Chapter 87: Dragon Girl Arc (End)

Mei Qujun smiled faintly without denying it.

Fu Wuxuan suddenly said, “Shen Le, one of the seven S-Rank Oracles, never possessed power as great as yours.”

“Shen Le?” Mei Qujun pondered for a moment before recalling, “I never claimed to be him.”

Fu Wuxuan replied, “But from what we can see, you are the leader of Strategy God Heavens.”

Mei Qujun didn’t mind explaining the misunderstanding. “The previous leader of Strategy God Heavens was indeed codenamed Shen Le—the very person you knew. But he couldn’t withstand the ‘gift’ of the Dragon Girl’s eyes and ultimately suffered a backlash that led to Weirdification.”

Fu Wuxuan pieced it together from his words. “So you seized control of Strategy God Heavens in the chaos.”

Though he said this, Mei Qujun didn’t appear to be someone who craved power.

Yun Xueqing gazed at Mei Qujun, his emotions complex. “Fu Mi’s eyes.”

Mei Qujun said indifferently, “Though the outside world rumored that Fu Mi was my disciple, the truth is that I transplanted the Dragon Girl’s eye—left behind by Shen Le—into the child and taught him some divination techniques. That’s why I paid him extra attention.”

Mei Qujun looked at him with satisfaction, nodding as if filled with emotion. “My true personal disciple has always been only you.”

Fu Wuxuan didn’t want to hear such words, fearing it would hurt Yun Xueqing. His expression darkened as he interrupted, “Why did you help us kill the Dragon Girl?”

Strategy God Heavens walked the line between the Weird and humanity, blurring the boundaries of good and evil. They consorted with the Weird and had caused many bizarre incidents, so they should have relished chaos.

Yet this leader of Strategy God Heavens had helped them slay the S-Rank Weird, the Dragon Girl. It was truly strange.

In response to Fu Wuxuan’s doubt, Mei Qujun laughed. “As I said, everything Strategy God Heavens does is for two words—world salvation.”

His gaze fell on Fu Wuxuan before slowly shifting to Yun Xueqing’s face. “The Dragon Girl brought calamity and slaughtered an entire city’s population. Her crime warranted death. Killing her was just and reasonable.”

Fu Wuxuan’s face flickered with momentary confusion. “If our goals are the same, then why did you use such extreme methods!”

Transforming people into monsters, ordering subordinates like Fu Mi to seal Oracles in Weird Domains to slaughter each other—none of it seemed like something a normal person would do.

Mei Qujun looked at him, his gaze profound and silent. He merely waved his sleeve casually, and the domain shattered.

They returned to Strategy God Heavens. Outside the room stretched a pitch-black night sky, while inside, lights blazed brightly. Mei Qujun sat on the Pear Blossom Chair, cradling a cup of hot tea in his hands.

He sipped from the cup, his tone gentle and warm. “In the future I foresaw, the Great Dao collapsed, and humanity perished. Only this method allows humanity to survive.”

Survival of the fittest—this was the law of nature.

With the Weird invading, they were superior in every sense. If humans couldn’t draw power from them, extinction was inevitable.

Mei Qujun’s words were simple and straightforward, the reasoning plain, yet Fu Wuxuan couldn’t accept it.

“So you captured so many Oracles and ordinary people to experiment on them?”

Fu Wuxuan frowned, thinking of Wu Xue.

Though their relationship had been strained during that time, he had vaguely learned from her about the strange experiments Fu Wuxuan was conducting.

The success rate was abysmally low—perhaps one in a hundred. Every day, over a hundred people turned into horrific monsters and were cruelly killed.

In the dead of night, Fu Wuxuan often regretted not protecting Wu Xue back then. He felt lingering fear, terrified that if she hadn’t been lucky, she too would have become one of those mindless, dignity-stripped monsters feared by all—the 99% who were slain.

“Experiments require sacrifice,” Mei Qujun said, his tone heavy with sorrow, almost compassionate. “The sacrifices of today are worth it for tomorrow.”

He turned to Yun Xueqing. “You should understand your master’s intentions… Do you know why your wounds healed so quickly?”

Yun Xueqing didn’t understand why he brought this up so suddenly, but then he heard Mei Qujun say faintly, “The remnant soul of the Six-Armed Bodhisattva lingering in your Dantian.”

Yun Xueqing suddenly remembered. In Thicket Village, the Six-Armed Bodhisattva’s remnant soul had hidden in his Dantian. He had vaguely worried it might cause trouble, but after so long, nothing had happened.

Mei Qujun smiled faintly. “The reason is simple. Your Spiritual Power refined and absorbed the Six-Armed Bodhisattva’s remnant soul, converting it into energy to repair your injuries.”

“All things mutually generate and restrain,” Mei Qujun said, his expression profound and inscrutable. “Even the Weird share similarities with humans in some ways. The matter of the Six-Armed Bodhisattva’s remnant soul indirectly proves that my idea is feasible.”

Yun Xueqing felt a surge of absurdity. Connecting the dots—Mei Qujun taking his Natal Sword, placing him in that mountain cave, his awakening a millennium later only to encounter his subordinate San Zhi outside, who then conveniently led him to Thicket Village…

A single thread linked it all. Yun Xueqing couldn’t keep his emotions in check and asked, “Everything, including the very beginning in Thicket Village, was orchestrated by you from behind the scenes?”

Mei Qujun neither confirmed nor denied it, merely looking at him with satisfaction. “The path to world salvation I encountered involves your participation.”

Yun Xueqing closed his eyes and fell silent, his mind digesting everything that had just happened.

Fu Wuxuan listened to Mei Qujun’s words and stared at him as if enchanted, a moment of confusion crossing his face. “If humans become those kinds of monsters just to survive… is there even a point in living?”

Mei Qujun looked at him with a half-smile. “Aren’t you living just fine right now?”

A Dragon Girl Bone had been transplanted into his body as well.

Fu Wuxuan’s resolve didn’t waver at those words. He merely gave a bitter laugh. “So I’ve become a monster.”

He found his two-year-old self laughable—clinging to romantic heroism, arrogantly believing that sacrificing himself would save everyone else.

But even after transplanting a segment of Dragon Girl Bone, he ultimately realized he could accomplish nothing.

Recalling the past, Fu Wuxuan suddenly fell speechless. He lowered his head dejectedly, strands of hair falling over his forehead to veil his eyes and hide his expression.

Mei Qujun’s tone remained indifferent. “Without growing stronger, you can’t do anything.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but its impact was like plum blossoms blooming silently on a winter night, their fragrance subtly influencing everyone present.

Yun Xueqing suppressed his discomfort, pushing Mei Qujun’s words from his mind. Noticing Fu Wuxuan’s state, he warned, “He’s using a Brahman technique. It affects the mind—don’t listen.”

Seeing no reaction, he poked the exposed skin on Fu Wuxuan’s hand with a finger.

He was about to say more when Fu Wuxuan suddenly lifted his head. “I can’t stand it. I’m not some hot-blooded shonen protagonist who gets struck down, comforted, and then rises with renewed vigor to fight.”

“Such a clichéd plot? No thanks.” He suddenly laughed, his tone returning to its usual carefree lilt. He gave Yun Xueqing a reassuring glance.

His face bore an easy smile, as if that alone made him invincible and inscrutable.

But while his expression was relaxed, his eyes were cold and emotionless. When they met Mei Qujun’s, they gleamed like ice-coated steel. “I can’t win you in grand philosophies, but I know one thing.”

“What makes us human is…”

Fu Wuxuan’s face was expressionless as he enunciated each word. “Humanity.”

“Someone like you, stripped of humanity, who wants to turn people into monsters—you’ll never understand.”

Mei Qujun listened to his outburst, a faint smile still on his face. But upon closer inspection, his grip on the teacup had tightened.

“Humans must not repeat past mistakes,” Fu Wuxuan pressed on. “I once made that error and ended up like this. How could I let others suffer the same?”

“Obstinate and unteachable,” Mei Qujun shook his head, as if regarding an incorrigible fool. “If you were like your friend, I’d face fewer obstacles.”

Fu Wuxuan jerked his head up. “What did you say!”

“When you first came to me, it was to learn about that High Priest, wasn’t it?” Mei Qujun said calmly. “You probably already guessed—he was involved in my…”

Before he finished, Fu Wuxuan interrupted him. “Impossible! He would never do something like that!”

“Nothing is impossible,” Mei Qujun replied, his emotions steady as he smiled. “Once he realized salvation was hopeless, cooperating with me was his only choice.”

Seeing Fu Wuxuan’s unstable state, Yun Xueqing pressed down on his shoulder, signaling him not to be led by the nose, while pressing, “You stitched Weird into Leng Xian’s body?”

Mei Qujun shook his head with a faint smile. “Not quite. The failure rate of fusing humans and Weird is too high, so I needed a new approach… Coincidentally, that rumored High Priest who could never fall to Weirdification delivered himself to me, granting new inspiration.”

Yun Xueqing frowned, reluctant to hear more. “What did you take him for?”

“To achieve great things, one must not be bound by trifles,” Mei Qujun laughed. “That compassionate savior didn’t mind me experimenting on him.”

He slowly outlined his plan. “The high failure rate of human-Weird fusion stems from human will being unable to overcome Weird power. But if there’s a force that can suppress—or control—the Weird’s power, all difficulties vanish.”

“You know the Weird have no leader. But if I could create one to command them, my experiments would succeed, giving humanity a chance at perpetuity.”

Hearing this, Yun Xueqing suddenly recalled what Li Yulin had said about the Lord of the Weird.

Creating a sovereign to control the Weird sounded exactly like forging the legendary Lord of the Weird—the true master of all Weird.

Yun Xueqing frowned but said nothing.

Mei Qujun elaborated. “But those not of our kind surely harbor different hearts. Even if I created a Weird leader, how could I ensure it obeyed humans and turned the Weird into humanity’s vassals?”

Fu Wuxuan said coldly, “The created Weird leader’s core is human.”

“Exactly,” Mei Qujun gave him an appreciative look. “But finding such a candidate is difficult: unyielding will, immunity to Weirdification, a spirit of self-sacrifice for salvation…”

Fu Wuxuan couldn’t bear to listen further. In a flash of insight, he understood everything. “Shut your mouth!”

Mei Qujun still smiled faintly, finally adding, “After killing the Dragon Girl, I preserved her soul and fused it into Leng Xian’s.”

He had thought it foolproof, but evidently, it had failed.

This explained why Leng Xian, with his resistance to Weirdification, had ultimately succumbed.

An ordinary Oracle implanting a small Weird remnant would degenerate from excessive Pollution Value, let alone implanting an entire S-Rank Weird soul?

Leng Xian had overestimated himself and failed to resist the Dragon Girl’s soul, which seized his body.

Fu Wuxuan had encountered the Weirdified Leng Xian—or rather, the Dragon Girl possessing his body—and ultimately killed her.

The Dragon Girl’s soul had long entangled with Leng Xian’s. Fu Wuxuan destroyed both souls together.

Once the Dragon Girl’s soul dissipated, Leng Xian’s innate purification purged the lingering Weird Power from his body.

Thus, Leng Xian died from Weirdification, yet his corpse was pristine and human-like, leading the Divine Temple to misunderstand and pursue him.

It was all a twist of fate.

Mei Qujun looked regretful. “The High Priest was indeed compassionate, but alas, he was not the heaven-chosen savior.”

Fu Wuxuan glared at him in fury. “You deserve to die!”

Yun Xueqing shook his head as well. “Master, stop going further down the wrong path.”

“Xueqing,” Mei Qujun sighed deeply, sorrow in his eyes, mingled with the melancholy of being misunderstood. “If you don’t understand, there’s nothing more to say.”

With a wave of his sleeve, a gust of wind swept the two out the door, which slammed shut behind them.

Fu Wuxuan took a long breath. “I will definitely kill him.”

Yun Xueqing knew anger over his friend’s death fueled him, but at that moment, he had no comfort to offer.

After all, he too struggled to accept that his master, who had raised him for decades, was treading a path of self-destruction.

After a long silence, Yun Xueqing sighed, his emotions tangled. “Master took the wrong path… So did your friend.”

Fu Wuxuan neither confirmed nor denied it. Moments later, he said, “Venting won’t solve any problems. We need to figure out a way to stop him.”

He pondered briefly, then tilted his head and said gravely to Yun Xueqing, “Do you remember Zhongse, the one who entered the domain with us?”