Chapter 70:
This Venerable One Returns
CHU WANNING WASN’T some weakling that just anyone could threaten. There was a flash of golden light—Mo Ran could’ve sworn he saw some kind of weapon in Xia Sini’s hand, but it was gone in less than an instant—and then both of Xiaoman’s hands had been sheared clean off, wrists and all.
Xiaoman screamed and stumbled backward. He had only one usable limb remaining, now that even his hands were gone.
The hands that had seized Chu Wanning dropped to the ground. Chu Wanning stood up, enraged, his expression dark as never before. His lips moved slightly, like he might say something. In the end, he seemed too angry for words and turned away, his face pale.
Mo Ran rushed over and pulled him close. “Shidi, are you okay? Are you hurt?”
In Mo Ran’s arms, Chu Wanning only shook his head, too disgusted to speak.
Despite everything, the Xiaoman in front of them was merely an illusion of someone who had once lived two hundred years ago. Chu Wanning wiped the blood splatters from his face. “As you saw,” he said quietly, “staying here won’t be any safer for me than going out with you. I can take care of myself. I won’t slow you down.”
Mo Ran had heard about his little shidi’s skill from Xue Meng, but he had never seen it for himself until now. It was, admittedly, quite eye-opening. “Sure, you’re pretty impressive, but…”
Chu Wanning pushed harder. “I’m also familiar with all kinds of weapons, so I can give you pointers from the side.”
“But…”
Chu Wanning lifted his eyes. “Won’t you trust me, just this once?”
Mo Ran fell silent.
“Shixiong.” Chu Wanning had meant to emphasize the sincerity of his words, but with this young, tender voice, it came out all softly adorable instead, almost like he was acting cute. When Chu Wanning heard his own voice, he was flummoxed.
Mo Ran blinked, then started rapidly scratching his head in confusion and going, “aaaah,” before burying his face in both hands. A long moment passed with his face thus buried before he said, “That, um, see, I’m just worried that…you, uh…”
Two whole lives, and this was the first time a kid had called out to him so sweetly. Mo Ran felt genuinely, incredibly close to the boy at this moment, as if they were blood brothers.
When Mo Ran hated someone, he hated them to the bone, but to those he cherished, he was extremely tender. When he finished clawing at his head and finally looked back up at Chu Wanning from where he was crouched, the tips of his ears had turned red.
If only he’d really had a little brother, maybe he wouldn’t have been so lonely.
Unfortunately for Mo Ran, his reaction was noticed. Chu Wanning hesitated a little, then said experimentally, in a small voice, “Shige.”
“Shige” was an even more familiar form of address than “Shixiong.” Mo Ran braced his forehead against a hand. He was seriously at his limit, unable to even form words.
Chu Wanning glanced knowingly at Mo Ran and mentally filed away this weak point. He figured that since he was, at present, already in a child’s body, and since Mo Ran hadn’t the slightest idea who he actually was, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. He opened his mouth again, and out came a soft, saccharine sweet: “Ge.”
“…”
“Gege.”
“………”
“Mo Ran-gege.”
“Aaaaaah! Okay, okay! I’ll take you, I’ll take you! Stop saying that!” Mo Ran jumped to his feet, face bright red, and rubbed at the goosebumps on his arms. “All right, fine. Come along, then. You win, okay? You win. Oh my god.”
Hands clasped behind his back, Chu Wanning tilted his head and smiled a tiny smile. “Let’s go, then.”
As he walked leisurely toward the door, he heard Mo Ran mumbling quietly behind him: “Where in the heavens did he learn that from? I nearly died from the sugar overload, holy crap…”
Chu Wanning had originally been in a dreadful state of mind after what happened with Chu Xun, but now he felt the gloom in his chest slowly lifting.
Then he heard Mo Ran ask: “Oh yeah, what was Shidi going to say earlier?”
Chu Wanning turned around and replied evenly, “Ah. That.”
“Hm?”
“I forgot.”
Mo Ran eyed him.
“If I remember it later, I’ll tell Mo Ran-gege then…”
“Aaaaaaaah—stop! Don’t say that one! Shixiong is fine! Shixiong is enough!” Mo Ran waved his hands frantically.
Chu Wanning’s eyes were like a pair of deep puddles, and the corners of his lips quirked with a hint of a smile. “If you say so, Shixiong. Anyway, I think the ghost king will show up soon. This illusion is based on the memories of survivors, and those survivors have left Lin’an by now, so it probably won’t last much longer.”
“That makes sense… We should be able to get out once we defeat him, right? I’m gonna find whoever it was that manifested the illusion and tried to kill us!”
Chu Wanning nodded. “Fortunately for us, judging by his battle with Chu Xun earlier, this ghost king isn’t too strong. In fact, he might be the weakest of the nine kings. Although the illusion has been manifested, it seems to me that whoever did it probably thought I was an ordinary six-year-old and didn’t expect me to be able to help take care of this.”
Mo Ran nodded along. “Sounds about right.”
Chu Wanning continued, “So rather than saying that he tried to kill us, it would be more accurate to say that I was never part of the equation. In truth, he’s only after you, Shixiong.”
Mo Ran nodded even more vigorously. “Checks out.”
“After we get out of here, Shixiong must make sure to tell Xue Meng about this. Something is afoot in Peach Blossom Springs, and we have to be careful from here on out. Though let’s not dwell on that for the time being. Shixiong, please lead the way. I won’t slow you down.”
Chu Wanning’s prediction was spot-on. By three in the morning, the massacre in the city was winding down. A bloody rift cracked open the sky, and green smoke poured over the wreckage to solidify into the shape of a hunched-over man.
The man’s eyes were bright scarlet, and his skin was ashen pale; half of his body had flesh and skin, but the other half was stark, exposed bone. He stalked through the corpse-littered city with a black banner in tow, absorbing the pain and resentment of the newly deceased as he passed.
Mo Ran studied the man’s face from where they were hidden. “So that’s him?” There was a hint of relief in his voice.
It was obvious to Chu Wanning why he sounded relieved, but he had no intention of revealing himself yet, and a six-year-old wouldn’t know this sort of thing. So he looked up at Mo Ran with feigned cluelessness. “What do you mean?”
“You guessed right. The nine kings of the ghost realm differ in strength, and this one is indeed the weakest among them,” Mo Ran said in a quiet voice as he watched the figure approach from behind a window. “We lucked out.”
“What does Shixiong think of our odds?”
“Ninety percent. Always best not to be too confident, you know?”