Baili Weisheng considered it—if he could just steal the Wuzheng out of Jun Beiyue’s hands, perhaps he’d manage to remember something.
But the instant Jun Beiyue’s cold, stern face rose up in his mind, he abandoned the idea at once.
Though he was rather tempted to just tell Ziqing and Jun Beiyue the whole thing outright, thinking it over again, it still felt like the wrong move.
What if it turned out to be something bad? Or what if it was some private matter of Xuanyuan Lige’s, meant for Han Ziqing’s ears alone?
Or what if he told them, and then never managed to recall the rest for the rest of his life—wouldn’t that just be giving everyone false hope, for nothing?
Turning this over in his mind, Baili Weisheng furrowed his brow so hard it looked ready to crease permanently, then slowly lay back down again, hands laced behind his head, gazing up at the brilliant night sky.
He’d told himself he wasn’t going to think about it anymore, and yet, for some reason, the image of Ziqing’s grief-stricken face in the tent that day kept rising unbidden in his mind.
Habits, it seemed, weren’t so easily forgotten. He seemed thoroughly unaccustomed to seeing her unhappy.
“If I really did love you, how could I have forgotten even you?” he murmured to himself, slowly closing his eyes.
The night sky glittered above, the summer evening perfectly still.
But at that same moment, the mountainside behind the inn was anything but calm. Xiong Xiaobao, following the sound of the qin, had charged all the way up to the mountain’s midpoint in one breath.
Only, by the time he reached it, the music had abruptly stopped.
And yet, even without the sound to guide him, he still had no trouble finding the source—because the air all around was thick with the heavy scent of blood, as though some massive slaughter had just taken place, blood flowing like rivers.
Why had the music stopped so suddenly? Where was Father? Where could he be?
That particular scent, that particular scene—Xiong Xiaobao couldn’t help but shudder, memories rushing back of what Meng Duo’er had described to him, that bloody scene inside the cave at Yuqiong Mountain in Nanzhao!
That same bloody scent had claimed Xuanyuan Lige’s life, had claimed every memory Baili Weisheng had ever had.
So then—what did this particular bloody scene mean, right now?
Something seemed to click in Xiong Xiaobao’s mind, and he suddenly let out a wail. “Father!”
His young, tender cry echoed through the empty forest, sounding especially desolate.
“Father, where are you! Father!”
“Father!”
…
Xiong Xiaobao panicked. The scent of blood seemed to seep in from every direction at once, and he couldn’t tell which way to go, had no idea where to even begin searching.
Stubbornly holding back his tears, unable to figure out where to search, he charged forward blindly instead. “Father! Father, where are you! Father, don’t leave me and Mommy behind! Father!”
Such a scent of blood filled him with nothing but dread—in his memory, his father had always been like some untouchable, godlike figure standing above all else, nothing in the world capable of troubling him!
Finally, just as Xiong Xiaobao was about to charge straight off the edge of a cliff, Jue Mingzi came flying toward him and caught him just in time, pulling him into his arms.
“Child, what are you doing out here?”
Xiong Xiaobao immediately struggled, shouting fiercely, “Where’s my father! He’s doing something with the blood zheng, isn’t he!”
Jue Mingzi’s face was full of worry, but he didn’t answer directly, instead trying to persuade him. “Child, go back. Your mother will be worried if she can’t find you!”
“Where’s my father! Answer me!” Xiong Xiaobao, growing more anxious, grabbed hold of Jue Mingzi’s collar, and at that same moment, all four poisonous beasts, including the great clumsy bear, materialized abruptly out of thin air, appearing right behind him.
Meeting Xiong Xiaobao’s suddenly bloodthirsty gaze, Jue Mingzi was startled, at a complete loss for what to do!
Behind him lay Jun Beiyue, whom he couldn’t reason with. Before him stood Xiong Xiaobao, whom he equally couldn’t reason with.
At a moment like this, he genuinely wished Ziqing would appear.
Only Ziqing could talk sense into this pair of stubborn father and son, most likely—but Jun Beiyue absolutely forbade him from telling her anything!
“I’ll ask you one last time—where’s my father!” Xiong Xiaobao’s voice turned cold, an icy edge radiating from him that no child ought to possess.
“You… go back. Your father won’t let anyone come near!” Jue Mingzi still tried to persuade him—not only had he failed to talk Jun Beiyue out of this, he’d been threatened into standing guard for him instead.
Even setting all else aside, he genuinely didn’t want Xiong Xiaobao to see Jun Beiyue in his current state either!
“He’s up ahead!”
Xiong Xiaobao said coldly, releasing Jue Mingzi at once and charging forward. Jue Mingzi tried to stop him, but the great clumsy bear immediately swung a massive paw straight at him!
Forced to dodge, Jue Mingzi had no choice but to duck aside, and in that split second, Xiong Xiaobao seized the chance to dash right past him!
“Wait, child, you can’t go over there!” Jue Mingzi cried out in alarm, chasing after him with everything he had, but by the time he caught up to Xiong Xiaobao, it was already too late—Xiong Xiaobao had found Jun Beiyue.
Xiong Xiaobao stood frozen in place, staring at his father from a distance, his young face betraying a hint of fear.
And directly ahead of him, no more than ten paces away, Jun Beiyue sat cross-legged beside the qin stand, dressed in robes as white as snow, his long dark hair sweeping gently in the breeze. Beneath the quiet moonlight, that devastatingly handsome face had lost its usual cold severity, gaining instead a touch of scholarly refinement.
Even Ziqing, perhaps, had never seen Jun Beiyue look quite like this.
Everyone knew him as Da Zhou’s god of war, the demon lord who ruled the battlefield—but few knew he could also look this elegant in white, this ethereally handsome.
If Xuanyuan Lige had been an exiled immortal fallen into the mortal world, then Jun Beiyue was a heavenly deity descended from the ninth heaven itself.
And yet, right now, Jun Beiyue’s eyes held a chill so absolute it was total, and it was precisely that chill that struck fear into Xiong Xiaobao’s heart.
Since the day he was born, however much his father doted on his mother, he’d been given just as much indulgence himself; whatever exceptions were made for his mother, the same exceptions had always been made for him too.
But tonight was completely different. Never before had he seen such a genuinely fierce, forbidding look in his father’s eyes.
It left him frightened, his whole body stiffening so much he couldn’t take a single step forward—if anything, he felt the urge to back away instead.
He knew—his father was truly angry.
Jun Beiyue simply looked at his son like this, saying nothing for a long while, until Jue Mingzi arrived, and only then did he speak coldly. “Take him back. I made it clear—no one is to interfere in this matter.”
“Father! Mommy absolutely forbids you from touching the blood zheng!” Xiong Xiaobao blurted out, throwing caution to the wind.
“If you don’t tell her, she won’t find out.” Jun Beiyue said coldly.
“You’re lying to Mommy!” Xiong Xiaobao shouted furiously.
“Take him back.” Jun Beiyue said coldly to Jue Mingzi, refusing to answer any further.
“I won’t!” Xiong Xiaobao’s small fists clenched tight, the words practically growled out from deep in his throat, “I won’t! I won’t! I won’t!”
The more he shouted, the more he couldn’t hold back his tears. “I don’t want this, Father, I don’t want you taking this risk, I don’t want it—Mommy already said we’re not looking for the lonely island anymore, so why do you still have to touch the blood zheng?”
Even crying, even choking back sobs so badly he could barely get the words out, Xiong Xiaobao still forced himself to shout, demanding, “Father, don’t you want me and Mommy anymore? Don’t you want us?”
However iron-willed Jun Beiyue was, he could never withstand his own son’s tears in the end. The chill in his eyes softened, and he said flatly, “I’m right here, perfectly fine—how could I not want you?”
“Liar! You’ve bled so much, how are you perfectly fine!” Xiong Xiaobao shot back immediately. Even though he couldn’t actually see the blood, he was one hundred percent certain the scent of blood in the air belonged to his father.