Chapter 68: A Heart Exchanged for Life, a Master’s Boundless Grace; Two Shadows Fly Together, Their Love Enduring Forever (Part Two)
by GideonWen Jin returned to the Glazed Palace, the marriage contract tucked away in his robes. He clung to a sliver of hope, constantly imagining that Lan Yulang might wake up unexpectedly. Yet the heart that had been shattered by a sharp sword had already frozen into shards of ice. If not for the Ice Bed’s protection, his beloved would have long since turned into a pile of white bones.
Three days later, in the early morning, Wen Jin was curled up asleep in a lounge chair in the corner of the room. Suddenly, he heard two sets of footsteps approaching from outside the stone door. He woke instantly, throwing off the warm cashmere blanket and standing up.
A few breaths later, there was a knock on the stone door. Wen Jin assumed it was a disciple from the sect delivering his breakfast as usual, so he unlocked the mechanism. To his surprise, the two people waiting outside were Lan Yulang’s masters. The young man’s drowsiness vanished instantly. He hastily turned his back to them, tidying his disheveled hair before turning around with a bashful smile. “Martial Uncle, Uncle Jun…”
Mu Fushuang handed the food container to Wen Jin. “Your Uncle Jun personally prepared today’s breakfast. The Ice Chamber is too cold; these dishes will cool down the moment they are taken out. Go eat outside. After you’re finished, return to the Spirit Knowledge Hall and bring back a set of clean clothes for Yulang. Your Uncle Jun and I wish to stay here and keep him company for a while longer.”
Without a hint of suspicion, Wen Jin happily accepted the food box. “Thank you, Uncle Jun,” he said, before striding away.
Jun Lan had prepared a lavish breakfast, all cooked according to Wen Jin’s preferences. Late autumn in Jiangnan was the perfect time to harvest water chestnuts. The food box contained a bowl of sweet, fragrant soup, the water chestnuts cooked soft and glutinous, yet springy to the bite, leaving a lingering fragrance between the lips. It was the same taste he had eaten since childhood.
After finishing the sweet soup, Wen Jin took out the meat porridge from the food box and ate heartily, pairing it with pickled vegetables.
The Shark Oil Lamps in the Glazed Underground Palace burned eternally. A faint draft seeped through the cracks in the secret passage above, causing the flames to dance and sway.
He sat cross-legged under the lamp, scooping a few spoonfuls of thick porridge with a spoon. A thought suddenly struck him—Jun Lan had used the Heart-Devouring Gu to reconnect his meridians years ago. Now, the Gu insect was backlashing, devouring his lifespan. He was already at the end of his rope, a lamp running out of oil. Mu Fushuang had ordered him to stay on No Regrets Peak for a long time precisely to prevent any accidents. Yet, in just a few short days, he had twice sneaked into the bottom of the lake and gone to the Cold Chamber in person. Even if he cherished his disciple, Mu Fushuang would never easily let him gamble with his own life.
Suspicion filled Wen Jin’s heart. As if realizing something, he immediately put down his bowl and chopsticks, rose to his feet, and hurried toward the Glazed Inner Palace.
But the moment he rose, his vision went black, and the world spun violently.
In an instant, he collapsed, his strength drained as if sucked from his very bones. He couldn’t move an inch. Wen Jin tried to cry out, but his voice failed him. A wave of inexplicable terror washed over him, bringing hot tears to his eyes.
The young man circulated his qi internally, trying to expel the drug from his system. But Jun Lan’s concoction was too potent; it had sealed away nearly all his cultivation power. Gritting his teeth, he forced his internal force to flow, his forehead glistening with sweat as the veins on his temples bulged in a strained, grotesque display.
He struggled for over an hour to no avail. The stone door to the ice chamber remained shut, and neither Mu Fushuang nor Jun Lan emerged.
Driven by desperation, he forced his internal force to break through the seal, expelling the drug from his body inch by agonizing inch. The moment sensation returned to his limbs, he charged into the Glazed Palace without hesitation.
The stone door swung open at his touch. Wen Jin strode inside, met by a pungent, metallic stench of blood.
Lan Yulang still lay on the ice bed, his upper body bare. His chest, pale and nearly translucent, bore no trace of any wound.
Mu Fushuang knelt before the bed, Jun Lan cradled in his arms. Wen Jin couldn’t see his martial uncle’s face, but he could tell the man’s body was trembling.
The young man rushed forward, his lips parting to call out “Martial Uncle,” only to stop short. Jun Lan’s green robes were stained crimson, and his face was as pale as paper.
“Uncle Jun!” Wen Jin fell to his knees beside him, tears streaming down his face. “What have you done… why?”
Jun Lan, with his last breath, forced the words out. “Xiao Jin, take Yulang back to Spirit Knowledge Hall. He just had a heart transplant… he cannot… lie on an ice bed for long.”
Wen Jin raised his sleeve to wipe his tears, then covered his face and sobbed quietly.
Jun Lan turned to Mu Fushuang, a faint smile on his lips. “I told you to give Xiao Jin more medicine, but you refused to listen.”
Wen Jin suddenly prostrated himself, weeping bitterly on the ground. “Uncle Jun…”
Jun Lan’s eyelids fluttered shut, his breathing growing shallow. “Fushuang, Xiao Jin… do not let Yulang know I am dead. From now on… he must never set foot on No Regrets Peak.”
Wen Jin understood his meaning. He hurriedly pulled the marriage contract from his robes and unfurled it with trembling hands. “Uncle Jun, this is the marriage contract between Yulang and me. Both our parents are gone. You and Martial Uncle are our only elders. Our marriage still needs your blessing… You cannot…”
“I grant it,” Jun Lan said. “You and he… from this day forward, you shall support each other and grow old together.”
Wen Jin froze, unable to find words, and let his tears fall.
Jun Lan turned his gaze to Mu Fushuang and spoke softly, “Fushuang, take care of yourself. In our next life… we…”
Before he could finish, his eyes closed.
Mu Fushuang stared blankly at the man in his arms, speechless.
After a long moment, he rose, cradling Jun Lan. His voice was so hoarse it was barely recognizable. “Child, take Yulang back.”
Wen Jin nodded through his tears. He knelt and knocked his head three times on the ground in a final farewell to Mu Fushuang’s departing figure, then turned to carry Lan Yulang away from the Glazed Palace, returning to the Spirit Knowledge Hall.
Jun Lan had once been the Priest of the Heaven-Seizing Cult, a master of the Art of Shamanic Gu. Though he had performed the heart transplant for Lan Yulang, the young man would still need the meticulous care of the Cult’s witch doctors to fully recover.
With Duan now attending to Lan Yulang, Wen Jin hurried to No Regrets Peak to help Mu Fushuang arrange Jun Lan’s funeral.
Jun Lan was buried on the southern slope behind the wooden cottage. The area was lush with flowers and trees—a place where he had always loved to drink tea and bask in the sun. Now that he slept here eternally, he could keep the mountain breeze for company and gaze upon the sea of clouds at the peak’s summit.
Clad in coarse hemp mourning robes, Wen Jin burned two baskets of gold ingots before the grave. When he looked up, he saw Mu Fushuang standing to the left of the tomb, a jar of wine in his hand. His expression was numb, his eyes brimming with sorrow.
The Cult Leader was over forty, yet he had maintained his youthful and handsome appearance. However, after his lover’s passing, he had aged several-fold overnight, his jet-black temples now frosted with white.
Wen Jin knew that any words of comfort would seem superfluous and hollow at this moment. He chose to remain silent, keeping his head bowed as he quietly burned the gold ingots, staying until darkness fell before finally taking his leave.
“Xiao Jin,” Mu Fushuang called out just as he was about to depart. “Remove your mourning clothes. Don’t let anyone notice anything amiss.”
Wen Jin nodded, shedding the coarse linen robes. He gave his senior uncle a deep bow. “Senior Uncle, please take care of yourself. I will come to see you again tomorrow.”
Mu Fushuang gave a faint smile. “Take good care of Yulang.”
“I will,” Wen Jin replied.
Two days after the heart transplant, Lan Yulang finally woke up. Wen Jin wept with joy, sitting by the bed and laughing through his tears. Lan Yulang spoke, calling his name, “Jinjin.”
“I’m here, I’m here.” Wen Jin carefully patted and stroked him all over. “Do you feel any discomfort? Does it hurt? How is your breathing?”
Lan Yulang raised a hand to gently caress his face, asking a question instead of answering. “Why have you grown so thin?”
Wen Jin fiercely wiped away his tears and began to settle the score. “How could you take it upon yourself to plant that kind of gu in me?”
Lan Yulang replied, “Rather than let me be the one to live as a widower, I’d rather exchange your life for mine.”
Lan Yulang’s words effectively silenced Wen Jin’s fury. The thought that someone else was now the one left widowed filled Wen Jin with a fresh wave of secret sorrow.
He had promised Jun Lan that he would not reveal the news of his death to Lan Yulang. But Lan Yulang was a clever man; such a secret could be kept for a time, but not forever. One day, he would learn that his life had been bought with his master’s, and when that day came, he would surely be consumed by guilt.
Sure enough, the next moment, Lan Yulang asked, “Jinjin, the Life and Death Gu has no cure. How did I survive?”
Wen Jin began to spin a tale. “I knelt before the statue of Nuwa every day, praying to her. Perhaps my sincerity moved the Goddess Nuwa, for she used her divine power to grant you new life, returning you to the world of the living so we could be reunited.”
Lan Yulang’s gaze was skeptical. Wen Jin, his conscience pricked, hurriedly grasped Lan Yulang’s hand and leaned in to kiss it. “Yu Lang, you have left me terrified for so many days. You must never act so recklessly again. You should consult me on all matters, after all, we are…”
Seeing him falter, Lan Yulang pressed, “We are what?”
Wen Jin’s cheeks flushed. “We are sworn brothers who share our hearts and livers.”
Lan Yulang replied, “So, sworn brothers who share their hearts and livers can also make love.”
Wen Jin: “…”
Lan Yulang pushed himself up from the bed, his elbow bracing his weight. His body felt stiff and numb from lying on the ice-cold bed for so many days, and his legs moved with great difficulty. Wen Jin sat on the edge of the bed, gently massaging his legs to clear his meridians.
“Jinjin, accompany me to see Master,” Lan Yulang said, leaning on the young man’s arm as he stumbled forward. “I need to let them know I am safe.”
Wen Jin’s heart tightened, but he dared not let a single flaw show on his face. “Your body is still weak. You should rest a little longer. I can go to No Regrets Peak in your stead.”
Lan Yulang agreed. “Very well. It will not be too late to go after two days of recuperation.”
After Wen Jin had attended to his meal, he hurried to Mirror Flower Lake. He boarded a painted pleasure boat to enter the cave, then operated the mechanism to ascend to the peak.
No Regrets Peak was inhabited only by Jun Lan and Mu Fushuang; ordinarily, no outsiders ever visited, save for Lan Yulang. It was now late autumn, and the path was covered in a thick layer of fallen leaves, adding to the desolate atmosphere.
Wen Jin followed the pebble path all the way to the maplewood cottage. Seeing the doors and windows tightly shut, he assumed Mu Fushuang was resting. He knocked on the door and said respectfully, “Senior Uncle, your junior Wen Jin requests an audience.”
There was no answer from within.
Wen Jin repeated, “Senior Uncle, Wen Jin requests an audience.”
The only response was the rustle of several branches swaying in the mountain wind.
A sudden, inexplicable dread seized his heart. Without a second thought, Wen Jin pushed open the door. But the sparse, tidy room was empty. Instead, a single letter on the table drew his gaze.
He rushed forward, his eyes falling upon four characters written in a vigorous, elegant hand: To my dear nephew, Wen Jin.
The young man stood frozen before the table. After a long moment of hesitation, he unfolded the letter:
My dear Xiao Jin, by the time you read this, I will have already followed A-Jun into the afterlife. From this day forth, I hope you will take good care of yourself and work with Yulang to manage the sect’s affairs, ensuring our order prospers. If you do so, I can depart without regret, knowing I have fulfilled my duty to your grandfather and your mother.
Wen Jin felt as if he had been struck by five thunderbolts. He froze, unable to move or even think for a long time.
Finally, he crumpled the letter with his Internal Energy, then turned and sprinted toward the southern slope. “Martial Uncle! Martial Uncle!”
The youth’s frantic flight kicked up gusts of withered leaves. When he reached Jun Lan’s grave, he saw Mu Fushuang slumped against the left side of the tombstone. His forehead rested against the cold stone, his face ashen, his hand still clutching a freshly picked bouquet of flowers.
“Martial Uncle…” Wen Jin strode forward and reached out to check the man’s breath. Then, with a heavy thud, he collapsed to his knees, tears streaming down his face like a broken dam.
“Why did it have to be like this?” he cried out, his voice raw with anguish. “Martial Uncle, Uncle Jun… how am I supposed to face Yulang now?”
Wen Jin collapsed before the grave, consumed by grief. Yet he feared that lingering too long would arouse Lan Yulang’s suspicion. He raised his sleeve to wipe away his tears, then carried Mu Fushuang’s body back to the house to tend to it with meticulous care.
Late that night, while Lan Yulang was sound asleep, Wen Jin sealed his acupoints. He then made his way to No Regrets Peak, where he buried Mu Fushuang and Jun Lan together. Only at dawn did he return to Spirit Knowledge Hall, collapsing in exhaustion beside Lan Yulang and falling asleep fully clothed.
After several days of recuperation, Lan Yulang’s strength had fully returned. He prepared to visit No Regrets Peak to pay his respects to his two masters, but Wen Jin hastily stopped him. “Yu Lang, there is a matter I wish to discuss with you.”
Lan Yulang looked at him in surprise. “What is it?”
Wen Jin produced the marriage contract he had prepared in advance and handed it to him. Lan Yulang examined it carefully, a slight smile touching his lips. “Young Hero Wen, are you planning to give me a formal title?”
“Tower Master Ye is your blood uncle,” Wen Jin explained. “Matters of marriage should be decided by one’s uncle—especially since he cares for you deeply.”
Lan Yulang nodded. “Very well. We shall visit my uncle first.”
“I also wish to return to Yandang Mountain to establish a cenotaph for my master,” Wen Jin added. “It will allow his soul to return to his ancestral home. While we are there, we can also visit my senior brother and Big Brother Feng.”
Lan Yulang smiled. “As you wish.”
[ Author’s Note ]
Sending out red envelopes!
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