“This whole entanglement begins with Hua Po’an discovering the truth about his origins.”
With Jiang Fuli’s voice, clear as shattered jade, the events of several hundred years ago were slowly unveiled.
Hundreds of years ago, Hua Po’an was a slave at the Academy.
However, this man had a stubborn nature and refused to be controlled. Other slaves were born accepting their fate, but after seeing those noble young masters dressed in splendid robes, riding fine horses, wearing ornate hats and luxurious furs, he secretly began to wonder in his heart: Why wasn’t it him who got to enjoy fine clothes and exquisite things? Why was he destined to be poor from the moment he was born, while some people were born into lives of plenty and never had to worry about food or clothing?
No one gave this lowly child an answer.
Slowly, he grew up, and the wildness in his bones became increasingly difficult to suppress. He began secretly cultivating magic techniques. At first, he only wanted to try them out, but soon he discovered to his astonishment that the techniques those noble heirs struggled desperately to master were things he could grasp with ease.
He looked at his own intelligence and everyone else’s mediocrity, and the doubts and unwillingness in his heart grew heavier by the day.
He had originally thought that bloodline determined talent, which was why he was a slave while those young masters and ladies were nobles.
But apparently, that wasn’t the case.
Then what was the reason?
Why, when he possessed such ability, did he still have to bow his head and serve as a slave?
This little slave became increasingly obsessed with uncovering the secret.
For this purpose, he probed indirectly, secretly read ancient texts… and stopped at nothing.
His efforts eventually paid off.
In the end, the slave finally discovered the true reason for his extraordinary talent—
His ancestors.
He learned the old history from when Chonghua was founded. He learned that his ancestors had once been only one step away from the throne, but because they had been schemed against by their own brothers, they had ended up losing everything.
After that, the entire clan was implicated. Their achievements were erased, and they were demoted to slavery.
So this was what they meant by the victor becomes king and the defeated become outcasts, was it?
He couldn’t help thinking: If his ancestor hadn’t been so soft-hearted, if he had struck first and exterminated his own siblings, wouldn’t the person enjoying supreme glory today have been him?
Wouldn’t he also have been the one who could trample servants beneath his feet at will?
The more Hua Po’an thought about it, the more he suddenly understood.
He had never originally been a slave.
He had merely missed his chance at royal power.
He could have been a nobleman too.
After learning these truths, whenever the little slave watched those princes and noble young masters, there was no longer any confusion in his heart.
There was only hatred, contempt, and mockery.
With eyes like an eagle’s, he looked at this group of useless fools, watching how those idiots of mediocre talent could struggle as hard as they wanted and still never reach the heights he could attain with ease.
That loathing born from having been deprived of wealth and glory grew wildly within him like weeds.
He wanted to change his fate.
But Hua Po’an was a clever man.
He understood that the bravery of an ordinary man could only end with his head falling to the ground. So even after learning the truth about his origins, he continued to conceal it, pretending to be pitiful and pretending to be ignorant.
He was like a snake gliding through the depths of the grass, secretly observing every movement outside.
He hoped to obtain a legitimate opportunity to appear before the ruler. To do that, he needed to construct, step by step, the staircase that would lead him to the highest position in the world.
And the first step he chose was the kindest and most compassionate Grandmaster at the Academy at that time—
Shen Tang, the Academy Master.
Hua Po’an was deeply calculating.
He had studied Shen Tang’s character thoroughly and knew that Shen Tang was soft-hearted, gentle-tempered, and the sort of overly kind person who would help anyone.
So from time to time, Hua Po’an would make himself familiar in Shen Tang’s presence, leaving behind the impression that he was obedient and sensible.
When the right moment came, he deliberately orchestrated an incident in which his spiritual core went berserk.
Sure enough, he successfully won Shen Tang’s sympathy.
When Shen Tang gently said to him,
“Silly child, I have already reported to His Majesty and asked him to make an exception and accept you as my disciple. Rest well for now. Once you’ve recovered, you can accompany me in and out of the Academy.”
Hua Po’an knew that he had won the gamble on his first risky move.
This foolishly kind Shen Tang had indeed not disappointed him.
After that, he shamelessly exploited Shen Tang’s sympathy, acting cute and obedient at his side and gradually becoming Shen Tang’s closest disciple.
With his teacher’s trust and support, he grew stronger day by day, placing one correct piece after another on the chessboard of his ambition.
He drew closer and closer to obtaining what he wanted.
But in truth, it wasn’t that he had never felt guilty.
When he saw Shen Tang teaching him magic techniques without holding anything back…
When he saw Shen Tang smile at him without the slightest trace of calculation…
When he received the winter clothes Shen Tang had given him…
It wasn’t that he had never wondered whether everything he was doing, everything he was plotting, was wrong.
Once, he had fallen into a high fever and lost consciousness.
When he woke, he saw Shen Tang sitting beside the table, wearily resting his head on one hand as he dozed lightly. Beside him was a bowl of medicine that had already been prepared.
Hua Po’an looked at Shen Tang’s thin, elegant, and gentle profile, and suddenly his heart hurt so badly.
In truth, throughout all those years, he had seen everything Shen Tang had done.
He watched Shen Tang ignore other people’s criticism and patiently teach and guide him.
He watched Shen Tang argue with others, saying that there was nothing inherently wrong with the child of a slave, that the child was kind by nature, and that there was no reason he couldn’t be taught.
He had eaten candied hawthorns Shen Tang had bought for him, drunk the congee Shen Tang had cooked for him, and applied the medicine Shen Tang had given him for his injuries.
Shen Tang was the revered master of the Academy, yet he had never treated Hua Po’an any worse because of his origins.
He had even given him a name:
Hua Po’an.
Even in the long darkness of night, flowers could bloom and break through the darkness.
So when Hua Po’an called him “Shizun,” it had begun as false affection.
But by the end, it was sincere.
It was simply that, at that time, he desperately wanted to climb to the summit of power.
And hatred and ambition had always held the upper hand in his heart.
Those genuine feelings ultimately changed nothing.
He even knew perfectly well that the Shen clan belonged wholly to the ruler. Among the clans that had overthrown his ancestors back then, the Shen clan had been one of the most important.
He could have genuine feelings for Shen Tang.
But he absolutely could not go soft toward him.
Karmic retribution?
Bringing it upon himself?
He didn’t know.
In any case, Hua Po’an ultimately did not change the direction he had chosen.
He overcame the conflict in his heart and continued investigating Shen Tang’s secret techniques. In secret, he studied those black magic forbidden arts that everyone despised.
Then he altered, one by one, the light-based techniques Shen Tang had taught him, transforming them into dark and evil magic.
In the end, he raised an army and rebelled.
He intended to overthrow the Chonghua Dynasty.
That year, when he led tens of thousands of followers and brought his blood demon beasts and Jingchen troops to the borders of his homeland, his arrogance and confidence could be imagined.
Along the way, he imagined how, once the city was breached, the entire nation would kneel before him.
Those who had once looked down on him, the slave no one had thought worthy of notice, would bow their heads and beg him miserably for a way to live.
How satisfying.
When the time came, would he let them live or order them to die?
Hua Po’an couldn’t be bothered to decide in advance.
In his eyes, these people were like withered grass after autumn. They weren’t something he needed to worry about beforehand.
The only person he repeatedly and indulgently imagined, pondering what he should do with him, was the first step on the staircase he had climbed—
Shen Tang, the Master of the Cultivation Academy.
Demote him to a commoner?
No, no, no.
That wasn’t enough.
Have him continue teaching at the Academy?
Too boring.
Sever the tendons in his hands and feet and throw him into prison?
…But why?
Shen Tang had ultimately treated him extremely well. They had never been enemies.
Why lock him in a prison?
And yet, whenever Hua Po’an imagined locking Shen Tang up, a wave of excitement surged through him.
He would lick his lips, his eyes shining.
At the time, he didn’t understand what this impulse meant.
He only vaguely knew that a large part of the overwhelming pleasure he felt at conquering Chonghua came from the fact that he could control Shen Tang.
His pupils contracted slightly, delight written plainly across his young, arrogant face.
This was the final move.
The game was about to end.
After today, who would dare stand in his way?
—
But in this game of chess, he had imagined millions of possible endings.
Only one thing had never occurred to him—
Shen Tang’s choice.
Hua Po’an had never imagined that before his final move could even begin, Shen Tang would stand before him and, with the very hands that had once wiped the sweat from his brow, end the life of his most prized blood demon beast.
That person looked at him coldly from afar with the very eyes that had once smiled at him.
And in the voice that had once gently explained magic techniques to him, he told him with merciless severity:
“Everything is over. Hua Po’an, your ambition can go no further.”
Your ambition.
Your schemes.
Everything about you… including those vile and twisted delusions.
They can all go no further.
“You are the demon I allowed to grow unchecked. I failed to see your despicable true face, to the point that blood flowed like a river and the nation itself was nearly destroyed.
“So now, as a sinner myself, I will stop you from trampling Chonghua even one step further.
“I do not think death is anything to fear.
“I only think that, all these years, you standing beside me, smiling as you called me ‘Shizun,’ wearing that humble and gentle expression—
“That was the most terrifying nightmare in all the world.”
That day, people only saw Shen Tang sacrifice himself to destroy the demon.
They never heard the final words Shen Tang spoke to Hua Po’an before his body dissipated.
He said:
“Hua Po’an, you have been my disciple for so long. When I search my conscience, I can honestly say that there has never been a single day when I treated you poorly.”
“……”
“All those years of respect and sincerity from me… I never thought… that in return… you would repay me like this…”
Amid the violent vortex created by the collision of their magic, Hua Po’an watched Shen Tang’s figure slowly shatter.
“Hua Po’an…”
Shen Tang stared at him and spoke hoarsely.
“You plotted for so long. You used me for so long…”
“All these years, let me ask you—was there ever even a single moment when you thought about turning back?
“Did you ever regret it?”
It was as though something had lodged itself in Hua Po’an’s throat.
He looked at Shen Tang’s eyes.
Those eyes had always been filled with encouragement and hope for him.
They had never once contained discrimination or suspicion.
That bitterness remained lodged in his throat.
It stayed there until Shen Tang finally scattered into ash.
And the answer Shen Tang had wanted to hear—
Hua Po’an still never spoke it.
Shen Tang was gone.
Hua Po’an was a schemer, a man of ambition.
He considered himself someone for whom emotions were never the most important thing.
And yet, after Shen Tang’s death, he became extraordinarily deranged and twisted.
Fortunately, when Shen Tang sacrificed himself to destroy the demon, he ultimately never directly said:
“I regret pleading with His Majesty on behalf of you, you evil monster, back then.”
Perhaps he had run out of time.
Perhaps he had wanted to wait for Hua Po’an’s answer.
But whatever the reason—
Thankfully.
Otherwise, Hua Po’an might have gone even more insane.
He was already insane enough.
Shen Tang died.
The blood demon beast was sealed.
Liao suffered a crushing defeat.
This was the ending of that battle as known to the world.
But what no one knew was that after Hua Po’an withdrew his troops back to Liao, he remained haunted by nightmares in the depths of the imperial palace of Great Liao.
Almost every night, he dreamed of that day of the final battle.
He dreamed of Shen Tang looking at him, asking him just before he dissolved into dust—
“All these years, was there ever even a single moment when you thought about turning back?
“Did you ever regret it?”