Volume Five – Gentle River Chapter 118

“Ha ha ha ha! This is exactly what I hoped for! Heaven is on our side!” A triumphant laugh echoed through Taichu Observatory’s side hall. Yang Heying held a note, his entire body shaking with laughter. “Blissful Palace has been turned upside down overnight! Hu Fengge’s body was dumped in a mass grave, Mu’s followers scattered, and Elder Lu Fengchun of Tianqu seized power! Ha ha ha ha! Now it doesn’t matter how we deal with Mu Qingyan!”

Song Shijun frowned. “My old man always said Lu Fengchun was the least worthy among the Seven Star Elders. Kaiyang, Yaoguang, and Tianxuan were fiercely loyal to Nie Hengcheng. Tianquan was devoted to the Mu family. Yuheng was loyal to whoever could revive the Demonic Cult. Even Tianji, despite failing, was a hero for a time. But this Tianqu Lu Fengchun only knows how to lurk in the shadows and take advantage of other’s weaknesses. No wonder they call him the old turtle!”

Ning Feng coldly remarked, “This news spread quickly. Before we could even investigate, Lu Fengchun eagerly sent us the information. Who doesn’t see through his intentions?”

Cai Pingchun added, “He wants us to do his dirty work. He’s hoping we’ll quickly dispose of Mu Qingyan to secure his position.”

Zhou Zhizhen turned and asked, “Can we trust such significant news that emerged in just a few days?”

Qi Yunke replied, “We’ve verified it with our contacts around the Vast Sea Mountain Range. It’s true.”

Yang Heying paced the hall, elated. “Now we can do whatever we want with Mu Qingyan without fear of retaliation. This is a great opportunity we can’t miss!”

Zhou Zhizhen coldly interjected, “Yang, you’re mistaken. We’re dealing with Mu Qingyan to avenge Pingchu. The Demonic Cult’s strength or weakness won’t affect our resolve to punish their leader.”

Yang Heying was taken aback. Since opening a purple wooden box, the usually mild-mannered Zhou Zhizhen had become inflexible, speaking coldly about everything. Yang Heying inwardly cursed Zhou for being a coward, upset about Cai Pingchu’s infidelity only now, but outwardly didn’t dare provoke him.

Qi Yunke agreed, “Brother Zhou is right. We, the Six Northern Sects, act based on right and wrong, not on power or interests. We’ll do what’s right, even if it means facing great danger. We won’t do what’s wrong, no matter how beneficial it might be.”

Forced to swallow this moral lecture, Yang Heying’s face turned purple. “How should we deal with Mu Qingyan then? You’re the head of the first sect, you decide!”

Qi Yunke cleared his throat and looked around. “We’ve carefully considered…”

“Who’s ‘we’? My brother Song hasn’t said a word,” Yang Heying interrupted.

Song Shijun pulled his sleeve. “Don’t interrupt. Listen.”

Qi Yunke continued, slightly red-faced, “Although children may pay for their parent’s debts, Mu Zhengyang, who harmed our brothers and sister Pingchu, was only Mu Qingyan’s uncle. We righteous sects can’t arbitrarily implicate others. Moreover, when the Nie family was in power, Mu Qingyan didn’t harm the martial arts world. So, killing Mu Qingyan would be excessive.”

“What? Are we just letting him go?” Yang Heying exclaimed anxiously.

“Let him finish!” Song Shijun tugged his sleeve again.

Qi Yunke continued, “However, our Northern Sects have been mortal enemies with the Demonic Cult for two hundred years. Even if Mu Qingyan hasn’t done evil yet, he will surely act to revive the Demonic Cult in the future. Releasing him would dishonor our ancestors and the righteous path of martial arts…”

“What exactly are you proposing?” Even Song Shijun couldn’t hold back this time.

Zhou Zhizhen spoke slowly and deliberately, “Tomorrow, at Zhengyuan Hall, the six sects will hold a trial. After informing heaven, earth, and our ancestors, we’ll destroy Mu Qingyan’s dantian and meridians, stripping him of his martial arts. Then we’ll imprison him under strict guard.”

Song Shijun felt a chill. Remembering Mu Qingyan’s proud and heroic demeanor, he thought it might be kinder to kill him than turn him into a cripple.

Yang Heying cheered, “Excellent! This is truly a good idea! It shows mercy while also intimidating the Demonic Cult! However, for fairness, the six sects should take turns guarding Mu Qingyan!”

Cai Pingchun glanced at him sideways. “Yang, you seem eager. Are you planning to interrogate Mu Qingyan? Everyone covets the Mu family’s two-hundred-year-old private treasury and the vast collection of ancient texts in the Nine Provinces Treasure Pavilion. These are treasures all martial artists dream of.”

Song Shijun exclaimed, “Lao Yang, is that your intention?”

Yang Heying defended himself, “What’s wrong with righteous sects using items from the Demonic Cult? With these resources, we might greatly increase our strength and finally destroy the Demonic Cult!”

“Heh, how selfless and righteous of you,” Ning Feng scoffed.

Yang Heying jumped up. “Who are you calling self-righteous…”

“Enough!” Zhou Zhizhen’s stern voice cut through the argument. “We’ll decide where to keep Mu Qingyan later. Tomorrow, we carry out the sentence!”

Qi Yunke nodded. “Let’s do it.”

“…That’s the situation,” Fan Xingjia explained while secretly observing Cai Zhao. “Tomorrow morning, our masters will carry out the sentence on Cult Master Mu.”

The window was wide open, letting in the fierce midday sun. It illuminated the girl’s face, pale to the point of transparency. Fan Xingjia couldn’t help but recall when he first saw her—a rosy-cheeked, elegantly dressed girl who loved to smile. She had given Qi Lingbo a taste of her power, impressed the guests with her skills, and even criticized the sect’s chef.

Back then, she was carefree, joyful, and charming, even the ornaments on her dress were exquisite and adorable.

Now, she looked wan and haggard, her lips colorless, like a flower at the end of its bloom, beyond saving. Only her large, dark eyes remained clear and deep.

Fearing she might have unwise thoughts, Fan Xingjia quickly added, “The dungeon is heavily guarded now. Not even a mosquito could fly in. Zhao, don’t get any ideas. The Demonic Cult is in chaos; no one will come to help you rescue him.”

He took out a bamboo tube and placed it on the table. “Look, these are the Soul-Disturbing Needles Master Li asked me to prepare. A whole tube full. He said if you try anything foolish, he’ll stick these in your major acupoints. It’s enough to keep you unconscious until autumn.”

The girl remained silent, head bowed, for so long that Fan Xingjia thought she wouldn’t speak.

Suddenly, she looked up and pleaded softly, “Brother, could you ask Master Li to let me see him? With you all watching, I can’t rescue him. I just want to see him once before the sentence is carried out.”

Fan Xingjia felt a pang in his heart and immediately went to plead with Li Wenxun. “Uncle, Zhao is still one of us. Let them meet one last time. After tomorrow’s sentence, when Mu Qingyan becomes crippled, he’ll surely hate Zhao bitterly. He won’t have anything good to say then. Now that everything is settled, why not grant Zhao this wish?”

After a moment of silence, Li Wenxun finally agreed. However, he personally ‘escorted’ Cai Zhao to Taichu Observatory’s dungeon and stood guard at the entrance.

Song Yuzhi, still holding his sword at the iron prison door, was surprised to see Cai Zhao. “Zhao, you… you’ve become so thin.”

Cai Zhao smiled faintly, her smile like autumn’s last fallen petal or the sun sinking beyond the horizon. “Thank you, Brother, for looking after him all this time, ensuring he wasn’t humiliated. Brother, could you let me speak to him alone for a moment?”

Song Yuzhi felt a pang of sadness. He nodded and led the Siguangtian Gate disciples guarding outside away.

Cai Zhao slowly approached the iron bars, pressing her body against them and reaching through with both hands. “Mu Qingyan…”

A faint rattling of chains echoed from the depths of the iron prison like an old man moving slowly. As their hands clasped, Cai Zhao felt her fingers being squeezed painfully. A strong scent of blood mixed with the stench of rotting flesh assailed her.

In the dim lamplight, Cai Zhao eagerly examined the approaching figure. In just a few days, he had become so gaunt that he seemed little more than a skeleton. His cheeks were sunken, his complexion deathly pale. His face, neck, body, and limbs were covered in wounds from the trap explosion, deep gashes revealing white bone, while shallower cuts left long trails of blood.

Cai Zhao placed her palm on his chest, once firm and fair, now scarred and festering. “…Was it black gunpowder?” Her voice trembled.

“Yes,” Mu Qingyan smiled, his pale face showing no concern. “Your Northern Sects don’t know how to make black gunpowder. They must have found some Thunder Rain bombs somewhere and replaced the poison needles with sharp fragments.”

Cai Zhao’s heart wrenched. “It must have been from my family. After my great-uncle killed Elder Tianxuan, he seized a few Thunder Rain bombs and kept them in Luoying Valley.”

Mu Qingyan chuckled, “In-laws have always disliked their sons-in-law. After repeatedly luring you away and encouraging your mischief, I deserve this suffering.”

Cai Zhao felt a deep gash below his collarbone, her fingertips touching blackened, rotting flesh. She choked back tears, “Didn’t Third Brother bring you medicine? Why haven’t you treated your wounds?”

Mu Qingyan snorted softly, “I dare not trust anything your masters send.” His tone softened, “Zhao, it wasn’t my father who harmed your aunt, it was…”

“I know, I know it all,” Cai Zhao forced a smile. “I had guessed it was someone who looked like your father, but I never imagined your father was a twin.”

“Tomorrow, tomorrow…” Cai Zhao felt her throat constrict. “Tomorrow they’ll…”

“I know. Song Yuzhi told me,” Mu Qingyan said coldly. “They think destroying my dantian and meridians is their great victory, but I’m not afraid. Even with my martial arts crippled, I can still throw the world into chaos!” His voice was full of proud ferocity.

He cupped the girl’s face, “I’m not afraid, and you shouldn’t be either. Ignore those old fools’ schemes. Let me look at you properly…”

The lamplight fell on the girl’s thin face, and he frowned. “Song Yuzhi was right. You’ve become so thin.”

Cai Zhao shook her head, holding back tears as she touched his face and forehead. “You have a fever…”

Mu Qingyan embraced her through the bars. “It’s nothing. I’ve had fevers before when locked in a dark room. I survived without anyone caring, so this is nothing.”

Cai Zhao’s heart ached, leaving her speechless.

Just then, Li Wenxun’s harsh voice came from the door, “Are you done? It’s time to go.”

Cai Zhao called out, “Master Li, just two more things to say.” She turned back, “There’s something I’ve wanted to say for a long time.”

“You’ve always been afraid of the dark, yet when you sleep, you refuse to leave even one lamp lit. You force yourself to sleep in pitch darkness. Even if you can’t sleep all night, even if you have to nap during the day, you won’t give in.”

“During our trip to Snow Ridge, I always kept a night pearl to guard against Duan Jiuxiu and the others. For several nights, you slept so sweetly, but you’d never admit it.”

Mu Qingyan was stunned.

“You’re also afraid of fire—Uncle Cheng said the dark room once caught fire and nearly burned you,” the girl continued. “But the more you fear fire, the more you try to touch it. Even though you could blow out candles, you insist on pinching the wick with your fingers. Every time we make a campfire, you have to light the flint yourself.”

Mu Qingyan trembled slightly as nightmares from before he was five years old surfaced.

A weak child, cornered by rolling smoke and flames, the door still firmly locked with iron chains. No matter how he screamed, even until his throat bled, no one opened the door to save him. Just as the vicious flames were about to lick his feet, a sudden downpour extinguished the fire.

Cai Zhao smiled through her tears, “That’s how you are. The more you fear something, the more you force yourself to face it, pretending it doesn’t affect you, always appearing invincible.”

“Don’t be so stubborn,” she gently caressed his cheek. “It’s okay to say what you dislike. In the days to come, don’t push yourself too hard.”

The girl’s expression was strange, both tender and sorrowful. Mu Qingyan felt an inexplicable unease. He wanted to stop her, but Li Wenxun interrupted, and he watched helplessly as the girl left.

After leaving the dungeon, Cai Zhao bowed to Li Wenxun. “Master, after tomorrow’s sentence, we’ll be heading back. We came to pay respects to Hero Chang, and everyone else has done so except me. Hero Chang was a great benefactor to the Cai family and Luoying Valley. I’d like to pay my respects.”

The girl spoke softly and reasonably, and Mu Qingyan’s dungeon was under strict guard.

After some thought, Li Wenxun agreed.

Cai Zhao had Fan Xingjia fetch her trunk from the inn. She set aside a long, flat box and took out a package from the bottom. Inside were intricately crafted miniatures she had prepared earlier: a three-layered house with four-horse carriages, complete with furniture and even a chessboard, all made of bamboo and wood.

Though small, the items were lifelike. The carriage wheels could even turn.

Fan Xingjia was mesmerized. “Sister, your craftsmanship is amazing! The rocking chair moves, and look, you can even take out the chess pieces!” He held tiny black and white pieces in his palm.

Cai Zhao carefully packed the miniatures into a bamboo basket and shouldered it, smiling, “This is nothing. If my grandfather were here, he could make a model of the entire Chang Family Fortress.”

Li Wenxun could see the girl had put much effort into these creations. His expression softened slightly, “Zhao, you’re thoughtful. This honors Chang Haosheng’s kindness to Luoying Valley. Burn these offerings, and he’ll be pleased.”

He assigned sixteen skilled outer disciples to ‘accompany’ Fan Xingjia and Cai Zhao as they rode quickly to Mount Wuan to pay respects to Chang Haosheng.

At the back mountain of Chang Family Fortress, Cai Zhao found the once overgrown graveyard had been tidied up. She looked around, praising the work. Then she told Fan Xingjia she wanted to speak to Hero Chang alone. Fan Xingjia had no choice but to wait outside the graveyard with the sixteen disciples.

A moment later, Fan Xingjia saw a wisp of smoke rising, knowing the girl had started burning the offerings. He went to fetch her. On the way back, he noticed the empty bamboo basket she carried seemed heavy. Curious, he asked, “Zhao, what else did you put in the basket?”

Cai Zhao softly replied, “I dug up some flower saplings to plant back at our sect, as a memento of Hero Chang. It’s probably heavy because of the soil around the roots.”

His junior sister had always been particular about life’s pleasures, not just in food and clothing, but also in living arrangements and travel. Even during her brief stay at Qingjing Retreat, she had her maids decorate thoroughly. Fan Xingjia didn’t suspect anything and happily rode back.

They returned to Taichu Observatory after nightfall. Li Wenxun was satisfied to see them back safely without incident.

Cai Zhao gently persuaded, “Master Li, our brothers must be tired. You don’t need so many people guarding outside my room. As long as the dungeon is secure, what can I do?”

Seeing the girl’s sorrowful and resigned expression, Li Wenxun considered her words reasonable. Guarding Mu Qingyan would not only prevent Cai Zhao from making mistakes but also protect against a Demonic Cult rescue attempt.

So he withdrew the disciples from outside Cai Zhao’s room and assigned all hands to guard the dungeon. Before leaving, he instructed Fan Xingjia to watch over Cai Zhao.

After a long day’s journey, Fan Xingjia was exhausted. After washing up, he fell asleep on the lounge chair outside.

In the middle of the night, he vaguely saw a faint light by his pillow and heard someone rummaging through his bag. In his drowsy state, he turned over and saw a familiar figure sitting by his bed.

Why did it look familiar?

‘He’ looked just like himself—the same features, hair, and clothes. It was as if ‘he’ was sitting by his bedside, watching himself. How amusing…

Wait, something’s not right!

Before Fan Xingjia could fully awaken, a familiar strange odor wafted over, strong and pungent. Then his body went numb, and he lost consciousness completely.

The next morning, as daylight broke, the six sects gathered at Taichu Observatory’s Zhengyuan Hall. It was the day of Demonic Cult Master Mu Qingyan’s sentencing.

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