A-Zhi, A-Zhi... when she pushed me away, I felt a twinge of resentment that she had ever come near me.
Her left hand held mine as she carefully shifted her body back a few inches, giving me something to lean against so I wouldn't fall from the back of the high-speed Pegasus. Her shoulders were slender and soft, covered by a thin layer of muscle and skin; they had never borne a heavy burden, never weathered a storm. I was afraid that even resting my head on them would cause her pain. I only dared to let the swaying and jolting of the flight bring us together, occasionally touching her as if by chance, breathing in her scent. I wanted to feel this tenderness for just a while longer, but unexpectedly, I drifted into a deep sleep again.
In the teleportation array, she leaned into my arms as if she were too frail to stand, or perhaps she was deliberately acting spoiled. She stood on her tiptoes, tilting her head with a giggle, her eyes curving as she praised me for being considerate and a loyal servant to my master. In truth, I am naturally cold and selfish, devoid of sentiment or righteousness. I have never possessed a moral compass, so how could I possibly know loyalty?
I initially joined Yingzhao Temple to investigate the case of my parents' death. Later, I learned that Master Feng had personally overseen a nationwide search for years, yet found nothing. The only evidence left was the remnants of the scene from that day. I scoured the records in the Lingxian Pavilion but found no mention of that evil formation. Now that more than ten years have passed, even I barely remember it. Even if I did find the truth, I think that having become what I am now, I would have no face to meet my mother and brother.
The reason I am still willing to do these filthy deeds is merely to repay Master Feng for his appreciation of me. Moreover, within the system of Yingzhao Temple, I can act as I please without following secular rules; it could even be called a life of free-spirited pleasure.
Hearing her speak of loyalty to one's lord and master, I casually replied that I might one day become an outlaw. I wasn't lying to her. I have never thought about my future—that is too much of a luxury. It is more likely that someone will take my life at an unknown hour. If I must think of it, then my only wish is to be near her, to be able to see her often.
On this early summer night, the mountain breeze was still a bit chilly for her. She huddled delicately within the thin fleece cloak I had draped over her, her eyes wide with astonishment. It was then that I saw those deep brown pupils gradually shimmer with a bright golden light, like two brilliantly burning meteors, or the most radiant lanterns on the Night of the First Full Moon. She was so shaken by my teasing question that she didn't even realize she had revealed her beast-kin eye color.
Her gaze met mine with a forced composure, a mere pretense; she wasn't truly looking at me. If she had, she would have seen her own reflection in my eyes, seen those two clusters of magnificent light.
A rare melancholy rose in my heart for many, many reasons. Her thoughts seemed transparent, yet they were hard to guess, all because I harbored sinister intentions—because what I sought was not something an ordinary person could obtain. She would be leaving soon. Her departure, like her appearance, was a sudden decree from the heavens, like my abrupt slumber today, like an unprovoked awakening from a dream, like a silent, bewildered loss, like the many betrayals and deaths I have already endured.
Humans are creatures of skin and flesh wrapped around bone. I have used a blade to peel and slash them open countless times, so skillfully that I have grown weary of it. A human heart is nothing more than a fist-sized lump of flesh, yet it contains so-called principles of benevolence and wisdom, the bonds of parents and clan, so-called love and kindness. It also holds intense hatred and jealousy, infinite desire, and instinctive evil. It is the thing least worthy of trust. I am more tender and gentle toward creatures without sapience, simply because they have not yet learned how to betray me.
On the return journey from Hanzhou, Captain Zheng and several older brothers taught me through word and deed many of the Temple's rules, social graces, and tricks of the trade. Much of the standard operating procedure I have relied on to survive until now was first demonstrated to me by them. "In our line of work, being soft-hearted isn't even the worst thing," they would say repeatedly as they huddled around the station's hearth on a chilly autumn night. "Believing that loyalty actually exists in this world—now that's being a real fool!"
I listened half-heartedly, silently reviewing formations and numerology in my mind, offering a casual word of agreement. They would then burst into laughter, joking that the brotherhood between comrades was a different matter entirely. Yet it was this very group of men, whom I barely considered acquaintances and friends, who plotted to take my life after I ascended to the rank of Emissary.
I don't actually blame them. No faction can ever be a monolithic block. Although Eunuch Feng rules his subordinates strictly, there are still several cliques within the Temple. There are ten Emissaries; as one leaves, another enters. Although I have handled major cases since my second mission, I have only been in service for two years. It is only natural that they like to call me the foster son of a notorious eunuch—the most despised kind, who serves others with his looks. Such an extraordinary promotion was bound to stand in someone's way. Captain Zheng was merely the bait used to lower my guard.
The knife he thrust into my body was meant to hit the subtle gap between the upper and lower pieces of my armor, but he didn't expect me to be wearing a third layer. Even so, because he used a weapon of the Canxia Realm, it at least caused me internal injuries. The rest of the men had already been seized by the troops I had placed in ambush; their heads fell one by one like wheat before a scythe. He laughed. "You didn't follow what old Zheng taught you, kid. Binding armor in that spot affects your movement and power. It might even make you die faster."
"Today is an exception," I replied. "I didn't need movement."
He cast aside his knife. "You won't let my wife and children go?"
"I won't."
"Hahaha..." He clutched the blood at his abdomen. "One shouldn't have a family when doing this godforsaken job. But there's no helping it! Who told my wife to be so beautiful? If she stays alive and falls into the hands of a pretty boy like you, I won't be able to rest easy even in death..."
His words ended there. I drew my blade out casually and smiled. "Brother Zheng, you can rest easy now."
Uncle Tong was my father's close friend and a descendant of a prestigious family. He encountered some misfortune after joining the Wujing Sect and left the sect in a state of dejection. After the great upheaval in my family, he was the only one who still looked out for me, though he only realized what had happened after I finished my apprenticeship at the Wujing Sect. He sighed, saying that if he had known sooner, he could have used his remaining one or two connections to protect me and spare me from those sufferings. He joined Yingzhao Temple entirely for my sake, saying with a smile that he had to protect the last bloodline of his old friend; if he couldn't, he at least had to try his best.
Every time I returned to the capital, I would visit him once or twice, just to hear him call me "A-Yun." It allowed me to remember a little of the past, to remember who I once was, and the expectations of my mother and brother, so that I wouldn't truly degenerate into something neither human nor ghost. Furthermore, because he had damaged his meridians and foundation in his youth, his health was fragile, so I had to pay him more attention and send him medicine.
When Uncle Tong reached out to grab that cat, a strong sense of rejection suddenly surged in my heart. At least during the days we were together, I wanted A-Zhi to be mine; no one else could touch her. My melancholy stemmed from the fact that I could not control her gaze, nor could I master whom she loved. It also lay in the fact that I seemed to love her a bit too much; of the thousands of schemes I could devise with a flick of my wrist, I couldn't bear to use a single one on her.
This silly cat had somehow revealed her original form and thought she was well-hidden, unaware that her snow-white fur shone brilliantly under the moonlight. She was like a small, fallen moon herself.
I couldn't truly stay and play with her in the room, fearing she would grow suspicious and realize I could recognize her original form at a glance. I could only pretend to read, but I accidentally came across the line "the bride goes to her home." My chest felt tight, and a lump formed in my throat; I couldn't finish the poem. One day, she will belong to another. Perhaps I will even have to prepare a gift she likes and smile as I watch her go, hearing her call me "Cousin" in that playful, witty voice as she introduces me to others. That is the only relationship we can have. And even that relationship is a lie, never having been real.
She knew I was upset, but she didn't know why. She could only call out sweetly, looking up at me with a face full of concern and tenderness. At that moment, I even felt I was being foolish and ridiculous—how could I see human expressions on the face of a literal cat? I was truly possessed.
I took out all the food I had in my robes to show her, which was, of course, also intentional. At the very least, I wanted her to know my intentions. I am, by nature, a fawning villain of honeyed words and unscrupulous means; I didn't mind letting her know that I would miss her. Ever since the day I bought the lotus-leaf-wrapped snacks and truly ran into her again, I had developed this pointless habit. I always felt that if I carried the food and toys she liked, I could miraculously see her again—or at least, whenever we met, I would be prepared to take out some trifles to make her happy.
She really did leave. That night in the inn, I said, "Sleep. When you wake, I'll take you home." But I didn't even get the chance to personally see her off. In a fit of pique, I ordered all the men I had stationed along the route to be withdrawn. Captain Zhou, thinking himself clever, reported her movements as she and her senior disciples left the capital region for Zhaozhou, and I punished him severely.
In front of others, and in front of her, I always maintain a refined and gentle facade. In truth, I have long since become tyrannical and cruel. Killing has gradually shifted from a necessary evil to a way of venting and finding amusement. The only difference between me and those ultimate villains who plague the land is that I am somewhat selective about my targets, rarely killing the innocent or the weak. This is only because the stronger the opponent, the greater the sense of satisfaction I gain from tormenting them; it isn't necessarily due to any human ethics or moral teachings. After pretending for these few months, I thought I had been stained by some of the goodness in A-Zhi, but as it turned out, after she left, everything returned to the way it was, perhaps even slightly worse.
The decision to restrain my wicked nature—or at least to hide it well in front of her—was because the one time I had revealed even a sliver of the truth, it had made her angry with me. In fact, she wasn't wrong at all; I am indeed cold-faced and cold-hearted, skilled in lies and possessing countless masks. That
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Dreams of the Ancient Mountain: The Cat's Masquerade | Chapter 213 | The Heart's Shadow | Novela.app | Novela.app
