NONE OF BITAN MANOR'S disciples imagined their leader would succumb before the battle even began. Li Wuxin was getting on in years; he had begun to show his age in his carriage. Yet he would never have met such a sudden end if not for the barrier's illusion spell throwing his spiritual energy flow into fatal disorder.
There was a long silence. Then the green robes of Bitan Manor rippled as its disciples fell to their knees. Their mournful cries rent the heavens as the rest of the crowd looked on. Even the disciple who'd attacked Nangong Si could no longer bring himself to fight. Weeping, he crawled over to his sect leader, swiping sleeves across his face as his tears flowed without cease.
The towering barrier before Mount Huang let out an ear-splitting shriek. Jiang Xi blanched. "Someone come take Li Wuxin's place!" he barked. "Or we'll all die here today!"
Xue Zhengyong turned. "Yuheng!" he shouted. "Come quick and lend a hand!"
Chu Wanning didn't need to be told twice. His expertise, after all, was in barriers. The screech they'd heard was from the curse left behind by the evil spirit of the phoenix. If this curse had reared its head, the sect leaders and elders weren't far from breaking through the barrier altogether. Should they succeed, all would be well. But should they fail, this curse would backfire with an earth-shattering strength, potentially more dire than the apocalyptic inferno that had laid waste to Rufeng Sect.
Chu Wanning leapt forward at once, his gaze sharp as the honed edge of a blade. He landed in the spot vacated by Li Wuxin and reached up with a sweep of his sleeves.
The moment his fingers touched the barrier, Chu Wanning flinched in surprise. His head whipped around to look at Huang Xiaoyue, standing silently beside him. Huang Xiaoyue was shaking from head to toe, dripping with sweat, his face flushed with exertion. He looked as though he was giving all he had to the effort, and the other sect leaders certainly seemed to think this was the case.
Perhaps he could fool the others, but how could he fool the barrier zongshi Chu Wanning? As soon as Chu Wanning stepped into Li Wuxin's place, he could feel that the barrier's retaliatory energy was overly concentrated there. Compared to the other sect leaders, Li Wuxin had likely been inundated with double the amount of demonic energy as he stood in this spot.
Seldom did such imbalances arise in cooperative arrays. When they did, there was only one possibility: the next cultivator over wasn't pulling their weight. Huang Xiaoyue was putting on an act!
Chu Wanning's fury was instantaneous. His dark brows drew together as he thundered, "You… The nerve of you to play games like this!"
"Wh-what…" Between gasps, Huang Xiaoyue's voice was faint as a mosquito's buzz; he looked as though he might perish in the next moment. All the nearby sect leaders with any energy to spare looked over at the commotion.
"Zongshi, what do you mean… What games…" Huang Xiaoyue mumbled.
"As if you don't know! Get the hell out of my sight!"
Xue Zhengyong couldn't stay silent. "Yuheng, why are you yelling at Huang-daozhang?" he called. "Look at him, he can hardly speak! If there's a problem, let's talk it out after we open the barrier!"
Huang Xiaoyue snuck a glance at Chu Wanning. The eyes that met his were like a frost-rimed dagger; a chill washed over his heart. He never had the ability to open the phoenix's barrier in the first place. He had only rushed to the front of the crowd and pretended to help with the aim of burnishing his own reputation. The upper cultivation realm needed to know that Jiangdong Hall was still formidable, and Huang Xiaoyue was a man to be reckoned with. He never expected that wimp Li Wuxin would buckle under the doubled demonic energy, ending up a target of the barrier's backlash and snuffing it right next to him. And his death would have been no big deal, if the person who took his place hadn't been Chu Wanning—this damned Chu-zongshi who deserved to be hacked into mincemeat!
Cold sweat ran down Huang Xiaoyue's greasy face. This wasn't part of his act anymore. What do I do? he wondered.
Faced with imminent danger, Huang Xiaoyue bit down fiercely on his own tongue. As warm blood filled his mouth, he let the bloody spittle drip from the corners of his lips. "Zongshi… I swear, there's been a misunderstanding… When Li-zhuangzhu collapsed I—I really…can't… I can't…" He coughed violently, flecks of blood flying. "I really can't take much more…"
As if Chu Wanning would fall for this. Between Li Wuxin and Huang Xiaoyue, it was patently clear who was more capable. If both truly gave their all, the first to founder would never have been Li Wuxin. With a furious snap of his sleeves, Chu Wanning summoned Tianwen. One lash sent Huang Xiaoyue flying through the air to crumple a dozen feet away. "Out!"
"Aiyo!" Jiangdong Hall's horrified disciples rushed forward and clustered around their fallen leader. More than a few others turned glares upon Chu Wanning.
"Chu-zongshi, why must you be so unreasonable?"
"Huang-daozhang was doing his best. Was there need to wave your whip around and throw a fit?"
"You think you should abuse people just because you can?"
Chu Wanning barely heard these indignant quips. Rage seethed in his chest, and his phoenix eyes glinted like ice. In the light from the barrier, his eyes seemed to flash scarlet.
"Get the hell out." His voice wasn't loud, but it was threatening in the extreme. Those who knew Chu Wanning understood that they might succeed in reasoning with him were he merely berating or reprimanding someone. But once he got this look in his eye, resolute and unbending, none could stand in his way. If anyone was foolish enough to try, one furious strike from Tianwen might mark their end.
"Yuheng… What's going on…" Xue Zhengyong asked weakly. "Huang Xiaoyue, did you expend even a scrap of energy to open the
phoenix's barrier?" Chu Wanning was so incensed veins protruded from the hand he braced against the barrier. "When Li Wuxin reached his limit next to you, did you shoulder even an ounce of his burden?"
"What are you talking about?!" cried a female disciple from Jiangdong Hall. "Our Huang-daozhang is spitting blood, yet you're accusing him of not giving enough? Will you only be satisfied if he keels over and dies like Li-zhuangzhu?"
Chu Wanning's dark brows drew together in a scowl. But as he made to reply, the colossal barrier before him shuddered. A bloodred glow enveloped the sect leaders' palms pressed to its surface.
"Focus!" Jiang Xi called. "This is the last layer—we're about to break through!"
Chu Wanning had no wish to argue with these lunatics. Turning back to the work at hand, he threaded his fingers together and placed both hands on the barrier. As spiritual energy laced with fury poured through his palms, a rift appeared in the red wall.
There was a resounding crash as a tremor rumbled through the earth. A huge rip had split Mount Huang's great barrier, more than eight feet tall and wide enough for five people to walk through abreast.
"It's open! It's open!" Xue Zhengyong whooped. "The barrier's open!" He stepped forward, craning his neck for a better look, and was hit in the face by a plume of deep red miasma. "Aiyo!" he cried. "What's that awful smell?"
The rest of the cultivators rushed up to take a look, immediately forgetting Bitan Manor and Jiangdong Hall.
Abbot Xuanjing of Wubei Temple was well-versed in such matters. Twirling his prayer beads in his hands, he said solemnly, "This mountain is a burial ground. The number of bodies on Mount Huang, and the resentful energy they have accumulated, likely far exceeds our expectations."
"Looks like that rat-bastard Xu Shuanglin made this mountain his hideout after all," said Jiang Xi, his expression gloomy. He glanced over his shoulder. "Listen up. Anyone who's injured, scared, useless, or pretending…" At this point, his chilly eyes swept over Huang Xiaoyue, still lying on the ground. He let out a soft snort. "All of you remain at the bottom of the mountain. The rest will come up with me."
Xue Meng watched Chu Wanning step through the rift in the barrier and rushed to catch up, only to realize Mo Ran wasn't beside him. He surveyed his surroundings and saw a commotion around Nangong Si.
Bitan Manor's grieving disciples still hoped to avenge themselves; despite the protective barrier Chu Wanning had put down, a crowd of hateful faces still surrounded Nangong Si, hurling curses and insults.
"Mo Ran, what are you doing?" Xue Meng called out, urgent. "Everyone's going up the mountain! Let's go!"
"You go on ahead—keep an eye on Shizun and Shi Mei," Mo Ran replied. "If you run into trouble, send a messenger flower right away."
Xue Meng had no choice but to leave them.
By now, only those from Bitan Manor and Jiangdong Hall remained at the bottom of the mountain. Mo Ran tore his gaze away from Xue Meng's departing figure. "I understand how you all must feel, but Nangong-gongzi has nothing to do with the sword manual," he said. "If you must settle your debts, at least wait till we've captured Xu Shuanglin."
"These are two different matters entirely! Xu Shuanglin and Nangong Si both have to pay!"
"That's right! Neither of them can escape!"
Zhen Congming was one of the more reasonable in the group. He stared at Mo Ran through red-rimmed eyes. "Mo-zongshi, both you and your shifu have the title of zongshi. Yet you choose to protect criminals and put your own interests first?"
"I'm just trying to remind you that there's a right way to do this," Mo Ran said. "If you really want to redress your grievances with Rufeng Sect, wait for things to calm down. Then you can send Xu Shuanglin and his associates to Tianyin Pavilion for questioning according to the rules. The ten great sects will discuss his case and determine fair punishment.
Right now, you're ambushing someone who doesn't intend to fight back. You want to tear him to pieces—but what good will that do?"
Zhen Congming had no ready answer.
"Ten great sects?" someone cried. "There are only nine! How can you still count Rufeng Sect?"
"No, there are eight," Zhen Congming said. His cheeks were streaked with blood from where he'd wiped his tears after cleaning his shizun's face. Under those bloodstains, he looked miserably forlorn. "There are only eight sects… Bitan Manor no longer has a leader."
"Shixiong…"
Zhen Congming ignored his weeping shidi, slowly turning to pin Mo Ran with his gaze. "After the Heavenly Rift, my shizun said Sisheng Peak was an honorable sect. But I see now that he misjudged you."
Mo Ran stared at him.
"Mo-zongshi, do you insist on protecting these two Rufeng vermin?" asked Zhen Congming.
Before Mo Ran could reply, Nangong Si rasped, "Mo Ran, go."
Ye Wangxi had knelt beside Nangong Si; now she helped him to his feet with difficulty. She didn't cry or wring her hands. She merely said, voice hoarse, "Mo-gongzi, you should go up the mountain. This doesn't involve you."
Mo Ran cast a sidelong glance at Nangong Si. "You think your allegiance to my shizun counts for nothing? We're two disciples under the same master; how could it not involve me?"
"You—" Nangong Si started.
But Mo Ran turned to look back at Zhen Congming. By now, Jiangdong Hall's disciples had joined forces with Bitan Manor to glare at them from all sides. Huang Xiaoyue had made his way over with the support of two female disciples, careful to be seen lurching this way and that. Chest heaving, he widened his eyes to lour at Mo Ran, then waved off the two disciples and jabbed a gnarled finger in Mo Ran's face. "I've lived by the righteous teachings of the upper cultivation realm all my life. I won't stand by and condone such behavior!"
"Huang-daozhang is indeed a great exemplar of the upper cultivation realm's principles," Mo Ran replied coolly. "A moment ago you were at death's door, yet less than fifteen minutes later you're prancing around demanding justice. Your integrity is to be admired."
"You—!" Huang Xiaoyue burst into a violent coughing fit, clutching his chest as if overwhelmed by his anger. Mo Ran spared him hardly a glance.
The green of Bitan Manor and the purple of Jiangdong Hall swirled around the trio. The mob pressed closer, step by step, yet no one dared make the first move—any strike now would be impossible to take back.
"Mo-zongshi," Zhen Congming said in a low voice. "I'll ask you one more time. Do you refuse to step aside?"
Mo Ran had no chance to reply. A female cultivator's sharp cry rang out from up ahead as a pile of misshapen gray rocks tumbled out of the rift.
"What's going on?" Huang Xiaoyue exclaimed. "A landslide?"
Mo Ran narrowed his eyes. This was no landslide. Soon enough, the crowd realized it as well and gasps rose up from the assembly.
What had come careening out of the rift were charred human bodies.
Their limbs and flesh were fused together and oozing, their faces barely recognizable as human.
Some of the watching cultivators immediately doubled over and vomited.
"That's so fucking gross…"
"These things are on the mountain?"
"How many bodies do you think there are…" Mo Ran, too, was stricken by this sight.
A low rumble came from the slope above. The rift the elders had just torn into the barrier rippled; slowly, its borders began to shrink. This barrier could repair itself. Before long, it would close up and trap them on the outside.
"Let's go!" Mo Ran said anxiously. "Grudges can wait. Xu Shuanglin is at the top of the mountain—are you really not interested in hunting down the ringleader behind this whole mess?"
The group from Bitan Manor hesitated, but Huang Xiaoyue snorted and tugged at his mustache. "The best cultivators in the world are all at the top of the mountain. They can take care of Xu Shuanglin. But these two youngsters from Rufeng Sect have been as slippery as eels. If we let them go now, I'm afraid we won't get another chance."
"Huang Xiaoyue." Mo Ran's eyes blazed; there was a flash of scarlet as Jiangui materialized in his grip. "Are you about done?"
At the appearance of the holy weapon, all the hundred-odd cultivators drew their blades. They eyed him warily.
In his heart, Mo Ran knew this wouldn't end without a fight. He was happy to trade blows with any of them, but these people would undoubtedly view Sisheng Peak as the aggressor…
A low voice from behind disrupted Mo Ran's thoughts. "Everyone, please head up the mountain. I, Nangong Si, will wait for you here. I'm not going anywhere."
"Easy for you to say, kid, but who's going to buy it?" asked Huang Xiaoyue. "You don't expect me to believe you'll stay here just because you said so, do you?"
Nangong Si shot him a cold glance and rose to his feet. Without warning, he shoved Ye Wangxi out of the barrier Chu Wanning had cast. "A-Si!"
Those within the barrier could leave, but those without couldn't go back in. Nangong Si stood alone inside the barrier and slowly drew his sword. Inch by inch, its snow-bright glare lit his face—his chin, his lips, his nose, his eyes.
Ye Wangxi guessed at once what he was about to do. Pounding her fist against the barrier, she yelled, "Stop messing around!"
"When my ancestor founded the sect, he left behind a teaching: As a gentleman of Rufeng Sect, I mustn't indulge in greed, resentment, deception, slaughter, obscenity, plunder, or conquest," said Nangong Si. "My father failed to live up to this teaching. But in my twenty-six years, though I may have been headstrong, I have never forsaken this maxim nor transgressed its commandments. Regarding these seven taboos, my conscience is clear."
The blade whizzed through the air like flowing water. "No!" cried Ye Wangxi.
Mo Ran also saw what Nangong Si intended. He tried to break down Chu Wanning's barrier, but it could not be so easily undone. "Nangong…" he muttered.
Nangong Si paid heed to neither Ye Wangxi nor Mo Ran. "None of you trust me, so I have no other choice," he said. "Fortunately, I know some confinement techniques. I will secure myself here; please don't implicate anyone else. I, Nangong Si, will not move an inch from this spot. I will wait for your return."
"Nangong—!" Blood flew before Mo Ran had finished shouting his name. Nangong Si's sword plunged into the ground, half its length disappearing beneath the dirt. Between the blade and the earth was Nangong Si's left hand.
Using his own sword, Nangong Si had nailed his hand to the ground.
Sparks flew from the blade as the confinement curse took hold.
Ye Wangxi crashed to her knees in front of the barrier. Nangong Si's blood flowed along the blade's surface, dyeing the ground red. Her face was lowered, her expression hidden from view. The watchers could only see her clenched hands on the flashing barrier, knuckles white and trembling.
This curse was used to confine evil creatures, vengeful ghosts, and beasts of burden. Any accomplished cultivator of the upper cultivation realm would recognize it, could use it. Nangong Si had used it to pin himself in place. His lips were bloodless with pain. Shudders wracked him, yet he didn't cry. At last, he raised bloodshot eyes. "Go," he said, voice firm.
Mo Ran rarely found himself shocked speechless. In the past life, only Ye Wangxi had ever managed this feat. In this life, it was accomplished by the man Ye Wangxi loved.
Truth be told, Mo Ran had never understood what Ye Wangxi saw in Nangong Si. He was a superficial, empty-headed rich brat who chased pretty girls. Why was Ye Wangxi so set on him? But at that moment, Mo Ran saw someone who resembled Ye Wangxi. He was doubled over, writhing in pain, losing blood—yet his resolve was absolute.
He saw Nangong Si.
"Go!" Nangong Si howled. "What are you still standing here for?
Do I need to nail my legs to the ground too? Go already!"
Zhen Congming was first to turn away. He strode over to Li Wuxin's body. Leaning down, he smoothed his sect leader's robes, then picked him up and turned his back to the barrier.
"Shixiong!"
"Shixiong, you aren't staying?"
"Shixiong? Are we going to just leave like this? We're just going to let them go—"
"What's the point of staying?" said Zhen Congming. "Who knows how long they'll be fighting on the mountaintop? Should we wait around with the sect leader lying here on the dirt, without even a makeshift coffin?!"
Bitan Manor's disciples looked at one another. One by one, they bowed their heads in silence.
Zhen Congming walked away from the mountain, past Mo Ran. In the moment their shoulders drew level, he spoke: "Mo-zongshi, remember what you said. When this battle's over, I'll see you at Tianyin Pavilion."
"At least we have Tianyin Pavilion to uphold justice in this world," another interjected. It was the disciple who spat at Chu Wanning. He fell into step behind his shixiong, red-eyed with anger and bitterness. "The pavilion master is an impartial judge; they'll see our shizun passes on with no regrets. Mo Ran, Nangong Si… Karma's a bitch, you lowlifes. Just you wait—your days are numbered!"