CHU WANNING was first to emerge from the tunnel. The cramped passage opened up to a vast and empty platform, so broad it seemed to touch the horizon. Walking onto it was like stepping into a place of purity far above the heavens.
The bright moon hung high and round above them. There was nothing at all on the platform. No plants stirred, but as the cold wind bit into their skin and parted the hazy fog, they saw a figure sitting in its center.
Xu Shuanglin.
The group filed their way out. Most fell into shocked stillness at the sight of their enemy. Xue Zhengyong was stunned into speech. "What…how… What's going on?"
"Good heavens," someone whispered in alarm. "How did it come to this?"
"Is he dead or alive?"
Mo Ran walked toward the seated figure. The closer he got, the more unsettling the scene became. Xu Shuanglin sat cross-legged on the ground, his eyes closed. The right side of his body was rotted beyond recognition, putrid fluid and pus-laced blood streaming from his flesh, creating a vile stench. Planted in the ground around him were five holy weapons wreathed in vicious energy.
Mo Ran's fingertips twitched—Bugui was among their number. The dark blade had been shoved deep into the earth, its faint green glow pooling on the ground beneath before joining the light of the other four weapons and surging into Xu Shuanglin's heart. The lines of Xu Shuanglin's gaunt face flickered with the weapons' inconstant light.
Behind Xu Shuanglin was a maelstrom of pitch-black smoke, like a barrier about to take shape.
As the others came out onto the platform, Huang Xiaoyue murmured in disbelief, "Is this…is this Weapon Ensoulment?"
Xue Meng looked to his dad for an explanation, but turning his head brought Xue Zhengyong's bloodless face into view. Whatever this technique was, it was clear he couldn't believe anyone was capable of using it.
"What is this?" another junior asked quietly. It seemed Xue Meng wasn't the only one in the dark.
Studying Xu Shuanglin's face at a distance, Chu Wanning answered. "Weapon Ensoulment requires the sacrifice of one's own soul to holy weapons that have slaked their thirst with human blood. The caster creates a binding oath with the weapon, swearing to allow their soul to be torn apart by the weapon's spirit after their death and transformed into a sacrifice that strengthens the holy weapon."
"A living sacrifice to a holy weapon?" Xue Meng exclaimed. "Why do such a thing?"
"Because he doesn't have enough spiritual energy," Chu Wanning said. "This technique allows him to massively increase his own strength in a short period of time—if he offers his soul to the weapon, the weapon will let him borrow its power."
There came a faint sigh. Everyone took a step back; Xue Meng unsheathed Longcheng, eyes trained on Xu Shuanglin's face.
Xu Shuanglin slowly opened his eyes. When he looked up in the moonlight, half his face appeared as it always did. The other had rotted into stinking mush.
"Chu-zongshi… Gentlemen, you've found me after all."
Bracing himself with an arm on the ground in front of him, he rose, swaying, and looked past all those wary, disgusted, terrified faces with no change in expression. His remaining eye roved over them, a mocking, wicked malevolence flickering in its depths. But as he scanned the crowd once, then twice, without seeing the face he sought, the smiling cruelty froze and turned to anger. "Where is Ye Wangxi?!" Xu Shuanglin raged.
"How dare you speak her name?" Xue Meng yelled back.
"What have you done to her?!"
"None of your business! What right does a heartless, bloodless, fleshless person like you have to care for Ye Wangxi?"
"Care?" The word seemed to startle Xu Shuanglin. His face went blank, then he narrowed his eyes, as if he had mastered his surprise. "Why would I care? How ridiculous…"
"Why are you wasting so much breath on him? Kill him!" Jiang Xi commanded. He lifted his right hand and the sword Xuehuang appeared in his grasp.
As the blade whistled down toward Xu Shuanglin, a black shadow flashed between them and broke Jiang Xi's strike. Arching a brow, Jiang Xi snarled. "Mo-zongshi, why are you stopping me?"
"I have questions for him!" Mo Ran turned, a complex light flashing in his eyes. Pursing his lips, he seemed to consider several ways to begin, but what left his mouth was: "Where's your accomplice?"
Xu Shuanglin scratched his feet on the ground. Even now, he managed to move lazily. Mo Ran noticed he was barefoot again.
"As you say, he's my accomplice." Xu Shuanglin bared his white teeth in a smile. Somehow, it still looked bright on what remained of his face and contained a hint of mockery. "Then you should know I'll never tell. This humble one knows something of brotherhood, after all. Savior heroes and do-gooder gentlemen, don't bother trying to get it out of me."
He looked pointedly at Jiangui, coiling red in Mo Ran's hand. "Don't get any ideas, either. I'll cut out my tongue if I need to—there's no shortage of methods I could use to conceal the truth."
Xue Meng was flabbergasted. "S-someone like you…has the guts to speak of brotherhood…?"
"Oh? Why can't I speak of brotherhood? Supportive friends, harmonious siblings, kindly teachers and filial students; the good enjoying peaceful serenity while the evil are justly punished—that's how the world ought to be. Do you imagine you're the only ones who know such principles?"
His brazenness left Xue Meng stupefied. "You? Talking about harmonious siblings? Kindly teachers and filial students?" Xue Meng pointed at him in disbelief. "You gotta be joking."
"Why?" Xu Shuanglin replied.
"Are you crazy? You're the one who attacked your brother; you're the one who goaded Nangong Liu into eating Luo Fenghua's spiritual core. You've done all sorts of nasty stuff, and now you… Now you say so righteously that this is how the world should be?"
Faced with Xue Meng's torrent of questions, Xu Shuanglin only grinned. He neither confirmed nor denied, but instead asked, "Little Brother, how old are you this year?"
"What's it to you?"
"It doesn't matter if you tell me or not." Xu Shuanglin looked him up and down. "You look about twenty. Twenty-year-olds are always like this. Full of passion and naivete, up on your high horse and convinced of your own capabilities." He paused, smiling. "What a wonderful age to be."
The glow from the holy weapons on the ground flowed inward, passing him boundless spiritual energy. This was how he maintained control over those thousands of Zhenlong chess pieces and dealt with the backlash from the pawns. Even with the weapons' help, his skin was rotting at a pace visible to the naked eye.
Xu Shuanglin paid it no heed, as if he couldn't see his body being devoured by the vicious energy. Pacing before that swirling barrier, he continued. "Twenty… Do you know what I was doing at your age?"
"What you were doing?" Xue Meng said, indignant. "Everyone knows what you were up to! You stole the sect leader's ring and became the head of Rufeng Sect instead of your gege. Within two months, you killed two of the upper cultivation realm's sect leaders! When people sought you for accountability, you dug out their eyes—you goddamn freak, you're the perfect example of cruelty, malevolence, and ignorance! If I had done all of that by twenty like you did, it would be better I died at twelve!"
"Meng-er," Xue Zhengyong warned quietly. "Hush." The last thing he wanted was for Xue Meng to pique Xu Shuanglin's interest and bring doom upon himself.
"Nah, don't." Xu Shuanglin's ears were still sharp. Waving his hands, he grinned. "Keep going—why hush?"
His patronizing smile—as though he was watching a parrot flapping its wings and chirping on its perch—infuriated Xue Meng further. "Y-you have no shame! You're hopeless!"
"What shame is there to speak of? This history you mentioned is nothing I feel shame for. You say I stole the sect leader's ring. Who doesn't know positions of power go to those with the strength to take them? My useless gege has no talent at all, but that silver tongue helped him prosper. Those who'd never tested him thought him formidable indeed. They called us Rufeng's pair of young masters—they said our spiritual energy and skills were perfectly matched—don't you think that was ridiculous? The two of us?" Xu Shuanglin snorted, putting a hand to his brow. "Forget it. Even as a child, I could defeat his best attempt. Us, a matched pair? While I was practicing the sword, he was cuddled up to his mother eating tangerines! I toiled in the heat of summer and the cold of winter, while he lazed about year-round! While I poured my effort into making a name for myself at the Spiritual Mountain Competition, he snuck around me and took the credit! And what came after? All of you named the hard worker a thief, and gave the sluggard the glorious title of the world's most outstanding talent—was that justice?"
Xue Meng hesitated but didn't falter. "But that doesn't mean you had to resort to this…"
"Bullshit! Of course you'd say that; there's nothing easier than lecturing other people on empty principles. Your tune would change if it were your turn. If such a thing happened to you at the Spiritual Mountain Competition, could you endure it?!"
His retort caught Xue Meng off guard, rendering him mute. If it had happened to him, could he have endured it?
"Hundreds of people on the field pointing at you, saying you have no shame, giving him all the applause and accolades, leaving you with nothing but the stain of a false crime you could never wash away—all your effort reduced to rubble in the face of his sweet-talking—is that justice?"
"I-I…"
Xu Shuanglin scoffed. "Next, killing those two sect leaders. One spent his days drumming on the temple block and reciting the prettiest sutras, while the other was known for his strength and righteousness—but they both callously shoved me into an endless hell for their own gain. I'm asking you gentlemen: why should I have spared their worthless lives?"
The cultivators from the two sects he'd mentioned went purple in the face, but neither could muster a strong rebuttal. It was Abbot Xuanjing of Wubei Temple who finally sighed and closed his eyes, hands pressed together before him. "An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind…"
"That's right, it makes the whole world blind. Everyone wants to bring an end to grudges, but why does it have to start with me?" Each word was steeped in fury, but the smile remained on Xu Shuanglin's face. It was light as a breeze, slightly curled in a sneer. "If I slapped you across the face, then said an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, so you can't hit me back—would you like that, you old bald donkey?"
"Wash your filthy mouth out, Nangong Xu!" someone shouted. "How can you speak to your senior this way?"
"Hey, I'm also your fucking senior," replied Xu Shuanglin. "You better wash your filthy mouth out too, sweetheart."
The cultivator fell silent.
Stroking his beard, Huang Xiaoyue began, "Nangong Xu…"
Xu Shuanglin held up a hand, the corners of his half-rotten mouth curving. "Let's agree on one thing. Call me Xu Shuanglin. I don't like the name Nangong Xu."
Huang Xiaoyue swept his sleeves. "Even if you killed those two sect leaders for wrongs done, the debt should have died with them. Why did you gouge out the eyes of so many others?"
"See, I used to go by your principles. But no one listened to me then." He paused, chuckling. "Later on, I became a madman, and you all tried to make a madman talk principles. Oh, you righteous gentlemen…you're so funny." He started clapping, making wet sounds. "So, so funny."
Mo Ran, who'd been standing silent nearby, spoke up. "So you've only ever wanted justice, is that right?"
Xu Shuanglin said nothing. His gaze roved upward and fixed on Mo Ran's face. On top of that stone platform, wrapped by freezing winds, they looked at each other.
In Mo Ran's eyes, Xu Shuanglin's silhouette faded until what he saw wasn't this rotting, dying man. He looked past Xu Shuanglin and saw another shadow, one wearing a beaded crown and lavish robes of black and gold. Emperor Taxian-jun, himself from the past life.
"We met Nangong Liu on the way here. He called you Your Majesty—I see you've given yourself a title. You've become the emperor of this temple; you're now the judge, jury, and executioner. Everything you say is right, or becomes right—anything you say is wrong becomes an unforgivable sin. You decide who lives or dies, who is rewarded or punished. Is this the justice you wanted?"
Xu Shuanglin paused for a moment, then sneered. But Mo Ran saw Taxian-jun sneering, that pale and handsome face filled with ridicule.
"What does it matter? You saw for yourself. I, too, once believed you wise gentlemen, believed in so-called equality of opportunity—but how did that work out?" He paused, pacing back and forth within the holy weapon array, a mad glint in his eyes. "You were the ones who put a coward on a pedestal and trampled heroes beneath your feet. You were the ones who treated hard work like dung and made altars of outhouses. You who saw flattery as friendship and pride as arrogance—you committed all your misdeeds with impunity, then shoved me into the mud! You turned and told me it doesn't matter how great an injustice I've suffered, how my brother framed and defamed me; it doesn't matter what kind of humiliation I've endured. That's my own personal business; no matter how bad it was, I shouldn't vent my anger on the innocent. Ha! What a joke!"
Mo Ran saw Taxian-jun's sneer widen into an evil grin.
"They didn't blame you, they didn't baselessly accuse you of misdeeds. Of course you have the breath for pretty platitudes! Whereas I—I was only seeking karmic justice on my own terms."
"…Karmic justice?" Mo Ran stood facing Taxian-jun. "How many did you kill for your karmic justice? You named yourself emperor atop piles of white bone and tides of crimson blood—did you never feel the slightest regret?"
"What have I got to regret? I killed all those people, but I'll give them a chance at rebirth, of course. All will become pawns in my hands, their every move dependent on my whims. Only then will black and white be made manifest, good and evil as distinct as the clear Jing River flowing into the muddy Wei. That is justice."
Mo Ran paused. "You've used your own morals as the measure for all humanity."
"I am that measure." Xu Shuanglin stood, clothes whipping in the wind. He was Nangong Xu to everyone else, and Taxian-jun to Mo Ran.
"Look what I did in the front hall. Did you not find it beautiful? The kind enjoy the peace they earned, while the vile are burned and cooked alive. He who wielded the murderer's knife will bare his own neck for retribution. Every debt will be settled, every eye repaid with an eye. What's wrong with that?"
"You have quite a high opinion of yourself," Mo Ran said.
"Why shouldn't I?" Taxian-jun replied. "As I see it, this is the greatest retribution of all."
Everyone was silent in the face of Xu Shuanglin's deranged reasoning. Before they'd come here, many expected Xu Shuanglin had done all this for power, or to settle his own grudges. None had imagined Xu Shuanglin considered everything he'd done righteous and just.
In this world, who was fit to be that fairest measure? Perhaps not even the descendants of gods, Tianyin Pavilion.
Mo Ran stood unmoving. After a moment, he regained enough serenity to turn to that Taxian-jun who stood facing him. His beaded crown had disappeared, and his handsome face turned sunken, darkening to black. Mo Ran blinked. The man before him was Xu Shuanglin, not Emperor Taxian-jun. It was just that Xu Shuanglin acted so much like the man he remembered being that he'd mistakenly believed he was interrogating himself through space and time.
"Okay. Let me see if I understand. All those pawns in the hall—despite not having the spiritual energy to sustain them, you want them to keep their living minds. You've built your kingdom in this temple, and now you're their god. You're His Majesty the Emperor. You've split the world into two halves, where the good are good and the evil are evil. This is the justice you yearned for."
As Mo Ran spoke, a blizzard of memories whirled like a storm in his head. He remembered the Xu Shuanglin who'd died beneath falling blades to save Ye Wangxi. The Xu Shuanglin who'd stood in the courtyard Farewell to Three Lifetimes with his feet bare as he teased his parrot. The Xu Shuanglin who'd asked his brother for half a tangerine at Jincheng Lake. The tangerine trees on Mount Jiao; Nangong Liu with his mind returned to childhood; Luo Fenghua, who'd been snatched back from endless hell… Every one of these details linked together, cresting in his mind like a breaking wave.
Mo Ran looked up. His dark eyes held no ridicule nor disdain, only quiet observation. "Am I right, Nangong Xu?"
"Call me Xu Shuang—"
"No, your name is Nangong Xu." Mo Ran walked up to him, studying the rotting ruin of a man. No one could understand Nangong Xu's mindset better than he; they were both men forced to take a dark road. Taxian-jun from the past life was the same as Xu Shuanglin from this one.
He saw it with crystal clarity. He watched for the faintest changes in Xu Shuanglin's expression, catching every minute detail. Then he stopped, eyes downcast. "It's so cold out, and the ground's so chilly," Mo Ran murmured. "Nangong Xu, why aren't you wearing shoes?"
The smile on Xu Shuanglin's face froze, but he swiftly brought that flickering expression back to an impenetrable strength. "I don't want to—"
"Don't you love it when Ye Wangxi asks you that question?"
Xu Shuanglin fell silent.
"The first time I saw you in your courtyard, you weren't wearing shoes. She was the one who brought them to you. I'm sure you had no idea how smug you looked."
Mo Ran watched Xu Shuanglin's face without blinking. This was the answer he'd guessed at on the beaches of Flying Flower Isle, watching apocalyptic fire sending up roiling black smoke as it consumed Linyi on the opposite shore. "Nangong Xu, you've always hoped someone would notice your feet were bare. You hoped for someone to say—"
Fear flashed across Xu Shuanglin's smiling face. He took a step back, nose wrinkling in a snarl. "Shut up."
But of course Mo Ran wouldn't. He watched Xu Shuanglin; his erratic response had transformed Mo Ran's tentative assumption into certainty. He felt again as if he weren't seeing Xu Shuanglin but himself from the past life, trapped in an inescapable darkness. "Put on your shoes; it's cold out."
In the unsteady light, amid the clanging of the holy weapons, Xu Shuanglin leapt panther-like at Mo Ran and grabbed him by the lapels. That human hand and stinking claw clutched him at the same time. Xu Shuanglin's eyes were bloodshot. "Shut up!" he snarled. "Shut your mouth!"
"Okay. But before I do, let me say one last thing."
"Don't!" Xu Shuanglin cried in despair, like a dragon with its vulnerable inverted scale torn away, blood streaming freely from his wound. "Don't…"
"Ye Wangxi is a lot like Luo Fenghua, isn't she?"
Mo Ran's words were quiet, but they seemed to drain Xu Shuanglin of all his strength. He stood mute and dazed.
Those familiar with both Luo Fenghua and Ye Wangxi fell silent as well. They were completely different people with no blood relationship; in these rolling sands of time, one had died before the other was even born. But at Mo Ran's reminder, realization dawned. Indeed, they were alike. Ye Wangxi's mannerisms and movements, her personality and temper, poise and speech, were the spitting image of Xu Shuanglin's dear mentor, Luo Fenghua.
Xu Shuanglin released Mo Ran's lapels as if burned. Hands twisted into talons, he buried his face in his palms as his shoulders shook.
"Is he…" Xue Meng murmured. "Is he crying?"
Crying? Certainly not.
Xu Shuanglin kept his head lowered, face in his hands. As the shaking of his shoulders grew more violent, ghoulish giggles escaped between his fingers. "Ha…" The sound spread like ripples on water. He let his hands fall and cackled, "Ha ha ha, alike? What nonsense! Mo-zongshi, have you ever even met Luo Fenghua? You merely glimpsed his corpse when we opened the Infinite Hells. How are you so convinced after one look? Who thinks highly of himself now?"
"Since you've brought up the Infinite Hells and the matter of Luo Fenghua's corpse," said Mo Ran, "let me ask another question. Where is he?"
Xu Shuanglin's eyes narrowed, his smile stiffening into a leer. "What do you mean?"
"In your kingdom, good and evil are punished or rewarded at your whim. But you couldn't bear to kill Nangong Liu; in fact, you even released him from his lingchi fruit curse. I couldn't fathom why. But if he's still here, there's no way you would abandon Luo Fenghua. Your spiritual energy isn't enough to control all the pawns, so you're offering your soul to the holy weapons. But I fought you at Jincheng Lake and Peach Blossom Springs. I know you haven't reached your limits."
Xu Shuanglin said nothing.
"Other than reckless use of the Zhenlong Chess Formation, there's another reason you're flagging—the second forbidden technique you've spent all these years working toward." Mo Ran paused, letting the words strike true. "Has your Rebirth finally brought Luo Fenghua back from the eighteen hells?"
All color had fled Xu Shuanglin's face. As he took breath to speak, a wisp of white smoke rose from the black maelstrom behind him.
Xue Zhengyong, seasoned warrior that he was, was first to react. "Shit! There's something beyond his array!"