Chapter 58: Love’s End, the Azure Nether’s Path; A Heartless Man, the Law’s Ruthless Way (Part 3)
by GideonAfter several days of rest, the injured disciples from the various sects gradually recovered. On the afternoon of the twenty-first day of the eighth lunar month, the monks of Huaguang Temple arrived at the Wumeng Tribe.
Leading the monks to reinforce the major sects was Shiyuan, the Lord of Dharma Hall. His senior brother, Shiqing, had colluded with Huiming to harm countless women, children, and infants, and had already been strangled to death by Lan Yulang. The current Abbot was his senior uncle, Huizhen.
Shiyuan and Wen Jin had become acquainted after a fight. Meeting again, Shiyuan was much more amiable toward Wen Jin. He punched the young man’s shoulder, only to be startled by the fullness of his True Qi, as if striking a solid rock. “You brat, I haven’t seen you for a few days, and your Internal Energy has already become this profound!”
Wen Jin scratched his head and smiled honestly. “Grandmaster, you flatter me.”
Shiyuan asked again, “Where is your scholar friend? How are his meridians recovering?”
Wen Jin’s smile stiffened slightly. “He is no longer in any danger. Thank you for your concern, Grandmaster.”
Shiyuan scanned the crowd and greeted everyone. Finally, he turned to Murong Yi. “Alliance Leader Murong, why is there no sign of anyone from the Crescent Moon Pavilion? Does Ye Zhaobai not plan to join us in eradicating demons and defending the Way?”
Murong Yi said, “The Pavilion Master of the Crescent Moon Pavilion is an unpredictable man. But as a prominent family in the martial world, they surely won’t stand idly by. I’m sure he will appear when the time is ripe.”
Shiyuan fumed, “We’ve already fought our way to the Demonic Cult’s doorstep! Is the time not ripe enough?”
Feng Qiya smiled. “Grandmaster Shiyuan, please calm your anger. The Demonic Cult’s forces are now fractured and divided. Many seek Lan Yulang’s life. How could we not defeat him if we combine our strength?”
Wen Jin caught the implication in his words and immediately asked Murong Yi, “Uncle Murong, did the Martial Arts Alliance receive a secret message from someone to launch this surprise attack?”
Murong Yi replied, “The Evil Ways are for everyone to execute. Who needs a secret message to do so?”
“Indeed,” Shiyuan added. “The Heaven-Seizing Cult has committed countless atrocities. Who among the martial world does not wish to see them destroyed? Young Master Wen, you witnessed Lan Yulang’s ruthless nature when he murdered my senior brother. The Wumeng Tribe’s two sects were crushed in a single blow by Lan Yulang, creating the perfect opportunity for the Central Plains Martial World to strike.”
Wen Jin’s expression turned grave and righteous. “Shiqing and Huiming deserved to die. Even if Lan Yulang hadn’t killed them, Uncle Murong would never have let them go!”
Linghu Xuantong coughed a few times, his face darkening. Wen Jin instinctively lowered his head and fell silent.
The statement was not wrong. Shiqing and Huiming had committed countless atrocities; even if Lan Yulang had not intervened, how could the people of Tang Province ever let the matter rest? How could the Martial Arts Alliance ever let it rest? Shiyuan was momentarily speechless, his mouth opening and closing, but in the end, he had nothing to say.
At the fourth watch, the camp was utterly silent, yet Wen Jin tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He thought back to the day Lan Yulang had risked everything to find him, his white robes stained with blood on the back. He must have been gravely injured. He wondered if, after all these days, he had finally recovered.
He rolled back and forth, making the simple wooden bed creak. Murong Qishu, who lay on the adjacent bed, murmured half-asleep, “Little ancestor, why aren’t you sleeping yet? Are you practicing martial arts on the bed?”
Feng Shulou, on the other bed, was also awakened by their voices. He groped in the dark, looking over. “Xiao Jin, what’s wrong?”
Wen Jin stammered, “I… I need to relieve myself.”
Murong Qishu rolled over. “You’re not a child anymore. Do you need someone to hold your bedpan for you?”
Wen Jin immediately got out of bed, grabbed No Envy of Immortals, and stepped out of the tent.
The moon hung high in the sky. He leaped onto a maple tree, concealing himself among the branches. Just as he settled, he saw two figures approaching from the east. Their weapons glinted under the cold moonlight, imposing and sharp. They were the disciples of Canglan Pavilion on their night patrol.
Once the two figures had moved far enough away, Wen Jin leaped to another tree and waited for a moment. Just as he was about to find an opportunity to slip out of the camp, two swishes sounded. Two Canglan Pavilion disciples leaped down from a maple tree ten feet away, swords drawn, and headed north.
Besides the Canglan Pavilion disciples, there were also elite guards from Fengyue City, all weaving between the trees. Wen Jin watched, stunned. When did the camp’s security become so tight? he wondered. They’re even inspecting the surrounding trees to prevent Demonic Cult members from hiding among them.
Seeing this, he dared not move forward. If he were to alert Uncle Murong and his Master, he feared he would not be able to explain himself.
After a moment’s thought, Wen Jin had no choice but to retreat the way he had come.
As he turned, a black shadow flashed past. The patrolling disciple had spotted the anomaly and immediately gave chase. “Who’s there?!”
Seeing the rare opportunity and taking advantage of the laxer security, Wen Jin immediately stepped on the wind and vanished into the forest. His movements were swift and agile. In no time, he reached the cliff at the foot of the Heaven-Seizing Cult’s mountain and rode an Azure Eagle into the cult.
He had not told Murong Yi and the others that Lan Xiangru was the Cult Leader of the Heaven-Seizing Cult, and Lan Yulang had also kept his identity a secret. Thus, when he returned to the Holy Cult late at night, not only did he avoid alerting the guards, but he was also respectfully escorted into the cult.
He did not go to the Spirit Knowledge Hall. Instead, he went straight to Green Rock Residence, his movements practiced and familiar.
After several days’ absence, the place had lost all traces of life. The room was dark and silent, no longer the scene of someone sitting by a lamp, reading a storybook.
Wen Jin pushed open the ajar door and lit the oil lamp. The simple bedroom had been kept in perfect order. The bedding was laundered and still carried a faint scent of soap pods, and the table was dusted clean, as if someone had been here to sweep and tidy.
His legs moved him toward the bed of their own accord. His palm brushed the tassels on the bed curtains, and he let out a sigh so faint it was almost imperceptible.
Suddenly, a voice asked, “What are you sighing for?”
The voice was all too familiar. Wen Jin spun around to see Lan Yulang standing at the doorway, his white robes fluttering, his figure as slender and elegant as a bamboo shoot.
“You… why are you here?” Wen Jin’s chest ached with a strange tightness, unable to tell if it was joy or some other emotion.
Lan Yulang walked forward and gently pulled him into an embrace. “No rustle in the wind escapes my notice, let alone your return.”
Wen Jin’s hands hung suspended in the air for a long moment before he finally brought them around to hug the man. Pressing his fingertips against Lan Yulang’s back, he asked, “How is your injury?”
Lan Yulang released him, then cupped his face. “Did you come back because you were worried about me?”
“No, I did not…” Wen Jin pried his hands away and lowered his head, turning to walk toward the door. “I must go. If Master finds out I snuck into the Demonic Cult, he will break my legs.”
But before he could take a single step, Lan Yulang yanked him onto the bed. With a thud, he fell back into the mattress.
The pure white figure pressed down from above, pinning him tightly. Lan Yulang’s kisses fell upon his lips with a ruthless persistence, their force so fierce it left his lips red, swollen, and engorged with blood in an instant. Saliva seeped from the corner of his mouth, trickling down his cheek to vanish into the hair at the nape of his neck.
Lan Yulang pried open the youth’s teeth, biting down on the soft tongue that tried to flee. Sensing the boy tremble yet not resist, he called out softly, “Jinjin, Jinjin.”
Wen Jin gasped out a response. “Mm.”
Lan Yulang took his hand, guiding it to untie the sash at his waist, whispering against his ear. “Do you want to see the wounds on my body?”
Wen Jin’s breath came hot and quick, like a summer rain splashing against Lan Yulang’s neck. “Yu Lang.”
Lan Yulang froze for a moment, his face lifting to gaze at him. “What did you call me?”
Wen Jin fell silent.
Lan Yulang cooed, “Call me that again.”
Wen Jin’s ears flushed crimson, yet he refused to speak another word.
Lan Yulang relented, no longer pressuring him. “Jinjin, will you stay with me tonight?”
“I cannot stay long. My master… he forbids me from seeing you.” Wen Jin lowered his gaze, his voice a fragile whisper. “My master has already told me. Mu Zhenzhen is indeed my mother. She and my father met a tragic end because they walked the divergent paths of righteous and demonic cultivation. I do not wish to—”
“Jinjin,” Lan Yulang interrupted, “your parents’ deaths were not caused by my master. There must be a hidden truth behind this; you cannot blindly believe the words of others.”
Wen Jin stared at him blankly. “My master raised me. He would never lie to me.”
“I understand the weight of such a debt—the bond between teacher and father,” Lan Yulang said. “But I fear your master only knows the surface of this matter, not its true depths.”
Wen Jin asked, “How can you be so sure your master was not the killer?”
Lan Yulang replied, “Though my master has slain countless men, he is a man of unwavering integrity. If he claims your esteemed father did not die by his hand, he speaks the truth.”
Wen Jin watched him intently, his lips trembling as if he had much to say but could not find the words.
“The line between black and white is easily blurred to deceive the heart.” Lan Yulang gently stroked his brow, his voice a soft sigh. “The righteous factions of the martial world are full of hypocrites. Jinjin, you must be careful. Do not trust them completely.”
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