Lover's Tears: The End of Time | Chapter 64 | The Silent Guardian | Novela.app

Chapter 65 - The Silent Guardian By the time Fan Shaojing arrived, the State Preceptor had already secured the green-eyed zombie within the restrictive confines of the formation. Hidden in the shadows, Fan Shaojing had been observing the scene for quite some time. He made no effort to conceal his presence, and the State Preceptor, a man of considerable cultivation himself, had long since sensed him. Yet, neither had moved to interfere with the other until this very moment. Seeing the green-eyed zombie finally subdued, the Sect Leader of Cuiwei Mountain stepped forward with measured, leisurely strides. He adjusted his Daoist robes and offered a polite salutation. "Infinite Heavenly Lord. State Preceptor, I trust you have been well since we last met?" Since time immemorial, the world of martial sects and the imperial court had maintained a wary distance from one another. Consequently, the State Preceptor had no intention of engaging in idle chatter with Fan Shaojing. "Sect Leader Fan," he replied, his voice cold and clipped. "The monster has been captured. If there is nothing else, this humble priest shall take his leave." He moved to haul the green-eyed zombie away, but in a blur of motion, Fan Shaojing appeared directly in his path, blocking the way with an unfazed smile. "State Preceptor, I am afraid I cannot allow you to take this zombie with you." The State Preceptor’s expression soured instantly. "If Sect Leader Fan had an objection, why did you not speak up sooner?" Fan Shaojing remained composed, his tone remarkably candid. "Fellow Daoist, had I raised the issue earlier, a fierce struggle would have surely broken out between us. We are both men of the cloth; would it not be a shame to ruin our harmonious relations over such a thing?" The State Preceptor’s irritation flared. "And you think interfering now will not ruin our harmony?" Fan Shaojing’s smile widened, radiating an aura of pure, unadulterated sincerity. "At this moment, Fellow Daoist has exhausted a vast amount of True Essence to subdue this demon. You are no longer a match for me. Since I am standing in your way and you are a man who understands the flow of the times, we can settle this without further violence. Thus, our harmony remains perfectly intact, does it not?" "You..." The State Preceptor pointed a trembling finger at Fan Shaojing’s nose. His face turned from pale to a sickly green, his beard bristling with suppressed rage. Even Fan Shaojing’s own Corpse Fiend, standing nearby, found the sight a bit much to bear. The servant quickly rummaged through a travel pack and produced a small jade bottle, handing it over. On the side of the bottle, a line of small characters read: *Fast-Acting Heart-Saving Pills.* Fan Shaojing offered the bottle with a look of genuine concern. "These are produced by the Guantian Pavilion. The efficacy is remarkable, the quality is guaranteed, and there are absolutely no toxic side effects. Perhaps Fellow Daoist should take one first?" The State Preceptor nearly collapsed on the spot. Anyone who could climb to the rank of State Preceptor possessed a certain level of pragmatism. Though he was livid, he knew Fan Shaojing was right. His True Essence was depleted; to fight now would be nothing short of seeking humiliation. However, leaving without a word would ruin his reputation. He paused, casting a final, venomous glare over his shoulder. "Fan, the State Preceptor shall remember this. I will come to seek your guidance another day." Fan Shaojing bowed slightly, still smiling. "Even on another day, I would not dare to accept guidance from the Great State Preceptor." The State Preceptor felt a small spark of satisfaction at this show of 'deference.' He was just about to snort and remark on Fan Shaojing’s supposed sense of propriety when a young disciple from Cuiwei Mountain spoke up from behind his master, sounding genuinely confused. "Master, why would you not dare to seek guidance from the State Preceptor?" Fan Shaojing, being a 'kind-hearted' man, looked the State Preceptor up and down before answering his disciple with a straight face. "How have I taught you? Is seeking conflict and flaunting strength the way of a Daoist? Furthermore," he added with a look of feigned terror and exaggerated honesty, "the State Preceptor holds an extraordinary position in our dynasty. What if I were to accidentally strike him dead?" "You... you...!" The State Preceptor began to foam at the mouth and promptly fainted. *** When the green-eyed zombie finally regained consciousness, it found itself at Cuiwei Mountain. The room was empty and silent. It lay still on the couch for a long time, feeling the lingering damage of the talisman fire as it seeped into every inch of its meridians and bones, rendering it immobile. It wasn't until late afternoon that Fan Shaojing strolled into the room. Seeing the zombie awake, he showed no surprise. He sat down and asked bluntly, "Do you still wish to die?" The zombie harbored no affection for the man and countered, "What if I do? And what if I don't?" Fan Shaojing smoothed the hem of his robes and sat by the bedside, speaking as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "If you do, I shall save myself the trouble. If you don't... well, I suppose I should start applying this medicine." The zombie was incensed, finally realizing why its body was still racked with such agonizing pain—the man hadn't even started treating it yet. Fan Shaojing watched its changing expressions for a moment before continuing. "Actually, my Junior Brother was right. You truly cannot handle parting. You forcibly raised your cultivation, but your heart and mind never kept pace. A being like you, even if given ten or a hundred lifetimes, would find it all for naught. Hou, if you had died today, would you have regretted it?" The green light in the zombie’s eyes flickered, dimming and brightening in turns. "I would... I would have regretted it unto eternity." Only then did Fan Shaojing pull a medicine bottle from his sleeve and begin cleaning the wounds. The zombie was still confused. "I drank that vial of talisman water." Fan Shaojing didn't look up. "Mhm." The zombie struggled to prop itself up. "But I didn't die." "Don't move!" Fan Shaojing barked. "This medicine is expensive. I didn't find any 'talisman water.' It was just ordinary stream water. That girl... she didn't actually want to kill you." The zombie froze. A moment later, a silly, blissful smile spread across its face. "I knew it. I knew she wouldn't kill me." Fan Shaojing pressed a hand to his forehead, sighing. "Great Bodhisattva Guanyin... this mount of yours still has a very long 'adolescence' ahead of him." *** A month later, the ninth daughter of Squire Liu, Liu Shuixian, was wed. The dowry included a thousand acres of fertile land, and the 'ten miles of red'—the procession of gifts and attendants—seemed to have no end. The green-eyed zombie stood hidden within the throngs of spectators lining the streets. Inside the grand bridal sedan, the bride, adorned in her phoenix crown and embroidered robes, gently lifted the heavy red curtain embroidered with dragons and phoenixes. She looked back and smiled—a smile as radiant as spring flowers. The streets were crowded, the setting sun casting long, golden shadows as the festive music shook the very heavens. The zombie stood tall and still, its ink-black hair ruffled by the wind, veiling its expression from the world. It forced back its tears, letting its vision hold nothing but that single smile and the clear gaze beneath the beaded veil. *I am sad, but I will not be foolish again. You were wrong; I am not chasing a mere memory or a fleeting emotion. I am chasing a person. Every word you ever said, every promise I ever made to you... I remember. I have always remembered.* *If you have forgotten, then I shall remember for you. That way... you never have to remember the pain.* The heavy curtain fell back into place. All the entanglements of past and present lives, all the unfinished business, were severed by that single piece of red silk. The zombie suddenly let out a low, self-deprecating laugh, looking utterly forlorn. *You see, Qiao'er? In the end, all Hou ever had to rely on was your love. If that love is gone, I truly have nothing.* *** Hou remained at the Prince of Pingnan’s estate, though he kept his form hidden, never allowing a soul to see him. Guanyin came to persuade him to leave several times, but the zombie refused to budge. Guanyin had never experienced the romantic love of the mortal world, but he had witnessed far too much of it. "Hou, a day in heaven is a year on earth. Come with me to the Western Paradise. In just a few days, you can wait for her next reincarnation. Why stay here and add to your own sorrow?" Hou watched Shuixian as she sat in the garden reading a book. He answered with profound seriousness, "If I leave, what if someone bullies her?" Guanyin felt a wave of helplessness. "She is now the consort of the Prince’s heir. That man owes her a debt of gratitude; her Book of Fate promises a lifetime of stability. He could never mistreat her." Hou was still unconvinced. "But what if the Prince and his wife bully her?" Guanyin took a willow sprig from his Pure Vase and swatted the zombie with it. "The Prince and his wife are decent people. Liu Shuixian is a woman who knows how to navigate the world, and she has her husband to protect her. How could she suffer grievances?" Hou thought for a long time, his neck still stiff with stubbornness. "Then... what if she forgets to cover herself with a blanket at night?" "For heaven's sake!" Guanyin turned and left without looking back. *** Throughout her entire life, Liu Shuixian never saw Hou again. Occasionally, she would think of that foolish zombie and wonder if it had finally managed to move on and let go. She lived a life free of illness and calamity, passing her days in tranquility. She and the Prince’s heir remained devoted to each other until the very end—sharing a bed in life and a tomb in death. She lived to the age of seventy, surrounded by children and grandchildren. One day, her descendants went to the tomb to pay their respects. A four-year-old child laughed and ran toward the headstone of his grandfather and grandmother. He held out an apple, his voice crisp and innocent. "Big brother, this is for you." Everyone followed the direction of his small finger, but there was no one standing before the monument. When memories are as long as life itself, humans eventually forget the past embarrassments and glories, the old grudges and lingering affections. Only the gods remain, forever unable to forget. ***