Xi Chu watched him quietly.
Ming Zhu’s thoughts raced for a long while before he finally said, “Yes.”
A faint flicker stirred in Xi Chu’s hollow, lightless eyes. He slowly stood up and said, “Good. Wait for me.”
As soon as he finished speaking, a fox tail flashed behind him. He leaped from the high tower and vanished in an instant.
Ming Zhu: “...”
Before Ming Zhu could even react, a sudden roar of a wild beast erupted from far below. The entire Moon-Plucking Tower shuddered violently; even the massive bell beside him was jolted, letting out two deep, resonant tolls.
Being so close, the vibrations left Ming Zhu’s head spinning. He curled up on the ground for a long time before he could recover.
Xi Chu returned quickly. By the time the tolling of the bell ceased, he was already kneeling on one knee before Ming Zhu. His blood-soaked hands held a crystalline orb—it was Na Lian’s Demon Eye.
Ming Zhu looked at him in shock. “Since you had the power to take it back, why were you willing to stay in the Moon-Plucking Tower for all these years?”
Silhouetted against the moonlight, Xi Chu watched him silently. Blood dripped from his hands onto the floor with soft, rhythmic thuds. He said, “For... you.”
Ming Zhu took the blood-stained Demon Eye in a daze. “Why give it to me?”
Xi Chu did not answer. Instead, he took Ming Zhu’s hand again and brought it to his lips. He opened his mouth slightly, and a perfectly round pearl slid out, falling into Ming Zhu’s cold palm.
“Is this... your Inner Core?”
It was only then, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, that Ming Zhu realized the chain around Xi Chu’s neck had somehow been triggered. It had dissolved into inches of pitch-black spiritual energy that were burrowing into his meridians like a thousand blades, slowly severing the life force flowing through his body.
This was the shackle Nan Yue used to control Xi Chu’s life. Once activated, it would not stop until the victim was dead.
Xi Chu was covered in blood—it was impossible to tell if it was his own or Nan Yue’s. He clasped Ming Zhu’s hand, forcing him to close his palm over the Inner Core and the Demon Eye. He whispered, “I... always wanted to... go back to Guifang... alive...”
Because he wanted to go back alive, he had allowed himself to be treated like a beast for slaughter.
Because he harbored the delusion of reclaiming the Demon Eye that belonged to Na Lian, he had been deceived for centuries.
But now, Na Lian was dead and Guifang was long gone. He no longer needed to force himself to live within a dream.
“But now... I... no longer have... a place to return to...” The frost remained on Xi Chu’s beautiful face as it had for a hundred years, but his vertical pupils trembled with an indescribable, haunting elegance.
Ming Zhu’s hand, holding the Inner Core and the Demon Eye, shook slightly. He asked in a trembling voice, “Then why are you giving these to me?”
Xi Chu shook his head. “I... don't know either.”
In his own mind, he no longer had any lingering attachments to life. There was little difference between giving his Inner Core to someone else or simply letting it self-destruct. Yet, the moment he saw this person before him, a voice in his heart had insistently urged him to draw near, instinctively driving him to entrust the two most precious things he possessed to this man.
A soft, leisurely exhale drifted from the side. Ming Zhu turned his head and saw that, at some unknown point, Ming Zhao had seated himself atop the bell tower. He was currently gazing at the bright moon in the sky, puffing out clouds of smoke.
Ming Zhu gasped. “You...”
Ming Zhao didn't look at him. He said absentmindedly, “The Cheng-Yao tribe and the Su clan of fate-seers share the same origin. After so many generations of breeding and succession, the bloodline of the Cheng-Yao royalty still retains some fragmented, vestigial ability to divine fate. While it isn't enough to know the future like a true Fate-Seer, they still possess an instinct to seek fortune and avoid calamity.”
Ming Zhu looked at the crystalline orbs in his hand, wondering what he would encounter in the future that would make Xi Chu, driven by instinct, thrust these two items upon him.
Xi Chu saw Ming Zhao, but he no longer had the strength to kill him. He merely gave him a cold, indifferent look.
“Hey, don't look at me like that. I gave Na Lian a way out back then; he was the one who refused to take it.” As Ming Zhao spoke, he frowned and tapped his pipe against a stone. He muttered, “Clogged again? This thing is useless. I should save up some money and buy a new one.”
He hopped down from the bell tower and strolled over to the two of them.
Xi Chu’s bloodlines were being crushed bit by bit by the spell on the shackles Nan Yue had activated. Simply remaining on his knees was his absolute limit. He clutched his chest and spat out a mouthful of blood, staining Ming Zhu’s robes a deep crimson.
Though Ming Zhu’s entire body felt weak, his resentment toward Ming Zhao proved stronger. He struggled to lean against the wall to stand up, his delicate small blade flying out as he said coldly, “Kua—”
Before he could finish calling out 'Kua Yu,' Ming Zhao lazily walked over, pressed a hand against Ming Zhu’s face, and shoved him aside. “Kua your father. Just stay down.”
Ming Zhu: “...”
Only after the curse left his mouth did Ming Zhao realize he had insulted himself. However, he was always a man of whims and didn't care. He leaned down and pressed a finger to the center of Xi Chu’s brow, murmuring, “Well, Na Lian was driven to a dead end because I heavily wounded him, so I suppose I’m the one who killed him. As an apology, I’ll help you one last time.”
As he spoke, he surged his spiritual power, forcibly dragging a cluster of energy shaped like a fox tail out from between Xi Chu’s brows. Then, he tossed it casually to the side.
The "fox tail" streaked into the air and exploded into a cluster of multicolored fireworks. Sparks drifted down, quickly condensing into a phantom figure on the spot.
It was Na Lian, dressed in the magnificent robes of the Cheng-Yao. His hem trailed on the ground, and a rare smile graced his handsome face. He slowly reached out a hand and whispered, “Xi Chu.”
This was the wisp of spiritual energy Na Lian had placed in Xi Chu’s brow hundreds of years ago.
Xi Chu knelt on the ground in a daze, staring at the man who looked like a celestial being. After a long moment, a tender smile suddenly appeared on that exquisite face. He stumbled to his feet and, using the last of his strength, lunged toward the phantom built of fireflies.
“Brother...”
Ming Zhu’s breath hitched. He instinctively tried to stop him. “Xi Chu!”
Because behind that phantom lay the edge of the high tower.
That was merely a wisp of illusory spiritual energy Na Lian had left behind centuries ago to comfort his naive younger brother. Even if Xi Chu lunged for it, there would be no one there to catch him.
Ming Zhao watched the scene with cold eyes. Without even looking, he kicked out at Ming Zhu, pinning him against the wall with a foot on his shoulder.
Xi Chu was oblivious to everything around him. In his eyes and heart, there was only the Na Lian who had been gone for hundreds of years. He opened his arms to embrace the phantom. In the next instant, his cold body passed right through the figure made of light. He hit empty air and began to fall from the tower, dozens of meters high.
"Na Lian" looked at him with a gentle expression, his body dissolving into streaks of firelight that rushed toward him, calling out, “Xi Chu.”
Xi Chu fell straight down, watching the firelight envelop his entire body, making his already cold flesh feel a phantom warmth.
“Xi Chu...”
“Xi Chu.”
Hearing the cries echoing in his ears, Xi Chu suddenly burst into loud laughter. Tears welled up as he plummeted straight down from the high tower.
Ming Zhu shoved Ming Zhao’s leg with all his might and shouted, “He’ll die! He’ll die if he falls!”
Ming Zhao kept his foot on Ming Zhu's shoulder, looking down at him. “He was going to die sooner or later.”
“You cold-blooded, heartless man!”
Ming Zhao heard a dull thud from behind him. Only then did he shrug and move his foot. Ming Zhu immediately scrambled to the edge of the tower, peering down with trembling limbs, only to see a patch of blindingly bright blood on the ground.
Whether it was from a fear of heights or something else, he slumped onto the ground, cold sweat pouring down his face.
***
When Xi Chu had descended from the sky to find Nan Yue earlier, Nan Qinghe had been watching from the side. He watched in a daze as Xi Chu expressionlessly snatched away the Demon Eye that Nan Yue valued more than his own life. He watched as Nan Yue frantically activated the curse on the collar. He watched as Xi Chu’s hand pierced through the defenseless Nan Yue’s heart. Finally, he watched as the blood-soaked figure drifted away.
The surroundings seemed to be shrouded in a layer of mist. Nan Yue’s cold corpse lay amidst the ruins. People all around were shouting something, but Nan Qinghe heard nothing.
He just sat on the wooden steps, looking as though he had been frightened out of his wits. It wasn't until Lu Qingkong, who was searching for Ming Zhu, grabbed him from the steps and demanded Ming Zhu’s whereabouts with a fierce expression that he seemed to wake from the nightmare.
Seeing that Nan Qinghe appeared unable to hear him, Lu Qingkong roared into his ear, “I said! Where did my Senior Brother go?”
Nan Qinghe was stunned by the noise and shook his head blankly.
“Tsk.” Lu Qingkong muttered in frustration, released him roughly, and hurried off to search elsewhere.
Nan Qinghe stood dazed for a long time before wandering forward with a face full of confusion. He didn't know where he was going; he just felt that if he didn't do something right now, he would surely go mad.
He wandered out of the front hall in a trance. A burst of wild, unrestrained laughter drifted from above, followed by a dull thud as a person landed on the ground just three steps away from him.
Blood pooled out instantly.
Nan Qinghe looked strangely at the person lying in the pool of blood. He walked over slowly and knelt gently on the ground. Looking at the face that remained peerless even when covered in blood, he murmured, “This person... looks like Xi Chu.”
The name 'Xi Chu' seemed to give him a spark of motivation. He stood up from the ground in a stupor, turned around, and grabbed a random person, asking, “Have you seen Xi Chu?”
Zhou Fuxue’s gaze fell upon the lifeless Xi Chu nearby, then he looked at Nan Qinghe’s lost and bewildered face. Unlike Ming Zhu, he didn't care about sparing people's feelings. He spoke the blunt truth: “That is Xi Chu. He... is already dead.”
Nan Qinghe froze. He didn't seem to understand what those words meant. After a long while, he tilted his head, released Zhou Fuxue’s arm, and stumbled back toward the front hall, muttering under his breath, “Xi Chu, I need to find Xi Chu...”
“Have you seen Xi Chu?”
“Hey, have you seen him? He’s very good-looking, exceptionally beautiful...”
“Have you all seen Xi Chu?”
Zhou Fuxue watched as he grabbed people one by one, asking, “Has any of you seen Xi Chu?”
***
Enjoying the story? Rate this novel:
Is Everyone Else's Eldest Disciple Like This? | Chapter 40 | A Beauty's Final Fall | Novela.app | Novela.app
