Chapter 96

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Protagonist:

Shaowei

Liu Qi

Zhu Zhi had never lived in the South; with his severed arm and severe injuries, he found it increasingly difficult to acclimatize to the local climate and conditions.

He failed to obtain the evidence, and Huang Jie died in the Wuling Commandery Prince's Mansion... He was naturally filled with ten thousand parts resentment and unwillingness, yet his injuries were difficult to heal; to survive, he had to leave this uncontrolled ghost of a place as quickly as possible.

Besides the wounds on his body, he had also contracted a heart ailment; a man who did not believe in ghosts or gods gave birth to a heart demon. Every time he closed his eyes, his mind would momentarily hold that White Ze mask, and momentarily the vicious eyes of the mountain girl and the icy poison blade in her hand.

In his daze, he constantly felt killing intent lurking on all sides, that everyone was coming to kill him.

It was obvious that, compared to that White Ze mask, that bizarre, inhuman girl was the true architect of his heart demon, and he now had a conjecture about her origins... The ten-odd Embroidered Uniform Guards who stayed in Taoxi Township to eradicate the roots were killed; the person who should have been killed became the killer, and after killing, they seemingly vanished without a trace, but in reality turned into a ghostly shadow that pursued him to Yundang Mountain, raising a blade to kill right before him.

He had to kill her, kill her, and only then could his heart demon be dispelled... He would definitely kill her!

Inside the carriage, Zhu Zhi's eyes were full of gloomy hatred; he turned his head to look at his own severed arm, this second mutilation to appear on his body.

After a moment, his gaze shifted downward, landing on the long box beside him; the long box was tightly shut, lined inside with lime, yet a faint stench of decay still seeped out.

The carriage and horses rumbled on, the long box swaying slightly; the procession advanced at great speed.

Halfway on the return journey to the capital, they encountered a party of ten-odd Embroidered Uniform Guards coming from the capital direction; they carried the Emperor's secret decree, urgently summoning Zhu Zhi back to the capital.

Zhu Zhi grew even more anxious to hurry; he absolutely had to go faster, lest those people get a step ahead and confuse the Emperor's hearing!

The procession raced toward the direction of Chang'an City; Zhu Zhi arrived in the capital even two days earlier than Chiyang, and on the very day the Chang'an city gates were about to close, this exhausted train of carriages and horses carried its frantic passengers through the twilight into the city.

The setting sun faded completely, night took over heaven and earth, and the Wuling Commandery Prince's Mansion lit its lamps one after another.

Deng Hu returned quickly from outside, bowed to the youth behind the book desk, and reported in a low voice: "Your Highness, the informants throughout the commandery have been withdrawn one after another; only a few remain, and they are within controllable range."

Liu Qi finished writing the last character on the bamboo slip, then casually rested the brush on the edge of the inkstone.

The youth fastened a cloak as pitch-black as the dense ink in the inkstone, boarded the carriage, and drove into the night that was just as pitch-black as the cloak on his body.

He was finally going to see that person he had searched for a long time, who was very important.

That was his maternal uncle's bloodline, his cousin of the same age; they had grown up together since childhood, together experienced that nightmare, soaked in the same sea of blood, bearing similar yet not entirely identical hatred.

At the reunion of closest kin, what they inevitably had to face first were freshly reopened scars.

Thus Liu Qi in the carriage repeatedly demanded of himself that he must not sink only into that old sea of blood; Congnan was the only relative he had left in this world, and had wandered outside until now, suffering who knows how many hardships and dangers; he absolutely had to fulfill the duty of comforting and persuading him.

And if Congnan hated him as well, that was also something he had to bear, and he should not have any cold words of resentment.

The inconspicuous courtyard gate was pushed open; Liu Qi entered the courtyard and walked toward the lamp-lit front hall. He had repeatedly imagined what kind of face he would see — resentful, grief-stricken, venting anger... yet he had uniquely never imagined the demeanor before his eyes.

"Siret, you've come!"

Ling Congnan in the hall hurried over, stopping inside the door threshold, looking at Liu Qi who had halted outside the threshold.

After a thousand-odd days and nights, four eyes met again.

The youth inside the door, wearing a lead-white wide robe, was moved, yet the undertone of his brows and eyes was calm and peaceful; behind him the candlelight shone bright and warm.

The youth outside, wearing a dark cloak, was steeped in a cold tide; that cold tide came both from the night road and from his bone and blood; his pitch-black eyes held a touch of blankness; behind him the night was dim and dark.

"Siret, come in quickly, the wind is strong outside." Ling Congnan stepped aside, urging Liu Qi to enter and speak.

Liu Qi barely collected himself, replied "Alright," and stepped across the threshold into the hall.

Deng Hu stood guard outside the hall; the two inside sat facing each other by candlelight.

Liu Qi looked at those hands pouring tea, and felt that even they exuded an unusual calm and composure.

The atmosphere was clearly millions of times calmer than anticipated, like family sitting at leisure, yet this calmness gripped Liu Qi's throat; he actually expended some effort before he could open his mouth and ask: "Congnan, these years... where have you been hiding? I've been searching for you all along."

Congnan was only two months older than him; as a child he didn't understand, always feeling Congnan wasn't as tall as him, so he naturally ought to be the older brother. By the time they were five or six and fully understood reason, the habit was already formed, and calling him otherwise would be awkward; their relationship had always been very good, so they called each other by name.

Later, he received a courtesy name, and Congnan called him by his courtesy name, which seemed even more intimate.

Congnan had no courtesy name; his maternal uncle never got the chance to give Congnan one.

"Let's not speak of the past; in short, I'm fine..." Ling Congnan pushed a cup of tea toward Liu Qi, saying: "Siret, on the contrary, it's you who have suffered in the South these years."

He raised his head to look at Liu Qi, saying with some remorse: "You shouldn't have looked for me, and shouldn't have saved me; it was too risky."

The bewilderment in Liu Qi's heart deepened, and he blurted out: "But if I had been a step later, you would have fallen into the hands of the Embroidered Uniform Guards—"

Ling Congnan shook his head, saying gently: "Life and death are fated; as long as no one else is implicated, that's enough. Siret, your situation is already very difficult."

Life and death are fated.

These four words struck Liu Qi's back like an unexpected blunt club.

He could see and hear clearly that the other's words were not dejection, nor the self-destruction he knew, but a kind of detachment, a release from looking lightly on life and death... so he also looked lightly on hatred?

Liu Qi felt it inconceivable; he tried to find a trace of a kindred aura in those still vaguely familiar eyes, but came away empty-handed.

Only a candle flame and two cups of clear tea separated the two, yet it seemed as if they had been split into two separate worlds.

The other was a sage, detached and transcendent from inside out; he was a ghost coated in fresh blood from head to toe.

In his confusion, Liu Qi couldn't help but directly ask the person before him: "Congnan, don't you want revenge?"

This was the blade-light bloodstain he had repeatedly warned himself on the road not to speak bluntly, not to render vividly; he was unwilling to cut Congnan too deeply.

But at this moment, he almost asked this sentence with a self-protective mindset, because he felt the fear of self-doubt.

Ling Congnan met those flickering eyes, slightly averted his gaze, and said hoarsely: "Siret, sorry... I don't remember that night's events too clearly anymore."

Liu Qi's mind went blank for a moment: "Why would you not remember clearly?"

"After that night, I fell ill, was sick for a long time, high fever, convulsions, coma, hard to wake... Ling Congnan's voice was very low; the sound of a woman reciting scriptures once reverberated in his mind; he recalled everything from that time, summarizing briefly: "After I improved, I slowly couldn't recall that night's events; though there is a general awareness, it's as if separated by a layer of gauze and mist, extracted myself, standing in a very far place observing."

Liu Qi was unable to speak for a long time.

Because of the Feng family young lady brought back from Tianlang Mountain, he had also incidentally heard of this kind of pathology; it is said that some people, after suffering a tremendous, unbearable blow, in order to survive, will selectively forget those overly painful memories, or forcibly detach their emotions.

Because it was too painful, so they forgot?

But even if she could no longer recall the specific circumstances and state of mind at that time, that matter had always existed — her closest kin had died miserably that night… Knowing all this, could it still not stir up the hatred in her heart?

Liu Qi found it unimaginable.

He had originally prepared words of apology, but at this moment he could only sit there blankly, listening to the other party apologize to him repeatedly: "Situi, I am very sorry. But… hatred and killing have no end, the dead are gone, fate is ordained by heaven; if Father and Aunt and Cousin have spirits in heaven, they certainly would not wish to see you like this, disregarding your own safety, suffering so for so long."

After Ling Congnan finished speaking, for a long time he could not hear Liu Qi's response; the former looked at the latter, the latter lowered his eyes beneath the lamp, the lamplight falling on his lowered eyelashes, not reaching into the slightly reddened eyes.

Liu Qi knew he had no standing to reproach — would it not be better to let go of hatred? Must he really soak in a sea of blood together with him? Such thinking was too crazy, too selfish.

After a moment, Liu Qi smiled self-mockingly in his heart; when he raised his eyes again, he said in a tone that could be called peaceful: "Cousin, please rest assured and stay here; as for all other matters, I will handle everything."

Ling Congnan frowned slightly, wanting to speak but stopping.

"I cannot stay long; I will come again another day when the timing is right." Liu Qi rose.

Ling Congnan stared blankly for a while at that cup of tea that had not been touched, then suddenly stood up: "Situi!"

He said to the back that was about to step across the threshold: "There is one more thing, I must apologize to you for it. I vaguely remember that year, Aunt had someone instruct me beforehand not to wander about recklessly, only to wait for Ji He to come fetch me, but at that time I was too panicked, single-mindedly wanting to go out and find Father and Aunt and them…"

He was the Prince Companion Reader, his daily life also in the palace; that night everywhere was very chaotic, the Imperial Guard's blades like hell itself…

"Afterward I thought, Ji He would certainly have come looking for me; it must have been because my reckless running delayed things, affected the plan, causing Ji He to be unable to take Yu'er and leave in time, resulting in her life or death unknown…"

He had already lived in this separate courtyard for over a month; although he had not been able to see Liu Qi, there had been messages sent; the first thing he asked about was Yu'er's whereabouts, only then learning that over these years Situi had also been unable to find any trace of Yu'er.

At that time Yu'er still could not walk very steadily; she was a baby still drinking milk; even if by luck she was still alive, after these four years her appearance would surely have changed greatly; the world is vast, how could she ever be found?

"Cousin Congnan need not blame yourself." Liu Qi did not turn back, only said: "I believe Yu'er is not dead; I will find her and bring her back."

"Then… what can I do to help you?" Ling Congnan felt somewhat at a loss, and hurriedly added: "I heard Zhu Zhi has already returned to the capital; he certainly will not let the matter rest, and he has already spread the news that I am still alive; even if he has not obtained any evidence and cannot convict you, His Majesty will certainly not easily dispel this suspicion…"

Seemingly sensing his helplessness, he saw Situi turn back around, his tone calm, even carrying some reassurance: "No need to worry; this trace of suspicion is also within the plan. I currently need precisely this trace of suspicion, so that Imperial Uncle will remember me."

Ling Congnan's expression was worried and uneasy: "Being remembered by him… is that a good thing?"

Liu Qi smiled: "At least it is not entirely a bad thing."

Only those who want to survive by keeping their heads down need to be forgotten for a long time.

This remembering is a sword; everyone knows, unlike a blade, a sword is a double-edged weapon.

As if he had already seen that double-edged sword hanging high, Ling Congnan wanted to say "this is too risky," but looking at the youth's overly calm black eyes, he clearly understood all this better than anyone.

In this instant, Ling Congnan reviewed this journey of being rescued; looking at this Liu Situi who was so strange, he truly realized that in the four years since he chose to let go of all this, Situi had always been trapped in this cage of hatred, and had struggled to grow wings stained with blood.

The black night condensed and merged behind the youth, just like the wings of a dark eagle; the dark eagle stood on the cliff's edge, behind it a bottomless abyss.

The youth turned like a dark eagle, plunging into that abyss-like night.

Deng Hu drove the carriage, returning all the way to the Commandery Prince's Mansion.

Master and servant, the two of them, stepped into Ju Yuan; Liu Qi, who had been silent all the way, walked to the center of the courtyard, but stopped his steps, standing quietly in place.

Deng Hu was somewhat worried, about to speak and ask, but saw his master raise his leg and walk toward that side gate; the side gate was pushed open, night wind rushed over, the youth walked on amid the sky full of falling leaves.

It was already late October; the cold wind stripped the leaves, not leaving a shred of mercy.

In the desolate garden there was only one spot of lamplight; that lamplight was weak, yet enough to attract moths.

Before the pavilion with only a single lonely lamp hanging, there was still a lively feeling; the red-robed girl was practicing stick technique; her body moved like lightning, the stick like a swift wind, stirring the night; all around it seemed to burn with vermilion fire.

She had long since sensed someone approaching; that slightly limping footstep was not hard to identify — it was him; thus it was not enough to interrupt her practice; she finished a whole set of stick techniques before stopping, left hand gripping the stick upright at her side, her slightly sweaty face showing a few parts of natural arrogance, looking toward Liu Qi standing not far away.

She stared at him, and asked: "What, did someone bully you?"

She had extremely bright eyes and extremely keen sense of smell.

Liu Qi smiled, and counter-asked her: "What, do I look very pitiful?"

"Not to the point of pitiful; no bleeding, what is there to be pitiful about."

Shaowei finished speaking, walked to one side, tiptoed and reached up to pluck a fruit from the tree, turned and tossed it to Liu Qi.

Liu Qi hurriedly raised his hand, steadily caught the flying red fruit, held it in his hand and looked at it, then raised his head to look at her.

But saw her lift her chin slightly, gesturing for him to eat.

Liu Qi hesitated for a moment, but in the end still brought it to his mouth and took a bite.

He chewed it carefully, holding the fruit walked toward her, and then in a reciprocal gesture, also raised his hand, plucked one and handed it to her.

Shaowei had eaten too much in the evening and accumulated food, so she got up to practice stick; she originally wanted to refuse, but thinking of her upcoming decision, she still reached out and took it, treating it entirely as a friendly interaction.

She wiped the fruit's skin, crunched a bite, but instantly it was so sour her face contorted, she bent over and spat it out with two "pah pah" sounds, forcefully throwing the fruit in her hand away.

Then she reached out and snatched the fruit from Liu Qi's hand, and threw that away too.

After throwing them, she reacted, turned her head and glared at him angrily: "Hey, I kindly picked a fruit for you to eat, yet you tease me like this!"

She clearly saw Zhan Zhan eat this fruit before; she never expected it would be this sour; but her intention was good! Not insidious like him!

Liu Qi's shoulders had long been shaking with laughter; at this moment he simply laughed out loud; while dodging her striking hands, he said: "I swallowed a mouthful down, the sour suffering I endured is much more than yours!"

Not far away, Deng Hu watching this scene stared with wide eyes and dropped jaw, his heart involuntarily reaching an absurd conclusion — so the Sixth Prince specially came to seek a beating? The Sixth Prince's way of relieving his mood is actually to ask this person for a beating? Could it be that back in the snowy ground, some unspeakable fetish was beaten out?!

Those two fruits were still rolling; the fruit-thrower had great strength and a big temper; the fruit soured her, so she used ox-strength to throw them.

The red fruits, each missing a bite, rolled and rolled, like a mischievous child's two hands, parting the heavy night.