Believing that two minds are better than one, Mo Sigui shared his recent thoughts with Chu Dijiang. If he could gain some insights from Chu, Mo Sigui might consider letting go of his grudge.
After listening, Chu Dijiang picked out a question: “If you believe the spiritual energy in the blood is no longer under Wei Yuzhi’s control, why would there still be a connection between them?”
“Well…” Mo Sigui pondered for a moment before replying, “My conclusion may have been hasty, but other possibilities can’t be ruled out. I think that not only does the brain have memory, but every part of the body should have memories too, including the blood in one’s heart.”
These ideas sounded mystical, and Mo Sigui didn’t expect others to agree. To his surprise, Chu Dijiang said, “Perhaps.”
After his experiences, Chu was even more inclined to believe in such things than Mo Sigui.
“Are you upset that Ajiu has become entangled with someone else?” Mo Sigui intended to gloat, but his words carried a sense of shared misery.
Chu Dijiang crossed his arms and gazed at the birds in the snowy courtyard. After a while, he answered, “The human heart is the most unpredictable thing.”
Mo Sigui clicked his tongue. “Don’t you trust Ajiu’s character?”
“I trust her,” Chu Dijiang replied.
He believed in An Jiu’s integrity, but he knew that people’s hearts could change easily. Moreover, one couldn’t control who they liked or disliked.
He had come to terms with it, realizing that if he wanted to spend his life with someone, he had to give it his all. There were no shortcuts.
“It’s worrisome,” Mo Sigui sighed.
Setting aside emotions, he felt life was full of hope. But whenever he thought about this matter, he felt as if he was falling into a bottomless abyss.
He couldn’t let go, yet he couldn’t hold on either.
It was truly vexing!
Mo Sigui took out his medicinal tobacco from his waist pouch and stuffed it into his pipe. Soon, the room filled with a hazy mist.
After smoking the “celestial delight,” Mo Sigui felt somewhat relaxed. He returned to his room and fell asleep immediately.
Upon waking, he devoted himself entirely to studying medicinal formulas.
Living in the Hua mansion had its advantages. Whatever he needed, Hua Rongtian could usually help find it. Mo Sigui was very satisfied with Hua Rongtian’s efficiency, so when Chu Dijiang proposed leaving, he was the first to object.
An Jiu spent her days eating and sleeping. After more than a month, she had recovered to her former state, though her spiritual energy still needed time to replenish.
An Jiu’s planned body reformation had to be postponed due to her six-month coma. Mo Sigui focused all his attention on researching the connection between her and Wei Yuzhi.
“How did you feel when little Wei Wei was unconscious last time?” Mo Sigui asked.
An Jiu frowned. Mo Sigui had been asking the same question for over a month, and his way of addressing Wei Yuzhi had changed from “Mr. Wei” to “Wei Yuzhi,” then to “Little Wei,” and now to “Little Wei Wei.” This indicated that Mo Sigui now regarded Wei Yuzhi as very important. Apart from Lou Mingyue, this was the first time An Jiu had heard him address someone else in such a manner.
“Did your chest hurt?” Mo Sigui reached out to point to the location but felt Chu Dijiang’s gloomy gaze upon him.
He restrained himself and continued, “Where did it hurt? How did it feel?”
“You’ve asked at least forty times. I refuse to answer,” An Jiu replied.
Mo Sigui held his parchment, his thoughts drifting elsewhere. Recently, he had been seeking out many Daoist texts, hoping they might provide some help.
Fortunately, Chu Dijiang was extremely knowledgeable about Daoism, from its origins to various doctrines and classics. He seemed to have experienced the rise and fall of Daoism firsthand. Mo Sigui gained insights from every conversation, and before the bruise around his eye had faded, he had already put his grudge behind him.
Mo Sigui snapped back to reality and turned to ask Wei Yuzhi.
Wei Yuzhi’s patience was unparalleled. Despite his short life expectancy, he was willing to waste time answering such tedious questions. Today, he answered patiently again but seemed somewhat distracted.
“What’s wrong?” An Jiu seemed able to see through his calm expression to the heavy thoughts beneath.
Wei Yuzhi smiled faintly. “It’s nothing.”
He was never one to confide in others.
Wei Yuzhi walked a treacherous path. One misstep and neither Song nor Liao would accept him. No one could tell him how to navigate this perilous road, nor could anyone understand the feelings of standing on such precarious ground.
Twenty days ago, he had obtained the medicine and contacted his subordinates, learning that Yelü Quancang had handed over the Misty Mountain Villa to Mei Ruyan.
Even Yelü Quancang didn’t know that Wei Yuzhi controlled many private forces besides the Misty Mountain Villa. From the beginning, he knew the villa would ultimately be a sacrificial pawn, and he might be discarded along with it. The Liao people had their talented individuals; how could they allow a Song person to occupy a high position?
As a ruler, Yelü Quancang had made the right decision, but he wasn’t ruthless enough. He wasn’t a cruel person, but to truly cut ties, he should have dealt more decisively with Wei Yuzhi.
Back when Yelü Quancang was gravely ill and almost unable to govern, it was Wei Yuzhi who single-handedly supported him and even found ways to prolong his life.
That year, when Yelü Quancang’s life hung by a thread and it seemed he wouldn’t survive until they could obtain the heart blood of the medicine gatherer, it was Wei Yuzhi who imprisoned Wei Yunshan and used Wei Yunshan’s profound internal energy along with his spiritual power to save Yelü Quancang.
It could be said that without Wei Yuzhi, there would be no Yelü Quancang.
Moreover, in their early years, before they knew each other’s identities, they had shared a bond as close as brothers. Although Yelü Quancang was older than Wei Yuzhi, his poor health meant that Wei Yuzhi often took care of him.
The reason Yelü Quancang hadn’t killed Wei Yuzhi to silence him was more out of remembrance of their once pure brotherly affection, rather than their later mutual exploitation.
“If Yelü Quancang treats you this way, why do you still cling to Liao?” A deep voice interrupted his thoughts.
Wei Yuzhi snapped back to reality, realizing that Mo Sigui and An Jiu had gone somewhere.
“You know?” Wei Yuzhi was surprised, as this matter was very secretive. But he quickly understood that Chu Dijiang could guess what he was thinking, though not the specifics of what had happened.
Chu Dijiang shook his head. “I no longer concern myself with such matters. I just want to say one thing.”
“Please, enlighten me,” Wei Yuzhi said.
“Don’t you feel you’re wasting your talents?” Chu Dijiang threw back the question Wei Yuzhi had asked him before.
“What do you mean?” Wei Yuzhi inquired.
“If it weren’t for certain concerns, your talents wouldn’t be in such a predicament. This world isn’t limited to Liao. The new emperor of Song has ascended the throne, and there are great opportunities. You must be aware of this,” Chu Dijiang put down the book in his hand and looked at him. “Yet you’d rather face cold indifference than serve the Great Song. May I interpret this as hatred?”