“…”
Mo Xi stood with his arms folded across his chest, his long legs leaning against the corridor pillar behind Gu Mang. “You think Gentleman Hui looks familiar?”
“Mm. I feel like I’ve seen him before, but I forgot him.”
Mo Xi slightly raised his sword-like brows. “Gentleman Hui died several hundred years ago. You must have mistaken him for someone else.”
Gu Mang was unwilling to accept this. He stared at the portrait and looked back and forth at it many times before finally saying with certainty, “I definitely saw someone who looked like him. Do you think he might have ascended and become an immortal, so he never actually died?”
“Impossible.”
“Why?”
“Gentleman Hui ultimately died from the destruction of his spiritual core. That was also his battle to become a god.” Mo Xi said, “After that, Chonghua never had a second ‘Hui.’”
Having experienced the pain of spiritual-core destruction himself, Gu Mang instinctively flinched. He asked, “Why was his spiritual core destroyed? Was it also because he did something bad?”
“Gentleman Hui was always pure as frost and snow, his conduct comparable to Boyi. If you insist on saying he had done something wrong…” Mo Xi paused. “It was probably that he made an exception and took in a disciple from the academy.”
“He trusted the wrong person.”
The man depicted in the small portrait lay within the silk attached to the scroll. His gaze was peaceful and tranquil, seeming to contain compassion while also carrying gentleness.
Gu Mang murmured, “Trusted the wrong person… But none of these books wrote about it?”
“The Old History of Chonghua is merely a brief history. It does not record people’s lives, only the spells they created and their achievements. Naturally, you won’t be able to see much from it.”
“Then can you tell me about those things?” As Gu Mang spoke, he simply moved around to the other side of the long bench in the corridor, propped one long leg up on the bench, and looked at Mo Xi expectantly.
Mo Xi: “…Sit properly. Don’t act like a hooligan.”
Gu Mang reluctantly lowered his long leg.
There was nothing else to do anyway. After thinking for a moment and sorting out the sequence of events, Mo Xi began telling Gu Mang about this past incident.
“Gentleman Hui’s name was Shentang. He was once the Grand Palace Master of the Cultivation Academy as well as the State Preceptor. During the period when he was in charge of the academy, Chonghua produced countless talented generals and grandmasters, and created many strange arts and mental cultivation techniques.
“At that time, there was a saying—even a disciple with the poorest aptitude could undergo a complete transformation and achieve something, as long as he received Palace Master Shentang’s guidance. Therefore, people called him ‘Gentleman Hui Who Turns Stone into Gold.’”
Gu Mang said, “Then didn’t everyone beg him to teach them?”
“There was no need to beg. Shentang taught everyone without discrimination. He was the master of the academy himself, and he paid careful attention to every disciple who entered the academy.”
Mo Xi paused.
“Even the academy servants.”
Mo Xi continued, “At that time, there was a little slave in the cultivation academy. He was unwilling to spend his entire life bowing his head to others. He longed to possess the ability to summon wind and rain like cultivators did. So every time Shentang opened an altar to lecture on the scriptures, he would use the excuse of cleaning the seats to dawdle around beside the Apricot Altar and listen in.”
“Ah… He was that blatant? Didn’t they chase him away?”
“Other elders might have, but Shentang would not,” Mo Xi said. “That slave knew very well that Palace Master Shen treated people kindly, which was why he deliberately kept listening to his lessons. And he was very intelligent. Almost everything Shentang said to his disciples, he could remember word for word.”
Gu Mang raised his hand. “I know! Then that little slave secretly cultivated on his own, became an extremely powerful person, and fought with Princess Haitang—”
Mo Xi froze.
His usually stern face showed an extremely rare expression of bewilderment.
“Fought with whom?”
“That amazing princess who was like Mengze—Princess Haitang.”
“……It was Palace Master Shentang. And Palace Master of the academy and Princess Mengze do not mean the same thing.”
Gu Mang said, “Fine. Anyway, they sound the same. Then let’s call him Princess Shentang.”
The corner of Mo Xi’s mouth twitched.
Back then, when Senior Brother Gu teased him, he had always liked calling him “Her Highness the Princess.” This fellow’s hobby of calling other men princesses had actually not changed even now.
Mo Xi raised his hand somewhat helplessly and rubbed his forehead with his slender, broad fingers. He did not want to argue with Gu Mang over the princess matter, so after calming himself for a moment, he continued.
“You were right about the first half. That slave really did secretly cultivate on his own. But things were not that simple. Forming a spiritual core is a dangerous process. The stronger the talent of the spiritual core formed, the greater the suffering the cultivator must endure.
“That slave had not anticipated that his potential would be so astonishing. At the very beginning of forming his spiritual core, he lost control and went berserk, causing the academy buildings to catch fire. His secret cultivation of spells was exposed, and he was brought before Palace Master Shentang.”
Gu Mang listened with complete concentration. Seeing Mo Xi stop there, he could not help asking, “And then? Did Princess Shentang destroy that slave’s spiritual core?”
“No. That slave’s spiritual core had not yet formed. It was still in the process of condensing, and he was suffering terribly. Shentang knew that if no one intervened to guide and save him, this person would certainly explode and die.
“So he took pity on him. In the end, he violated the rule at the time that ‘slaves were forbidden from cultivating’ and helped that person survive the tribulation.”
The plants in the courtyard swayed. Mo Xi raised his eyes toward the shimmering ripples on the water and continued.
“After Shentang helped him survive the tribulation, the man repeatedly knelt and thanked him, saying that even if he repaid the kindness with his entire life, he could never repay the favor of being given life.
“Seeing that he possessed considerable spiritual roots and was also someone who repaid kindness, Shentang softened for a moment. He reported the matter to the Sovereign and, making an exception, accepted him as a disciple of the academy.”
Gu Mang sighed. “That slave really was lucky. By the way, what was his name?”
“He had no parents to give him a name. Normally, the academy administrators referred to him according to his slave registration number and called him Shisan-er. After Shentang accepted him, he gave him a new name.”
Mo Xi paused slightly.
“Huapo’an.”
Shentang Huapo’an.
As though startled by this name, several birds in the courtyard took flight. They crossed the high, sharply curved roof eaves and flew toward the sky.
Mo Xi glanced at Gu Mang.
This was indeed an interesting situation. The notorious name Huapo’an was like an untouchable taboo. It was as though even uttering those three words would bring the curse of vengeful spirits. Even now, Chonghua still did not dare mention this person casually.
Yet when Gu Mang heard the name of this great demon, he reacted as though he had merely heard the name of some ordinary cat or dog.
He only asked, “Huapo’an was the person Princess Shentang trusted by mistake?”
“That’s right. He was the person Shentang misplaced his trust in.
“At that time, Shentang had no idea what kind of beast he had taken in. He had absolutely no idea that he had personally given a name to the demon who would bring calamity upon the Nine Provinces for nearly a hundred years.
“He still thought he had merely done another ordinary little good deed, just as he had always done.”
As he spoke, Mo Xi lowered his head and looked at Shentang’s portrait bathed in sunlight. The painted brows and eyes were gentle and warm, as though they too were gazing across the flowing river of time at the people of later generations.
“Year after year passed. Huapo’an indeed did not let Shentang’s efforts go to waste. He became increasingly powerful, repeatedly accomplishing extraordinary feats for Chonghua, and received the Sovereign’s favor and rewards.
“The Sovereign even considered abolishing the prohibition against slaves cultivating, hoping to obtain more extraordinary talents like him.”
The more Gu Mang listened, the more astonished he became.
So Chonghua had already had the idea of employing large numbers of slaves back then?
He could not help asking, “Did they successfully abolish it?”
“No. Abolishing the decree was not something that could be done so rashly. The Sovereign decided to first allow Huapo’an to select a group of servants with spiritual aptitude from among the common people and teach them cultivation and the Dao.”
Gu Mang seemed somewhat disappointed, but still sighed. “That’s pretty good too. At least they had an opportunity to prove themselves…”
Mo Xi, however, looked as though he had heard the greatest joke in the world.
“Prove themselves? …Yes, they did prove themselves. But what they proved was not that their spiritual power was impressive. It was that they had the ambitions of wolves.”
As he spoke, his gaze met those sea-blue eyes.
“Gu Mang, do you know why the nobles of Chonghua are so wary of cultivators from slave registers?”
Gu Mang shook his head.
“Because Huapo’an did this. The Sovereign gave him the authority to form an army, but in the end, he used that sharp blade to stab toward the Royal City of Chonghua.”
Mo Xi’s expression darkened.
“Huapo’an’s cultivators had no intention of serving the nation. Instead, they wanted to overturn heaven and earth, turning all of Chonghua upside down. He rebelled.”
Gu Mang fell silent.
Gradually, he understood.
“…So the army I used to have was also very similar to Huapo’an’s, right?”
“…Yes.”
Mo Xi was silent for a moment before slowly saying, “Many people saw Huapo’an’s shadow in you. Back then, when Huapo’an plotted his rebellion, Palace Master Shentang still stepped in to stop him. If you were to commit the same offense again, Chonghua would inevitably face another great calamity. And this time, no one knows who could stop it.”
Gu Mang’s expression changed slightly. His knuckles around the bamboo slips turned somewhat white as he asked in a low voice, “Am I like him? Am I like Huapo’an?”
“…”
Seeing Gu Mang’s unease, Mo Xi softened his tone.
“You are not the same kind of person as him. Although you did betray your country, Huapo’an was an utterly unreasonable madman. In order to rapidly strengthen the slave cultivators under his command, he captured many Butterfly-Bone Beauty Seats and kept them for military use.”
“What are Butterfly-Bone Beauty Seats?”
“It is a type of person with a special constitution.”
Mo Xi seemed extremely disgusted by the subject and did not wish to elaborate. He simply said, “They can be used as dual-cultivation furnaces, or they can simply be used for drinking blood and eating flesh. As long as these people are eaten, even an ordinary minor cultivator can rapidly increase their cultivation.
“Huapo’an relied on this brutal method of cannibalism to rapidly raise a group of slaves who swore absolute loyalty to him. He even established a nation and became king in his own right in the northern borderlands of Chonghua.”
As he spoke, Mo Xi raised his hand and covered the copy of The Old History of Chonghua spread across Gu Mang’s knees.
Looking down at him, he said, “After I’ve said so much, let me ask you something. Do you know now which country Huapo’an was the founding sovereign of?”
Gu Mang stared blankly and hesitated.
“…It was… Liao, Liao…”
“That’s right.”
Mo Xi’s expression gradually became solemn.
“The founding sovereign of Liao—the founding ruler, Huapo’an. He was the evil consequence of Chonghua’s first decision to place its trust in slaves.”
Mo Xi had originally only intended to tell him the history between Chonghua and Liao. He had not meant to allude to Gu Mang at all.
But the speaker had no intention, while the listener had a heart.
Gu Mang instantly fell into an awkward and ashamed state. It was as though someone had seized him by the throat, leaving him unable to say anything for a moment.
During this period, the more he learned, the more unreasonable he felt his former self had been.
Although there were many things about Chonghua that were unsatisfactory, at least it had once tried to reform itself and become better. Yet instead, it had suffered betrayal and manipulation.
For example, it had trusted Huapo’an, only for Huapo’an to turn around and stab the nobles led by Shentang.
If it were him, could he have trusted another person of slave origin without reservation?
No one could say for certain whether he might become the next Huapo’an, whether he might create a second black-magic Liao Kingdom.
Under such circumstances, Chonghua had still given them a second chance.
Whether it was for the sake of balance, exploitation, or some other reason, Chonghua had once again placed power into the hands of someone who had come from slavery.
That person was him.
And his army.
When the old Sovereign made that decision, how much determination must he have summoned? How much courage must he have needed?
Yet in the end, Gu Mang still became a lesser version of Huapo’an.
Although he had not led an army in rebellion, he had defected.
He had even fled to the very country founded by Huapo’an.
He had still walked down a road similar to Huapo’an’s.
Gu Mang was speechless.
After struggling in silence for a long time, he quietly lowered the bamboo scroll in his hands.
He said, “…I’m sorry…”
“I’m sorry” was the most powerless phrase in the world.
Gu Mang had already repeated it countless times before the tombstones of the fallen heroes.
Mo Xi was stunned for a moment. He understood what Gu Mang meant, but he did not know what to say either.
At this moment, he heard Gu Mang ask quietly:
“Then what about Princess Shentang? How did he… ultimately have his spiritual core completely destroyed?”