Chapter 76: I Want a Home

Digging graves at Fragrant Ze Mountain was one thing, but digging up the clan leader’s grave!

Wenren Sheng clenched his teeth tightly and immediately drew the Heavenly Heart from his waist. His toes pushed off the ground, propelling him toward that person.

“Stop right there!”

The mountain forest was overgrown with tangled branches. Wenren Sheng slashed out two bursts of sword qi, chopping down a large swath with a crash.

A fog of dust rose instantly in the mountain forest. The huge commotion drew the grave-digger’s attention. His movements paused, and just as he turned to look, the cool edge of Heavenly Heart pressed against his neck.

Wenren Sheng glared at him furiously and snapped, “Who told you to touch this place?!”

Killing intent filled his eyes. The man instantly went weak in the legs and collapsed to the ground, staring at Wenren Sheng in horror.

“I-I-I…”

“Killing is just a flick of the wrist. Speak clearly, and you might have a slim chance at survival.”

Before the grave-digger could finish his “I,” a voice dropped from overhead, carrying a chilling pressure that made one’s scalp tingle.

He looked up to see He Mu bending a bamboo stalk underfoot, standing sword on back, gazing down at him from above.

He immediately recognized that face.

“M-M-Mountain God?!”

“Oh?” He Mu raised a brow. “You recognize me. You’re from Return to One Sword Sect?”

He rarely showed his face at Fragrant Ze Mountain. The only time a large group had recognized him was when he’d gone to Return to One Sword Sect to demand justice for Wenren Sheng.

“You again!”

Wenren Sheng glanced at the nearby ceremonial mound that had nearly been dug to pieces. Heartache and fury surged through him. His eyes reddened as he shouted,

“You people… how long are you going to keep hounding us? Even the dead aren’t safe from you now?!”

Seeing Wenren Sheng trembling with rage, He Mu leaped down from the bamboo tip and landed beside him, patting his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Shengsheng,” He Mu soothed. “If you’re that angry, I’ll kill him for you.”

Wenren Sheng took two deep breaths, tears nearly spilling from his eyes.

They’d caught him this time by coincidence, but what about before? Had the clan leader’s grave been dug up like this in the two years he’d been away from Fragrant Ze Mountain? During the days he wasn’t here, did the clan leader… not even have the right to rest in peace?

Wenren Sheng wiped the corners of his eyes and glared viciously at the man before tossing down his sword and rushing hurriedly to the ceremonial mound.

“Clan leader… don’t be scared. I’ll chase him away right now.”

He crouched down and cupped some soil, trying to fill the dug-up hole.

Meanwhile, the culprit crawled a couple of steps on the ground. Seeing Wenren Sheng no longer paying attention to him, he struggled to his feet to flee.

But as he drew back his legs, a sharp wind whistled past his ear. Suddenly, excruciating pain erupted in his thigh.

With a squelch, He Mu gripped the hilt of Color Kill and thrust it straight through the man’s thigh, pinning him viciously to the ground.

“Argh!!”

The man clutched his leg and screamed in agony.

“You think I’ll let you go?” He Mu lifted his boot and ground it down on the man’s head. “What’s your name? Where are you from?”

Cold sweat beaded on the man’s forehead. He didn’t answer right away and curled up on the ground, moaning in pain.

Seeing this, He Mu showed no mercy. He twisted the hilt slightly, turning Color Kill an angle inside the man’s flesh.

“Urgh… I-I’ll talk! I’ll talk, I’ll talk!”

The man cried out hoarsely,

“I-I’m… I’m Chen Shou. I used to be… a disciple of Sword Sect…”

As he spoke, he struggled to crawl toward Wenren Sheng, trying to grab his clothes.

“We’ve met before. You’re Wenren Sheng, right? I remember you. You’re a little wolf demon. Can you plead with the Mountain God… argh! It hurts so much. Beg him to let me go. I’ll tell you everything!”

Wenren Sheng ignored him and smeared the dirt in his hand onto the hole.

But as soon as his hand touched it, a sharp chill pierced him. Wenren Sheng’s palm stung, and he instinctively pulled back.

“Hiss…”

Looking down, he saw a bloody gash across his palm.

Hearing Wenren Sheng’s muffled grunt, He Mu’s expression shifted. He strode forward and grabbed Wenren Sheng’s wrist.

“How did this happen?” He Mu frowned, looking toward the spot where Wenren Sheng had been filling the dirt.

Something seemed buried under the loosened soil, a sharp golden corner peeking out, stained with a smear of ochre red—Wenren Sheng’s blood.

“It’s… some jewelry…”

Chen Shou gasped for breath nearby and explained in a trembling voice,

“I buried it myself in secret… I hoped she could rest in peace under the Yellow Springs and not come seeking our lives anymore…”

Seeking lives?

A flicker of confusion crossed Wenren Sheng’s face. He looked at Chen Shou, who was covered in blood and seemed to be in extreme agony.

Color Kill’s blade had tiny serrations, making cuts excruciatingly painful. Chen Shou was probably wishing he were dead, yet still conscious—that was impressive.

“Explain clearly,” Wenren Sheng said coldly. “What exactly is going on?”

Chen Shou stared at the ceremonial mound, his voice shaking violently. “B-Before, you destroyed my junior brother Chen Lian’s soul, but you didn’t kill me. You spared my life…”

Only then did Wenren Sheng fully recall who this man was.

The day before his tenth birthday, he’d smashed the jar holding Chen Lian’s soul at Return to One Sword Sect. The cultivator guarding that soul fragment that day was this very person.

He Mu pulled Wenren Sheng into his arms and wiped the blood from his hands.

“Keep talking.”

“Without junior brother Chen Lian’s soul, I wandered alone in Xiangzhou City. L-Later years, I ran into a few senior brothers who were also homeless. We pooled together to open a jewelry shop and lived peacefully for a few years, until you left Fragrant Ze Mountain.”

At this point, Chen Shou seemed to forget the mortal pain in his leg. His face paled, as if recalling something terrifying.

“I thought with you gone, it was all over. But… but for some reason, starting from the day you left Fragrant Ze Mountain, my senior brothers and I began falling ill and dying one after another. Nightmares plagued us constantly!”

He breathed rapidly, eyes unfocused, staring at the ground in abject terror.

“I heard they often dreamed at night of a rabbit spirit gnawing at their flesh, saying… ‘Those who bully Wenren Sheng must pay the price’! Every night, it gnawed them. Once all their flesh was eaten clean, it-it would turn to their souls—this rabbit spirit won’t even spare our souls!!!”

Seeing Chen Shou stammering like he was trapped in a nightmare, Wenren Sheng couldn’t help furrowing his brow.

He hesitated. “You’re saying… the clan leader is getting revenge on you in your dreams?”

Chen Shou clawed at the ground with his fingers and wailed, “Yes, no mistake about it! All my senior brothers are dead now. Only me and one little junior brother left! He’s still young and didn’t take part in what happened back then. He’s innocent!”

Chen Shou raised his trembling hand and pointed at the jewelry buried in the mound.

Only then did Wenren Sheng notice how emaciated the man was, his robes hanging off what looked like bare bones. He was clearly in the final stages of illness.

“I’m sorry. We really know we were wrong. This is all the money we’ve earned from the shop these past years. I have nothing left on me… It’s all here. Please let me go. I won’t cultivate anymore. I quit!!”

“I’m sorry… really sorry!”

Chen Shou sobbed and sobbed until he buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking.

“Tomorrow… tomorrow I’ll go with my little junior brother to a temple, shave my head and become a monk. The rest of my life, I’ll pray to Buddha and atone, chant sutras for your clan leader. I’m sorry, Wenren Sheng. Back then, when your spirit root was cut out, it was all our fault. We were wrong. Please—”

The crying was shrill and grating, like a broken string still desperately scraping out discordant notes.

Wenren Sheng’s ears rang from it.

In the two years since he’d left, so many changes had come to his hometown. His old enemies had their families shattered one by one, gradually vanishing from the world.

His long-buried pain, frozen under ice and snow for years, had finally thawed with the spring flood.

It had all happened so suddenly that Wenren Sheng’s head spun. He staggered two steps and nearly fell, only saved by He Mu catching his back in time.

“You okay?” He Mu stroked his back, tone laced with worry. “Want to head back and rest first? We can gather herbs tomorrow.”

Wenren Sheng felt like he couldn’t move either. Clutching He Mu’s hand, his breathing grew heavier, more erratic, until he was nearly suffocating.

“Brother…” Wenren Sheng used his last bit of strength to look up at He Mu.

“Can you… carry me back? I think…”

Mid-sentence, the wetness in Wenren Sheng’s eyes suddenly dulled to gray, and he lost consciousness.

…

So cold.

Wenren Sheng’s fingers twitched slightly. Faint murmurs reached his ears.

“Just a frail little demon. What’s the loss in killing him?”

“He has no parents, no friends. Who would remember him?”

“Mountain God? Better to kneel and beg me now than worship some nobody.”

Wenren Sheng couldn’t open his eyes. He felt his entire back soaked in a pool of blood, surrounded by cloyingly sweet powder scent.

Trying to shift his body brought the clank of iron chains.

He remembered this smell clearly.

In that cramped space in Chen Lian’s room, Wenren Sheng had been chained by neck and wrists, his young body enduring the agony of having his spirit root carved out.

That was the first time he realized his teeth were sharp enough to bite through chains.

Blind, Wenren Sheng stopped struggling and simply lay flat, letting himself dissolve into the blood.

Memories flashed by like a sped-up lantern show. Wenren Sheng watched his half-grown self flee from under Chen Lian’s hands, racing all the way back to Fragrant Ze Mountain, hiding alone in the empty rabbit burrow.

The young Wenren Sheng had no power, wasn’t strong enough. He could only curl up, clutching a storybook to his chest, sobbing as he flipped page by page, reading the tales bit by bit to comfort himself.

Back then, he couldn’t even read all the characters. He only knew a bit about Fragrant Ze Mountain’s lore. Under moonlight, Wenren Sheng sniffled and slowly puzzled out the words.

He recalled the book saying Fragrant Ze Mountain was protected by the Martial God. All beings under this Martial God, upon entering the mountain’s bounds, would lose their powers and become mortals. Heavenly treasures would turn mundane.

As long as one stayed obediently on the mountain, the Martial God would forever guard this land and the homes of all demons here.

Wenren Sheng had believed that deeply.

What had he been thinking back then?

Wondering if the god in the story descended to the world, could he protect him from disasters and suffering for life?

Or wondering…

From now on, could he have a little home, a place to belong?

Wenren Sheng slept for four or five hours before waking from that long dream.

When he first opened his eyes, his lashes were crusted with tears. He lifted a hand to wipe them, but someone gently caught it.

Through the misty haze in his eyes, he saw He Mu lying beside him, staring fixedly.

“Brother.”

Wenren Sheng called out obediently and nuzzled into He Mu’s palm.

But after that motion, he clearly felt He Mu’s breathing hitch.

Wenren Sheng looked startled.

Was Brother unhappy?

…Because of him? Had he said weird things in his sleep?

Too many tears blurred Wenren Sheng’s vision; he couldn’t see He Mu’s eyes. He blinked hard to clear them.

“Brother, I’m fine,” Wenren Sheng forced a smile to reassure him. “Just a bit dizzy, so I fell asleep.”

No sooner had he spoken than a strong embrace enveloped him, warmth wrapping his whole body.

“Mmph…” Wenren Sheng hurriedly pressed against He Mu’s chest and mumbled, “Brother’s hugging too tight. I’m gonna suffocate.”

“Shengsheng,” He Mu pressed their foreheads together, voice hoarse with pain. “I…”

He choked after one word.

Too many words wanted to spill out, but none came at the tip of his tongue.

Wenren Sheng’s sleep-talk that night had been too clear. And while he’d been unconscious, He’d gotten the details of those past events from Chen Shou’s mouth. He could almost imagine what nightmares that child had endured.

He’d waited all along for Wenren Sheng to wake and tell him everything, then demand he go kill those people himself for revenge.

But there was none.

These pains were all wiped away by a layer of calm water. Wenren Sheng chose to forgive himself, refusing to be swallowed by hatred, just as he had before.

He Mu fell silent for a moment, then finally lowered his head and gently kissed away the tears at the corner of Wenren Sheng’s eyes.

“I missed you, Shengsheng,” he said softly, then leaned down to kiss Wenren Sheng’s lips again. “Tell me slowly, okay…?”

Wenren Sheng shrank into the bedding, dazedly continuing to kiss He Mu as he pondered in his mind what He Mu wanted to hear.

Was it this dream?

Or his past?

Whichever it was, for Wenren Sheng, it was like prying open his own clam shell and laying bare his innermost self to He Mu without reservation.

This required tremendous courage.

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