Although he had already guessed His Majesty’s thoughts, when those words truly struck down like a heavy hammer, Gu Mang’s voice still trembled abruptly.
“Why?!”
“Because this white stone has been tempered with demonic aura. Lu Zhanxing’s spiritual current is no longer pure. How likely do you think Chonghua is to allow someone carrying black demonic magic on his body to live peacefully?”
His Majesty continued, “Since ancient times, those who became tainted with black demonic aura were either torn apart limb from limb or tied to the Trial Platform and tortured to death. Do you want him to have his name cleared, only to be subjected to such meaningless torment until he dies? Or do you want his death to at least pave the road forward for Chonghua—for you all?”
Gu Mang: “……”
“I want Chonghua to accept slave cultivators and understand black magic.” His Majesty paused before saying, “But the price is that Lu Zhanxing’s wrongful conviction is destined to remain known only to you and me. He must be sentenced.”
Several more lamps were extinguished by the strong wind, and the light on the Golden Terrace grew even dimmer.
After hearing this, Gu Mang raised his head slightly, seemingly suppressing something moist in his eyes. After a while, he appeared unwilling to argue with His Majesty any further and said hoarsely, “…Then… what comes next? What happens after the sentence?”
“Next, I will pave a reasonable road for your betrayal of the state. After this year’s autumn hunt, Lu Zhanxing will be executed as usual. The remnants of your army will be detained. I will not release even the slightest signal to the outside world that I have any mercy for slave cultivators—I will do it thoroughly, so that all the civil and military officials of the court believe that I ultimately chose the old aristocratic clans. I will let everyone see that I am stripping you of your authority, demoting you, pushing you aside… I will drive you toward a dead end.”
“……”
“Once Lu Zhanxing’s execution at the autumn hunt is completed, I will give you the final push, so that you will have sufficient reason to betray your country.”
Gu Mang said, “Betray the Liao Kingdom?”
“Betray the Liao Kingdom.”
Gu Mang gave a low laugh, as though he had heard something utterly absurd.
“How far must His Majesty go before people will believe that I, Gu Mang, would choose the most depraved and darkest one among the twenty-eight nations of the Nine Provinces? Betray the Liao Kingdom…”
His smile suddenly twisted. At this moment, that handsome face even seemed somewhat feral from hatred.
“How badly must I be driven before I would betray my way into the gates of that ridiculous nation—the one that killed countless of my brothers-in-arms and burned the flames of war across the entire Nine Provinces?!”
His Majesty said, “That is why Lu Zhanxing must die.”
“If Lu Zhanxing does not die, no one will believe that the Gu Shuai who once shook the world and was loyal to his sovereign and country would choose to walk toward the gates of the Liao Kingdom. Only when Lu Zhanxing dies will the seed of hatred in your heart begin to sprout, and only then will everything have a catalyst and appear logical.” He paused, then continued, “Gu Qing, think about it. If we save Lu Zhanxing, what will we lose?”
“On the surface, it would seem that he was falsely accused and that his injustice had been overturned. But he is destined to be executed anyway because he has been infected by black demonic aura. Perhaps you think that if he dies this way, at least the seventy thousand graves and thirty thousand heroes of your army will receive fair treatment. But I tell you, they will not.”
His Majesty’s dark eyes seemed to have accumulated layers of deep clouds and dense mist—a blockade that it was absolutely impossible for one person alone to break through at present.
“Once Lu Zhanxing dies, even if I want to rehabilitate your army, grant your soldiers honors, and erect memorial steles for them, the old aristocratic clans will immediately leap out and die remonstrating with all kinds of strange and bizarre reasons. There is an even more terrifying possibility… They will say that Deputy Marshal Lu has been infected with demonic aura, so how can we be sure there are no others in the army who have been infected? Better to kill a thousand by mistake than let one escape—they will even force me to kill all thirty thousand of your remaining brothers!”
“Gu Qing, your army is like an old mansion that has caught fire. Whatever I can rescue from inside, I will do my utmost to rescue. But Lu Zhanxing is where the spark landed. He has already been burned to ashes. He cannot be rescued.”
“I am very sorry.”
“……”
Gu Mang was silent for a long time before saying almost indifferently, “All right. I understand. We are treasures, but a single fire can turn His Majesty’s treasures into ashes.”
He lifted his eyes.
“Your Majesty, do you know what my army is in my eyes?”
It was truly a question that defied all propriety, yet His Majesty did not rebuke him. Instead, his eyelashes trembled, his gaze avoided Gu Mang’s, and there was even sorrow in his eyes.
Gu Mang said, “They are my blood, my eyes, my hands and legs, my family, and my life.”
“No matter how precious a treasure is, once it is smashed, it becomes useless. Once burned by raging flames, it becomes ash. But blood relatives and loved ones are different. Even if they die, even if they are burned away, even if they become ashes… there will forever be a monument to them in my heart. I will remember every one of their names, every one of their faces, until the day I myself die.”
His Majesty said, “That is not what I meant…”
“Then what did you mean?”
Gu Mang gently, almost sorrowfully, gave him a faint, illusory smile.
“Your Majesty, you say that we are your treasures, but treasures are ultimately not living things. We are living, breathing people! We have shed blood for you, shed tears for Chonghua, served, sacrificed, and worked hard for it—even died… Have you noticed?”
Step by step, he pressed forward so tightly, as though those seventy thousand dead soldiers had all transformed into vengeful ghosts, taken possession of him, and attached themselves entirely to his body.
They were demanding their debt from their sovereign.
“Gu Shuai…” His Majesty’s complexion slowly turned ashen, yet in the end he still raised his head and looked back into Gu Mang’s eyes.
“I have always seen them.”
“But for the sake of one person’s honor, to sacrifice the lives of thirty thousand people, the glory of seventy thousand people, and the future of every slave cultivator in Chonghua—is it worth it?”
Gu Mang’s shoulders trembled. His lips quivered. He wanted to refute him, yet he could not utter a single word.
He was an unparalleled military genius. Naturally, he knew that His Majesty was right.
His Majesty’s words were heartless, but they were the most correct path, the one that required the least sacrifice. It was only… only how could he nod? How could he let it go?
“That day in the Golden Hall, you knelt before me and begged me to erect memorial steles for your dead soldiers and leave your surviving troops a path to live. I rebuked you for indulging in wishful thinking—but now I stand before you. I can swear to Heaven that I will never let Deputy Marshal Lu’s sacrifice be in vain. I can promise you that everything you asked for that day, except Lu Zhanxing’s life—I can give you all of it.”
His Majesty said, “I can even promise you that I will definitely let you see a future in which heroes are treated fairly regardless of their birth, where everyone receives justice.”
Gu Mang took a step backward.
He shook his head. The sovereign’s promise was too heavy, pressing down upon him until he almost hunched over.
After a long while, he finally murmured hoarsely, “…Empty words…”
“I have never spoken falsely.”
Gu Mang was almost driven mad. He suddenly raised his head, his gaze like a sword drawn from its sheath, his eyes bloodshot. Without restraint, he shouted furiously at His Majesty:
“Liar!!!”
Thunderous rage.
Amid the rolling wind, thunder, and surging clouds, the blind, clawless divine altar beast had been tormented by a mixture of cudgel and honey until it no longer knew what to believe.
It roared at the master who had tamed it.
It slammed against the cage that confined it, making it clang and crash.
Mo Xi closed his eyes.
The body bearing the pain of repairing the jade slip could not compare with the pain in a heart that had curled in on itself, bleeding.
Divine altar beast… divine altar beast…
In the past, everyone had said this was the glorious reputation of Gu Shuai, a beauty of a title that had spread throughout the world.
But now, Mo Xi could only see an animal stripped of its skin while still covered in blood, imprisoned inside a cage and howling.
The sovereign’s beast.
Chonghua’s beast.
It was suffering unbearably over the hardships of its brothers, yet the person who had raised it tore off its skin and intended to wrap another kind of hide over its bloody, mangled body. They wanted to send it to another country, making it endure the pain and burn away the final trace of its light and warmth.
Amid the pouring rain, His Majesty stood straight and rigid, as though some innate power belonging to a king supported him, allowing him not to retreat or evade even before Gu Mang’s overwhelming emotions.
Although his complexion had already grown somewhat unpleasant.
He could still endure.
“Do you think that after making such a decision, I can be at peace in my heart?” After a moment of silence, His Majesty finally asked in a low voice. “Do you think that when I frame loyal and righteous subjects, I can be at peace in my heart?”
“……”
“Do you think that when I torment the greatest general under my command until his entire body is covered in wounds, then drive him toward another country, I can be at peace in my heart? Do you think that I can stand here today, beneath the thunder of the Nine Heavens, upon this Golden Terrace, and say these words to you with my own mouth, and still be at peace in my heart?!”
By the end, His Majesty’s voice grew louder and louder. His fingertips trembled, and the light in his eyes trembled as well.
“Gu Qing… you once said that seventy thousand people died in the Battle of Fengming Mountain. You said you saw seventy thousand wronged souls demanding payment from you day and night without rest, condemning you, cursing you, spitting upon you, asking you why…”
His voice trembled violently. Each word was ground out between his teeth, stained with blood.
“Do you think… I cannot see those things too?!”
Gu Mang raised his eyes, almost finding it absurd.
“What does Your Majesty see?”
“Does His Majesty see seventy thousand precious treasures shattered?”
“Or does he see seventy thousand clay puppets with similar facial features being destroyed?”
He was mad.
Truly mad.
Words of the greatest disrespect burst from his mouth. His arms had been broken, his heart had been gouged out, and yet Gu Mang dared to say anything directly to the dragon’s face.
“Your Majesty keeps saying that you treat us as people, keeps saying that you can see the brothers I lost, your dead subjects… But you are grieving because your iron army lost seventy thousand! What you pity is a number, a group of heroes. You are not grieving for each of them as living, breathing people!”
His final words were thrown out.
Beyond the Golden Terrace lay the winds and rains of the realm.
Upon the Golden Terrace was utter silence.
After a long time, His Majesty tightly closed his eyes, then opened them again.
His lips moved slightly, as though he wanted to say something, but then pressed together again…
A moment later, his throat choked with emotion, and softly, sorrowfully, he spoke three inexplicable words—
“Xu Xiaomao.”
Only those three words.
Gu Mang froze.
Gu Mang’s fingers, which had been trembling from anger, seemed to be sealed in profound ice.
He remained almost completely motionless, staring at His Majesty’s face in disbelief, as though he felt that what he had just heard must have been an illusion, that he must have misheard, for him to hear such a humble, ridiculous name—the name of his brother-in-arms—from the Son of Heaven’s mouth.
But such names came one after another from the Son of Heaven’s lips and teeth, clear, mournful, solemn.
“Lan Yufei, Jin Cheng, Sun He, Luo Chuan…”
One name after another was spoken by His Majesty.
With every name he spoke, Gu Mang could see before his eyes the face and manner of that brother when he had still been alive.
The man who loved drinking Shaodaozi liquor.
The uncle with a large mole on the bridge of his nose.
The little girl who always lost whenever she gambled, yet never learned her lesson.
And the youngster of fifteen or sixteen, his face still full of youthful innocence, who had recklessly squeezed his way into the military ranks.
Amid these murmurs that sounded like soul-summoning incantations, Gu Mang bent down.
He buried his face in his palms, his fingers sinking into his hair.
He choked out, “Stop…”
“Qin Fei, Zhao Sheng, Wei Ping…”
Qin Fei’s hearty laughter seemed to cross the boundary between life and death and return to his ears.
On one night while stationed with the army, Zhao Sheng had once run to the edge of his tent to give him a jug of sweet wine brewed in the town. He had carried it inside his robes, and it was still warm.
Wei Ping was clearly already thirty, yet he looked young. When he smiled, two sweet tiger teeth showed. When he had volunteered to stay behind and cover the retreat at Fengming Mountain, he had grinned with arrogant, carefree abandon.
That had been the final parting between Gu Mang and this man.
These people’s names…
Who would remember them?
Who would remember them?!
“Gu Shuai…”
“Gu Shuai…”
“Born a hero among men, dead a hero among ghosts…”
No, no.
Those were all empty words.
I only hope that every time you go into battle, you can return safely.
No one wishes for his brothers to return wrapped in their armor as corpses, no matter how glorious the honors bestowed upon them afterward.
“Stop reading them…” Gu Mang painfully clutched his head. He hunched over and knelt down. Almost completely broken, he wailed and cried out like a trapped beast.
“Stop! Stop!!”
“I remember them too.”
“…”
His Majesty stopped reciting the names.
He walked to Gu Mang’s side and looked at the man who had buried himself in the dust before him, curled into the sand and mud.
Once again, he said softly,
“Gu Mang, I remember them too.”
When he said this, he did not even refer to himself as “I, the sovereign.”
“I’m sorry. I did not spend every day and night with them as you did, so I can remember their ages, appearances, likes, and every little thing about them. But from the moment I received the casualty report from Fengming Mountain, I have always been remembering their names.”
Gu Mang’s cold forehead pressed miserably against the ground.
Large tears rolled down his cheeks.
He whimpered and sobbed…
He had truly broken down.
The wounds covering his body had been endured in silence. After finally suppressing the pain himself, licking his own blood, and barely managing to pretend everything was fine before others, His Majesty had suddenly torn open the flesh that had just begun to knit together.
Fresh red blood and flesh spilled out one after another.
It hurt.
It hurt terribly…
It hurt until he felt he would die.
“At that time, I thought,” His Majesty said, “even if I cannot give them a legitimate monument honoring them as martyrs, I will bury all their names in my heart… Gu Shuai, every day and every night, I remember them. I am sorry. I have so many difficulties I cannot overcome, so many things I cannot do…”
He grasped Gu Mang’s arm and supported him, helping Gu Mang slowly raise his head.
His Majesty’s eyes were moist as well.
“But please believe me. In this life, I have never—and will never—regard you as weeds, dogs, or lowly bodies belonging to the slave registry.”
It was clearly such a simple sentence, an ordinary sentence without praise or exaltation.
Yet Gu Mang broke into uncontrollable sobs.
Kneeling, stumbling, he pulled himself free of His Majesty’s hand and came to the edge of the Golden Terrace.
He looked toward the towering green mountains and the vast, distant sky.
His grief-stricken sobs seemed to have been dug straight out of his throat, drenched in streaming blood.
The torrential rain instantly swallowed his cries.
The realm was filled with wind, rain, and sorrow.
Gu Mang seemed utterly exhausted. He rested his head against the carved railing, his shoulders trembling, the corners of his eyes red, the tip of his nose red.
He could no longer say another word.
After a long time, His Majesty slowly walked over to stand beside him.
His lips moved gently as he said in a low voice,
“Gu Qing, do you believe me now? Every word I said was sincere. I did not lie to you.”
“I can even swear it to Heaven.”
He raised two fingers and pressed them beside his temple—the Chonghua gesture for making an oath.
Upon the Golden Terrace, where flashes of lightning seemed almost to reach the Nine Heavens, the new sovereign of Chonghua made a promise to Chonghua’s most important minister.
“If Gu Shuai agrees to my request today, I will certainly fulfill three important matters as promised.
“First, I will properly take care of Gu Shuai’s thirty thousand surviving troops.
“Second, the system allowing cultivators from Chonghua’s slave registry to practice immortal cultivation shall remain unchanged, without exception.
“Third, the seventy thousand heroic souls who sacrificed themselves at Fengming Mountain shall be buried with national honors at the Mountain of Battle Souls, and memorial steles shall be erected and engraved with their names.
“If I betray even one of these three promises, then may I have no descendants to honor me in life and no place to be buried in death. May the national fortune of Chonghua be destroyed by my own hand. In this lifetime, may I become a sinner condemned throughout the ages.”
He paused.
The final words fell from between his teeth.
“Before life and after death, may I never know peace.”