WJ Chapter 84.2

Ge Sheng (3.2)

The intelligence network of the Zhuyin Sect’s Archives Hall was extremely tight—it could be called first-class throughout the jianghu. And Ah Ku was moreover one of their own medicine person; wanting to forge documents would be as difficult as climbing to heaven! This was also why Hua Wan had been so self-reproachful that day. But what if, what if—

What if it wasn’t forgery?

What if there had been two registries from the very beginning?

What if one medicine person entered the sect nineteen years ago, and another medicine person entered eighteen years ago… and in between, someone had tampered with things, grafting one onto the other with subtle alterations—naturally this would be much simpler than completely forging a new registry!

With a snap, that page fell to the ground.

The characters on it were densely packed.

One was a record from ten years ago.

…What had happened ten years ago?

Ten years ago, the sect had sent out a batch of medicine people.

This was because everyone thought the Young Sect Leader’s Fengchun Sheng poison had been cured, and many of the medicine people raised in the Medicine Gate had become useless.

Ten years ago, Ah Ku died.

This was because his heart was pierced to extract blood.

Ten years ago, Guan Wujue entered the Ghost Gate.

This was because…

Of what?

Why would the adopted son of the divine physician enter the nine-deaths-one-life Ghost Gate? No one knew. This was the rule—people who emerged alive from the Ghost Gate could sever all past ties; no one could ask.

But wait.

Could sever… all past ties…?

The second document was a roster of the first batch of medicine people raised for the Young Sect Leader.

Dozens of children—all dead.

Only one remained alive, but the record was vague and unclear.

At first glance there seemed to be no problem—after all, medicine people were lowly; no one ever paid them any attention. However, upon careful analysis, it was exactly like it had been deliberately obscured by someone!

And that time was… nineteen years ago.

The third document was newer than the previous two. It was a record Yun Changliu had secretly commissioned the Archives Hall to investigate regarding the major martial world families, as a precaution before he succeeded as Sect Leader.

Even Wen Feng didn’t know much about this matter, and at that time Guan Wujue was still in the Ghost Gate so it was even more impossible for him to know. Therefore, although this record was new, it was the least known to others.

And the one selected here was precisely the one concerning Wanci Manor. At that time he had expended great effort investigating very thoroughly—detailed to the point where even the ancestral martial techniques of the Duanmu family were investigated completely clearly, naturally including that Twelve-Point Acupoint Technique.

How to execute it, what its effects were, what those struck by it would experience, how long before it would automatically release—all of this was recorded one by one.

Yun Changliu suddenly collapsed powerlessly to his knees on the floor. The cabinet by the bed crashed over with a loud clatter. In the next moment, his gaze instantly froze.

On the floor, several drops of long-dried bloodstains were shockingly visible.

Whose blood?

Whose blood was this!?

Had he… ever taken blood into his mouth?

Yun Changliu felt dizzy and faint, utterly routed. He suddenly pressed his hand against his forehead. His black hair fell like a waterfall, covering his deathly pale face. “No… no…”

Impossible.

Impossible—there could never be such a thing.

How could such a despairing thing exist in this world?

It’s not real—such a thing absolutely cannot be real.

Wujue, Wujue, why haven’t you returned yet?

……

The main gate of Yangxin Hall suddenly opened wide.

Below the long stairs, Wen Feng and Ye Ru were speaking in low voices about something, and also seemed to be arguing. Hearing the sound, they both looked up in unison.

Yun Changliu stood at the hall entrance.

He wore only a thin inner robe, his long hair loose, bathed in the bright white light of early morning.

Before Ye Ru could react, Wen Feng’s face immediately became ashen. “Sect Leader, you…”

Yun Changliu’s expression was indifferent and numb. He said calmly, “If the Protector won’t come back… then this lord will go find him.”

Speaking thus, he stepped down the long stairs. After walking a few steps, he suddenly slumped forward.

Wen Feng let out a terrified scream and rushed up to barely catch the Sect Leader, but discovered the body he touched was cold as ice and was trembling violently.

Wen Feng burst into tears at once, as if something suppressed for a very long time had found an outlet. He gently shook Yun Changliu. “Sect Leader, what’s wrong with you… Have you figured out something…”

“…No…”

Yun Changliu’s head ached as if it would explode. A bone-piercing cold swept through his limbs and body from the inside out. “No…”

Figured out what?

No, no, no… he knew nothing, knew nothing… he had never known anything at all!!

—Why exactly had he never known anything!?

Ye Ru stared blankly at Yun Changliu, then suddenly covered his face and sobbed. His legs went weak and he collapsed on the cold ground, curling himself into a small ball as he choked out. “Enough… enough… Attendant Wen! We can’t hide it anymore, we can no longer hide it! We never should have hidden it in the first place…”

“Attendant Wen, you also saw what Protector Daren looked like at the end… We cannot keep hiding it. The Protector, he was truly too…”

Wen Feng’s eyes reddened as he shouted at him. “Shut up! Shut your mouth!”

But Ye Ru looked at the white-robed attendant with sorrowful eyes. After enduring these many days, he too had finally reached the limit of what he could bear.

That gaze seemed to say: Isn’t this enough? Can we not do it now?

Now that the Fengchun Sheng poison had been cured and everything was as originally hoped, yet the Sect Leader still found out. And he found out so quickly, so quickly!

The Protector certainly hadn’t anticipated this either.

Things had come to this point—why could they still not admit it?

Yun Changliu’s eyes suddenly moved. He looked at Ye Ru and asked, “Where is Wujue?”

Ye Ru raised his head and pressed his lips together without speaking.

Yun Changliu asked again, “You just mentioned the Protector—where is the Protector? Have you seen him?”

Ye Ru said softly, “Reporting to the Sect Leader, the Protector is no longer here…”

Wen Feng froze as if struck by lightning, yet he didn’t move at all or say a word.

Even Ye Ru could see that they couldn’t hide it anymore—having followed Yun Changliu for over ten years, how could he not see?

“I know…” Yun Changliu’s eyes were scattered and unfocused. He breathed intermittently, murmuring in a low voice, “I know he’s not here… I was just about to go find him and bring him back.”

Ye Ru smiled miserably with difficulty. “Sect Leader, have you figured it out? I’m not the real Duanmu Lin.”

“Where is Duanmu Lin?”

“He’s not here anymore, he… died.” Ye Ru bit his lip. In this moment, days of accumulated mental torture poured from his throat. “And I’m not the real Ah Ku either… That’s right, I’m not your Ah Ku at all! I’m not—I never was from the very beginning!”

“…Where is Ah Ku?”

Wen Feng suddenly shouted. “Sect Leader! Enough, enough! Don’t ask anymore…”

Yun Changliu suddenly shivered. He stared blankly and tugged at Wen Feng’s sleeve. “What medicine did I drink this morning?”

“Sect Leader, Sect Leader I beg you not to ask…”

Wen Feng’s tears streamed down his face. He didn’t dare look at Yun Changliu’s confused and helpless eyes. “Sect Leader, this is all our fault! All our fault! Don’t be like this… Don’t think about anything, the residual poison isn’t cleared yet. I beg you to return to the hall first before we talk…”

“Where is Wujue?” Yun Changliu asked again, his voice shaking and breaking into pieces on the ground. “Where exactly is the Protector? This lord won’t force him to return anymore. He can go wherever he likes… This lord only wants to see him once, just once… No, I don’t need to see him either—I only need to know where he is—where exactly is he!?”

“Speak!” The Sect Leader suddenly became agitated. Wen Feng’s tearful silence gave rise to unprecedented rage and panic in his heart. “Why won’t you answer this lord!? Where is Guan Wujue!?”

Wen Feng shouted in breakdown. “The Protector, he—he—”

His lips trembled, but he couldn’t say the words that followed.

Suddenly, Yun Changliu restrained his angry expression.

He actually laughed once, low and hoarse.

“…He… died?”

Wen Feng nearly fainted. But Yun Changliu immediately shook his head again, murmuring to himself in confusion. “…No, it can’t be. Wujue said he would come back—why hasn’t he returned yet?”

The Sect Leader suddenly broke free from Wen Feng and staggered forward, feeling this patch of morning light was dazzlingly unreal.

Where exactly was he?

Was this the real world, or a nightmare?

He had to personally bring his Protector back.

“He has returned, Sect Leader!”

Ye Ru suddenly broke down and clutched his own head. He cried out loudly, “Just yesterday, Protector Daren, he… You’ve already guessed, haven’t you? Haven’t you? You know what he came back to do—he extracted his heart’s blood to make medicine for you…”

“He is Ah Ku—he is your medicine person Ah Ku!”

Yun Changliu’s vision went black.

In that instant, he only felt his soul and body separate from each other—he could no longer feel himself speaking, yet clearly heard his own voice emerge from his own mouth:

“Let me die.”

“The medicine you drank this morning, that was… was…”

Wen Feng smiled with an utterly pale face, smiling as tears fell again. His voice trembled. “In those medicinal ingredients… ah, in there… there was one ingredient of nine-leaf jade clarity lotus, one ingredient of a medicine person’s heart’s blood.”

“Those were all exchanged for with the Protector’s life—he wanted you to live, Sect Leader…”

The white-robed attendant’s weeping became distant in Yun Changliu’s ears.

The Protector…

His Protector…

His Wujue.

His Wujue was gone.

Yun Changliu’s eyes were pitch-black and empty. He covered his chest and gasped several disordered breaths, then slowly fell.

In this very instant, something in the depths of his mind snapped and broke.

Vast quantities of memories gushed forth from that long-silent broken layer.

Those were his lost youthful years, his lost person.

In Yun Changliu’s heart, snow began to fall.

Vast and boundless, not knowing east from west, south from north.

In the snow, he passed through mottled light and shadow.

In the snow, he passed through the dark path between life and death.

He seemed to traverse thousands of li, finally arriving at a peaceful end.

Behind that end, at the land of final rest, the snow stopped and spring arrived.

The warm spring wind greened Mount Shenlie. He saw an elegant little wooden house. Before and behind the house were large expanses of peach forest—pale pink peach blossoms were blooming furiously on the branches, dreamlike and illusory.

Yun Changliu hazily passed through the colorful falling flowers and walked to the wooden house door. He raised his hand to push the door—it creaked lightly and opened.

Sunlight from outside shone through the open wooden door into the interior, illuminating the floor as if it were covered with golden leaves.

Inside the room sat a young boy with his back to him, holding a book scroll in his hands and reading seriously. His green robes were brightened by more than half by the morning light; his elegant profile and chin were also plated with a layer of flowing golden radiance.

Yun Changliu seemed to understand something. He called out softly, “Ah Ku?”

Then that young boy turned his head at the sound—white skin, black hair, refined and beautiful, those eyes clear and moving. He tossed aside the book scroll in his hands, raising his brows with a smile. “Young Sect Leader, you came so late today—you made Ah Ku wait for so long!”

Yun Changliu suddenly smiled gently. “Wujue, this lord has found you.”

That child smiled even more happily. He stood up, his stature suddenly growing tall and slender. The green robes were dyed crimson red, like green sprouts burned into a ball of fire.

In the blink of an eye, it was already Guan Wujue standing before him. The red-robed Protector slightly raised his chin, smiling with a hint of helplessness, tilting his head and raising his brows. “Sect Leader, why did you only come now? Wujue cannot wait for you any longer.”

In the next moment, Guan Wujue turned around somewhat reluctantly. The ink plum and red robes lifted in an unrestrained arc the Sect Leader had seen countless times. The spring sun flickered, peach blossoms drifted down, and the Four Directions Protector’s form seemed to melt into this void, suddenly fading away.

Yun Changliu reached out in terror to grasp the Protector’s robe hem.

But that touch of crimson scattered inch by inch at his fingertips.