After returning to his residence, Mo Xi went into seclusion for three consecutive days.
People had all sorts of speculations about what had happened before. There were countless different opinions, and everyone was curious about what exactly Mo Xi and His Majesty had discussed in the royal city that day, and what had caused him to make such a grave mistake. Yet His Majesty had not punished him at all, merely ordering him to remain confined for three days before letting the matter end so hastily.
But no one knew the truth.
During those three days, Jiang Fuli had also never left the Xihe Residence. Gu Mang’s injuries were far too severe, and he had to close the doors and treat him. Everyone else had been dismissed, and no one was allowed to approach the treatment room.
The third day.
Sunlight shone through the window lattice. As the hours passed, the dark shadow on the ground slowly shifted.
Mo Xi sat before the sandalwood desk, looking at the stack of letters in front of him.
Over these past few days, Mo Xi had already read through this stack of letters countless times. They were intelligence reports Gu Mang had sent to His Majesty from Liao over the years. His Majesty had always carried them with him inside his Qiankun Pouch.
Five years’ worth made for a thick stack. The earliest sheets of paper had long since faded, while the most recent ones had already begun to yellow around the edges.
The only thing that had never changed was the running script on them.
It was handwriting Mo Xi knew more intimately than anything. The strokes leaned slightly, somewhat hurried and messy, and the ends of the left-falling and right-falling strokes habitually curled ever so slightly.
“Your Majesty, I have entered Liao. The Liao State Preceptor is highly wary and gave me some trouble a few days ago. However, everything is settled now, so there is no need to worry. I ask after Your Majesty’s well-being.”
“Your Majesty, Liao is planning to attack Chonghua’s northern frontier city of Lan City after the autumn harvest. There are many civilians in Lan City. I hope Your Majesty will take greater care of the people and make preparations early.”
“Your Majesty, I have been stationed at Tiandang Mountain with the Liao army. I am now the Liao Marshal, and bloodshed on the battlefield is unavoidable. Seven days from now, we will attack Lan City. I will have to take up arms against my fellow soldiers of Chonghua. This is an unavoidable circumstance. Gu hereby offers his apology in advance. I bow my head and kneel in supplication.”
There was even a letter Gu Mang had written to His Majesty after the Battle of Dongting Lake.
The handwriting in that letter was messier than in any of the previous ones. Even the strokes of the brush seemed to tremble slightly, as though when Gu Mang wrote it, he had been so emotionally agitated that he could not remain calm enough to make every stroke neat and orderly.
Just by looking at the handwriting, one could see how anxious he had been at the time—
“The knife to the heart was unavoidable. It was truly because Marshal Mo was far too naïve and stubborn. I sincerely hope Your Majesty will take good care of him. In addition, Gu has one more request. Marshal Mo and I are brothers bound by deep affection, and I fear that from now on, I may never again be able to face Marshal Mo on the battlefield…”
Every time Mo Xi reached this part, he could not help imagining what Gu Mang’s state of mind had been when writing this letter.
In the end, all he could feel was how unbearably painful it was—far too painful for him to comfort himself.
As he turned through the letters one after another, aside from reporting Liao’s military situation and matters concerning black magic, the thing he saw most often was Gu Mang informing His Majesty how many people he had killed and how many cities he had destroyed after each battle.
Rather than saying he was apologizing to His Majesty, it was more as if he were keeping an account of every human life.
By the fifth year,
Gu Mang suddenly stopped counting in detail.
Perhaps he had finally realized that no matter how he calculated or how many times he counted, those people had truly died by his hand. There was nothing he could do to bring them back.
At the end of every letter, in the place where he signed his name, he merely wrote a tiny line:
“The guilty minister Gu Mang bows his head and pays his respects twice.”
Mo Xi stroked the handwriting curled up in the corner.
The guilty minister Gu Mang…
He kept stroking it, and tears began to fall.
They dripped onto those four words filled with such deep self-loathing and self-blame.
He turned to the very last letter.
In that letter, Gu Mang had written only a few simple lines, explaining clearly why His Majesty had insisted on using him for the black magic trial.
Gu Mang wrote:
“Five years ago, when I first entered Liao, they reforged and tempered my body, infused it with wolf blood, and carved black magic spells into my bones. Yet over these five years, my mind has gradually become disordered, and I have grown increasingly unable to control myself. I can already sense what Liao intends to do. They should soon separate my spiritual consciousness, destroy my memories, and then send me back to Chonghua as a gift of peace.
“I am but a speck of dust, and this body of mine has already been stained through with blood and filth. Your Majesty need not expend any effort treating me. If Your Majesty truly pities the suffering I have endured, please have me confined in the Heavenly Prison and dissected as part of the trial, in hopes of obtaining the method to break Liao’s black magic as soon as possible. If that can be accomplished, my wish will be fulfilled.”
At the end of the letter was still that line of exceedingly humble handwriting.
——
The guilty minister Gu Mang bows his head and pays his respects twice.
Inside the Vermilion Bird Palace, His Majesty’s final words still echoed in Mo Xi’s ears:
“Fireball, do you know what it felt like when I saw this letter?”
“In the first letter five years ago, he told me that Liao had given him a little trouble, but that everything had already settled down, and told me not to worry about him. Yet five years later, he realized what Liao might do to him next, and only then did he reveal the truth from back then. It turned out that the ‘little trouble’ he spoke of was actually the reforging of his body and black magic being carved into his bones.”
“Do you understand now? The reason Liao sent him back was because the magic spells and demon blood inside Gu Mang’s body could no longer be suppressed. No one knew what Gu Mang would become after his spiritual consciousness was completely devoured by the black magic, and no one dared rashly kill this mutated demonic body. That was why they sent him back to Chonghua.”
His Majesty paused, then continued.
“Fireball, I had no other choice. Though the black magic trial is cruel, it was the only method I could think of that might possibly save him. Otherwise, when the demonic energy inside Gu Mang erupts one day, neither Chonghua nor Gu Mang will be able to escape an irreversible fate…”
A softly closed door was knocked on.
Knock, knock.
Mo Xi suddenly came back to himself from his painful memories. He quickly raised a hand and wiped away the tears that had not yet dried, put the letters away, and said:
“Come in.”
Li Wei entered.
Over the past few days, he was the only person who could enter this room without being driven out.
Li Wei said, “My lord, good news! He’s been saved!”
Mo Xi froze, then immediately got to his feet and wanted to rush outside.
Li Wei hurriedly said, “He’s still sleeping. Apothecary Jiang specifically instructed that we absolutely must not wake him right now. Also, Apothecary Jiang is waiting for you in the rear courtyard. He said there’s something he needs to discuss with you in detail.”
By the lotus pond in the rear courtyard of Xihe Residence, Jiang Fuli sat leaning against one of the pavilion pillars.
He looked at the lotus blossoms blooming luxuriantly across the pond, while strange and unfathomable shades of light seemed to flow through his eyes. He appeared to be pondering something that even he found deeply puzzling. His brows were slightly furrowed, and his thin lips were tightly pressed together.
Mo Xi walked along the covered corridor and winding path until he reached him.
“Apothecary Jiang.”
Perhaps the three days of treatment had truly exhausted him, or perhaps there was some other reason. Jiang Fuli, unusually, did not immediately come back to his senses. He simply stared blankly at the fish swimming through the lotus pond.
“…Apothecary Jiang?”
Only after being called a second time did Jiang Fuli seem to awaken from a dream.
“Oh, it’s you. You’re here.”
At this moment, there was only Gu Mang in Mo Xi’s heart, so he did not pay attention to Jiang Fuli’s strange behavior. Instead, he asked:
“How is my senior brother?”
Jiang Fuli said, “It’s a little complicated. You don’t need to be too nervous. Sit down, and I’ll explain it to you.”
Mo Xi was extremely anxious, but Jiang Fuli wore an expression that clearly said, If you don’t sit down, I can’t be bothered to talk.
He had no choice but to sit across from Jiang Fuli.
Jiang Fuli said, “Let me ask you first. Before Zhou He conducted the black magic trial, had Gu Mang already recovered most of his memories?”
He went straight to the point, and Mo Xi did not deny it.
“I don’t involve myself in court politics, and I have no intention of asking about anything else, so put your mind at ease. I’m simply curious. He lost two fragments of his soul. In theory, his memories absolutely should not have been able to recover to that extent. I don’t know what you experienced on Bat Island, or what caused him to become like this.”
Mo Xi answered:
“The Mirror of Time.”
Jiang Fuli was silent for a moment.
“No wonder. Then I understand.”
“Let me put it this way, Lord Xihe. The Mirror of Time can indeed restore Gu Mang’s spiritual consciousness and memories, but a person’s soul can never truly be replaced. What the Mirror of Time accomplished was merely a ‘flashback,’ not true restoration.”
“A flashback…”
“That’s right.” Jiang Fuli said, “It’s like a person’s final moment of clarity before death. It can’t last very long. After a month or two, all the memories that returned through the Mirror of Time will completely dissipate.”
He paused, then continued:
“I’m sorry. Even I have no way to reverse it.”
Actually, Mo Xi had already anticipated this.
When Shanjiao had used the Mirror of Time technique, he had shouted that he wanted to make Gu Mang’s memories “flash back.” Mo Xi had already been troubled by Shanjiao’s wording at the time.
But when he received confirmation from Jiang Fuli, his heart still sank heavily.
Mo Xi lowered his lashes and said quietly:
“I understand… Thank you.”
“Since I’ve been paid, there’s no need to thank me.”
Jiang Fuli continued, “Gu Mang’s other injuries are no longer a problem. As long as he rests and recuperates properly, he’ll slowly recover. But there’s one thing I have to remind you about.”
As he spoke, his expression suddenly became serious.
“His mind absolutely cannot endure another major shock.”
Mo Xi’s heart clenched instantly.
“Is there still something wrong with him?”
“How could there be nothing wrong?”
Jiang Fuli raised three fingers and held them up in front of Mo Xi.
“First, his soul is incomplete. Second, an ancient divine mirror forcibly stimulated a flashback of his memories. Third, Zhou He cut open his brain…”
“Let me put it this way, Lord Xihe. Your senior brother Gu is truly an extraordinary person when it comes to endurance. If this had happened to anyone else, suffering even one of these three things would have been enough to make them break down and go insane.”
As he spoke of each one, he folded down one finger.
By the time all three fingers had been lowered, even someone as aloof and proud as Jiang Fuli could not help sighing.
“He endured all three, and yet he still hasn’t lost himself.”
A cool breeze swept across the lotus pond, stirring shimmering ripples across the water.
Jiang Fuli turned his head toward the rippling surface and said quietly:
“Actually, as a physician, I’m very curious. What kind of obsession with life, what kind of mental fixation, could possibly make him so indestructible?”
“…”
After a moment of silence, his almond-shaped eyes watched the fish in the lotus pond gather and scatter, come together and part again.
Suddenly, Jiang Fuli said:
“Lord Xihe, let me ask you something. Gu Mang was actually a spy that Chonghua sent into Liao, wasn’t he?”
Mo Xi abruptly raised his head and stared at him.
Jiang Fuli had probably been too exhausted after spending three days treating Gu Mang. He lazily leaned against the pavilion pillar, his face turned slightly to the side, his eyes narrowed as he gazed at the rippling lotus pond.
He spoke slowly:
“Don’t worry. I didn’t use the opportunity to treat him to pry into his mind. Besides, his mental strength is so powerful that even if you forced him to drink the Confession Water, what he said might not necessarily be the truth. I just happened to think so myself, so I asked casually. You don’t have to answer whether he is or isn’t.”
Mo Xi’s throat was unbearably bitter.
After a long while, he said:
“You… why would you think that?”
“It’s very simple.”
Jiang Fuli said:
“A traitor who couldn’t withstand the blows he suffered and fell into the path of killing and revenge would absolutely never possess the kind of willpower he has. I have no evidence, nor do I intend to interfere in court politics. But as a physician, I can already make a diagnosis: he is not a bad person.”
Sunlight shimmered in Jiang Fuli’s eyes, softening his features until he no longer looked as rebellious and defiant as he usually did, as though he refused to submit to either heaven or earth.
At this moment, Jiang Fuli somehow looked a little sorrowful, and also somewhat gentle.
And the way he looked when he was gentle faintly gave Mo Xi a strange sense of familiarity.
“Take good care of him, Lord Xihe. His spiritual consciousness is now like a dangerously cracked sheet of ice. If he suffers a fourth major mental trauma—”
Jiang Fuli paused.
His expression was solemn.
“He’ll lose his mind. At that point, unless you recover the two fragments of his soul, then even if a great immortal descended from heaven, he still couldn’t save him.”
That night.
A curved Wu hook moon hung high in the sky. The heavens were filled with scattered, glittering stars, while the Milky Way resembled a long sword swimming like a soaring dragon, its dazzling light flowing across the deep-blue night sky.
That night, many people in Chonghua City were carrying their own worries, each with their own troubles.
Inside the royal palace, His Majesty was wrapped in fox fur, curled up deep within the soft canopy of Vermilion Bird Palace. His eyes were closed as he gently stroked the string of Bodhi prayer beads around his wrist.
At the Yue Residence, Murong Chuyi walked to the front of Yue Chenqing’s bedroom. After hesitating for a long time, he finally raised his hand and knocked on the door.
But after waiting for a while, there was still no response.
He gently pushed the door open, only to see a solitary lamp still burning inside. The pillow and bedding, as well as the writing desk, were all arranged neatly, but Yue Chenqing was nowhere to be found.
At that moment, a household servant came over and told him that Yue Chenqing had gone to the Academy to learn skills from Jiang Yexue.
Murong Chuyi said nothing.
After a long while, he closed his eyes.
At the Apothecary Residence, for some unknown reason, Jiang Fuli was hurriedly packing his luggage, saying that he was going on a long journey.
His wife stood by the doorway, seeming as though she wanted to say something, but in the end, she said nothing.
At Wangshu Residence, Murong Lian lay on a bamboo couch in the courtyard, inhaling A Life Like a Dream. Smoke slowly drifted from his mouth, blowing toward the paulownia tree covered in blooming flowers.
Murong Lian bit down on the mouthpiece of his pipe and held up his hand, staring blankly at his fingers.
His eyes alternated between light and darkness.
And at Xihe Residence.
After all the twists and turns, bloodshed, and turmoil, everything had finally returned to a brief period of peace.
Gu Mang lay on the large bed in the master bedroom, covered with a thin blanket, still unconscious.
Mo Xi had dismissed all the servants, leaving only himself to keep watch beside the bed.
He waited patiently.
He did not mind in the slightest that Gu Mang had slept for so long. He did not mind that Gu Mang had taken over his bed either—for that was something he had once promised to give Gu Mang in the first place.
“I once promised that I would give you a home.”
Mo Xi held his hand, pulled it toward himself, and gently kissed it.
“I’m sorry, Senior Brother. I made you wait too long.”
The person on the bed lay there obediently.
His thick lashes drooped down, covering his eyes like two small fans.
At this moment, he no longer had to pretend.
No longer had to endure.
No longer had to exhaust himself with endless schemes and worries.
He looked so tired and frail that as Mo Xi stared at the person before him, he could hardly remember what his Gu Mang-gege had originally looked like—healthy, strong, and radiant like the sun.
Time had destroyed him far too severely.
Mo Xi lowered his head, burying his face deeply as he rested his forehead against Gu Mang’s slightly cool palm.
In a choked, trembling voice, he whispered:
“Senior Brother, you’re home now.”
Warm tears slid down his cheeks, soaking Gu Mang’s fingers and palm.
And perhaps awakened by those murmured words and overflowing affection, after several moments of silence, Gu Mang’s fingertips suddenly moved slightly.
Then he opened his eyes.