Master: “Gurong…”
Shen Gurong stared blankly at him, seemingly unable to comprehend.
He asked softly, as if asking a question he didn't understand.
“Why save someone?”
“Why must I be the one to live?”
“What is your purpose?”
Shen Gurong seemed to have grown up overnight, all his naive delusions about the world vanishing.
There is no such thing as unearned kindness in this world.
He didn't consider himself a particularly good person. Having lived for so many years, he had accomplished nothing but joking and fooling around. Back in Tang City, there were so many people better than him—his brother, his sister, and the more outstanding boys in the private school. Why was it that he was the one who had survived?
The master stared at Shen Gurong's lifeless, ashen eyes for a long time, raising his hand to touch his, but Shen Gurong slightly turned his head away.
“Don't touch me,” Shen Gurong said coldly.
The master had no choice but to withdraw his hand. He sighed softly and said, "I did have a purpose."
Shen Gurong remained silent, staring blankly at him.
He had experienced too much in just a few hours, so much that his face could no longer display any other expression.
It seemed that any expression would be wrong.
"The entire Huitang City is now shrouded in an array. Unless the thirteen plague demons slaughter all the living, leaving only one plague demon alive, the array can not be broken," the man said. "And I am the guardian of the divine artifact, unable to form a karmic bond with the Three Realms, otherwise I will surely suffer divine punishment."
"Hmm." Shen Gurong's face was numb. "So, the immortal intends to let the thirteen plague demons kill each other, and then let me become the new plague demon, living alone, is that right?"
Hearing this distant "immortal," the master's eyelashes trembled slightly, as if he were somewhat saddened.
He hesitated for a moment before softly saying, "No, the plague demons who survive alone will attain enlightenment through slaughter and ascend to sainthood..."
As he spoke, the bamboo flute in his hand suddenly emitted a light. He flicked his finger, and the flute instantly split in the middle. With a whoosh, a long bamboo scroll unfurled from the flute and floated before him, covered with densely packed characters.
The scroll seemed to have been chipped in the struggle with the water demon. The master glanced at it, his brow furrowing slightly.
"The words of the Records of the Capital..." the master murmured, "You are the only survivor from Huitang City..."
He paused for a moment before, under Shen Gurong's deathly gaze, softly finishing the last half of his sentence: "And someone untouched by the plague."
Shen Gurong didn't understand, giving a perfunctory "Oh," and calmly shifting his gaze to the window.
The courtyard of Fanjiang Residence was filled with blooming evening mist flowers. Shen Gurong stared blankly at them, his face streaked with tears. At this moment, Shen Gurong seemed to have had his soul ripped out. Even knowing that the master had mentioned him as the sole survivor, he felt neither relief nor joy; he felt no fear or sorrow.
He stared at the courtyard full of evening mist flowers for a long time before softly murmuring, "I didn't want to live. Perhaps the Record of the Capital, as the immortal spoke of, is wrong." Going to the Yellow Springs Road sooner might allow him to catch up with his family.
The Record of the Capital, a divine artifact coveted by all in the Three Realms, was dismissed by Shen Gurong as "wrong." Anyone else here would surely scoff at his ignorance and mock his naiveté.
Seeing that Shen Gurong was willing to speak with him, the master's expression softened, and he said softly, "The Record of the Capital cannot be wrong."
Shen Gurong didn't even glance at the Record of the Capital floating in mid-air, as if chatting casually, and said woodenly, "Then if I were to commit suicide right here, wouldn't that prove it's wrong?"
The master was speechless.
“You cannot die.” The master pondered for a moment, then said, “Don’t you want to know who released the thirteen plague demons into Huitang City? Don’t you want to avenge your parents and family?”
Shen Gurong, who had been expressionless, actually laughed upon hearing this.
“Teacher,” Shen Gurong said indifferently, though his lips were curved in a smile, his lifeless eyes held no trace of amusement, “I remember you said in the morning lesson last month that hatred is an endless cycle, and that we should be kind-hearted and not easily harbor resentment towards others.”
The master was taken aback.
Shen Gurong stared intently at him: "And now, you force me to harbor resentment and be trapped in a cycle of reincarnation?"
The master pursed his lips, unusually speechless at Shen Gurong's words. He said softly, "I just want you to live."
"Live?" Shen Gurong slowly rose, his legs weak, nearly stumbling after taking half a step. He forced himself to stand before the master, staring into his gentle eyes, and said hoarsely, "Does master want me to live, or does the Record of the Capital want me to live?"
The master was speechless.
Shen Gurong raised his hand and placed it on the master's chest, stammering, "If master wants me to live, then I will live; if you only treat me differently because of the Record of the Capital's words..."
Two clear tears slowly streamed down his beautiful eyes. He murmured, laughing and crying at the same time, "Then please don't worry about me anymore, okay?"
The master looked up at him, filled with sorrow.
“Don’t worry about me,” Shen Gurong choked out. “Don’t give me any more empty hope, sir. I can’t hold on anymore.”
The master remained silent, meeting his gaze for a long time, before gently raising his hand. His wide sleeve fluttered as he transformed the Record of the Capital into the shape of a bamboo flute and placed it in Shen Gurong’s palm.
Shen Gurong stared at him blankly.
“It’s not the Record of the Capital,” the master said softly, gently stroking his face. “I want you to live.”
Shen Gurong stared blankly at him, then suddenly burst into tears.
This was the first time he had cried out loud. Large tears rolled down his cheeks. He clutched the master’s sleeve tightly, sobbing, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I said something foolish just now, sir…”
The master patted his head and said, “You’re a good child.”
Shen Gurong cried until he couldn’t speak.
The master sighed silently, wiping away the tears on his face, and said softly, "I'm going to clear away the plague demons outside. You wait for me here, okay?"
Hearing this, Shen Gurong grabbed his sleeve in panic, his face filled with terror, "You...you'll come back? When? Right away? Can you not go?"
The master smiled gently and said, "I will come back."
He lied.
This was the first time Mu Feng Xue had lied.
The Records of the Capital stated that one person did indeed survive in Huitang City, but that person had slaughtered and devoured thirteen plague demons to kill Shen Gurong, who had ascended to immortality after entering the Dao.
And that sentence.
"I will come back." Shen Gurong watched the master leave, then squatted alone in Fanjiang Residence, waiting for a very long time, until it was already broad daylight outside, but the master still hadn't returned.
Shen Gurong grew increasingly panicked. He was no longer even afraid of the hideous plague demons, and struggled to run out of Fanjiang Residence.
The entire city of Huitang was engulfed in flames, burning fiercely. Shen Gurong, his body weak, walked along the fire-extinguishing riverbank, dazed and confused, searching for his teacher.
He walked along the river for an unknown amount of time, circling countless times, but still couldn't find the teacher in blue.
The thirteen rampaging plague demons had also vanished without a trace; perhaps the teacher had eliminated them.
Shen Gurong walked aimlessly, gripping his bamboo flute. Dark clouds filled the sky, and with a deafening roar, a bolt of lightning struck from mid-air, unexpectedly hitting the stone bridge not far away.
In the hazy air, there seemed to be the sound of shattering glass.
It was as if the will of heaven was urging him on.
Shen Gurong, as if possessed, ran towards the spot where the lightning had struck.
The stone bridge was shattered into piles of fragments scattered everywhere. In the shadows beneath the half-collapsed bridge, Shen Gurong finally saw his master, covered in blood.
Shen Gurong's eyes seemed to regain their light, and she ran over without a care in the world.
"Sir!" The man sat leaning against the stone wall beneath the bridge, covered in blood—whether his own or that of the plague demon, it was unclear. His blue robes were stained with blood, and his white hairband hung loosely down his back, water still dripping from the ends.
His eyes were slightly vacant as he stared at the rising sun in the distance, seemingly lost in thought.
Hearing Shen Gurong's voice, he paused, startled, and looked up in surprise.
Shen Gurong had already rushed over, stumbling and running. Seeing the man's condition, his legs went weak, and he knelt on the ground, his face ashen.
"Sir?"
The master said softly, "Why are you here? Didn't I tell you to wait for me at Fanjiang Residence?"
Shen Gurong held his hand, his face filled with terror: "Sir, sir, the blood..."
The master smiled: "It's not mine."
The thirteen plague demons ultimately fought and devoured each other, claiming thousands of lives. Just one more living person within the formation was needed to ascend to sainthood, but after searching for a long time, it couldn't find any trace of life, and in a frenzy, it devoured corpses in Huitang City.
The master finally ended it with a single sword strike. Before its last breath, the plague demon, as if remembering something, suddenly grinned. The ferocious creature that had devoured countless souls, in its final breath, used all its strength to self-destruct its spiritual body.
The master was caught off guard and injured his spiritual meridians; the blood on his body was from the plague demon.
But the injury wasn't fatal; it took him a while to recover, which delayed his return.
Shen Gurong knelt before the gentleman, tears streaming down his face, whether from lingering fear or joy, it was hard to tell.
Thunder roared, bolts of lightning striking down upon the spot where the master stood.
Shen Gurong choked back tears, "What is that thunder?"
The master smiled, "It's divine punishment."
Shen Gurong was stunned, recalling what the master had said before: that if he were involved in mortal karma, he would incur divine punishment.
Seeing Shen Gurong's face turn pale instantly, the master said softly, "Don't be afraid, the heavenly lightning can break the formation for us."
Once the "Raising Plague Ghosts" formation was complete, even a Great Ascension stage cultivator couldn't break it, but the Heavenly Dao descending from Heaven could cleave through everything in the Three Realms.
Shen Gurong didn't understand, but that didn't stop him from thinking how powerful the Master was. With a last glimmer of hope, he asked, "Will we... all survive?"
The Master didn't answer. He smiled gently, raising his hand to touch Shen Gurong's face, but in that instant, his gaze fell on the reddened back of his hand.
The master froze.
That was... plague.
The plague rarely spreads through blood, and the Master hadn't paid attention to the blood splattered on him from the plague demon's self-destruction. But now, seeing the plague gradually spreading across his body, he suddenly understood.
He had interfered in the life and death of the mortal world, and Heaven had punished him with divine lightning; he had forcibly altered the ending of the Record of the Capital, and Heaven would not let him off the hook.
Even if it meant killing the guardian of the Record of the Capital, Heaven would still steer the events recorded in the Record of the Capital back on track, using him to make Shen Gurong the only survivor who ascended to sainthood as a plague demon.
This was Heaven's will.
The Master felt no sorrow. He softly asked, "Did you take the Record of the Capital?"
Shen Gurong, unaware of what had happened, handed the Master the bamboo flute.
The Master gently stroked the bamboo flute and sighed, "Do you know why this divine artifact is called the Record of the Capital?"
Shen Gurong shook his head, not knowing.
"The Record of the Capital was originally a divine blessing, a warning of future natural and man-made disasters," the Master said. "But too many people in the world are greedy, and the warning has turned into a calamity. Heaven was angered and sealed the Record of the Capital, allowing only the chosen ones to glimpse it. Unless it's a cataclysmic disaster, I cannot recklessly reveal heavenly secrets."
Those chosen by Heaven are detached from the karma of the Three Realms from birth, completely otherworldly.
To prevent anyone from using the Record of the Capital to repeat past mistakes, those who guard it cannot arbitrarily reveal or alter its contents.
Mu Feng Xue violated two rules.
First, he saved Shen Gurong, who was destined to become a plague demon; second, he entrusted the Record of the Capital to someone not chosen by Heaven.
The Master smiled gently, raised his hand to touch Shen Gurong's face, and whispered, "Can you guard the Record of the Capital for me?"
Shen Gurong asked blankly, "What about Master?"
The master remained silent.
Shen Gurong suddenly panicked: "I...I'm not the chosen one, I can't...I can't protect this divine artifact for you...Sir, please do it yourself."
The thunder in the sky grew even stronger, sounding as if it would soon shatter the magic array's barrier.
The master gently raised his hand towards Shen Gurong, back of his hand facing down: "Come."
Shen Gurong was still terrified, but at this moment, he had no one else to rely on but the master, so he had no choice but to offer his hand.
The master took his hand and pulled him into his arms.
He placed a bamboo flute in Shen Gurong's hand, and Shen Gurong seemed to sense something, suddenly struggling violently.
"Master! Master, what's wrong?!" Shen Gurong tried to push the master away to see what was happening, but all his struggles were easily restrained, and he could only futilely try to back away, supporting himself against the master's chest.
The master said calmly: "I've been infected with the plague."
The plague...
The plague from the evening mist?
Shen Gurong trembled violently, shaking his head desperately. "No, no, you only had the blood of the plague demon on you. That...that's not the plague."
The master smiled. "I've lived too long. Life and death mean nothing to me."
Shen Gurong's lips trembled. His head was pressed against the master's shoulder, and tears streamed down his face again.
He wanted to say, life and death mean nothing to you, but what about me?
Overnight, the entire city was slaughtered, leaving only me.
And me?
What am I?
The master raised his hand, as if doing something to himself. Shen Gurong felt the master's body shudder violently, a suppressed gasp escaping his lips.
Shen Gurong struggled fiercely. "Master? Master!"
"Please, don't!"
A trickle of blood slowly flowed from the master's lips. He had to die here before becoming a plague demon. Otherwise, the plague would spread throughout his body, and with his cultivation level, he would surely devour Shen Gurong, skin and bones.
The master held Shen Gurong tightly in his arms with one hand, while his other hand trembled as he slowly raised it to cover Shen Gurong's eyes.
Shen Gurong was instantly plunged into a terrifying darkness. He couldn't see anything, had no idea what was happening to his master, only hearing the man's suppressed breathing.
One breath after another.
Each breath weaker than the last.
Tears slowly slid down Shen Gurong's face, as if he had foreseen something, the tears soaking the man's finger marks.
He whimpered, utterly despairing, unable to utter a single word.
The master murmured, "Gurong, your fate has come. There's no need to blame yourself."
The last shred of hope that Shen Gurong had managed to hold onto snapped instantly. His body went limp, and he felt so nauseous he almost vomited blood.
“Take me with you,” Shen Gurong stammered, his breath reeking of blood. “If you can’t give me hope, then take me with you.”
The master smiled faintly, saying, “All things are born with a spirit; the physical body is merely a vessel.”
Shen Gurong didn’t understand. He raised his hand to cover the master’s hand that was resting on his eyes, murmuring, “I don’t understand, Master, teach me.”
The master leaned close to his ear, his breath slightly ragged, and whispered, “Didn’t you just say that if you committed suicide here, the Records of the Capital would be wrong?”
Shen Gurong remained silent.
The Master said, “Today, Heaven decrees that I die here. You will ascend to sainthood as a ghost cultivator.”
Shen Gurong was stunned.
“I suddenly understand,” the master said. “Is what the Heavenly Dao says necessarily true?”
The master’s breathing was tinged with the stench of blood; his voice grew weaker and weaker: “Gurong, I have lived for hundreds, even thousands of years, obediently guarding the Record of the Capital for the Heavenly Dao. I have seen countless mortals and cultivators whose fates are controlled by the Record of the Capital. All things in this world are mere straw dogs, but without us straw dogs, how can the Heavenly Dao remain high above, looking down upon all living beings?”
Shen Gurong’s hand slowly slid down.
“It is not the Heavenly Dao that controls us, but we who make the Heavenly Dao what it is.”
Shen Gurong did not understand.
He was still too young. Yesterday, he was a child thinking about how to avoid being punished by his master to copy the 'Xue Ji' and 'Di Zi Gui' five times. But overnight, everything changed drastically. He didn’t understand what his master was saying, but he vaguely knew that his master was telling him so much to teach him how to survive.
Shen Gurong asked blankly, "But how am I supposed to live all alone?"
The master replied, "The world outside Huitang City is boundless, Gurong."
As he spoke, he lowered his head slightly, only his faint breaths echoing in Shen Gurong's ears.
Thunder continued to strike from the sky.
Shen Gurong was enveloped in darkness, his entire body trembling slightly.
He seemed to have figured something out, and stammered, "Sir, do people really reincarnate?"
The master replied, "As I just said, all things have spirits, even the Record of the Capital has a spirit."
Shen Gurong asked blankly, "Then will you be reincarnated?"
The master smiled gently again, "Yes."
"My name is Mu Feng Xue. I was born because of the Record of the Capital, and I should have died because of it."
"But I defied the Heavenly Way, yet the Record of the Capital still revealed its secrets to me. The Heavenly Way was enraged, and after my death, the 'Spirit of the Record of the Capital' will also fall into reincarnation with me."
"The bamboo flute is kept in your hands. Though it cannot be used, it can protect you for this lifetime."
The master said softly, "I have rebelled against the Heavenly Way and will be punished by not being allowed to reincarnate for a hundred years."
"A hundred years later, I and the 'Spirit of the Record of the Capital' will be reincarnated, and the bamboo flute will be unsealed. I will go with it to find the true form of the Record of the Capital."
To find you.
The reincarnated person is still the one chosen by the Heavenly Way.
It was me, yet I was no longer myself.
But this was the last glimmer of hope Mu Feng Xue had left for Shen Gurong.
Shen Gurong seemed to grasp at a lifeline once more, nodding choked with sobs, "Okay, I will come to find you."
The Master smiled, "Okay, I'll wait for you." The air was thick with the stench of blood. Silently, tears streamed down Shen Gurong's face, the warm, wet droplets soaking between the Master's fingers.
He was trapped in the Master's arms, feeling his increasingly weak breaths, his increasingly cold body, but because of his earlier promise, he dared not break down too much, only able to gasp softly.
After an unknown amount of time, he finally couldn't hold back his fear and murmured, "Master, are you still there?"
The master said gently, "I'm still here."
After a moment, Shen Gurong's voice trembled as he asked, "Master, are you still there?"
This time, the master's voice was noticeably softer, but the tone remained as gentle as ever.
"Still here."
Shen Gurong couldn't stop the tears from flowing, "Are you still there?"
"Yes."
Every so often, Shen Gurong would ask again. He had never felt such heartbreak waiting for an answer. Soon, the intervals between his master's responses grew longer, the voice weaker, until finally barely audible.
"Master, are you still there?"
"..." No one answered, no one responded; even the faint breathing beside him could no longer be heard.
At the same time, the last bolt of heavenly lightning struck down, shattering the entire "Plague-Raising Demon" formation of Huitang City to pieces.
Those who had been waiting outside rushed into Huitang City, only to find charred remains and corpses strewn throughout the city.
Li Nanyang closed his eyes in sorrow.
The young Xi Guxing, wielding his short sword, ran around Huitang City, finally finding the devastated Shen Gurong under a bridge.
Xi Guxing raised an eyebrow: "Master, there's a living person here!"
Li Nanyang knew that the "Plague-Raising Demon" formation always had one survivor, and that person must be a plague demon who had attained enlightenment. His face darkened, and he strode forward, pulling Xi Guxing behind him. He said coldly, "Don't come near, he's already a plague demon..." Before he could finish, he saw a boy huddled in the arms of a man in blood-stained clothes.
The boy was covered in blood, but there was no trace of the plague demon's aura on him.
He was a mortal.
Li Nanyang was stunned.
He tried to approach, but as soon as he got close, Shen Gurong grabbed his hand.
Li Nanyang had never been offended like this before. He almost slapped him away, but he restrained himself, remembering that the boy was a mortal.
Shen Gurong's eyes were vacant and unfocused. He gripped Li Nanyang's sleeve tightly, his lips trembling, as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't utter a single word.
Xi Guxing secretly walked over and waved his hand in front of Shen Gurong's eyes. Shen Gurong's eyes widened, but he didn't react.
Xi Guxing muttered under his breath, "How come he's blind? How did he survive?"
Li Nanyang frowned and said, "Shut up."
Xi Guxing had no choice but to remain silent.
Shen Gurong struggled for a long time before finally managing to utter a single, laborious sentence, like a child learning to speak.
"Save...save him."
"Master...just now he...answered me..."
"He's...alive."
T-T
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