Chapter 74: Divine Temple Arc (Part 3)

Yun Xueqing listened intently.

Because they lay on the same bed, covered by the same quilt, and were so close, Yun Xueqing could feel the rise and fall of the other’s chest, as well as the shift in his emotions.

Fu Wuxuan’s tone suddenly grew cold, laced with a faint sadness.

Yun Xueqing was certain: “It wasn’t you who killed that revered High Priest everyone loved.”

Fu Wuxuan confirmed his guess: “There were indeed some hidden circumstances. The reason I killed Leng Xian back then was because…”

He suddenly paused, as if hesitating whether to reveal this secret, or finding it hard to voice, caught in indecision for a moment.

Yun Xueqing said nothing, nor did he guide with words. He simply waited silently for Fu Wuxuan to decide for himself.

Fu Wuxuan paused for a beat before finally saying, “Because Leng Xian had undergone Weirdification and become a fully mindless Weird.”

Yun Xueqing was somewhat puzzled.

Weirdification was a tragic inevitability for humans, and killing a fully Weirdified Oracle was only natural.

If that were the case, Fu Wuxuan could have simply stated the reason without hiding the truth, which had provoked the Divine Temple’s pursuit.

Though doubts swirled in Yun Xueqing’s mind, he knew Fu Wuxuan had his reasons, so he remained silent and listened as the other continued his explanation.

Fu Wuxuan went on, “The Divine Temple organization wasn’t founded by Leng Xian. He was an inheritor. At the time, there were several candidates who could inherit the Divine Temple, including even two S-Rank Ability Users—one was me, and the other was the Divine Temple’s current Saintess, Chen Zhen.”

“But Leng Xian was only an A-Rank Ability User, yet he defeated both me and Chen Zhen to inherit the Divine Temple. It wasn’t just because of his noble character; there was a most crucial reason—he possessed an extremely special constitution.”

Yun Xueqing had been half-lidded before, but now his eyes snapped fully open. Moonlight spilled in, casting a hazy, soft glow over his clear, cold gaze. “What?”

“Leng Xian had an absolutely pure heart. Though he was an Oracle, his mental world was immune to Weird infection. In other words, even if he overused Spirit Energy, he wouldn’t Weirdify from excessive load.”

Fu Wuxuan, fearing the other might not understand, tried to explain more simply: “His role was like the protagonist in a post-apocalyptic zombie novel—the antibody carrier with the protagonist halo, forever immune to infection.”

Yun Xueqing, who had never read zombie novels, fell silent for a moment before condensing Fu Wuxuan’s words: “He was special.”

Fu Wuxuan nodded, even though the other couldn’t see him in the darkness: “The Divine Temple invented many special Oracles, but because they consumed too much energy, they were all forbidden for ordinary people. Even I couldn’t use some of them, but Leng Xian had no such worries. He could use any forbidden techniques at will. Back in the Divine Temple, I was hailed as the Savior Lord, but in truth, he was the real Savior Lord.”

Fu Wuxuan spoke of Leng Xian’s freedom, yet his tone held not a trace of envy.

Yun Xueqing caught another layer of meaning: “Those forbidden techniques were for saving people.”

The reason Leng Xian was so beloved and elevated to the altar was likely because he used those forbidden techniques to save lives.

To use Oracles without restriction was both freedom and responsibility.

Fu Wuxuan fell silent for a moment before saying something unrelated: “He lived in great pain.”

The air suddenly grew quiet. No one spoke.

After a long time—uncertain how long—just as Fu Wuxuan thought it was all over, Yun Xueqing unexpectedly followed up: “You’re the same now.”

Leng Xian had lived in pain, and after his death, someone had inherited that pain.

Fu Wuxuan closed his eyes, his tone heavy: “That’s all for today’s story. Good night.”

Yun Xueqing didn’t want him dwelling on it, so he deliberately changed the subject: “You’ve said so much, but you still haven’t told me your next plan.”

He had clearly asked about Fu Wuxuan’s plan, yet the other had told him a story—one with a beginning but no end, skipping the key points.

But Yun Xueqing could roughly guess that Fu Wuxuan’s next actions were tied to the Divine Temple.

Fu Wuxuan quickly adjusted his mood, his voice returning to its usual carefree lilt as he buried half his head in the quilt: “Stories are more fun told a little each day. Right now, we only do one thing: sleep.”

Seeing the other recover, Yun Xueqing stopped pressing and mimicked him: “Alright, good night.”

Even with his head buried in the quilt, Fu Wuxuan’s surprised voice came through clearly: “Brother, you’ve finally traveled back from ancient times? Hearing such a polite, modern word from you feels so strange.”

Yun Xueqing: “…”

During the Weird Domain at Dragoncry Middle School, he had inherited the original host’s memories, so he had picked up quite a few modern terms. He knew their general meanings and even used them occasionally, though not often.

Fu Wuxuan pointing it out so deliberately made him feel oddly embarrassed.

Yun Xueqing ignored him and closed his eyes to sleep.

Fu Wuxuan heard the other’s even breathing, tugged at the corner of his mouth.

With so much weighing on his heart, sharing with someone today had lightened the pressure considerably. Unknowingly, he drifted off to sleep following that steady rhythm.

The next day, Fu Wuxuan set off with Yun Xueqing.

On the road, Yun Xueqing asked: “Where are we going?”

Fu Wuxuan smiled and honestly explained the reason he’d been hunted these past few days: “Actually, I took something from the Divine Temple.”

Yun Xueqing’s expression stiffened, revealing an “as expected” look. “No wonder the pursuers have been more numerous these past few days.”

Just today alone, they had dealt with three groups.

Yun Xueqing: “What did you take from the Divine Temple?”

Everyone was curious about the treasure, but Fu Wuxuan confessed candidly: “Nothing much, just two gold bars from Leng Yin. You know, even in the apocalypse, this stuff is hard currency.”

Yun Xueqing: “…”

He asked with some speechlessness: “And?”

He didn’t believe Leng Yin would chase him across a thousand miles for two gold bars.

Fu Wuxuan’s expression grew inscrutable. “I also took… Leng Xian’s diary.”

Yun Xueqing was somewhat surprised: “Diary?”

Fu Wuxuan readily corrected himself: “That’s not quite right. Though Leng Xian was upright, he wasn’t the type to idly record daily trivialities.”

He coughed once and explained seriously: “More accurately, it’s a top-secret Archives. He would note major events in it, so that if something happened to him later, it could serve as a warning to others.”

A faint sorrow rarely veiled his handsome features: “Leng Xian always consulted me on major decisions. I know seven or eight parts of the hidden truth behind his Weirdification back then, but the most crucial point eludes me. I think Leng Xian recorded it in this Archives.”

Yun Xueqing followed up naturally: “Which point?”

At his question, the casual, roguish look on Fu Wuxuan’s face vanished in an instant. His affectionate eyes turned icy, sharp as a blade.

Yun Xueqing heard him say: “The one truth that Leng Xian sacrificed himself to uncover, even at the cost of Weirdification.”

Though Yun Xueqing still only half-understood the matter, seeing the other’s rare solemn coldness told him it was of utmost importance.

He asked: “So now we’re going to retrieve the Archives?”

The cold solemnity on Fu Wuxuan’s face melted away like ice in an instant. He nodded: “Smart.”

He had been hunted all along the way, making it too dangerous to carry the archive on him, so he had found an opportunity to entrust it to someone reliable.

Yun Xueqing pondered who this trustworthy person might be as they headed toward the center and entered the Spiritual Energy Special Control Bureau, where they encountered Wu Xue.

Wu Xue, who had once pursued them, merely nodded coolly at them this time instead of cuffing them.

Though Wu Xue had been within Yun Xueqing’s guesses, he hadn’t expected Fu Wuxuan to truly hand the archive to her.

After all, they had once been enemies.

Wu Xue said nothing to them, instead leading them toward the bureau’s restricted area.

The restricted area was indeed secure. Along the way, they endured over a dozen pat-downs, passed through more than a dozen doors, and watched as Wu Xue entered over ten different passwords at electronic gates before they finally entered.

As Yun Xueqing wondered where Wu Xue had stashed the archive, she led them into a conference room.

The conference table was spotless, save for a top-secret Archives sealed in cowhide paper placed squarely in the center.

The vast conference room held no extras—only one person seated high in a chair, a figure Yun Xueqing absolutely hadn’t anticipated.

Fu Wuxuan, however, seemed to have expected it and greeted with a smile: “Bureau Chief Tu He, long time no see.”