WJ Chapter 75

Little Star (5)

Inside Yanyun Palace, Yun Guyan sat by the window listening to the rain.

Wen Huan stood one step behind him, silently draping a cloak over his master’s shoulders.

Ever since that day when Yun Changliu dispersed his martial power, Yun Guyan had become increasingly listless and lethargic. He spoke even less than before and barely moved. Sometimes he would hold his deceased wife’s qin and sit motionless for an entire day without eating or drinking.

Wen Huan knew his words of persuasion would be useless, so he didn’t bother trying. He simply stayed quietly by his side.

Suddenly, Yun Guyan raised his head and murmured hesitantly toward the rainy sky, “Ah Cai, tell me—did I do wrong?”

The old Sect Leader Yun, who had dominated the jianghu over twenty years ago with hands stained by countless bloody deaths, furrowed his brow. He touched the tip of his nose, looking just like a young lad earnestly pleading his case before his beloved girl, and gave a very quiet, bitter laugh:

“But I only wanted you, and then I wanted Liu’er. I… I’m not greedy.”

The departed could not answer, of course.

Yun Guyan let out a long sigh and shook his head with an utterly dejected expression. “Wen Huan… could it be that this lord truly did wrong?”

Wen Huan’s face showed a melancholy expression. Looking at Yun Guyan’s hunched back, his gentle voice merged with the sound of rain in a way that inexplicably brought peace and calm to one’s heart:

“Wen Huan doesn’t know either, Old Sect Leader. Fate is determined by heaven, but deeds are done by man. If you had not captured Duanmu Lin to make him into a medicine person, Liu’er might not have lived past ten years old.”

“But now the Sect Leader has fallen deeply in love with the Protector, and this outcome is ultimately still…”

The voice of a Zhuhuo Guard outside the palace gates requesting an audience interrupted Wen Huan’s unfinished words.

The Zhuhuo Guard who was permitted to enter did not directly pay respects to Yun Guyan, but instead bowed and whispered a few words in Wen Huan’s ear.

The latter’s brow twitched, and his expression grew somewhat somber. “Old Sect Leader, Feng’er has come. I…”

Before he could finish, Yun Guyan let out a grunt and waved his hand repeatedly, signaling him to go. Wen Huan bowed in thanks and left with somewhat hurried steps.

****

Wen Feng stood in the curtain of rain outside Yanyun Palace. He had no umbrella, and his entire body was soaked through. Rain dripped steadily from his hair and chin.

When Wen Huan came out and saw him like this, he frowned. “What’s happened? You are the Sect Leader’s personal attendant—standing here outside Yanyun Palace, in the presence of the Old Sect Leader, what kind of appearance is this?”

Wen Feng wiped the rainwater from his face and smiled miserably. “Father… Father! His medicinal blood fusion is complete—I could tell. But even though I could clearly see it, I couldn’t even step forward to help steady him!”

Wen Huan’s expression shifted. Though Wen Feng’s words were confused, when he mentioned medicinal blood fusion, how could Wen Huan not know what had happened?

“Spare me, spare me please, Father. I can’t bear it anymore!”

Wen Feng clutched his head in the rain and let out a hoarse scream. He had grown up as a personal attendant accompanying Yun Changliu, and at the same time, he had watched Yun Changliu and Guan Wujue stumble their way through this bloody, painful journey.

Back then, the young men’s feelings were pure and untainted, but now they had fallen to this state—hiding their pain on the surface while forcing themselves to appear happy, secretly competing to sacrifice their lives for each other. And Wen Feng, who knew the truth in his heart, only felt that every day was torment, every moment felt like being whipped.

Rainwater fell from his refined face, looking just like tears:

“Why? Why is it so hard to save someone’s life, and so hard to kill someone too? Sometimes I truly wish Wujue would just die sooner and be done with it, but then what would happen to the Sect Leader?”

“Guan Wujue told me about fate, but can it really be that some people are born destined to suffer? Just how much more pain must they endure before heaven will spare these two?”

Wen Huan couldn’t bear to watch his child crying out in anguish in the torrential rain. He knew the curse of Fengchun Sheng was spreading—this was an inescapable evil fate that broke the hearts of all who tried to overcome it, leaving them weeping tears of blood.

After a long while, he finally sighed. “Feng’er. I’ve taught you since childhood that since you bear the Wen surname, since you are the Sect Leader’s personal attendant, you must prioritize the Sect Leader’s safety above all else. As for other matters…”

“—Other matters, I shouldn’t think about them, right?”

Wen Feng suddenly raised his head in fury.

Feeling his mind heat up, he blurted out with a stiff neck:

“Just like you, Father? I know—you clearly harbor improper feelings of admiration for the Old Sect Leader. All these years—”

Smack!

A crisp slap landed on Wen Feng’s face. The white-robed attendant was knocked to the ground, his mouth full of blood that was quickly washed away by the rain.

Wen Huan slowly withdrew his hand behind his back, his expression unchanged. “Treasonous and unfilial.”

Wen Feng coughed and choked twice, then spat out another mouthful of blood onto the ground.

Then he slowly climbed to his feet.

He stood in the rain, covering his swollen, burning cheek, saying nothing.

Wen Huan said, “You should return to Yangxin Hall.”

Wen Feng nodded and said hoarsely, “Yes, Father.”

Then he turned and plunged headlong into the rain.

That white figure appeared exceptionally frail in the wind and rain. Wen Huan watched his son depart, and faintly heard the distant sound of crying and shouting drifting back.

He sighed softly and knelt down on both knees, lifting his robe.

…This child Feng’er was still too emotional and impulsive. With the Old Sect Leader’s internal energy cultivation, even from outside Yanyun Palace, there was absolutely no way he hadn’t heard him shouting like that.

Sure enough, he heard footsteps behind him.

He saw that black-and-gold robe of Yun Guyan’s sweep before him.

So Wen Huan bowed his head deeply, touching his forehead to the ground. “The child spoke carelessly and foolishly. Please forgive him, Old Sect Leader.”

He dared not look directly at the Old Sect Leader’s face, so naturally he could not see what expression Yun Guyan wore now.

What expression would appear on the face of someone who had loved his deceased wife with devoted obsession for twenty-five years, upon suddenly learning that his only attendant by his side had once harbored such filthy, unbearable thoughts toward him?

Wen Huan didn’t know.

He had never wanted to know for his entire life.

Yun Guyan’s face seemed frozen stiff as ice. He looked down at Wen Huan from above, not saying a word.

Wind blew rain threads onto his shoulders, but they were blocked by his deep internal energy and could not wet his body.

Wen Huan maintained his humble, prostrate kneeling posture, his tone steady and calm. “Starting from a certain day many years ago, Wen Huan has only regarded you as master. I beg you to believe me.”

“…”

Yun Guyan simply stared silently at his attendant in this way, examining this white-robed man who had accompanied him for decades from head to toe again with a completely unfamiliar, ice-cold and sharp gaze.

Wen Huan repeated solemnly, “Master, I beg you to believe me.”

The Old Sect Leader stood outside Yanyun Palace for a long time, his expression unpredictably shifting.

Suddenly, he coughed lightly, turned his back, and said indifferently, “Wen Feng said… the Protector’s medicinal blood is complete?”

“Yes.”

“He must be in terrible pain right now?”

“Yes.”

“…Mm. Go and check on him for this lord.”

“Yes, I obey your command.”

Wen Huan’s eyes softened for a moment. He kowtowed again and said in a low voice, “Thank you… for the Old Sect Leader’s great kindness.”

****

In the execution chamber, however, was yet another scene.

Left Envoy Xiao, who had just learned the truth, didn’t collapse like Wen Feng and run into the rain crying and shouting, but he was close to breaking down too.

Actually, what he most wanted to do right now was to directly smash open the doors of Yangxin Hall and reveal everything to Yun Changliu.

However, Guan Wujue had said to him: Do you want to watch the Sect Leader die? If the Sect Leader dies, even if I manage to survive, I’ll be a walking corpse. Do you want to watch me live a fate worse than death?

Xiao Donghe had nothing to say.

He turned his back to Guan Wujue, buried his face in the crook of his arm and took a deep breath, trying to suppress the unbearable pain and bitterness in his heart, but only felt his limbs growing heavier and heavier.

Sometimes, the truth was just this heavy—making one feel deeply one’s own insignificance and powerlessness.

“Left Envoy Xiao? Please don’t be like this, alright?”

Guan Wujue didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as he went to pull at him. Seeing that Xiao Donghe remained motionless, he suddenly remembered something.

He fished something out from his breast—it was the hidden weapon silver needle that Lin Wanxia had used to assassinate him that day. “Left Envoy Xiao… Donghe? Let me find you something to do. Come, come, help me take a look at this.”

But just as the Protector handed over the needle, someone came to report that Wen Huan had arrived.

Xiao Donghe’s face darkened, and he glanced unnaturally at the person beside him, his heart twisting like a knife for a moment.

The Old Sect Leader, Wen Daren, Elder Guan…

These people he had always thought treated Wujue well—in the end, they all had ulterior motives…

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Guan Wujue actually had no awareness in this regard. In his entire life, he had never really experienced being cherished or cared for. The only one who truly loved him—Yun Changliu—was kept strictly in the dark, so instead he found Xiao Donghe’s current behavior strange in every way.

He was about to say “Quickly invite him in,” but then suddenly remembered this wasn’t a place for receiving guests, so he changed his words. “Quickly go out.”

As he spoke, he braced himself against the wall and was about to stand up. But just as he got halfway up, he suddenly clutched his chest with a muffled groan and couldn’t move.

Xiao Donghe was so frightened his soul nearly flew away. In a flustered panic, he rushed to support him, saying in exasperation, “Wujue! Could you please take it easy!?”

“It’s nothing…” Guan Wujue frowned and panted shallowly. He leaned on the Left Envoy’s shoulder to gather his strength before managing to stand up straight again. “I can walk. Let go.”

—This stubbornness was exactly like the Sect Leader’s back in the Punishment Hall!

Xiao Donghe glared at him through gritted teeth. Guan Wujue had already shaken off the Left Envoy and went to open the door to the execution chamber himself. Just then, Wen Huan had been led here, and as the door opened, the two came face to face.

At this moment, Guan Wujue didn’t need to hide his familiarity with Wen Huan. He openly called out “Uncle Huan” in front of Xiao Donghe, then smiled and said, “Did Wen Feng lose it again? Last time he asked me when I was going to hurry up and die.”

Wen Huan smiled helplessly.

He was about to speak when suddenly his gaze abruptly fixed on Xiao Donghe’s hand—

It was the hidden weapon silver needle that Guan Wujue had just asked him to help examine. The Left Envoy hadn’t had time to put it away yet and was just about to first tuck it into his breast.

“Left Envoy Xiao!”

In just an instant, Wen Huan’s complexion became extremely ugly.

He completely lost his usual composed elegance and actually rushed forward in alarm, his hands tightly gripping Xiao Donghe’s wrist. “This… this! Where did this come from!?”

Both Xiao Donghe and Guan Wujue felt a shock in their hearts.

—What’s going on?

They exchanged a lightning-fast glance. Wen Huan immediately sensed it keenly and turned to the Protector, saying urgently, “You gave it to him? Where did this needle come from!”

Xiao Donghe made a decisive decision, turned around and in a few words dismissed the Punishment Hall executioners and patrolling Zhuhuo Guards from the area.

Guan Wujue, meanwhile, narrowed his eyes slightly. “You must first tell me what exactly this thing is that could make the Old Sect Leader’s personal attendant so agitated.”

Wen Huan’s eyes reddened, his voice trembling. “Back then… back then when Lady Lan was afflicted with Fengchun Sheng, the assassin used exactly this kind of hidden weapon!”

With one sentence, like a massive boulder falling into the sea, it suddenly splashed up a thousand towering waves in their hearts!

The murderer who killed Lady Lan…

The true culprit behind Fengchun Sheng…

—That was the source of all the tragedy!

However, in the very next instant, Guan Wujue immediately raised his head and looked directly at Wen Huan.

No one knew just how many thoughts flashed through the Protector’s mind in that split second. Shock only appeared on his handsome face for an instant before being replaced by calm. And his voice was also extremely calm and composed:

“…If that’s the case, Uncle Huan, then Wujue cannot tell you.”