Chapter 404 - 217: The Death of Jiu

Chapter 404: Chapter 217: The Death of Jiu

Zheng Xiu’s words were stunning.

Zheng Xiu, Feng Bei, and the Monk had experienced that buried piece of history firsthand, living through it within Gongsun Mo’s Cannibal Painting.

The tragedy of Richan Valley.

The disappearance of the Martial World.

Zheng Xiu had even, in the guise of Gongsun Mo, spent a century painting ghosts and dotting their eyes. He had harvested the Human Souls of tens of millions to create a Cannibal Painting rivaling the Ghostly Realm, personally opened the Passage to the Darkness, and become a Human Pillar.

The memories of it all were still vivid in their minds.

They now knew the secrets of history.

Now that Zheng Xiu had laid it all bare, the Monk came to a sudden realization. "So the one most afraid of being taken by the Darkness... is him!"

"I met him face-to-face in Jingtang Town. A Mystic he may be, but in the end, he’s still Human!"

Feng Bei lightly bit her lower lip, silent.

Zheng Xiu suddenly grabbed Feng Bei’s hand. It was ice-cold, her palm slick with sweat.

Feng Bei tugged, but couldn’t free her hand from Zheng Xiu’s firm grip.

Feeling the warmth from his palm, Feng Bei sighed softly, but still said nothing.

"Don’t even think about leaving."

Zheng Xiu looked at Feng Bei calmly. "Whether those ten years we shared a bed were real or not, did you really think you could hide your thoughts from me?"

"What’s little sis thinking about?" the Monk asked, his expression suddenly shifting to resemble Xie Yunliu’s.

"Call her Miss Feng," Zheng Xiu said sternly, shooting the Monk a look. ’Why the hell are you switching personalities now?’ he cursed inwardly.

The Monk blinked, seeming to understand. He scratched his head, annoyed at himself for his gaffe, and nodded. "So, what is Miss Feng thinking about?"

Zheng Xiu laid her thoughts bare. "She doesn’t want to get us involved. She wants to find Zhu alone."

Feng Bei froze.

It seemed Zheng Xiu had guessed her thoughts exactly.

Just what you’d expect after ten years of marriage.

The Monk gasped. "Hiss... How could Miss Feng be so reckless!"

Feng Bei finally wrenched her hand free. Taking a shallow breath, her clear eyes filled with anger as she glared at Zheng Xiu. "What other choice do I have? Am I supposed to just stand by and watch you die?"

Zheng Xiu retorted confidently, "I already told you, I’m hard to kill. I have a plan. When have you ever seen me do something I wasn’t sure of?"

Feng Bei scoffed. "What about on the fifteenth of the eighth month, for our third anniversary? You insisted on learning how to make that fennel and sheep’s head hot pot. I told you you had no talent for cooking, but you wouldn’t listen. You just had to make a fuss, and didn’t you almost burn down the kitchen?"

Zheng Xiu retorted, "But I got it right for our fifth anniversary, didn’t I?"

Feng Bei sneered. "And on the fourth? Didn’t you accidentally dump the entire bag of salt in it? Would you have been so happy if I hadn’t forced myself to say it was delicious?"

"Everyone has their strengths!"

"So, this is your so-called ’certainty’?"

"Let me guess, your next line is ’Ignoring the facts, am I really to blame?’"

"Hmph. Am I some unreasonable shrew in your eyes who can’t tell right from wrong?"

As they argued, they got closer and closer, faces flushed with anger, until they were almost pressed together.

The Monk suspected they might start kissing on the spot, so he preemptively covered his eyes.

Feng Bei and Zheng Xiu stared daggers at each other. They stared and stared, until the corner of Feng Bei’s mouth twitched, and she couldn’t suppress a smile. Zheng Xiu’s face filled with triumph as he held up two fingers in a ’V’. Feng Bei feigned anger, but found it impossible to regain her stern expression. The corner of Zheng Xiu’s mouth hooked into a smug ’come at me’ grin. At that, Feng Bei finally looked away. Feng Bei was defeated.

Zheng Xiu’s interruption had dispelled much of the gloom in Feng Bei’s heart. With a resigned sigh, she tucked the long hair on her right side behind her ear, revealing the "Mystic Mark" she so disliked. She shot Zheng Xiu a look. "Fine. What’s your plan?"

"My plan is simple."

"We go straight north,"

"gouge out the Crow Fosterer’s eyes,"

"utterly destroy Zhu’s eyes,"

"and then,"

Zheng Xiu pointed north. He paused for a moment before calmly speaking three words: "We go home."

「Ten days later.」

On an official road heading northeast from the west, two fine horses galloped at full speed.

A powerfully built man carried a long, oilskin-wrapped bundle on his back.

A bald man sat on the other horse.

They were, of course, Zheng Xiu and the Monk.

They had descended Celestial Yin Mountain and were heading straight for the Imperial City, first traveling northeast before turning north and crossing several states.

Traveling in fits and starts, the pair had covered two thousand li in ten days.

Every time they stopped, the Monk couldn’t help but glance back the way they came, his expression full of worry.

"Don’t worry," Zheng Xiu reassured him. "She’s Feng Bei."

They were about to pass through the territory of Yizhou State.

A hint of hesitation appeared on the Monk’s face.

Zheng Xiu guessed his thoughts. "If you want to go back and see Master Dengdeng, you should go."

The Monk seemed conflicted for a moment before shaking his head firmly. "I can’t. This Little Monk is no coward who clings to life. I will face whatever comes with both of you!"

"It’s not that I don’t want to see him myself and demand some answers."

Zheng Xiu now understood that Master Dengdeng was the Xie Yunliu of two hundred years ago. He had lived for two centuries.

He had known all along that Gongsun Mo created the Cannibal Painting.

’Is it possible Master Dengdeng knew what would happen to those who took the Cannibal Painting? Was he hoping the painting would successfully create a second Gongsun Mo, someone who could bring the real Xie Luohe back from the Darkness?’

That was what Zheng Xiu wanted to ask Master Dengdeng in person.

But now was not the time for digging up the past.

「On the fifteenth day.」

The night air was cool as water.

In the mountains, on a winding road, the two men were still pressing onward without a break.

They seemed to travel quickly when mounted, but it had still taken them fifteen days to get this far. It was clear they had spent a great deal of time stopped along the way, as if waiting for something.

A fine drizzle began to fall. Illuminated by the moonlight, the rain looked like countless silver needles, pricking at the two riders.

"CAW—"

In the distance, a mournful caw shattered the silence. A "dark cloud" blotted out the sky as it swept past the moon, and as it moved, it seemed to tear the bright orb into countless fragments.