Текст книги "Благословение Небожителей. Том 6 (ЛП)"

Автор книги: Мосян Тунсю

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Xie Lian’s movement faltered, and he huffed. “What do you mean?”

“You came here, so I did too,” White No-Face answered languidly.

Xie Lian’s expression twisted upon hearing that. But no matter how furious he was, how strong his murderous intent, it was as if White No-Face could always predict his next strike and avoided each attack by mere millimeters. The more Xie Lian struck, the more he understood one cruel fact:

He couldn’t win!

“That’s right,” White No-Face said, like he was reading his mind. “You can’t win.”

As soon as he spoke those words, a blade pierced Xie Lian’s wrist. Excruciating pain spread throughout his body, and Xie Lian’s grip on his sword faltered. In the next second, White No-Face grabbed him by the hair and yanked him backward, bashing him into the ground!

Xie Lian’s ears were ringing, his nose and mouth were filled with the metallic taste of blood, and his head swam.

A little while later, Xie Lian felt a hand pull his head up from the shattered ground. A voice came from above.

“So sad, so pitiful.”

Xie Lian choked out a mouthful of blood.

“Every time I meet Your Highness, you always look like this,” White No-Face said. “Makes one ache. Makes one excited.”

Xie Lian swallowed another mouthful of blood, refusing to cough it out. “…Don’t be too smug,” he croaked. “I might not be able to win against you, but…someone can. Even if you emerge from the Kiln, Jun Wu will just kill you again.”

Besides, there was still Hua Cheng!

Yet White No-Face replied, “Who says I’m the one who will emerge from the Kiln?”

Xie Lian was shocked.

Not him? Who else could it be?

White No-Face lifted Xie Lian’s face to look him in the eyes. “Your Highness, I think you might have misunderstood,” he said amiably. “A supreme certainly will emerge from the Kiln, but it won’t be me. It will be you.”

“…What did you say?” Xie Lian stammered, shaken to the core. “I’m not…”

He understood before he even finished his sentence. His body broke out in a cold sweat.

“That’s right. That’s exactly it,” White No-Face said. “Congrat-ulations, you finally understand my real objective. Isn’t this the ‘Third Path’ you love so much?”

Right now, the only beings inside the Kiln were one supreme ghost and one god. On the surface, there were only two paths to take: either White No-Face would kill him and break through the Kiln, or they could forget about leaving and remain trapped inside forever.

But there was a third path. If Xie Lian killed himself, became a ghost, and defeated White No-Face, then he could become a supreme and break through the Kiln!

Xie Lian struggled to snap out of his shock. “…What the hell do you want?! Don’t even think about it! Why must you go this far—why would you force me to become a supreme? I’m not as crazy as you! Even if you want me to kill you, we both know that I can’t! And if you feign defeat, the Kiln might not recognize me!”

But White No-Face replied, “Is that right? You can’t defeat me? Don’t be so sure.”

As he spoke, he extended a hand. Thanks to the nearby firelight, Xie Lian could see that he was holding a mask—an exact duplicate of the one White No-Face wore.

“Do you remember this crying-smiling mask?” White No-Face asked. “It suits you well.”

Xie Lian’s eyes bulged. Terror crawled into his mind like a densely packed tide of insects.

“Take it away, take it away…take it away!” he forced out weakly.

White No-Face started to laugh. “It seems Your Highness’s memory isn’t very good. So why don’t you let me help you remember, hmm?”

He had no chance to protest. The tragically pale crying-smiling mask melded with the infinite darkness as it was pressed heavily onto Xie Lian’s face.

Chapter 95:

Penny for a Wandering Soul on Lantern Night

XIE LIAN JOLTED awake in horror.

Drenched in a cold sweat, he shot upright from where he’d been lying and buried his face in his hands.

He’d been jolted awake by a terrible nightmare. In it, his father and mother had committed suicide by hanging themselves with a white silk band. He had stared at their bodies with neither joy nor grief. He’d had no tears left to cry. Instead he woodenly prepared another white silk band for himself. Just as he stuck his head into the knot, he saw a white-clad man standing below him. The man was wearing a cry-smiling mask and was jeering at him. His heart jumped, the knot tightened, and crushing suffocation seized him.

And then, he woke up.

It was already daylight outside the window, and a voice came from the other side.

“Your Highness! Are you awake?”

“I’m awake!” Xie Lian answered offhandedly.

He violently panted for breath for a long while before he realized that he wasn’t sitting on a bed, but a straw mat. Although it was layered with plenty of straw and was unusually soft, it still wasn’t quite comfortable for him. Even now, he wasn’t used to such crude, simple bedding.

The one who had called for him was Feng Xin. He had gone out early in the morning and had just returned with food, and now he was outside urging Xie Lian to take his meal. Xie Lian acknowledged him and crawled out of bed.

The sense of suffocation in his dream was too real, and Xie Lian’s hand unconsciously went to his neck to touch it. He had only wanted to verify whether there really was a strangulation mark left there by a white silk noose—but unexpectedly, he did feel something.

Xie Lian was startled at first, and he pounced to grab a mirror that had been tossed nearby on the ground. When he looked at his reflection, he realized he had been touching the band of the black collar encircling his neck. He finally calmed himself and remembered everything.

It was the cursed shackle.

Xie Lian’s fingers probed at it.

There weren’t many privileges afforded to those banished from the heavens other than their now-mortal forms aging slower than a normal human’s. However, Jun Wu had shown mercy when he made Xie Lian’s cursed shackle and had added some accommodating clauses.

While the cursed shackle locked away Xie Lian’s spiritual powers, it also sealed his age and his physical body—he could neither grow old nor die. Furthermore, Jun Wu had told him this: “Everything in your previous life shall be forgiven if you manage to ascend again, and this shackle will be removed.”

But being forced to wear it was a bone-deep humiliation—it was hardly different from a brand seared onto a criminal’s face. Xie Lian grabbed a white silk band from nearby and moved to pull it over his head. Yet the moment he raised his hand, he recalled the terrifying feeling of slow strangulation from his dream. He hesitated.

In the end, he still wrapped the white silk band thoroughly around his neck and the bottom half of his face before going out.

Feng Xin and Mu Qing were already waiting for him outside. Feng Xin had brought back steaming hot buns and Mu Qing was slowly munching on one. Feng Xin passed two over to Xie Lian, but Xie Lian lost his appetite when he saw how bland, dry, and crude they were. He shook his head, refusing them.

“Your Highness, you have to eat something in the mornings. We have to work, and it’s not the kind that gets done sitting around,” Feng Xin said.

Mu Qing didn’t bother looking up. “Yeah. You can turn it down, but there’s nothing else to eat. You can pass out again if you want, but you’ll still have to eat this in the end.”

Feng Xin glared at him. “Watch your tone.”

Xie Lian had only lived as an ascended being for a few years, but he’d forgotten what it was like to need to eat. A few days ago, he had nearly fainted and had only realized afterward that he hadn’t eaten anything for several days. This was the incident Mu Qing was referring to.

Xie Lian didn’t want the two of them to start fighting so early in the morning, so he quickly changed the subject. “Let’s go. We don’t even know if we’ll find any work today.”

Not only had Xie Lian once been royalty, but he had also once possessed a celestial body that needed no sustenance—naturally, he’d never needed to worry about working for a living. But now…although he was still a crown prince, the Kingdom of Xianle was no more; although he was still a god, he had long been banished. Since he was essentially no different from a mortal at present, he needed to take care of all the normal matters of living. The trade of a cultivator was usually ghost-catching and performing religious services, but it wasn’t as though there was a constant supply of nefarious creatures to be exorcized or rituals that needed to be performed every day. Most of the time, they needed to find other temporary work, such as helping transport goods here or performing manual labor there.

But even these odd jobs weren’t always easy to get. There were far too many displaced, impoverished civilians right now, people who wouldn’t even ask for a wage when they saw there was work—they’d be willing to labor in exchange for a bun or half a bowl of rice. They’d swarm the open positions, and Xie Lian and his coterie couldn’t possibly compete. Even if they managed to grab something, after weighing the situation, Xie Lian might decide that someone else needed the work more.

Sure enough, they wandered for half the day and still they found nothing.

“Can’t we find something more stable and respectable to do?” Mu Qing grumbled.

“Rubbish. If something like that existed, we would’ve found it a long time ago,” Feng Xin said. “You need to show your face at any respectable job, and who doesn’t recognize His Highness? How would any stable work remain that way if he was recognized?”

Mu Qing stopped talking, and Xie Lian wrapped the white bandage covering the lower half of the face tighter. Indeed, they would have to flee if anyone recognized who he was, or they’d risk being beaten and chased away. Even if they applied for work as armed escorts, what employer would be comfortable hiring someone with an unknown background who wouldn’t show his face? They couldn’t exactly take up work as hitmen either, so their choices were very limited.

Gods didn’t need to worry about hunger, but mortals needed to eat. Xie Lian had never had to consider these matters when he was young, so this was the first time in decades that such a problem really seized him. Still, how could a god possibly understand the feelings of a starving devotee if they didn’t even know how it felt? How could they possibly empathize? At this point, he could only try to think of this experience as a form of training.

A sudden cacophony of gongs and drums came from not far away, and a large crowd started to gather to see what was happening. The three followed along and went over to watch. A few clowns and martial artists were hollering with all their might—they were martial street buskers.

“If all else fails, why don’t we go busk?” Mu Qing tried suggesting, not for the first time.

Xie Lian was considering the same thing, but Feng Xin spoke up before he could respond.

“Don’t be silly,” he said as he watched the buskers perform. “His Highness is highborn. How could he do something like that?”

Mu Qing rolled his eyes. “We’ve already carried bricks, so how is busking any different?”

“By carrying bricks, we feed ourselves using our own physical strength,” Feng Xin said. “Busking is entertainment for the masses; we would be forced to act as fools purely for their amusement. Of course it’s different!”

One of the clowns who was hopping around tripped and fell. The crowd roared with laughter as he pulled himself up and bent at the waist to bow, then picked up some scattered coins the crowd tossed to the ground. A deep discomfort surfaced in Xie Lian’s mind at the sight, and he shook his head forcefully, striking out busking as a viable path of employment.

“Fine,” Mu Qing replied, squinting at the display. “Then let’s start pawning stuff.”

“We’ve already pawned a lot of stuff,” Feng Xin said. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t have made it until now. Anything that’s left can’t be pawned.”

At that instant, surprised shouts rippled across the crowd. Someone yelled, “The soldiers are here! The soldiers are here!”

With that, the crowd broke up. Soon, a band of soldiers strutted down the street with an impressive air, holding weapons in their hands and sporting shiny new armor. They were interrogating anyone who appeared suspicious. Xie Lian and his coterie hid in the crowd and overheard the conversation of the people nearby.

“Who are they after?”

“Don’t worry, they’re not here to arrest us. I heard they’re trying to capture the Xianle royals who are still at large.”

“Apparently someone saw suspicious characters around here, so the city has been really strict with their searches lately.”

“Really?! My goodness, did they actually flee here?!”

Xie Lian and his companions exchanged looks.

“Let’s hurry back and check on things,” Xie Lian whispered.

The other two nodded. They silently left the crowd, splitting up. They only met up again after they’d walked a fair distance and confirmed they hadn’t attracted any attention, and once reunited, they hurried away.

They ran until they reached a small mountain forest out in the middle of nowhere. Xie Lian could see a thick column of smoke coming from within the trees, and terror struck him. Could the Yong’an soldiers have already discovered this place and set fires to kill them off?

They rushed until they found a rundown little cottage hidden in the trees, left behind by some unknown hunter. The thick smoke was coming from inside that cottage.

“Mother!” Xie Lian blurted. “What’s going on?! Are you there?”

A woman immediately emerged and greeted him happily. “My son? You’ve come?”

It was the queen. She was dressed in simple clothes and had grown quite thin—she looked fairly different from the noble lady she’d once been. Seeing that his mother was fine and that her face was full of delight, Xie Lian relaxed—but he quickly asked, “What’s with the smoke?”

“It’s nothing, really. I just wanted to do a little cooking today…” the queen replied, embarrassed.

Xie Lian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Don’t! What cooking? Just eat the food Feng Xin and Mu Qing bring you every day. The smoke is too conspicuous; where there’s smoke, there’s people. You’ll attract the Yong’an soldiers. We bumped into them in the city earlier. This city is tightening its security, so we’ll need to move again.”

Feng Xin and Mu Qing entered the cottage to extinguish the source of the smoke. The queen didn’t dare to be negligent either, so she went to the back room of the cottage to talk to the king.

Feng Xin came back outside. “Your Highness, you aren’t going inside to see His Majesty?” he whispered.

Xie Lian shook his head. “No.”

The two of them, father and son…one the king of a fallen kingdom, and the other a banished god. It was hard to say which was the more pathetic, the more disgraced of the pair. If they were forced to sit down and face each other, they’d only glare at one another instead of having a heart-to-heart. Avoiding that confrontation entirely was for the best.

“Mother, why don’t you start getting packed? We’ll leave today,” Xie Lian called out. “We’ll come pick you up in the evening and head out.”

The queen hurried outside again. “My son, you’re leaving so soon? You haven’t visited in days. Why leave so quickly?”

“I have to go train,” Xie Lian said.

In truth, he was going to look for work—they couldn’t possibly support this many people if he didn’t.

“Have you eaten yet this morning?” the queen asked.

Xie Lian shook his head. The three of them were starving.

“That’s terrible for your body,” the queen said. “Fortunately, I just stewed a pot of congee. Come in and grab a bite.”

Xie Lian wondered, Why was there so much smoke if it was just a pot of congee? It looked like an entire palace was in flames…

The queen turned to Feng Xin and Mu Qing. “You two children come eat with us too.”

Feng Xin and Mu Qing hadn’t at all expected to receive such treatment and tried to decline, but the queen was adamant. The two could only timidly sit down at the table, feeling rather surprised. In a good way.

But when the queen brought the pot over, their surprise soon turned to dread.

Even after they got back to the city, Mu Qing’s stomach was still churning. “I thought…the congee, smelled like, bran water, but I hadn’t imagined, it’d taste like, it too!” he said, stumbling over his words.

Feng Xin gritted his teeth. “Shut up! Don’t force us to remember that stuff! The queen is…highborn, after all… Never cooked… This is already… Ugh!”

Mu Qing humphed. “Am I wrong? If you don’t think it tasted like bran water, why don’t you…go ask the queen to grant you another bowl?! Ugh!”

The two were heaving as they argued back and forth, and Xie Lian grabbed hold of both of them to pat their backs.

“Get ahold of yourselves! Look, up ahead…it seems there’s some work available!”

As the three stumbled over, they could see a couple of little ringleaders shouting on the streets, looking for hired help. The pay was fairly decent, and there wasn’t a limit on the number of hands needed; they would take anyone who came. The three of them quickly signed up and joined the large group of disheveled, bone-skinny paupers. They were led to a muddy, empty field. It seemed the landowner intended to build a new residence here, so the area needed to be overhauled—and filling in the grounds came first. The trio worked hard, and they were quickly covered in mud.

Feng Xin hauled earth as he hugged his stomach, his face green and his mouth cursing. “Fuck me…! I think that pot of stewed bran water turned into a spirit in my stomach!”

Xie Lian was carrying a basket full of dirt. He looked back and said in a hushed voice, “Can you hang in there? Or…do you want to sit down for a bit?”

Mu Qing turned to Xie Lian. “Why don’t you go rest?”

“No. I can still hang on,” Xie Lian replied.

Mu Qing rolled his eyes. “Don’t be stubborn. I’m the one who has to wash your dirty clothes. I’d rather do your part of the work.”

Not far in the distance, someone yelled, “Put your backs into it and don’t talk! No slacking! You wanna get paid?”

Feng Xin was tenacious and continued to persevere, hauling twice as much mud as he had before. “It’s not like this pays that well—why make so much fuss? Who do they think they are?”

After a grueling day of toil from noon to sunset, the work was finally done. The trio weren’t completely physically exhausted, but their hearts were significantly more tired than their bodies—they had worked so hard for only a pittance and a bite to eat. When they were finally free, they lay down to rest on a part of the field that was slightly cleaner.

Just then, another rowdy, noisy group approached. Some men had arrived, their pace slow as they hauled a stone statue.

Xie Lian looked up slightly. “What statue is that?”

Mu Qing glanced at it as well. “Maybe a new divine statue to guard this place.”

Xie Lian said nothing.

If this was the past, the one chosen to watch over a residence would have undoubtedly been one of his own crown prince statues. But now, he didn’t know which god it’d be. It was most likely Jun Wu, or perhaps a newly ascended official.

Xie Lian did nothing for a long moment, but he just couldn’t resist wanting to see who had replaced him. He forced himself to stand up and shuffled over to the crowd to take a look.

The stone statue’s back was facing him, so he couldn’t see the face clearly. However, it seemed to be kneeling. Now Xie Lian was even more curious—which heavenly official would have a kneeling statue? He circled all the way around to get a better look.

When he saw the statue’s face, his entire mind went blank.

The divine statue’s face was his own!

The kneeling statue was settled onto the ground, and someone rudely patted its head.

“Finally got done hauling this thing. This bastard’s pretty heavy!”

“Why drag over a statue like this one? It’s kinda ugly. Why not get one of the Heavenly Emperor? Isn’t this what’s-his-face…”

“It’s that one, right? Didn’t they say that praying to him brings bad luck now? You guys still dare to do it? And going out of your way to transport his statue all the way here…”

“Now, now. None of you get it. Worshipping a God of Misfortune would obviously bring bad luck, but this statue isn’t for worshipping—it’s for stepping on. If you step on a God of Misfortune, doesn’t that mean everlasting good fortune is guaranteed?”

Understanding dawned on the crowd. “That’s so clever! Brilliant!”

Feng Xin and Mu Qing could sense something wrong, and they too fell silent when they saw it. Feng Xin was about to explode, but Mu Qing held him back, warning him with his eyes.

“The crown prince himself hasn’t started anything, so what are you going to yell about?” he said under his breath.

Indeed, he was keeping quiet. Feng Xin wasn’t sure whether Xie Lian had a reason to stay silent, so he didn’t dare move recklessly and forced himself to swallow his angry words. However, his eyes were blazing like flames.

Finally, someone grumbled, “Isn’t this rather…inappropriate? He was once a god—a crown prince.”

“Oh, please. Xianle has fallen, so what’s he crown prince of?”

“You’re wrong. There’s nothing inappropriate about stepping on a God of Misfortune,” another man added. “In fact, he should thank us.”

Xie Lian suddenly spoke up. “Oh? Why should he thank you?”

“Have you seen the thresholds of temples?” the man presumptuously began to explain. “They’re trampled by thousands, hundreds of thousands. And does my lord know how many wealthy households fight to pay for a temple’s threshold to act as their substitute? Every step on that threshold will absolve them of a sin, pay a spiritual debt, and earn a merit. This kneeling statue has the same function. If we step on its head or spit on it, aren’t we collecting merits for the crown prince? He should thank us…”

Xie Lian couldn’t listen anymore. His fist was already ready when that man said the word “thank,” and he lunged.

The crowd instantly exploded in excitement.

“What are you doing?!”

“A fight!”

“Who’s causing trouble?!”

Feng Xin had already been itching to beat people up, so he joined the brawl with a shout. As for Mu Qing, he wasn’t sure whether he’d joined of his own volition or been pulled in, but in any case, all three of them started fighting. In the chaos of the brawl, the white bandage on Xie Lian’s face was almost yanked off a number of times—however, it luckily didn’t happen. The three of them were skilled in martial arts, but their opponents had the strength of numbers. They had an additional advantage in that Mu Qing held the other two back with warnings that killing mortals would only add to their crimes. The fight ended up being miserably restrained—though gratifying nonetheless—and in the end, the trio was chased off.

They walked alongside a river for a while, looking unkempt. Eventually, their steps slowed.

“We worked so hard all day, but in the end, we gained nothing. And all because of a fight!” Mu Qing complained angrily, his face black and blue.

Feng Xin wiped at the blood on his mouth. “How can you bring up money at a time like this?”

“It’s precisely because it’s a time like this that I need to bring up money!” Mu Qing countered. “‘A time like this’? What time is it? A time when we’re starving! Whether you want to admit it or not, we can’t do anything without money! Couldn’t you two have restrained yourselves a little?”

Xie Lian didn’t speak.

“How could we? People made statues of him kneeling solely for the purpose of stepping on him!” Feng Xin said. “You’re not the one whose face is being stepped on, so of course you can dismiss it.”

“It’s not the first time that something like this has happened since the war was lost,” Mu Qing said. “And it surely won’t be the last. If he can’t get used to it soon, he might as well just die.”

“Get used to it? Get used to what? Being humiliated by others? Mortals stepping on his face?” Feng Xin argued, clearly finding the idea offensive. “Why should he have to get used to something like that?”

“That’s enough!” Xie Lian cried out in irritation. “Stop arguing. Is something this small worth fighting over?”

The two of them shut up at once.

After a pause, Xie Lian sighed. “Let’s go and find a carriage to pick up Mother and Father. We’re leaving the city tonight.”

“All right,” Feng Xin acknowledged.

Feng Xin and Xie Lian set off side by side, but they quickly noticed that Mu Qing didn’t follow.

Xie Lian looked back, confused. “Mu Qing?”

After a moment of silence, Mu Qing said, “Your Highness, I want to talk to you about something.”

“What is it?” Xie Lian asked.

“What’s wrong now? I already said I won’t argue with you anymore. What more do you want?” Feng Xin said impatiently.

“I want to leave,” Mu Qing said simply.

“…”

Xie Lian already had a vague, bad feeling before Mu Qing even opened his mouth, but his breath still hitched when his companion actually said it.

Feng Xin thought he might have heard wrong. “What? What did you say?”

Mu Qing straightened his back. His obsidian eyes were unyielding, and his demeanor was calm. “Please permit me to leave.”

“Leave?” Feng Xin exclaimed. “What will His Highness do if you leave? What about the king and queen?”

Mu Qing opened and closed his mouth a couple times, but in the end, he still said, “I’m sorry to ask this, but my hands are tied.”

“No! You explain yourself right now! What the heck do you mean, ‘your hands are tied’?” Feng Xin demanded.

“The king and queen are His Highness’s parents, but I have my own mother to worry about,” Mu Qing replied. “She also needs my care. I can’t neglect my own mother for the sake of someone else, or someone else’s parents. I pray Your Highness will understand that I cannot stay at your side.”

Xie Lian felt faint and leaned against a nearby wall.

“Is that the real reason?” Feng Xin questioned coldly. “How come you’ve never mentioned it before?”

“It is one of my reasons,” Mu Qing replied. “Another reason is that I feel we’ve become mired in this situation and have very different ideas on how to pull ourselves out. Pardon my honesty, but if we keep going like this, nothing will get better—even in a million years. And so, our paths have diverged.”

Feng Xin was so angry he began to laugh. He nodded and turned to Xie Lian. “Your Highness, you hear that? Remember what I said back then? I said that he’d be the first to run off if you were ever banished. Didn’t I tell you?”

Mu Qing seemed aggravated by his words. “Please stop trying to guilt trip me, thanks,” he requested flatly. “I’m only speaking the truth. Everyone has their own outlook. No one was born to be the center of the world, the justice of the Mortal Realm. Perhaps you enjoy orbiting around another person, but others might not feel the same.”

“Well, don’t you have a load of sour, veiled excuses? I don’t give a damn,” Feng Xin said. “Is it so hard to admit you’re an ungrateful traitor?”

“Enough!”

At the sound of Xie Lian’s voice, the two of them stopped arguing. Xie Lian removed his hand from his forehead and turned to Mu Qing. He stared at him for a while before he spoke.

“I don’t like forcing people.”

Mu Qing’s lips pursed, but he still stood tall.

“Go,” Xie Lian said.

Mu Qing looked at him, not saying a word. Then he bowed deeply, turned around, and walked away.

Feng Xin stared at his retreating back without blinking as it disappeared into the night. “Your Highness, you really let him go, just like that?” Feng Xin said in disbelief.

Xie Lian sighed. “What else can I do? I just said I don’t like forcing people.”

“No… But…? That bastard!” Feng Xin exclaimed. “What’s with him? He actually left?! He ran off?! What the fuck!”

Xie Lian crouched on the riverside, rubbing his forehead. “Never mind it. If his heart has already left us, what’s the use in making him stay? Should I tie him up and force him to wash my clothes?”

Feng Xin didn’t know what else to say either and crouched beside him. A moment later he spat angrily, “Goddammit. That bastard was happy to share the wealth but not the suffering. He ran away the moment things got tough. Does he remember nothing of your kindness?!”

“I’m the one who told him not to remember it,” Xie Lian said. “So…you don’t need to bring it up constantly.”

“But he couldn’t possibly forget it for real?!” Feng Xin refuted. “What the actual fuck! Don’t you worry, Your Highness. I will never, ever leave you.”

Xie Lian forced a small smile but said nothing. Feng Xin stood back up.

“Shall we go pick up the king and queen? I’ll find a carriage—you just wait here.”

Xie Lian nodded. “Thanks. Be careful.”

Feng Xin acknowledged him and left. Xie Lian also rose to his feet and walked alongside the river for a while. His whole body still felt a little unsteady, like nothing was real.

Mu Qing’s departure had truly shocked him to the core.

He never expected someone so close to him to leave just like that. Xie Lian had always believed in “forever”—friends would always be friends forever, with no betrayal, no deception, no breaking up. Perhaps there would come a time when they had to part, but it wouldn’t be for a reason like “things got too horrible.”

In all the stories he’d read, the hero and the beauty were a match made in heaven. They never parted and would remain true to each other forever and ever—and if they couldn’t, it would be because they were forced apart by a tragic death and not because the hero preferred to eat meat while the beauty preferred fish, or because the hero scorned the beauty for spending too lavishly and the beauty scorned the hero for his bad habits.

It wasn’t a pleasant feeling to lose your footing and plunge millions of miles, only to find yourself still in the Mortal Realm when you hit the ground.

As Xie Lian randomly wandered, he suddenly saw shimmering golden lights floating ahead. The sight snapped Xie Lian out of his haze. On closer inspection, he saw the lights were lanterns—lantern after lantern floated on the water, drifting with the river’s current. There was a pair of children laughing and playing by the riverside.

“Ah, today is Zhongyuan,” Xie Lian remembered.

There had been a grand service at the Royal Holy Temple for the Zhongyuan Festival every year; he’d always looked forward to it and would have never just forgotten. But now, it had completely slipped his mind. He shook his head and continued on his way.