However, Shuhu changed tone: “Song and Jin formed the Maritime Alliance, allying with Jin to exterminate Liao, but soon they too will reap what they sowed. Jin Troops will head south and besiege Kaifeng. After the city falls, the Song Court will taste what Liao endured. Zhao Ji, Zhao Huan, court officials, and imperial clan will all be captured and taken to Huining, paraded like sheep as captives, suffering humiliation far worse than Liao’s by a thousandfold. Does that make you feel better?”
Xiang Xian was utterly bewildered.
Shuhu raised its eyes again and looked toward Xiang Xian: “Xiang Xian, the Great Song you serve did not truly perish after the Jingkang Incident but lingered south of the Yangtze for some time. Of course, the arrogant Wanyan Clan was also annihilated at the hands of the Tatars. The Jin imperial clan was slaughtered entirely, blood flowing like rivers, wails resounding through the nights.
“After Jin’s fall, the Tatars headed south. Song had no path left to retreat, and two hundred thousand soldiers and civilians threw themselves into the sea at Cliff Gate and perished.
“As for the ‘Yuan’ established by the Tatars, it too was ultimately destroyed at the hands of the Han People. The Golden Family was nearly hunted to extinction, but this is something you will not live to see in your lifetimes.”
Shuhu’s words seemed to come from the horizon yet also whisper in their ears. Xiao Kun and Xiang Xian felt as if struck by a blow to the head.
“How much longer until Great Song’s calamity?” Xiang Xian asked tremulously.
“Two years,” Shuhu answered calmly.
Xiang Xian still subconsciously refused to accept it, doubting the truth of Shuhu’s words.
Xiao Kun’s hopes of restoring his country had thoroughly become bubbles. That spring, the Liao Emperor had been captured at Yingzhou, nearly severing all his aspirations. Now, finally confirmed before Shuhu, he felt utter despair.
“Hasn’t your Human Race always been like this generation after generation?” Shuhu said. “Over thousands of years of time, there has been little progress. Ask away; it’s time for the second question.”
Xiang Xian could hardly remember what he wanted to say. After a long while, he finally calmed from the chaotic thoughts.
Xiao Kun made a gesture, indicating that Xiang Xian could ask.
“When will the Heavenly Demon Society revive?” Xiang Xian gathered his thoughts and asked. “I need an exact time.”
This was the question he cared about most, and also the most important dying command from his master.
“Soon,” Shuhu answered. “I cannot tell you the exact time because ‘Mu’ obtained the Demon Seed. In his hands, he also possesses a treasure that interferes with time and causality. When he realizes discrepancies in the past, he will set about altering the future.”
Xiang Xian: “???”
“I can only tell you this: Ba She lost its Demon Seed, the Black-Winged Great Peng has appeared in the world, a new ‘tree’ is about to be born, and the Heart Lamp will reappear from the Heaven-Earth Veins. What awaits you is destiny that repeats again and again.”
“Where is the Heart Lamp?!” Both heard the key phrase and asked in unison.
This was what Xiang Xian had always paid most attention to. Ever since entering the Exorcism Division, he had been searching everywhere for the Heart Lamp’s whereabouts.
“Follow the guidance of causality,” Shuhu said calmly. “You will find it soon.”
Xiang Xian said to Xiao Kun, “A few years ago, I searched for Ba She’s corpse but found nothing in the Wushan Mountains. Wait, who is this ‘Mu’?”
“Mu is an immortal sleeper in time. He hides in the Heavenly Demon Palace, collecting Baleful Qi to nurture a new Heavenly Demon,” Shuhu answered. “This is all I can tell you. Soon, people from Kunlun will reveal Mu’s true face to you. You are both fated individuals embroiled in this; no one can escape.”
Xiao Kun’s gaze toward Xiang Xian no longer held the previous wariness. At this moment, both had confirmed each other’s stance as dutiful exorcists.
“What about an approximate date? Or… rephrase it: How long until the Demon Seed in Mu’s hands fully hatches?” Xiao Kun said gravely.
“At least two more years,” Shuhu’s voice remained calm. “The Demon Seed is not in his hands; it is within his body.”
Xiao Kun gradually sobered as well, looking at Xiang Xian.
Xiang Xian still had more to ask, but he had to think first. Everything was too chaotic. The Heaven’s Mandate Box of Buddha Palace Temple was not the Imperial Jade Seal but a head claiming to be the God of Time, which had told him the futures of Song and Jin. Anyone in this moment would be distraught, their first thought to reject belief.
“You’re talking nonsense,” Xiang Xian said. He hadn’t fully digested his first question; asking about the Heavenly Demon was half verification, half curiosity. Now, with crucial information crashing upon him, his breathing quickened. “Great Song is so prosperous; how could it… how could it…”
“A towering building collapses in an instant,” Shuhu said coldly. “In the fourteenth year of Tianbao, Great Tang reveled in song and dance—who knew the An-Shi Rebellion was coming?”
Xiang Xian was speechless.
Shuhu then said pityingly, “As the Sword Holder, why is your vision so narrow? Ask your third question.”
Xiang Xian only wanted to find a place to sit alone and sort his thoughts, but Xiao Kun had already calmed and raised his brow at Xiang Xian, meaning: If you won’t ask, I will?
Xiang Xian had intended to save the last question for emergencies, but Xiao Kun asked, “What of me, him, us—the path of the exorcists? Can we seal the Heavenly Demon again?”
“You will fall in love with each other,” Shuhu said in its usual calm tone.
Xiao Kun: “???”
Xiang Xian had walked aside to sit and calm down, but hearing this, he turned back in bewilderment. “What? Who? Fall in love with whom?”
