Chapter Thirty-Five: Mandarin Ducks in Pairs, Intertwined Branches United

Liu Chengyin let out a long, weary sigh, tinged with melancholy. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke, “I shouldn’t have killed that constable from the yamen.”

Hearing such words, Zhong Ming was taken aback. He had always thought this half-human, half-ghost old fiend—who could slaughter thousands in an instant—was a cold-blooded, unreasonable killer. Yet unexpectedly, this man was more willing than most to confront his own mistakes.

In this world, how many people are too stubborn to admit their faults, and how many, knowing they are wrong, refuse to change?

Liu Chengyin turned to look at the rank of fine-scaled cavalry singing behind him and sighed, “Those before me taught: follow their virtues, avoid their vices. Such chivalrous heroes, bound by the code of the jianghu—I killed them in error.”

By his tone alone, Zhong Ming could tell Liu Chengyin’s heart was heavy with loneliness.

He had avenged his greatest grief, venting the bitterness that had weighed on him for decades, yet now found himself without purpose.

Decades ago, Liu Chengyin, too, was a scholar. Unlike the usual ruthless fiends, he retained the scholar’s rationality and melancholy. Such contradictory traits coexisted within him, making one sigh at the marvel of his character.

Zhong Ming tried to comfort him, “To make amends is the path of a true gentleman. Grandfather Liu, do not torment yourself over Constable Kong’s death. I do not know if life and death are predestined, but I know this: when Constable Kong acted on the justice in his heart, he must have expected this day might come. His end may not have been perfect, but it stayed true to his ideals.”

To die on the battlefield is a general’s glory; to fall in service is the wish of a devoted constable.

The words of the young man made the old demon Liu Chengyin laugh heartily. He then said, “Worthy indeed to be a descendant of the Zhong family! Still a fledgling, and yet you can speak such words and see things more clearly than I—a man who has lived for decades. Truly, the Zhong family is blessed, and there is hope for its revival.”

After a moment’s laughter, the clamor of steel on scale and the marching song of the fine-scaled cavalry behind them ceased.

Liu Chengyin stood with hands clasped behind his back and laughed, “Zhong Ming, come with me now. Before I leave, I will give you something—a gift that, in all these borderlands, only you are worthy to receive.”

No sooner had he spoken than the sea of corpses at the youth’s feet churned again, a fierce wind rising as mountains of bodies and rivers of blood surged toward the ruined temple west of the city.

On the street before the Wu estate, Yang Yanlang watched the tide of corpses in the distance, frowned, mounted his horse, and shouted, “After them!”

Sun Longhu bellowed, “Fine-scaled Dragonhead Cavalry, advance!”

The fine-scaled cavalry wheeled about and thundered after the sea of corpses.

...

Meanwhile, outside the ruined city wall.

The hour for opening the gate had passed; the gates were tightly shut. The night watchman of the yamen dared not leave his post in the tower, clutching his blade and trembling.

The cries and wails from the city had been terrifying. A mediocre yamen runner like him would never dare look outside, let alone get involved, for fear of inviting disaster upon himself.

Below the gate stood a crowd, led by Liang Yu, whose face was anxious as he shouted, “Open the gate! Hurry! My Ming is still inside—I must find him!”

Beside him, Fei Dacheng, sweating profusely, chimed in, “If you don’t open the gate, Captain Yang will have you punished tomorrow. My Ming is the captain’s own nephew!”

No response came from the tower; the timid runner pretended not to hear.

After shouting themselves hoarse, Liang Yu could only stamp his feet in frustration. “What now? The city is filled with screams and wails. If we can’t find Ming, I won’t be at peace!”

The boys from Muddy Village were all anxious, but at the back of the crowd, Old Lady Wu looked up at the sky, just in time to see the river of corpses sweeping westward.

Her eyes were now blood-red, tears of blood streaming from the corners.

Old Lady Wu, trembling, pointed at the sea of corpses and cried, “It’s him—it truly is him.”

With that, she hobbled after the corpses toward the west, but in her haste, stumbled and fell to the ground.

Even so, she picked herself up with her cane and continued limping westward.

Hearing the commotion, Liang Yu turned to see the old woman’s battered figure. He hurried forward, calling, “Old Lady Wu, where are you going?”

Earlier, Old Lady Wu had insisted on following the boys into the city, impossible to dissuade. Everyone knew her mind was not quite right and didn’t press her.

Now, heedless of everything, she tottered westward, step by unsteady step. Liang Yu cursed in frustration.

In chaotic times, there are always those who add to the confusion.

He was at a loss, unable to let the nearly blind old woman go alone. He instructed Fei Dacheng, “Da Chi, keep watch here. As soon as the gate opens, go report to the captain and find Ming.”

Fei Dacheng was startled, “Hei Ge, where are you going?”

“I’m taking Old Lady Wu home.”

Turning, Liang Yu jogged to catch up, lifting the old lady onto his back. “Grandma, let me take you home. It’s late, and it’s dangerous for you to be out alone.”

But Old Lady Wu struck his back with her cane, shouting, “I’m not going home! After them, hurry!”

Following the direction of her cane, Liang Yu saw the tide of corpses surging west. After a brief hesitation, the old woman began to struggle harder.

Gritting his teeth, Liang Yu said, “Alright, Grandma, don’t worry—I’ll go with you!”

And so, carrying Old Lady Wu, Liang Yu chased after the corpses toward the ruined temple to the west.

...

The night wind was now gentle, the full moon no longer blood-red, but pure and bright.

Liu Chengyin led Zhong Ming by wind all the way back to the ruined temple to the west, where the sea of corpses settled in the courtyard.

The temple was in worse disrepair than before, its walls largely destroyed by Zhong Ming’s earlier storm of sand, broken bricks and tiles strewn everywhere.

A faint scent of blood still lingered in the air; the Wu family’s guards had all died here, their blood half-congealed. As Zhong Ming landed, his feet stained the ground with bloody prints.

Liu Chengyin, controlling the youth’s body, approached the millennia-old willow. The ancient tree was now withered—its spring shoots yellowed before they could turn green, the leaves falling before their time.

The youth’s hands caressed the dry bark as Liu Chengyin’s soft voice sounded in his ear, “This old willow has sheltered my family for many years. For over fifty years, it has been my daily companion, my old friend of wood and spirit.”

Zhong Ming did not speak, but listened quietly as Liu Chengyin continued.

“This old willow is rich in spiritual energy, a true spirit among trees. If not for its decades of nurturing, I would not be who I am today. But I have taken too much of its life force. My old friend cannot survive any longer.”

A note of sorrow crept into Liu Chengyin’s voice. “Now that I must leave, and it cannot go on, there is still a trace of its energy left. Today, I will pass it on to you—let nothing go to waste.”

Zhong Ming was quietly astonished. Before he could ask anything, Liu Chengyin said, “Say nothing, and do not resist. I will guide the tree’s spirit into your body.”

As soon as he finished, Zhong Ming felt the scarlet true energy within him surging uncontrollably from his dantian.

A gentle warmth flowed from his palms, as if a spring breeze brushing a willow, a mountain stream trickling endlessly into his body.

Before long, a mass of green vapor condensed in his dantian.

The green energy was stronger than his own true energy, but less agile. It lay dormant, like something inanimate, quietly lurking in his core.

Outside, the ancient willow withered at a visible rate. In moments, it was completely lifeless, the dry branches cracked and split.

Within Zhong Ming, a fist-sized mass of green energy now hovered in his dantian, with the red true energy swirling around it, the two forces not interfering with each other.

When the willow had faded entirely, Zhong Ming withdrew his hand. Liu Chengyin laughed, “It’s done. Though the essence of grass and wood is now but a fraction of its former self, it will serve you well. With your talent, you’ll soon make the Earthly Fiend rankings of the martial world.”

Zhong Ming rejoiced and bowed. “Thank you, Grandfather Liu.”

“Don’t thank me—thank the old willow.”

At those words, Zhong Ming looked up at the tree; it had fulfilled its purpose, its trunk devoid of any hint of life.

After a long gaze, Liu Chengyin spoke again, “All is done for today. It’s time I took my leave.”

The youth’s body moved toward the sea of corpses. Black smoke billowed, and two broken bodies emerged, carrying the corpse of Constable Kong. Zhong Ming’s body approached, placing a hand upon the corpse.

Liu Chengyin spoke softly, “Since I wronged him, I shall walk the world with his face, carrying on his chivalrous ideals.”

A phantom shadow appeared at the youth’s brow, green light flickering. Zhong Ming seemed to see a pale-faced scholar step out from within him.

In a daze, the green shadow entered Constable Kong’s body.

Constable Kong’s eyes slowly opened, a gleam of green flashing through them. The wounds left by the corpses healed instantly, his rough skin turning smooth and lustrous. In moments, he had taken on the appearance of a pale scholar.

He tore off the constable’s uniform, and at once, a corpse from the sea draped a fine scholar’s robe over Liu Chengyin’s shoulders.

Rolling his neck and flexing his wrists, Liu Chengyin confirmed the body was unharmed and smiled with satisfaction.

With hands clasped behind his back, he turned to Zhong Ming and said, “Boy, let us part here today.”

Zhong Ming hurriedly bowed. “After this farewell, I do not know when we will meet again, Grandfather Liu.”

“All meetings have their time. I’ve spent decades on the borderlands, never setting foot in the world of rivers and lakes. Now, I shall travel these lands, acting for the justice in my heart.”

Hearing his bold declaration, Zhong Ming could not help but admire him.

A prodigal turned back is worth more than gold. Today, still a fiend who slaughtered thousands, he would leave these borderlands a changed man, with a new heart.

Curious, Zhong Ming asked, “And how will you pursue your ideals of justice, Grandfather Liu?”

By then, Liu Chengyin had stepped onto the sea of corpses, still standing hands clasped behind his back. Beside him lay Zhong Wulin’s corpse. Liu Chengyin reached out, gently brushing her cheek. “I have no grand ambitions. I only wish that all lovers may be joined, all pairs united... From now on, I shall devote myself to helping the passionate and the heartbroken of this world.”

The youth stood stunned. What a wish—that all lovers might be joined, all pairs united!

Liu Chengyin would turn his lifelong regret into the force that spurred him to live on, seeking to bless all those lovers cruelly kept apart by fate.

The mountains of corpses and rivers of blood rose into the wind, Liu Chengyin singing high and clear:

“In this world, so many are true to love, yet love goes unfulfilled. I will be the old man beneath the moon, weaving red threads for the world.”

The bright moon hung high, Liu Chengyin’s robes fluttered as he embraced Zhong Wulin’s corpse and flew away on the wind, his poetry still echoing above the ruined temple.

At that moment, Liang Yu arrived at the temple gate, breathless and carrying Old Lady Wu.

Seeing the departing silhouette in the sky, Old Lady Wu cried out, “Liu Chengyin, you heartless man! How can you leave without a glance at me?”

“Liu Chengyin! Heartless man!”

The mountains of corpses and rivers of blood faded into the night, and Liu Chengyin seemed not to hear her cries.

Perhaps he truly hadn’t heard, or perhaps he heard and chose not to look back.

Who can truly fathom the love and longing of the passionate and the wronged?