WUSHAN PALACE had once been Sisheng Peak's Loyalty Hall. After Taxian-jun declared himself its master, it was split into three—the front, middle, and back halls.
The Mei brothers were waiting at the doors by the time Xue Meng trudged over. "There's something wrong with the palace," said the elder brother as Xue Meng drew close. "It's full of illusion miasma."
"What's that?"
"An arcane fog," Mei Hanxue explained. "It's in the plum blossom forest at Taxue Palace year-round."
"What does it do?" asked Xue Meng, face paling.
"Trespassers get lost in it. It has no effect on your own people, but outsiders will see a labyrinth of illusions and wander in circles. You know when regular folks talk about getting lost and ending up back where they started? It's like that."
Xue Meng fell silent.
"They're stalling for time," Mei Hänxue said coldly. "Something's happening in the back halls right now."
"What do you think?" asked Mei Hanxue. "Can we go around it?"
Mei Hänxue shot him a look. "Have you not spent the last twenty years of your life at Taxue Palace? Is that even a question?"
His little brother hesitated, then awkwardly cleared his throat before turning to Xue Meng. "There's nothing for it. We have to find the source of the fragrant fog and dispel it." Seeing the look on Xue Meng's face, he sought to comfort him. "Don't worry, I'm great at this. I'm always ducking into the plum forest miasma in Taxue Palace's back mountains to hide from girls chasing me. I'll have this dealt with in no time."
The mention of his admirers brought the storm clouds rolling over Mei Hänxue's face. "Why do you sound so proud of it?" His voice was freezing.
Xue Meng wasn't in the mood to listen to them banter. He strode forward and pushed open the doors of Wushan Palace.
The red-lacquered doors creaked open like the stinking maw of a vengeful ghost. Candles flickered within the waiting silence. Xue Meng stepped over the threshold, registering the faint floral scent. When he turned, the Mei brothers were gone. They'd likely all see different sights until the fog was dispelled; until then, they were on their own.
A familiar voice rang out from the lofty throne. "Xue Meng."
Cold wind gusted through the dark and diaphanous drapes hung in the hall. Startled, Xue Meng cried, "Mo Ran?!"
"It's you, right?" Mo Ran rasped. "Have you come?"
Xue Meng swallowed hard, nerves wound taut as he walked further into the dimly lit hall with Xuehuang held before him. He brushed the layered drapes aside with the tip of his sword and beheld the speaker.
Atop a lofty dais sat a man sprawled on a gilt throne with his eyes closed, his face handsome and pale beneath a beaded crown. His brows were dark and his features sharp, his nose straight and finely shaped. His thin lips were pursed in an unreadable expression.
Taxian-jun.
The pallor of his face was unnatural, tinged a corpse's ashy gray—the effects of some terrible poison. A platter of fruit sat in front of him, replete with rosy apples and indigo grapes. The richest colors of the realm were arrayed before him, but the man on the throne didn't so much as glance at the plate.
Was it an illusion? Was it real? Xue Meng couldn't tell. His ears rang; when he came back to his senses, he heard his own voice speaking. "Mo Ran, you…"
Taxian-jun's eyes remained closed, as if in sleep. "What is it?"
Perhaps the man atop the throne looked too fragile, or perhaps Xue Meng had already vented his rage in the pouring rain earlier. Facing the illusion, Xue Meng felt more weariness than anger. "Why did you do all of this? Is this a second life for you? You and Shizun…are you two really…?"
What was the point of asking all this? He didn't even know if Mo Ran would reply. Still, he mumbled blankly, giving voice to the questions that had piled up in his heart until they'd nearly crushed him beneath their weight.
As expected, Taxian-jun's only answer was a low hum. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at Xue Meng through the flickering light and shadow. "Come to think of it, it's been two years since the last time you and Shizun met face-to-face—since your farewell at Kunlun Taxue Palace."
Xue Meng faltered. "What?"
Mo Ran smiled faintly. "Xue Meng, do you miss him?"
Xue Meng shook. "What do you mean, Kunlun Taxue Palace? What do you mean two years. What are you saying?!"
The illusion in front of him was merely replaying Taxian-jun's final conversation with Xue Meng, just before the Mo Ran of the past life had succumbed to the poison. These were Taxian-jun's last words. The miasma took on whatever form it willed, and coincidentally shaped the scene of their last meeting in the past life.
But this version of Xue Meng had no inkling of any of this. He was bewildered and infuriated, vexed and afraid. He glared at the man on the throne and shouted, "What the hell are you talking about?"
Taxian-jun's eyes seemed to focus on the space just behind him, as if looking through the real, live Xue Meng to fix upon an incorporeal spirit. "Give him back to you? How foolish. Why don't you use your brain to think a little? Shizun and I share such an intense hatred for each other. How could I allow him to live in this world?"
Xue Meng fell silent. Yes…this was an illusion. Even if he said nothing, Taxian-jun would continue unhindered. He was talking to someone Xue Meng couldn't see.
But what was he talking about?
Xue Meng's ears were still ringing; he let Taxian-jun's words wash over him, incomprehensible. The man on the throne had eyes so cold and crazed, so dark with conflict and obsession that Xue Meng felt chilled all over. This wasn't his gege. He didn't know this man.
"Are you trying to remind me that he once beat me so hard that I was left covered with cuts and bruises?" Taxian-jun continued malevolently. "That he made me kneel before all to confess my crimes? Or did you want to remind me that for your sake, for the sake of all these insignificant nobodies, he stood in my way at every turn, ruining my great endeavors time and again?"
This tyrant resembled an ailing dragon, desperate to appear fierce even as he lay exhausted in the mud. His mutterings grew increasingly insane. He looked cruel and vicious, but he was so very tired.
"Still," said Taxian-jun. "We were once master and disciple. His body is resting in the Red Lotus Pavilion at the southern peak. He's been very well-preserved and lies there among the lotus blossoms, looking like he's only fallen asleep. His corpse is maintained by my spiritual powers. If you miss him, don't waste your breath here with me. Go now, before I die."
Xue Meng climbed the steps of the dais, Xuehuang clenched in his clammy hand. "What are you talking about?"
Who died in the last life?
Whose corpse rested in the Red Lotus Pavilion?
Whose corpse was maintained by Emperor Taxian-jun's spiritual powers to keep from rotting… Who?
Between Taxian-jun's ravings and the grave he'd seen at the Heaven-Piercing Tower, Xue Meng knew the answer in his heart. But shards of ice seemed to stab through his temples, preventing him from thinking; he was shaking so hard his lips were quivering.
Who was dead… Who was dead?!
Xue Meng's features twisted. He charged up the dais and grabbed Mo Ran's collar, but his fingers slipped through the illusion. Taxian-jun's face was inches from his. "Go," Taxian-jun rasped. "Go see him. Without my spiritual powers, he'll turn to dust. If you don't make it before I die, it'll be too late."
Taxian-jun closed his eyes in exhaustion. The poison was doing its fatal work. But Xue Meng's eyes were wide open, his whole body shuddering. How had things come to this? What absurd history had played out in this world? "You killed him?" Xue Meng's voice cracked, on the verge of breaking. "You killed him?"
No one answered.
"Were you reborn knowing everything? Did you know it all from the start?"
Of course there was no response—but Xue Meng's questions flooded out of him. Many answers in this world brought no relief, only more suffering. But the questions still had to be asked. Cruel truths or tender lies—between the two, which was an act of love and which of hate?
"If you knew…why did you lie to us? Ge, how could you… How could you lie to us?"
The tyrant's twitching face was right there before him. Nobody looked good in the throes of a poisoning; blood trickled from the corner of Taxian-jun's mouth. He pushed himself upright, staggering to his feet, and shuffled out of the hall.
"Where are you going?" Xue Meng reached out toward that insubstantial figure. "What do—"
His hands grasped something warm. Xue Meng flinched, and the floral scent around him faded. The black-and-gold silhouette walking into the dark shattered.
"Mo Ran?!"
Mo Ran was gone. So was the illusion. Something in Xue Meng felt broken beyond repair. Illusion or dreamscape, past or present—which was real, which fake? The Space-Time Gate had merged past and present lifetimes into one. Which events were real, which Mo Ran was true, which self was his own?
Misery etched pitiful lines into his gaunt face. Even his eyes were dull and lost. When his pupils finally focused, they held Mei Hanxue's reflection.
"Wakey-wakey." Mei Hanxue stood in front of him with his brother at his side. He let go of his hand and flicked him on the forehead. Xue Meng winced. "It's over."
Xue Meng took a moment to struggle back his senses. "I'm sorry…" he gasped.
Mei Hanxue pursed his lips. "Nothing to apologize for. Fog like this is really strange. The more you have on your mind, the scarier the illusion it'll form."
Glassy-eyed, Xue Meng looked up at him. He still disliked talking to Mei Hanxue, but right now he was the only stable presence among so much formless shadow. "What about you?" he asked against his will. "What did you see?"
Mei Hanxue's smile came a beat late. "A few hundred women I've angered in the past decade or so. Ah, what a feast for the senses, a sumptuous sight… Little old me was in quite the predicament."
Xue Meng fell silent.
At that moment, all three turned as a colossal explosion erupted somewhere in the back halls.
Mei Hänxue's gaze was frosty. Sword in hand, he called, "Let's go."
Xue Meng and Mei Hanxue followed him through the rain-swept middle hall and into the back of the building. A woman's lithe, white-gold silhouette was racing along the ridge of the roof. When she caught sight of them, she froze and looked down. A flash of lightning illuminated her face.
"Mu Yanli?" Mei Hänxue's tone was stern.
A sharp cry came from ahead. "Ignore them, Mu-jiejie! Run!"
Mu Yanli reluctantly leapt away. By the time Xue Meng and the others caught up, the back hall was in ruins. Broken wood and shattered tile littered the ground; fire licked at the splintered beams and devoured the silk hangings. Red tongues of flame clawed at the sky, black smoke rolling outward like the tide.
Among the wreckage, two swift white shadows clashed in violent combat. Where they went, sparks flew; their silhouettes seemed to weave through the air as fast as lightning, tearing at each other over the ruins of the palace. The howl of the wind was joined by the shriek of clanging metal. As golden light crashed against blue, an explosion sent tiles flying—a massive tree had broken through the earth like a dragon roused. In answer, a blue tidal wave of spiritual energy surged up from the shattered rubble.
The combatants arced through the air, one standing poised atop the skyscraping tree, the other at the crest of the towering wave.
Xue Meng paled. "Shizun!" Regardless of what secrets he'd discovered, worrying about Chu Wanning was an instinct.
Mei Hänxue narrowed his eyes at the swirling maelstrom. "Shi Mingjing…"
Indeed, the one locked in combat with Chu Wanning was his one-time disciple, Shi Mingjing. Yet strangely, Shi Mingjing was enveloped not in his own weak spiritual energy, but in the ferocious power that had once belonged to Taxian-jun. What showed of his skin was covered in black curse marks, his meridians terrifyingly prominent.
Xue Meng charged toward them. "What's going on?! Shi Mei, Shi—"
There was another boom, and Xue Meng was sent flying backward, outside the range of their battle. He staggered upright to see a golden barrier covered in haitang flowers blocking his way.
Chu Wanning was sickly pale. "Stay back," he commanded.
Mei Hanxue stepped up beside Xue Meng. He studied Shi Mei's spiritual energy flow, unnaturally strong, and furrowed his brow. "How odd. He's using his usual water-type attacks, but the energy released belongs to someone else entirely."
A mere few moments had passed, but Chu Wanning and Shi Mingjing had already traded a dozen more thunderous blows. Neither held anything back; the force of their spiritual energy was so suffocating the other three could hardly breathe.
Willow vines flared beneath the Beidou Immortal's feet. In his hand was the golden sword Huaisha; the sword flashed, illuminating eyes sharper than the blade itself. He soared through the sky like a swallow, bringing Huaisha down on Shi Mingjing.
"Chu Wanning!" came Shi Mei's twisted howl of fury. "I spared you in both lifetimes, yet this is how you repay me?!"
His fingers formed a sigil; a deep blue barrier unfolded in front of Shi Mei, taking the brunt of Chu Wanning's attack. Yet the barrier hadn't appeared out of thin air. It sprang from the scabbardless long blade locked against Huaisha—Bugui. Taxian-jun's brutal strength coursed through Shi Mei's body. Even Bugui had misidentified its owner, accepting his summons and fighting on his behalf.
Shadows flitted through Chu Wanning's eyes. "No," he said. "You killed me in both."
He withdrew his radiant golden sword. Shi Mei's barrier was already beginning to crack. Chu Wanning whirled in midair and landed a brutal kick on the largest fissure. He sprang back, then shot forward again, Huaisha extended.
Thunder roared overhead. Heavy black clouds rolled across the sky, and in that storm that threatened to tear the world apart, Huaisha slammed through Shi Mei's barrier.
Shi Mei raised Bugui to block, but he was no Mo Weiyu. He couldn't withstand Huaisha's power. The long blade fell from his hands point-first, sinking into the ground with a drawn-out scrape of metal as the golden holy weapon stabbed toward Shi Mei's ribs.
"Mngh…" Shi Mei had flinched aside just in time. The blade missed his heart, but he was too late to avoid it entirely. Blood sprayed as Huaisha pierced Shi Mei's shoulder with the sound of tearing flesh, crimson streaming back along the blade and into Chu Wanning's palm.
Shi Mei collapsed, sprawled among the rubble. Yet after only a moment, he pressed a hand over the wound and crawled back to his feet. Fury and malevolence glittered in his eyes. "Why must you try to stop me? What's the use in it?! Will the dead return to life? Will your lives be improved?! Will these worlds go back to how they were?!"
Chu Wanning fluttered down from the skies and landed lightly on his toes. He stood amidst the rubble, soaked from head to toe and bleeding from his wounds, and regarded Shi Mei with deadened eyes. He looked nothing like the usual Chu Wanning. He'd meant what he said. The Flower of Eightfold Sorrows had consumed the man he loved, so he'd died by Shi Mingjing's hand in both lifetimes. This one and the last.
"It's too late! Don't you know you could've stopped all this?!" Shi Mei howled, teeth bared. His eyes were crazed. Rain poured down around them, but it couldn't douse the fires of his hatred. "When you opened the Space-Time Gate in the previous life and went to the past, you should've killed Mo Ran—torn him to shreds and burned him until only ash remained! You could've killed him then and there!"
Chu Wanning's eyes were as cold as ice.
"Redemption? A second chance? Ridiculous! You wanted to save him, you didn't want to kill him—and that's how I got my hands on his newly strengthened spiritual core! It was only because of you that I could reforge Emperor Taxian-jun and bring us this far!"
Shi Mei burst out laughing. His relentless stare held all the venom of snake fangs and scorpion stingers, dripping poison. He gnashed his teeth. "Because you couldn't bear to do it. Didn't you want to stop me? If you'd resolved yourself to kill him then, that would have been the end. What room would there have been for me?!
"You're the one who doomed these worlds! So what if you're Yuheng of the Night Sky, the Beidou Immortal—what did you accomplish? Nothing! I only figured out the first forbidden technique by studying your rift in space-time—without it, how would I have managed to open the Space-Time Gate of Life and Death? You've played your part in destroying the world—"
His raucous laughter clung to him like a spiderweb, circled him like a vulture. Shi Mei collapsed, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. The demonic markings on his body were fading, but he didn't care. He was bent on using the cruelest words he knew to condemn the man in front of him. Whatever bygone love or affection he'd had for Chu Wanning disappeared in the pouring rain. He'd underestimated Chu Wanning, or overestimated himself. He'd been arrogant, convinced he could turn Chu Wanning into his own plaything. As long as he kept him on a tight leash, there was no harm in preserving him as a pet. There was no need to end his life. But now—
"If I could do it all over again…" Cold malice shone in those peach-blossom eyes. Shi Mei's hand tightened on his bloody shoulder. "I would've killed you for sure."
The last of the curse marks disappeared from his skin. That powerful spiritual energy drained away from Shi Mei's body. He slumped backward, reduced once again to an ordinary Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast. Shi Mei panted for breath, staring at Chu Wanning through the falling rain.
He'd used the last lethal weapon he had—Divine Borrowing. It was a technique he'd used once before, in front of the reborn Mo Ran at the inn on Rainbell Isle. It wasn't much of an attack, just a magical pill made using Emperor Taxian-jun's blood. With it, he could use Mo Ran's strength for half an hour. And really, not all of Mo Ran's power—a bit less, but enough in many critical situations.
But his time had run out, and he had failed to defeat Chu Wanning. He was out of options. He knew that all too well.
Xue Meng's scalp prickled. Bewildered, he rasped, "Shizun…? Shi Mei?"
Shi Mei had fallen not far from where Xue Meng was standing. Xue Meng had spoken at no more than a murmur, but Shi Mei heard him and turned.
Their eyes met; Xue Meng's mind went blank. Shi Mei watched him for a beat, eyes glittering. A miserable smile unfurled on that impossibly beautiful face. "Young master…" he whispered.
Xue Meng flinched. Shi Mei's eyes were still those eyes he remembered; his face was still that face from his past. He was so fragile and wretched. He didn't say anything but reached out wordlessly. Xue Meng was standing right by the barrier. If he took even one step closer—no, half a step would be enough—Shi Mei could…
Bugui, stuck in the ground nearby, suddenly radiated a blinding light. Everyone stared in shock, all eyes going to that blade of a thousand battles. It flickered from crimson-red to jade-green and back over a dozen times before a powerful force burst from it.
"Watch out!" cried Mei Hanxue. He grabbed Xue Meng, who'd nearly stepped out of the barrier, and yanked him backward. They watched as Bugui broke through the earth and flew into the raging storm. It streaked like a shooting star toward the forbidden area at the rear of the mountain, leaving a trail of fleeting brilliance in its wake.
The cultivators that had marched on the mountain and engaged the horde of pawns watched it arc across the sky in shock.
"What was that?!"
"What's going on?!"
Shi Mei narrowed his eyes. He lay on the ground, watching the crimson light flickering in the back mountain. The red light filled his pupils. Curling his fingers into fists, Shi Mei closed his eyes and probed for the source.
A moment later, his eyes flew open, his face alight with mad glee. "Taxian-jun!"
Chu Wanning whirled, his face ashen.
Shi Mei started to laugh, a predatory glint in his eyes. "He survived…ha ha ha… He survived!"
Somehow, he mustered the strength to get to his feet. Before anyone could move, he'd tapped his acupoints to stop his bleeding—with a whirl of his blood-soaked robes, he leapt up to the roof and threw himself into the gardens and away.
"Shizun…" Xue Meng called weakly.
But Chu Wanning couldn't tarry. He turned to Xue Meng, then to Mei Hanxue. "Please take care of him."
He sprang into the air after Shi Mei.
Shi Mei was quick and lithe; he rivaled his teacher in skill with the qinggong lightness technique. The two of them sped along. Shi Mei couldn't shake Chu Wanning off his tail, but Chu Wanning couldn't catch him either. In the blink of an eye, they gained the back mountains.
The scene that greeted them brought them both to a screeching halt, breathless with shock.