the

wind into the center of the battle, alighting gracefully where the fighting was

most fierce. He looked up at the rift in the sky. By now it was open wide, and

an immeasurable and terrifying evil was vaguely perceptible within.

The insane strength of this entity was practically palpable, as if it had

drunk the blood and consumed the brains of millions. The barrier needed to

be sealed now, or that great evil presently suppressed within the Infinite

Hells would break free and cross into the mortal realm.

Chu Wanning couldn't help but wonder if that was the whole point.

Was this what the person behind the scenes was after? Did he wish to unleash

some kind of great evil from hell on this world? But to what end?

"Shizun!" Shi Mei called anxiously after him.

Chu Wanning turned toward his voice.

Memories from the past life once again overlaid the present scene.

"Shizun!" Shi Mei had called for him the same way back then.

Then, too, Chu Wanning had turned toward his voice.

Shi Mei panted in the snow, covered in blood and grime, but his eyes

were firm and determined. "Shizun, are you going to mend the Heavenly

Rift?"

"Mn."

"But that… That's not just any fracture, that's a fracture into the Infinite

Hells. Shizun, how will you manage by yourself?"

Chu Wanning did not answer immediately.

"Let me help. I learned some defensive skills at Peach Blossom

Springs—I won't get in Shizun's way…"

Even now, he could almost hear that exchange that had determined life

and death so many years ago. Mo Ran's blood ran cold and his head went

numb. Without warning, he grabbed Shi Mei and pulled him behind his own

body. Then he pushed him toward Xue Meng and yelled, "Xue Ziming, keep

an eye on him! Look after him!"

Xue Meng's eyes widened. "You going somewhere, mutt?"

"I…"

The wind picked up, carrying with it the stench of blood. In the sky,

there was no flurry of snowflakes; at least some things were different from

the last lifetime.

Mo Ran's gaze landed on Shi Mei's lost and helpless figure. He felt

his heart clench but then fill with relief. This barrier could not be mended by

Chu Wanning alone. But save for his three disciples, no one else was

sufficiently familiar with his spiritual cultivation to work together with him

in rapport. One of them had to go.

The wind rushed fiercely through the battlefield, sweeping across

thousands of miles of desperate slaughter. Mo Ran braced himself, then

pulled Shi Mei into his arms. It was the first time he had ever embraced him

like this so openly and directly. He held him for a breath, and then abruptly

shoved him away.

Shi Mei. This time, I'm afraid the one who dies will have to be me.

"I'll help Shizun seal the barrier," Mo Ran declared in a tone that

brooked no argument. He narrowed his eyes, directing another deep,

meaningful gaze at Shi Mei.

Suddenly, he didn't care what others might think, didn't care that Xue

Meng was right there, didn't care that he might be rejected. He had waited

two lifetimes, loved for two lifetimes, and now he was leaving, possibly

never to return. Standing in the ferocious wind, he wanted to say a few final

words to his beloved.

"Shi Mei, actually, I…" But as he opened his mouth to speak, his

words were drowned out by the howls of vicious fiends. That fleeting

impulse, boiling hot as lava, grew cold in that space of a moment. In the end,

it fizzled out.

"A-Ran, did you want to say something?"

A reflection from his past life flitted across Mo Ran's eyes: he saw

Shi Mei's gentle smile from behind that half-raised curtain. How cruel it had

been. It had stayed with him all his life, even until death. It was everywhere

he looked.

Mo Ran grinned, the rims of his eyes a little red. "Never mind, good

things can't be said twice."

Shi Mei said, "You…"

"I'm off to go help Shizun. When I come back…if I still feel like

telling you…" His dimples were deep, his gaze filled with love. "I'll tell you

then." With that, he turned and sped toward Chu Wanning.

Shi Mei wouldn't die this time. Not in front of him, at least. Mo Ran

suddenly felt that the sky was more boundless and the ground more vast. He

imagined that the figure before him, white robes billowing, would be the end

point of this reborn life of his.

His shizun, who held the world in his heart.

As Shi Mei lay dying, for the sake of completing the repair of the

barrier, for the sake of purging the rampaging fiends, Chu Wanning had

ruthlessly chosen to turn his back on him. This time, the one to mend the

barrier with Chu Wanning would be Mo Ran. Chu Wanning despised him so

much, disliked him so much; there was no way he'd cast aside his esteemed

reputation as the Beidou Immortal to spare a thought for the life or death of

his insignificant self.

"Shizun." Mo Ran came to a stop in front of him, Jiangui glowing in

his hand. "This barrier is hard to repair. Let me help."

The situation was dire; Chu Wanning shot him a wordless glance: tacit

assent. He leapt up to stand at the highest point of the Chen Manor, Mo Ran

following at his heels. "Set the Discernment Barrier," Chu Wanning said.

Mo Ran moved in accord with him, following his instructions. One

turned to the left and one to the right; the tips of their fingers glowed with the

seal of the Discernment Barrier as they lifted their hands to the air in concert.

"Invoke!"

Spiritual energy streamed from their bodies at the invocation. The pair

worked as one, each holding down a vital grounding point of the array, and

used their surging power to form a scarlet-gold barrier.

As the barrier expanded outward, any demonic fiend it touched

shrieked as if burned and fled back into the eye of the ghost realm. The

barrier grew clearer and brighter by the second, and below their feet rose a

pair of coiled dragon platforms composed of spiritual energy, which lifted

the two high into the skies above the town.

Before the glaring gold and scarlet light of the barrier, the ghost eye

gradually began to close. Yet at the same time, the resentful spirits within the

rift grew more frantic, refusing to yield. With each inch of closure, the

resentful energy spilling from the fissure intensified, and by the time the edge

of the barrier was mere miles from the rift, the corruption emanating from its

depths was almost a physical thing.

Mo Ran's reborn body felt as if a heavy weight had settled over his

shoulders, like an immense rock weighing a thousand tons pressed against his

chest. He struggled to breathe. Across from him, Chu Wanning's spiritual

energy was strong and steady, streaming into the barrier without cease.

One inch, another. The gales whipping around them were thick with

corruption, intensifying and converging on their position. Mo Ran felt as if

numberless daggers were digging into his flesh and bones.

"Shizun…" As his consciousness began to fade, memories from the

past again flitted before his eyes:

He saw Shi Mei and Chu Wanning working together to repair the

barrier. It was mere seconds before the worlds of yin and yang would be

separated once more. The vicious ghosts, soon to again be deprived of yang

energy, saw that Shi Mei's side was much weaker; they clustered together

and charged toward Shi Mei as one. In an instant, Shi Mei, who had been

doing his utmost to maintain the balance of the barrier, was pierced through.

Now this scene played out again, almost move for move. Only this

time, the one whose heart was run through by a thousand ghosts was Mo Ran.

A cascade of demonic fiends broke through the heavy cloud cover and

punched through Mo Ran's chest in a flash. Red swam before Mo Ran's eyes.

It took him a moment to register that it was his own blood bursting from his

chest.

Drowning in the suffocating stream, he strained to turn toward Chu

Wanning, only to see the man's pristine white robes and coldly impassive

face turned away, not even sparing him half a glance.

Resentment flooded his chest. It settled into deep hatred.

Mo Ran fell from the coiled dragon platform, blood seeping from the

corners of his lips, chest dyed a deep crimson. The fall took only a moment,

but it felt like an eternity, like a drowning person sinking slowly to the

bottom of the sea, never again to hear the soft whispers of the living world.

Chu Wanning hadn't lifted single finger on his behalf. He hadn't tried

to stop the attack. He couldn't even be bothered to look.

As Mo Ran fell, his scarlet spiritual energy dissipated. And just as in

the previous lifetime, Chu Wanning chose to pour the remainder of his power

into the portion of the barrier that Mo Ran wasn't able to mend, and, by dint

of his strength alone, forced the barrier shut with a thunderous bang.

The fiends left on this side of the gate, cut off from the yin energy of

the ghost realm, fell immediately into a mad rampage against the cultivators.

They mowed through innumerous living souls in mere moments and utterly

annihilated the formations of several sects.

Chu Wanning descended. When Mo Ran fell, a layer of light had

materialized beneath the coiled dragon pillar to cushion his fall. But his chest

had been pierced straight through, and blood pooled on the ground beneath

him, just as Shi Mei's had back then. Chu Wanning beat back the fiends that

rushed toward Mo Ran and, with a backhanded wave, dropped a protective

barrier around him.

"Shizun…" Mo Ran, behind him, murmured quietly. "Are you

leaving…" He coughed up blood, but a grin spread across his face. "Are you

leaving again?"

Outside the flowing golden barrier, that person continued to stand with

his back to him. Mo Ran opened his mouth, but his throat was filled with the

taste of iron. "Chu Wanning, are you made of wood? Do you even know what

it's like to feel sad, to be selfish? Do you… Chu Wanning… Chu Wanning…"

Mo Ran's vision blurred. He was covered in wounds from the battle.

Blood streamed from a cut on his forehead and flowed into his eyes, and as

he threw his head back and laughed wildly into the skies above, laughed as if

he had gone mad, bloodied tears slid down his face. His voice broke on a

sob. "Chu Wanning, turn around! Look at me…are you really going to

leave…"

Won't you look at me one last time. I'm dying. Back then, when it

was Shi Mei, you at least spared him a glance.

You… Do you truly…dislike me this much? Look down on me this

much? Why else would you refuse to look at me, just one last time? Why

won't you turn around?

"Shizun…" His eyes brimmed with blood and tears. The last thing he

saw through the golden barrier was the white-robed back of that lone figure

as he strode away.

To go suppress demons.

In the end, it turned out that in that man's heart, there was no one less

important than Mo Weiyu.