At the same time, at the Cultivation Academy.
Jiang Yexue sat beside a small huanghuali wood table inlaid with spirit jade. The table had thick, bulging legs with inward-curving hoof-shaped feet, while the tabletop frame was set with fine Guiyuan Stones, which flowed with abundant spiritual power.
Because artifact refiners often needed to repair damaged objects, their rooms would invariably contain a similar table that could assist cultivators in reversing the effects of damage. However, the skill level of each artifact refiner differed. Some artifact refiners could only repair a broken bowl, whereas people like Jiang Yexue and Murong Chuyi could restore far, far more.
This technique appeared easy, but in reality, it placed extremely high demands on an artifact refiner. If the flow of spiritual energy deviated even slightly during restoration, it could lead to irreversible consequences. Therefore, if a young cultivator wished to become an artifact refiner, the Academy’s final graduation trial would always include “restoration” as a major examination.
It was said that back then, the eldest son of an artifact-refining family—the man who was now Yue Chenqing’s father, Yue Juntian—had been able to restore 178 damaged magical artifacts within an extremely short period when he graduated, breaking the Academy’s hundred-year record.
Yue Juntian loved boasting about this achievement. He had even once tried to use his youthful glory to intimidate his brother-in-law, Murong Chuyi.
In the end, he only irritated Murong Chuyi so much that Murong Chuyi immediately destroyed more than a thousand precious antiques in the Yue family’s Linglong Pavilion. Then, while Yue Chenqing watched with an ashen face, he restored every single one of those treasures within the time it took for one incense stick to burn, thoroughly humiliating Yue Juntian.
After that, Yue Juntian never mentioned his old achievement at the Academy again.
However, whether it was Murong Chuyi or Yue Juntian, when they had restored objects back then, it had only been to show off their skills. The artifacts had merely been smashed apart casually; they had not been deliberately crushed into countless fragments.
Jiang Yexue was different.
What he was facing at this moment was a pile of historical-record jade slips that had been crushed almost entirely into powder. Not only were they completely shattered, their fragments had also been mixed up in complete disorder.
“…How is it?”
“No wonder the person who destroyed these jade slips didn’t need to take the fragments away.”
Jiang Yexue sighed.
“Historical-record jade slips contain spiritual energy. Even if they are shattered into powder, their location can still easily be detected. After destroying them to this extent, there are probably no more than three people in all of Chonghua who can restore them.”
Mo Xi was silent for a moment before saying, “I won’t be able to conceal the fact that I infiltrated the Censorate Hall for long. Please help me. If you can restore one scroll, restore one scroll. Knowing something is better than knowing nothing at all.”
Jiang Yexue said, “If there really is something hidden behind Brother Gu’s old case, I would also be more than willing to help you uncover it. It’s just…”
Mo Xi’s gaze darkened.
“Can’t they be restored?”
“That’s not it.”
Jiang Yexue stroked the bamboo slips that had been pieced together halfway across the small table.
“But you can see for yourself. At present, I can only restore them into a rough form. I cannot reverse them to their original state. If you want to obtain jade slips that are completely intact, it will take at least a month.”
Mo Xi shook his head.
“We don’t have that much time. The Sovereign will certainly notice what has happened.”
“…”
“I want to know at least part of the hidden truth before he discovers it.”
Mo Xi raised his eyes. The depths of his dark eyes were like an endless night.
“Do you have any other way?”
Jiang Yexue hesitated for a long time. His gaze wandered over Mo Xi’s handsome, deep-set features, fell upon the ribbon binding his hair, and finally lowered again.
He bowed his head and stroked the jade slips without speaking.
Yet Mo Xi caught a trace of hope from his movements and pressed him.
“There is a way, isn’t there?”
Jiang Yexue closed his eyes for a moment. He raised his slender fingers and carefully pieced a fragment into the very edge of one of the jade slips.
“…Yes.”
Before Mo Xi could speak, Jiang Yexue immediately continued, “But Young Lord Xihe, that is too dangerous.”
“How so? Will it cause me to see an incorrect version of the past because the restoration is incomplete? Or will it damage these records so badly that they can never be completely restored?”
Jiang Yexue looked at Mo Xi.
He had rarely seen such an anxious and uncontrolled expression on this man’s face. Yet at this moment, Mo Xi’s face, already haggard from days of torment, carried far too many emotions, making him look somewhat unfamiliar.
Jiang Yexue said, “You won’t be able to withstand it.”
“You know that the Gate of Life and Death Through Space-Time, one of the Three Great Forbidden Arts, has never been completely understood or reproduced by anyone to this day. Yet the Nine Provinces Continent actually possesses countless techniques and magical artifacts derived from the Gate of Life and Death.”
“Most of them have merely inherited some extremely minor detail from it, or restored a rudimentary form of it—just like the Space-Time Mirror you experienced earlier.”
The mist in Mo Xi’s eyes gradually dispersed. He looked toward the scrolls resting on Jiang Yexue’s small table.
“The historical-record jade slips are the same?”
“Yes.”
Jiang Yexue said, “The Gate of Life and Death Through Space-Time is the origin, the Space-Time Mirror is the replication, and these…”
His porcelain-white knuckles tapped lightly against the edge of the table.
“These historical-record jade slips follow the same principle. Regardless of how powerful they are, when traced back to their source, they all originate from the Gate of Life and Death Through Space-Time technique left behind by Fuxi.”
“Regarding this forbidden art, all the legends conceal a divine prophecy—anyone who opens the Gate of Life and Death is destined to meet a terrible end.”
“The Space-Time Mirror and the historical-record jade slips do not possess the Gate of Life and Death’s true ability to reverse the past. Therefore, they cannot curse the lives of those who enter them. But…”
He paused and looked at Mo Xi’s haggard face.
“Every time someone forcibly enters, their body suffers tremendous damage.”
“…You should have already experienced it when you were on Bat Island.”
“…”
“Young Lord Xihe, I have known you for nearly half my life. Your bloodline is pure and your spiritual power astonishing. Thus, no matter how exhausting the battles you faced in the past were, you never revealed any weakness.”
“But when you came out of the Space-Time Mirror, your spiritual energy and your physical condition had both been depleted to their absolute limits.”
Jiang Yexue sighed.
“Do you know what will happen if you rashly enter a historical-record jade slip that has not been completely restored?”
His soft white fingertip slowly traced across the cold, ivory-glowing bamboo slip.
“You may suffer shattered muscles and bones.”
“Or your spiritual core may run wild.”
“I have to go in. I believe Gu Mang had a hidden reason for betraying the country back then.”
—The two of them spoke almost simultaneously, after which the room fell into silence.
Outside the window, the slender bamboo swayed in the wind, rustling softly.
Mo Xi had undoubtedly heard Jiang Yexue’s words clearly. He lowered his eyes, yet said,
“…Brother Jiang. After going around in circles like this, I still choose to believe him.”
Jiang Yexue gazed silently at Mo Xi. His gentle black eyes seemed slightly moist.
“…Mo Xi.”
“…”
“You already believed him once before.”
Eight years ago, in the Golden Hall, the young commander had stood before the civil and military officials of the entire court. He had been overwhelmingly furious and overwhelmingly heartbroken, facing the surrounding pack of wolves and tigers all alone.
Mo Xi’s trembling voice from that time seemed to cross the turbulent river of years and reach their ears once more.
—
“Who betrayed the country? How could Gu Mang possibly betray the country?! Are you people insane? He didn’t betray us when he commanded our entire army. He didn’t betray us when he was surrounded on all sides with his life hanging by a thread. He gave every bit of his sincerity and passion, and spent the best years of his life until they were worn away and rotted away, all for the land beneath our feet. And now you’re pointing at him and saying he’s become a traitor?! Are you insane?!!”
The entire court changed color.
“Young Lord Xihe…”
The Sovereign thundered in fury.
“Mo Xi! Who gave you the courage?!”
Yet Mo Xi was like a lone beast that had lost its companion…
No.
It was far more painful than that kind of loss.
Like an eagle that had lost its wings, Kuafu who had had his legs severed, or an artist who had lost both eyes.
Like an innocent soul having its loyal heart torn out.
That naive, upright, sorrowful young man stood amid accusations and whispers—
He was an outsider who had betrayed his own group among the aristocracy, while those cultivators of servant status led by Gu Mang were destined to be unable to accept him either.
He could only stand alone in the great hall, lonely and motionless, guarding the final ruins left behind by his brother, his lover, and his god.
Mo Xi’s eyes were wet and red. He choked back his tears, yet still said with absolute certainty,
“He won’t betray us.”
“…”
“I am willing to stake my life on this oath for him. I will vouch for him.”
“He will definitely come back…”
In truth, even Mo Xi himself did not know whether those words had been spoken for the Sovereign to hear, or whether they were the final comfort he was giving himself.
Jiang Yexue sighed and repeated softly,
“You already believed him once.”
“That time, you nearly lost your life because of it. And now you want to believe him a second time, to investigate a truth that isn’t even certain?”
Mo Xi was silent for a moment before saying,
“…Back then, on the Dongting warship, I said something to him.”
Another string of candle tears fell, flowing into the depths of the lotus-shaped lamp and quietly gathering into a pool.
“I told him that as long as he could turn back, everything would be fine.”
Mo Xi closed his eyes, clasped his hands together before his brow, and lowered his head, speaking softly.
“As long as he could turn back, even if he killed me, so be it. My life, my glory… none of it would matter to me anymore.”
“But he didn’t.”
“He used that one slash to sever everything between us, then used the heads of a million cultivators to tell me that he had chosen a path of revenge.”
“All these years, he has killed countless cultivators of Chonghua. How many people have died by his hand?”
“When the sons and daughters of those nobles sacrificed their lives, their relatives and parents would come curse me, come hate me—saying that I had vouched for a vengeful ghost back then, saying that my brother had caused countless villages in Chonghua to be razed to the ground and countless common people to lose their families…”
“They all said I was blind, that I had been blinded by my heart…”
“Debt after debt of blood was placed before me, yet I still didn’t dare face him. I was unwilling to fight a battle against him.”
When the man spoke to this point, despite desperately restraining himself because of the nobility and pride in his bones, his voice was trembling.
Jiang Yexue could hear the sob caught in his throat, like a jar of wine that had remained unopened for eight years, soaking its throat and vocal cords until they had become too bitter to produce a proper sound.
Mo Xi slowly opened his eyes and gave a hoarse, self-mocking laugh.
“They were never wrong to curse me.”
“All these years, I knew that he owed Chonghua tens of thousands of lives.”
“I walked through towns and villages burned by war. I saw cultivators lying in pools of blood, their intestines torn open and devoured by jackals and wolves. I saw wives who had lost their husbands, old men who had lost their sons, and children sitting beside their parents’ corpses, crying.”
Mo Xi’s index finger painfully rubbed and pressed against his brow.
“For all these years, who could I tell these things to?”
He had endured.
He had held himself together.
He had supported everything.
Others still had wives, children, fathers, and mothers.
What did he have?
Even the only light and warmth he had possessed in his entire life had become his darkness.
What did he have left…
Only today, when he had finally gambled everything on exchanging it for a hope that might not even be real, could Mo Xi finally tell Jiang Yexue some of these things.
His shoulders trembled faintly. His voice was so hoarse that its original tone was almost unrecognizable.
“I have seen the remains of a deputy general who was torn apart alive. I have seen corpses enough to fill a river—it was done by the person I protected.”
“He did it with the cultivators of the Liao Kingdom…”
Mo Xi sorrowfully closed his eyes.
“Do you know what that feels like?”
It was as though all the unjustly dead souls had gathered around him, spitting curses at him, condemning him, wailing at him, begging him for help, demanding his life, screaming as they tore out his heart and blood—
Your Gu Mang, your lighthouse, the person you once admired and cherished most in this life, killed us!
Young Lord Xihe… Young Lord Xihe…
Four generations of loyal ministers, a tiger cub born to a military family… The guardian god of Chonghua… Save us… Protect us… Please, give us justice! Please, hang that demon whose hands are soaked in blood and whose crimes are unforgivable! Please, kill him!!!
Please wash the blood of hatred from your mountains and rivers.
Please…
Please give us justice and righteousness…
Why won’t you act?
Why won’t you fight him head-on until one of you dies? Why won’t you put on your armor and take his life without hesitation? Do you still believe him? Do you still love him…?
Are you still so hopelessly obsessed, hoping that the vengeful ghost will turn back? Hoping that he will suddenly realize his mistakes? Hoping that he will return to yesterday?!
You’re a traitor too…
Coward… traitor!! Coward! Traitor!!
Mo Xi buried his face deeply and covered his ears with his hands.
These voices had followed him for eight years, tearing at him, tormenting him, and whipping him every moment—
Yes!
There had been times when he wished Gu Mang could die!
He thought of the children who had lost their parents, crying in his arms with tiny, cat-like sobs, only to eventually succumb to the spread of demonic energy and die from the Liao Kingdom’s Black Demon plague.
He thought of an old man with white hair and wrinkled skin, leaning on his cane in a ruined village beneath a blood-red sunset, his tears clouded as he lost his mind, repeatedly calling the name of the child who would never return home again…
How could he not want Gu Mang executed?
How could he not want the generals who had fought through those cruel battles to be killed?!
And so, when Gu Mang had finally been captured, he had chosen to remain silent, handing this person over to Chonghua and the Sovereign to be dealt with according to the law.
But…
His long, overlapping eyelashes seemed to grow moist at that very moment.
But when he truly saw that person…
He discovered that the heart that should have long since been tempered into iron and stone was still made of flesh.
He had selfish feelings.
And he was ashamed of those feelings.
They left him unable to sleep at night, his heart and blood in turmoil.
He saw the child in his arms open blood-red eyes and curse him, spit at him.
He saw the old man turn his head and transform into a green-faced, fanged monster, demanding and berating him.
Traitor!!
Traitor…
Jiang Yexue looked at the person before him and finally could not bear it any longer. He said softly,
“…Brother Mo…”
Mo Xi did not respond.
He remained silent for a while, the corner of his lips finally lifting into an almost unbearably sorrowful smile.
“If the historical-record jade slip can let me know the truth from back then, if I can truly discover that he had a hidden reason—”
He raised his eyelashes, his moist gaze fixed upon Jiang Yexue.
“Then even if I die, I will be happy.”
“…”
“At least in this life, I did not protect the wrong person. I did not misjudge him. I also… we also…”
The calmness and composure in his words finally shattered once more.
Mo Xi abruptly closed his eyes, his Adam’s apple rolling, and did not continue.
Then we will finally no longer be traitors and cowards.
The sea of blood that had immersed them for these eight years could finally reach its end.