Chapter 115 Part 3

“To me, it was just an ordinary morning. Yuan Yuan and I were set to return to the palace the next day.”

“The weather wasn’t good—fine rain falling, the air chilly. Yuan Yuan was still sleeping. I got up to dress, but my movements were too big and woke him. He acted spoiled, asking me to hold him…”

Wei Huai listened, his heart aching unbearably. He knew Qixue loved sleeping in. Back when they were together, he’d rise early for martial training while Qixue slept until the sun was high. He rarely disturbed him—how could anyone with a heart bear to wake such a beautiful, adorable sleeping face?

Helan Ji continued, “I went to the study to discuss state affairs with the ministers when suddenly the entire palace shook violently. Bookshelves toppled, blocking the exit. Worried about Yuan Yuan, I frantically moved them aside…”

“Then the summer palace ignited with earth fire. It was raining, but the rain couldn’t extinguish the flames…”

…

Helan Ji spoke slowly. By the time he described bursting into the burning bedchamber to find Qixue, he was drenched in cold sweat.

He paused after every few sentences to gasp for breath, as if the thick black smoke still lingered, choking his throat and stealing his air.

When he reached the part about Qixue shedding bloody tears from inhaling too much earth qi, blinded and sightless, Wei Huai’s knuckles cracked from clenching so hard. His heartache for Qixue defied words.

At that moment, Wei Huai wished desperately that he could have borne this suffering in Qixue’s place. If earlier he’d resented why the dead one wasn’t Helan Ji, now he resented himself.

Why wasn’t it him suffering? Why wasn’t it him who died in the fire? A Xue was so delicate, so afraid of pain—why did he have to endure this agony? Couldn’t Wei Huai have shouldered it for him?

If there were a spell to trade one life for another, Wei Huai would use his without hesitation to bring Qixue back.

It would have been fine if he’d died—his lowly life was worthless. But so many loved A Xue—why was heaven so cruel, snatching away their most precious one?

“Haha… hahaha…”

Wei Huai suddenly laughed. Amid the desolate laughter, hot tears welled in his eyes.

He laughed at himself, because he found his life utterly ridiculous.

The first ridiculous thing: at eight years old, he’d died once.

Back then, he’d been born to a noble family, high in status, doted on endlessly at home, and childhood friends with the Ninth Prince, Helan Ji. Spoiled rotten, he’d been willful and lawless—a little demon king through and through.

One day, punished by his father for refusing to study, he’d snuck out on horseback to escape. The servants chased him frantically, but the more they pursued, the harder he whipped his mount, galloping into the wilds.

By chance, a group of bred demons had escaped and lurked in those barren hills. One burst from the woods, startling his horse. He fell into a cliffside pool and was swallowed whole by a demon in the water, dragged to the depths.

And beneath that water lurked something even more terrifying.

The man-eating demon that ate him was devoured by that thing in turn. He and the demon were chewed to bloody pulp together. He clearly felt his leg bones shatter, his guts tear—only his head remained intact.

But precisely because his head was whole, though dead, he wasn’t fully gone. Strangely, he lived on in that thing’s belly until his head could move on its own. In terror, he realized he was no longer human.

He ate it, bit by bit, starting from its stomach until nothing remained.

And he transformed completely. He regrew a body, but with its green eyes and hideous scales. He could breathe underwater now. The day he burst from its belly, he swam up from the pool bottom.

Much time had passed since his fall—nearly everyone thought him dead. Only his mother didn’t. She led servants to search the pool day and night, calling his name.

But when they finally saw him emerge, they screamed in fear. Anyone with eyes could tell the thing crawling out wasn’t human.

They brandished weapons, drove him off, threatened him, even tried to kill him. Only his mother believed it was still him. She took his hand and led him back to the marquis manor.

But he had changed. He’d become cruel, violent, even harboring a desire to eat people. Helpless, his mother locked him in the cellar for a full year, patiently teaching him back to rights before releasing him.

The shackle that locked him was a foot chain granted by Xie Shu—the very same one he had later used to lock and imprison A Xue.

He could not say what kind of demon he had become, for that thing had devoured too much and too varied fare. Undigested flesh and blood stuck to his abdominal cavity, and later he had eaten it all too, fusing the flesh and blood of over a dozen demons into something like a freakish mongrel.

From that day on, his father had despised and feared him from the bottom of his heart. Yet becoming a demon was not entirely without benefits. He had learned demonic arts and could command demons, leading demonic beast cavalry to victory in every battle. And he alone in the entire world could command that cavalry.

Over these years, he had killed countless on the battlefield and saved countless more, establishing unparalleled merits.

The people of Great Yong deeply revered him, erecting shrines in his name during his lifetime and praising him as the reincarnation of a war star or a martial god descended to earth. For a long time, he had grown arrogant and complacent, arrogantly believing himself omnipotent—until he met A Xue and first truly felt what powerlessness and defeat meant.

That was the second ridiculous thing.

He had fancied himself extraordinary, saving so many lives, yet he could not save the one he loved most. Was this not heaven’s punishment and mockery? He could not save the one person he most ought to save, the one he most wanted to save.

Wei Huai laughed and laughed until his laughter gradually turned to sobs, then to long, silent tears.

He covered his face and wept for a long time, venting his emotions, until a sudden thought struck him. He jerked his head up, his eyes gleaming with a sharp, piercing light that terrified onlookers.

He demanded harshly of the Cloud Moon Temple disciples, “I ask you—Xie Shu was clearly guarding the imperial mausoleum, divining and inspecting the earth veins day after day. Did he not foresee the earth veins’ upheaval? Did he detect no inauspicious omens at all?!”

Green light flickered in Wei Huai’s eyes, and the White Tiger leaped up from the ground, glaring menacingly at the disciples. Frightened by their savage gazes, the disciples stammered, “We… we never heard the Palace Lord mention it…”

Wei Huai said coldly, “Do you think it’s normal that Xie Shu detected nothing in advance?”

“This…” The disciples hemmed and hawed, but under Wei Huai’s terrifying pressure, they shook their heads and told the truth. “It’s not normal. The Palace Lord should have divined it ahead of time.”

“Xie… Shu… I won’t spare him!”

Extreme grief instantly transformed into extreme hatred and rage. Wei Huai nearly ground his teeth to dust as demonic patterns and scales burst through his skin, twisting as they grew, making him look utterly terrifying. “Where is he?”

The disciples shrank back. “J-Just… in the temple.”

Helan Ji spoke up. “Don’t go looking for trouble with Xie Shu. He’s refining a temporary body for Yuan Yuan. If Yuan Yuan’s soul truly returns, it will need that temporary body to reside in.”

Wei Huai spat with hatred, “I can wait—until Xie Shu finishes refining the new body. I won’t disturb him before then. But this blood debt, I must settle with him clearly!”

He summoned the White Tiger, vaulted onto its back, and departed the imperial palace at wind-like speed, streaking toward Cang Mountain like a shooting star.

In truth, under everyone’s watchful eyes, Wei Huai had not revealed his full intentions. He was not going up the mountain solely for revenge. There was indeed something fishy about the matter—Xie Shu failing to divine the earth veins’ upheaval was blatantly abnormal.

He knew Xie Shu well. Though the old man was full of flaws, worthless, pedantic, and loathsome, he would never neglect his duties on a matter concerning Great Yong and the Emperor’s safety. Moreover, A Xue had been residing in the Summer Palace—the old man could not possibly disregard A Xue’s life.

Thus, some external factor must have caused Xie Shu’s divination to fail, and that factor might be linked to A Xue’s death.

Of course, there was a slim possibility that Xie Shu had simply been negligent. If so, Wei Huai swore he would peel off Xie Shu’s dragon skin, shatter his dragon bones, and devour his flesh inch by inch.

He had to uncover the hidden truth.

A Xue had been gone for over half a month now. They had summoned his soul day and night, yet it had never appeared. Though failing to summon a soul was common enough, if some mastermind lurked behind it all, they might have collected A Xue’s soul, preventing its return.

It was this thought that propped up the near-collapsed Wei Huai. He desperately needed a reason to keep going—otherwise, he would truly go mad, sinking into despair deeper than when he had been swallowed by that demon all those years ago.

The White Tiger exhausted its demonic power to reach Cang Mountain at top speed. Arrays covered the mountain, unsuitable for demons, so Wei Huai left it to rest at the base.

These past days, the White Tiger had accompanied him without sleep or rest, more exhausted than he was. It was time for it to rest.

“Awoo…”

Before he left, the White Tiger hooked his clothing hem with its claw, its large tiger eyes full of pleading.

Wei Huai patted its head and comforted it. “I’ll let you see A Xue again—even if it’s just his soul.”

He donned a black veiled hat, concealing his well-known face, and ascended Cang Mountain alone.

Xie Shu’s Dao Field connected to Cloud Moon Temple’s paths, so to reach the Dao Field, Wei Huai had to pass through the temple first.

As he traversed the mountain path, he noticed far fewer pilgrims coming to burn incense than before. Cloud Moon Temple had once been thronged with worshippers queuing from mountaintop to foothill, but he had never seen it this desolate.