Shen Qiao’s eyes stayed closed while they spoke. He neither opened them nor raised his head, his expression so calm and placid it was as if the entire conversation had nothing to do with him.
“Yuan Xiuxiu came to this venerable one openly to discuss killing you. However, she’s also been dallying with the Göktürks in secret. What are you going to do?”
A flash of anger flickered across Sang Jingxing’s face, but then he resumed his smile. “That bitch has always been a double-crossing backstabber—it’s not news to me. When and where did Sect Leader Yan agree to meet with her?”
“The sixth of June, three in the afternoon,” said Yan Wushi. “Yichixue Temple, east of the city. She said you like stopping by there.”
Sang Jingxing raised his brow. “Not bad, she truly does know my interests inside and out.”
From the name Yichixue,18 it was obvious it wasn’t a proper temple but private property disguised as one. Lately, Sang Jingxing had taken a liking to a new type of game. He’d find some girls, shave their heads, dress them up as young nuns, and have them live in the temple. Then he would enter the temple acting out the role of a rapist and play with the girls to his heart’s content. One session usually lasted more than half a day. It was supposed to be a secret of secrets, but if he could keep track of Yuan Xiuxiu’s movements, then Yuan Xiuxiu could naturally be informed of his as well.
Sang Jingxing laughed. “Then I must humbly invite Sect Leader Yan to come and see the show when the time arrives. Since that bitch wants to kill me, she can’t blame me for putting aside old affections.”
Yan Wushi had no interest in the feud between the two, but a unified, powerful Hehuan Sect would of course do him no good. What Yuan Xiuxiu and Sang Jingxing were doing now, slaughtering one another, was exactly what he wanted to see, so he didn’t mind stoking the fires of their conflict.
He bent down and grasped Shen Qiao by the chin. “Do you still take me for a friend?”
Shen Qiao said nothing.
All of a sudden, Yan Wushi laughed. “Ah, A-Qiao, you really are far too naive. How many times have you been mistreated? How did you manage to forget it all so soon? I told you very early on that the only reason I saved you was because I wanted an opponent. But, truly, you’ve disappointed me terribly. I showed you a tiny bit of kindness, and you latched on to it, refusing to let go. Did the betrayal by Yu Ai and the rest make you yearn for more friendship and affection?”
Perhaps it was the breath accompanying his words, fanning toward Shen Qiao, but Shen Qiao’s eyelashes trembled slightly. His face, however, remained completely blank. Perhaps the sheer despair had killed his heart completely, or perhaps he simply had no interest in answering Yan Wushi’s question.
“People as naive as you are doomed to live short lives,” said Yan Wushi. “Without Xuandu Mountain, without Qi Fengge’s radiance, you’re nothing, and you’re capable of nothing. You can’t recover your martial arts, nor can you resolve my doubts. If you’re willing to enter Huanyue Sect and cultivate with the Fenglin Scriptures, then my venerable self may still grant you a chance to survive.”
Shen Qiao finally opened his eyes. “The reason I’m met with betrayal after betrayal isn’t because I’m naive,” he said evenly. “It’s because I believe that kindness will always exist. If there were no fools like me, where would Sect Leader Yan find your pleasure?”
Yan Wushi burst into loud laughter. “Interesting words!”
He said to Shen Qiao, “My venerable self doesn’t need friends. Only one kind of person is qualified to stand as my equal: an opponent. And you? You no longer qualify.”
At that, Yan Wushi rose, then threw Shanhe Tongbei into Shen Qiao’s arms. “A-Qiao,” he said gently. “Pray for yourself.”
Sang Jingxing watched their exchange, smiling, with absolutely no intention of stopping them or intervening. It wasn’t until Yan Wushi left that he clicked his tongue. “How does it feel, being abandoned?”
Shen Qiao closed his eyes and went silent, as before.
He was already a fish in a net, primed for slaughter—Sang Jingxing wasn’t in any hurry to get started.
It was a pleasant surprise to him that he’d caught Shen Qiao. The other man was a shadow of his former self, and there were no great benefits to be gotten from him—plus he wasn’t Sang Jingxing’s type. But the fact that he was Qi Fengge’s disciple and the former sect leader of Xuandu Mountain was enough to excite Sang Jingxing.
When he thought about Shen Qiao crying and begging for mercy beneath him, or imagined himself humiliating Shen Qiao before the disciples in Hehuan Sect, Sang Jingxing’s smile grew all the wider.
“This is the sword Shanhe Tongbei that Qi Fengge once used, right? Yes, it is, I still remember. Your master used this sword to defeat me once. But I was shameless enough to kneel and beg for mercy, so in the end he let me go. Even today there’s a scar on my back so deep you can see the bones beneath! If he knew that his disciple would fall into my hands today, would he regret not killing me back then?”
Sang Jingxing stroked Shen Qiao’s face. “Which hand did you use to kill Huo Xijing? Don’t be afraid, I won’t kill you. Once I tire of playing with you, I’ll chop off your hand and offer it to my poor disciple’s memory. Then I’ll do what Gao Wei did and strip off all your clothes so that everyone can admire the shameful performance of Xuandu Mountain’s former sect leader. How about it?”
Under the moonlight, Shen Qiao’s face shone cold and pale, without even a trace of emotion. He looked like a white jade sculpture—beautiful, but fragile.
But the more he acted that way, the higher Sang Jingxing’s interest surged.
His entire life, Sang Jingxing’s favorite thing to do was to utterly destroy beautiful things. To make them so filthy and dirty that they could only struggle in the darkness, miring themselves in it.
“However, Consort Feng Xiaolin charges ten thousand gold per glance. You won’t be able to do the same, so why don’t we tentatively set the price at ten gold? I’m sure many people will still be willing to pay for a glimpse of you so wretched. When the time comes, do you think Yan Wushi will come watch too?” he said, unhurried. Then, as if he thought he’d provoked his prey enough, he reached out to grab Shanhe Tongbei.