CH 42

“AHHHH…..”

The innkeeper’s spirit issued out a weak shout, half lament and half agony, repeating over and over: “It hurts so much, hurts so much, hurts so much…”  

The first was a cathartic yelp, but it then got slowly weaker until it at last became but a murmur. 

Much like someone plagued by severe narcolepsy, he struggled only briefly awake, but then involuntarily sank back into a stupor. No longer able to shout, he began to whimper and cry. 

The others hanging upside-down turned toward him one by one.   

At first, they’d still been whispering, just a bit of sound and they’d echo one another in endless succession. But now, they descended into a strange silence.

They looked silently upon the innkeeper. Clearly, the flesh at the corners of their mouths had been pulled to their cheekbones, but because they were hanging upside-down, they appeared extremely sorrowful. 

“Why is he crying…” someone softly asked. 

This statement went down like water into hot oil; those suspended spirits suddenly shook, and then exploded.

Countless sobs thrummed out, all pouring into Wu Xingxue’s ears. He suddenly felt that the smoke here was truly suffocating, so much so that his inner organs went cold. A completely inexplicable sense of abhorrence arose in his heart.  

Within that abhorrence, Wu Xingxue thought: If my heart is this cold without memory, then what about with memory? I don’t know what I’d really thought about it back then when I knew…  

Clang—-

The sound of a sword suddenly rang out, cuffing straight through the smoke!  

Wu Xingxue abruptly recovered. He raised his head to look over.  

And saw Xiao Fuxuan’s golden-light-bearing “Mian” sword sweeping madly across the temple’s ceiling. Even though he couldn’t see the expression of the swordsman, he could sense the glacial chill within the sword intent.

Everyone said the Tianxiu Immortal dealt punishment with one hand and forgiveness with the other. Since all the Falling Flower Mountain Market people were innocent upon being tied up here, such an action from Xiao Fuxuan ought to have freed these people.

Wu Xingxue thought as much; evidently, so did Xiao Fuxuan.  

That pure ray of golden light made the entire forbidden ground shake on end, smoke and dust rising up to the blue sky and turning it into a hazy smog. The light hacked through with an unstoppable force, enclosing all the spirits in its gold. Superimposed golden seals flowed across from within the light, like the ousting of karmic sins from the mortal realm. 

The scene alarmed those spirits so much that they gaped out blankly, no longer concerned with crying. For a moment, their transfixed eyes seemed to glimmer with hope.  

But the next instant, the light in their eyes dimmed back down— 

The “Mian” sword’s chill blades swept across, yet the ropes binding those densely-packed spirits kept on creaking in midair, without the least bit of change.

Astonished, Wu Xingxue turned his head to see that Xiao Fuxuan was also knitting his brows. 

He lifted a hand to catch the sword, lowering his gaze toward the continually flowing golden rivulets on his sword. The next moment, he again flipped his hand to sweep the sword out. 

This time yielded the same result—the sword’s edge went straight through those hanging ropes as though they were just empty projections. Even the Tianxiu Immortal’s pardon couldn’t take the least effect on them.  

Those spirits hanging upside-down didn’t utter a word, staring dazedly at the ropes on their bodies. They’d just been crying for a long time, but their eyes weren’t at all red. They still wore those muddled expressions, just cast in another layer of fog. After a long while, a murmured discussion again reverberated out— 

“Look, we just said, you can’t untie it.” 

“Sure enough.”

“Let it be, don’t get your hopes up.”

“But it hurts so much…”

……

Xiao Fuxuan caught his sword again, clenching his fingers. A trace of frustration emerged between his brows. He muttered inaudibly to himself, as though working out why he couldn’t pardon these people.  

“Xiao Fuxuan,” Wu Xingxue called to him.

Strangely enough, the chill he’d felt in his guts before actually got a little better for a moment. Thinking it over, perhaps it was because of this person’s presence beside him. Because when Xiao Fuxuan first unleashed his sword, before he’d come to the sudden realization that he couldn’t do anything except killing moves, he’d also wanted to free these spirits. 

But what a pity, he couldn’t succeed.

“Is it because it’s an illusion realm?” Wu Xingxue thought aloud, “Is it because we entered this forbidden ground from an illusion realm, so we can only look on but not do anything else?” 

Xiao Fuxuan raised his eyes: “Are you trying to console me?” 

Wu Xingxue was indeed thinking along these lines, but he hadn’t just forced the words out as consolation; in fact, he never had wrapped his head around what that so-called “what’s seen’s illusion, yet the scene is true” really meant. If they were seeing the past Falling Flower Mountain Market, then what? What could they change?  

If they couldn’t change, couldn’t even influence anything, then how could he have spoken with the innkeeper and bellboy, or even threatened the Feng Sect people? It seemed that he’d really returned to the Falling Flower Mountain Market of several centuries ago. 

But if they could change things… 

Then was this illusion realm really an illusion realm? 

“When we’d just entered the mountain market, I’d taken it as a mere illusion realm, but now I harbor some doubts.” Frowning, Xiao Fuxuan hesitated, still disinclined to speak of doubts or conjectures. He continued: “Even if it is an illusion realm, unleashing my sword shouldn’t have had this result.”  

“What should it have been like?” Wu Xingque asked.” 

“Were it unable to bear it, the illusion realm would have broken. Were it able to bear it, the illusion realm would have manifested a change. In short, it shouldn’t have been like this.” Xiao Fuxuan stopped talking, but his heavy expression remained pensive.  

Looking at that poor expression on his handsome face, Wu Xingxue could make out the words “unless…” written all over it.

He opened his mouth to ask: “Unless what?” 

“Unless—” Xiao Fuxuan blurted this out before realizing that he was being led along: “…” 

He pursed his lips, the deep black of his eyes peering at Wu Xingxue.  

For some reason, Wu Xingxue caught a trace of another emotion from that gaze, as though he were trying to recall the reason, but didn’t really want to spit it out. 

After another beat, Xiao Fuxuan retracted his gaze, no longer meeting Wu Xingxue’s eyes: “For my pardon to take no effect, there can only be one reason.” 

Wu Xingxue: “What?”  

Xiao Fuxuan frowned slightly, saying: “I myself am karmically implicated here.”

The temple again went silent.  

“I don’t understand.” After a while, Wu Xingxue asked, “What do you mean you’re being karmically implicated here?” 

Xiao Fuxuan slowly opened his mouth: “There was a divine arbor born in Falling Flower Terrace which was for some reason sealed. This became forbidden ground, possibly causing these spirits to be tied down as such and become bound. Their karma is all intertwined, and I…”  

His voice slowed a moment. Still deeply furrowing his brows, he spoke deeply: “I am linked among them, so I cannot pardon them.”

A long while after he finished talking, he raised his eyes again.

Wu Xingxue looked into his eyes unfalteringly. In the depths of his pupils, he made out a trace of hesitation, of confusion, but his mind swiftly calmed.  

It wasn’t until this moment that he realized he’d been visibly on edge because he knew, being karmically implicated here was not anything good. 

Who would have been involved?  

Apart from people closely intertwined with the divine arbor itself, there was probably only whoever had sealed this place, or perhaps whoever had locked these spirits up… 

Wu Xingxue suddenly somewhat understood why the himself back then would have tried to alter Xiao Fuxuan’s memories. It must have had something to do with this so-called karma.  

Xiao Fuxuan also evidently thought as much. He stared at Wu Xingxue, but only let out an “I…” before going quiet. 

“It wouldn’t be that karma,” Wu Xingxue blurted out.  

Xiao Fuxuan raised his eyelids. Because he had his back to the temple’s candlelight, his eyes appeared even deeper black. He’d always been cold, and would occasionally give off an air of haughtiness. Those edges about him seemed innate; no matter how he restrained them, kept them sheathed, those rather sharp points would always make themselves known about the corners of his eyes and brows.

Yet right now, within the gaze he directed at Wu Xingxue, there were too many hidden meanings—everything except the slightest hint of prickliness.  

Wu Xingxue spoke softly: “It wouldn’t be the karma of the lord of their grievance.” 

“Why?” Xiao Fuxuan focused in on him. 

Wu Xingxue moved his lips. 

“…Why so certain,” Xiao Fuxuan again asked.  

The Tianxiu Immortal was never one to speak empty phrases, nor to blindly believe guesses. Even if the interrogation fell on his own head, even if he didn’t want to be at all connected to certain conclusions, he still wouldn’t say anything to irrefutably absolve himself.  

People of the Immortal Capital all knew that the Tianxiu Immortal was never partial, even when it came to himself. He could tolerate any suspicion, so calm it seemed like the one being speculated about was not him.

This impartiality seemed innate, as though he must have been born like this, or else how could he have been inducted as the one in charge of punishment and forgiveness? 

But at a time like this, he still found that he cared deeply about a certain person’s groundless conviction. It wasn’t like with others—not a point-by-point result, nor a carefully surmised conclusion. Just, that one person’s unexplained and unexamined conviction. 

He asked twice, only to hear Wu Xingxue open his mouth to say: “I don’t know, it’s just a feeling. I’m a devil, devils never listen to reason.” 

That moment, those years that had once separated them seemed like the smoky fog in this forbidden ground, rising and falling, a bit suffocating—yet also seemed to lightly disperse with the breeze, no longer so insurmountable.  

***

“Ah!” someone suddenly screeched, followed by an alarmed gasp.  

Immediately hence, the air buzzed with conversation.

“How can this be?”

“The divine statue’s never moved before.”  

“This…”

Divine statue?

Curious, Wu Xingxue turned his head to look.  

That “General Bai” inscribed divine statue on the temple’s niche really had begun to change. The youth was still leaning on the tree, and the sword in his hand hadn’t moved a hair. What did move was the jade-careen divine arbor behind him. Somehow, the divine arbor which had previously only had branches, now sprouted buds.  

Wu Xingxue leaned forward to look closer, discovering that within the new growth was wrapped bud after bud of blossoms, too many to count. In just a moment, they have filled the naked branches.” 

“Who was this statue carved by, that it can actually grow?” Wu Xingxue murmured. 

He wasn’t initially expecting to hear an answer, but in response, those spirits who’d been confined in this place opened their mouths to say: “The divine arbor itself…” 

Wu Xingxue was stunned, and turned to look at Xiao Fuxuan. 

“The divine arbor itself?” Wu Xingxue asked in astonishment, “The divine arbor could turn into a human?”

The spirits then shook their heads, all clamoring: “Don’t know.” 

“It also seems like it hadn’t turned into a human.”  

“It’s just hearsay.” 

“From the folktales.”

Wu Xingxue then pointed to the jade-carven youth to ask: “Is this the person the divine arbor became?”

Those spirits shook their heads: “No.”

“Then who is it?” Wu Xingxue asked.