RONG YAN DIDN'T LOOK at her husband. She wept, her almond eyes swimming with tears and her back very straight. "For the sake of what we had, will you at least let me give birth to the child?"
Xu Shuanglin glanced downward, eyes sliding over Rong Yan's belly. Nothing seemed amiss at first glance, but upon further study, one might notice a slight swell.
Rong Yan was kneeling, but her face was composed. "Please."
Xu Shuanglin said nothing.
"Their father has sinned, undeniably. But Nangong Xu, I beg of you to spare the child."
Xu Shuanglin stared at the woman, finding her words ridiculous. Spare the bastard in her belly? Whether a nephew or a niece, what did that unformed lump of flesh have to do with him?
In that hateful moment, he recalled the pain he'd felt in the night. Xu Shuanglin paused. Perhaps this was a marvelous development. The sect leader position could either be passed to an heir upon their predecessor's death or be taken by force. One could neither abdicate nor resign. Xu Shuanglin could never give Nangong Liu the position, but in a hundred years, he could hand it off to Nangong Liu's child, with all the agonies it entailed. Wouldn't that be perfect? The sins of the father borne by the son. How poetic.
A delighted grin spread over his face. Without waiting for his two prisoners to react, he turned and left the prison, cackling.
In the end, he killed neither Nangong Liu nor Rong Yan. He kept them captive in a small courtyard, planning to name their child his successor via blood oath as soon as they were born. When the time came, wouldn't the world be forced to praise his leniency and forbearance?
But that day never came. Upon taking up his position, his many heinous acts stirred too much resentment both within and without the sect. Eventually, hatred drove one of his city lords to release Nangong Liu and Luo Fenghua behind his back.
Luo Fenghua had never been apprised of the truth of what had happened at the Spiritual Mountain Competition and still thought Xu Shuanglin had committed these atrocities solely to take the position of sect leader. Nangong Liu's clever beguilement only worsened things. By this point, he had lost all faith in his disciple. He joined forces with Nangong Liu to wrest power from Xu Shuanglin, ousting him from the position he'd barely had the chance to enjoy.
Rufeng Sect was again rocked by a coup. Hundreds were killed or wounded. Amid the raging flames, Luo Fenghua found Xu Shuanglin hiding in Moonwhistle Fields.
The moon was full that night. Xu Shuanglin was in agony, lying within the trees and slicked in blood like a flayed snake. Everywhere on him was the red of open wounds. Luo Fenghua thought he'd been injured in the battle. Even if he believed in his guilt, the sight of his previously beloved disciple in such a wretched state still made his heart twinge.
Xu Shuanglin looked up, trembling, and showed him a thin smile. "You've come."
Luo Fenghua said nothing.
"When we fight, you always take his side."
"You're the one who went too far this time," said Luo Fenghua. "Did you kill Master Tianchan?"
"Yep."
"What about Lin-daozhang?"
"He deserved to die."
"…And what about your father?"
Xu Shuanglin paused. "He was unjust; he believed I was in the wrong. He brought this upon himself."
Luo Fenghua closed his eyes, lashes damp. "How…how have you fallen so far…"
Xu Shuanglin snickered. "So they can hurt me, but I can't hurt them back? They can stab me, but I can't defend myself? Is this the gentlemanly conduct you preach?"
Face crumpling, Luo Fenghua swayed, then approached Xu Shuanglin. His tears fell before he could say any more.
"What are you crying for? What's there to cry about?" Xu Shuanglin raged. "If you want to kill me or torture me, go ahead. Spare me your crocodile tears. To you, and to the old man and everyone else—that wastrel will always be more important than me!"
Shaking his head, Luo Fenghua raised one hand and silently recited a sealing spell. "I've locked away the techniques you learned from me. Nangong Xu, from today forth, you and I are no longer master and disciple."
Xu Shuanglin felt his heart spasm. The gun's curse set fire to every nerve. But he didn't move, keeping up the pretense of ferocity. "Don't flatter yourself. I've never considered you my shifu."
Luo Fenghua stared at him in silence. Just as it looked as if he'd speak, there rose a clamor from behind.
The fighting had spilled into the field, blades gleaming in the firelight. Nangong Liu rushed over. "Shizun!" The sight of Xu Shuanglin and Luo Fenghua talking filled him with dread. "Shizun!" he shouted anxiously. "Don't listen to him! He's lying to trick you!"
Xu Shuanglin started laughing. Even now this brother of his was so adorably naïve. He thought Xu Shuanglin would cling to Luo Fenghua's robes and explain all the circumstances that led them here. But he wouldn't. To him, life was a game of chess. Once the piece was placed, all the twists and turns and whirling storms behind the move were no longer important. Only the consequences were.
A kill was a kill. Blood spilled was blood spilled. He couldn't wash it away, nor did he want to. There was no chance Luo Fenghua would spare him. There was nothing more he needed to say.
Bracing himself against a nearby tree, Xu Shuanglin staggered to his feet. When the moonlight hit his face, the flesh split in a welter of blood.
Nangong Liu and the other cultivators took a step back. Someone exclaimed, "D-did Luo-daozhang do this? Mutilating him like this…surely that's a bit much…?"
Xu Shuanglin grinned, white on bloody red. As he stared at his brother, he realized he couldn't let this master-disciple pair off so easily. He turned to Luo Fenghua. "Send them away. There's something I want to tell you before I die. Only you."
Hands against the trunks of the pines for support, Xu Shuanglin hobbled into the darkness of the trees with Luo Fenghua following behind. The thick branches hid the moon, and Xu Shuanglin's pained expression eased. The split skin started to heal at once; though his face was still marred by tiny wounds, it was no longer so horrifying to behold.
Xu Shuanglin didn't turn around. Back to Luo Fenghua, he asked, "You really came with me. Aren't you afraid I'll kill you?"
"You wouldn't."
Xu Shuanglin said nothing.
"If you wanted to kill me or A-Liu, you'd have done it a year ago."
Xu Shuanglin snapped around, twisted light shining in his eyes. "Ridiculous! You think you know me so well?!"
Luo Fenghua's eyes widened. "Your wounds…"
"Not so scary now, right?" Xu Shuanglin started laughing. "What did you think it was? A spell? Lingchi fruit?"
He lifted his hand, showing the shining sect leader's ring sitting loose in his palm. His lips parted as he mockingly said, "This ring is imbued with a spirit. When you and Nangong Liu deposed me, it fell from my thumb. It knows I'm no longer the true leader of Rufeng Sect, but there were two masterminds behind the coup. It doesn't know whom to choose."
"You took A-Liu's rightful place. Of course it should go to him."
Xu Shuanglin grinned. "That's what I thought too." He placed the ring in Luo Fenghua's palm, patting his hand with all seriousness. "Take it; take good care of it. When you leave here, give him this wonderful piece of his heritage. Remember to put it on his finger yourself. He's the real leader of this sect."
He paused, staring at Luo Fenghua's expression of masked pain, then bent to whisper in his ear. "I'll tell you a secret. Don't be afraid; it's nothing dark. It's just the story of a bygone hero, that's all."
Slowly, calmly, he told Luo Fenghua the tale of Nangong Changying's defeat of the gun and the ensuing curse on generations of Rufeng Sect's leaders. He soaked each syllable in cruelty, transforming them into fangs that bit deep into Luo Fenghua's flesh.
He saw Luo Fenghua pale. Saw those round eyes widen. He pushed Luo Fenghua against a tree and watched him tremble. What a delightful result.
Ha. Didn't you love him best? All of you…each of you…didn't you all treat this trueborn Nangong like a treasure? Now you'll take this poison to him yourself.
Xu Shuanglin's smirk widened into a ghoulish smile. He stroked Luo Fenghua's cheek. "Shizun, that's the end of the story. Go on now." He beamed brighter. "Go pay your respects to the sixth leader of Rufeng Sect—Nangong Liu. Go on ahead."
That night, Xu Shuanglin fled Rufeng Sect on his sword, covered in blood. After flying for hours, he landed exhausted in Sichuan—Butterfly Town.
There he encountered a little girl sitting in her yard, who'd gone white at the sight of his wounds and bloody clothes. She'd trembled in terror, yet still brought him a full bowl of water from inside the house. As he stared at her, he realized that somehow, this little girl resembled his best friend, his dearest teacher and worst enemy. Her eyes looked so much like Luo Fenghua's.
He saw the tangerine tree over the wall laden with fruit. Suddenly he wanted one very badly. But that girl spoke of nothing but stinking principles and how gentlemen should do this or do that. He loathed it. It reminded him of that ridiculous man Luo Fenghua who'd once said with complete seriousness, I wish for you two to stay in your golden years all your lives. Use your own talents to be gentlemen forever.
A gentleman forever… What a colossal joke.
He knocked the tangerines all over the ground and cut the tree down before swaggering off, leaving the girl to sob her eyes out in the yard. But that wasn't enough to satisfy him; he went on a rampage killing villagers. The more times his knife fell, the further he strayed from the idea of a gentleman, the better he felt.
Then he left. He adopted a new identity, intending to live the rest of his life that way—until the day he overheard in a teashop that Luo Fenghua had usurped the position of Rufeng Sect's leader.
The customers had been chattering away. "Ah, who would've thought. Truly, you never know with some people."
"Poor Nangong Liu—risked his life in a coup, all for someone else's gain."
"He probably hates his shifu, right?"
"Greed blackened that Luo Fenghua's heart. What an asshole."
Xu Shuanglin sat before the greasy table, holding a cup to his mouth. But he didn't drink. He only listened in a daze. His vision was darkening; he felt dizzy.
He had never imagined Luo Fenghua might make such a choice. To choose infamy, hatred, the criticism and disdain of all—to take on the curse himself, enduring pain every full moon until the end of his very life—rather than push the knife into his disciple's heart.
He'd made the wrong move after all.
The echo of footsteps drew Xu Shuanglin from his memories. When he blinked his eyes, a young man's face appeared in his hazy vision. Atop the empty Soul-Summoning Platform, Mo Ran had knelt to look at him.
Xu Shuanglin found this young man's eyes deeply strange. Too much was hidden in that gaze; these weren't the eyes of a youth in his twenties.
"Nangong Xu, you did all of this to bring him back to life?"
"None of your business."
"You let Nangong Liu live, and you would have resurrected Luo Fenghua. After this, no one could've breached Mount Jiao. You were planning to live out the rest of your life here, weren't you?"
"None of your business!" Xu Shuanglin snarled.
Mo Ran picked up that shattered spiritual core. Light still glimmered within. "You changed your appearance and returned to Nangong Liu as Xu Shuanglin, then urged him to usurp the position once again. You couldn't bear the thought of Luo Fenghua in pain, night after night without reprieve."
"What right do you have to assume anything?!" Xu Shuanglin's eyes were scarlet, flashing with tearful sharpness. "You think you understand it all?!"
"I don't. I can only guess," said Mo Ran. "But judging by your expression, I'm not too far off."
Xu Shuanglin bit each word through his teeth. "The madness of the young."
"As you say. Weren't you just as mad when you were twenty?" Mo Ran watched him quietly. "Nangong Xu, you pushed your brother to reclaim the position of sect leader, but you never thought he'd be so ruthless on his second attempt. You never imagined he would kill Luo Fenghua after taking the seat, nipping future problems in the bud. You never thought Luo Fenghua might die."
He stared into Xu Shuanglin's face. "You were lost; you didn't know what to do." Mo Ran knew better than anyone how that kind of despair felt. He was reading Xu Shuanglin's thoughts, and his own. "In your despair, what else could you do?"