The slap was both loud and hard, causing his right cheek to sting. Suddenly, shuffling sounds came from a thicket on the side, and Wei WuXian saw a donkey emerge from within. As he dropped his hand, the donkey actually approached on its own, unlike other times. Wei WuXian pulled on its long ears and forced a smile, “You wanted to save the damsel in distress, but asked me to be the hero to the rescue.”
The donkey whined, just as a wave of cultivators approached from the bottom of the hill. After the four-hundred-or-so spirit-binding nets were destroyed by Lan WangJi’s sword, the hesitant cultivators in Buddha’s Feet all rushed up again. Everyone here was probably Jin Ling’s opponent. Wei WuXian considered for a moment, about whether or not to make them retreat again with force. But, after thinking about it, he ended up silently walking out of the way, letting them pass.
The disciples from different sects, wearing differently colored uniforms, complained as they walked, “Both the Jin Sect and the Jiang Sect spoil Young Master Jin too much. He’s still so young, but he’s already this arrogant and rude. If they let him have the LanlingJin Sect, who knows what chaos would happen? I don’t think we’d even survive.”
Wei WuXian slowed his pace.
A soft-hearted female cultivator sighed, “How can they not spoil him? He lost both his parents at such a young age.”
“Shimei, that’s not how it works. So what, if both his parents died? There are tons who lost both of their parents. If everyone acted like him, then what would happen?”
“I’m surprised that Wei WuXian was cruel enough to harm her. Jin Ling’s mother was Jiang Cheng’s elder sister from birth—the shijie who brought him up.”
“It really was too bad for Jiang YanLi, bringing up a wolf that bites the owner’s hand. Jin ZiXuan had it even worse. Just because he had something to do with Wei WuXian, he ended up like that.”
“Why does Wei WuXian have something to do with everyone…”
“Indeed. Have you heard him being close with anyone other than the mad dogs that he raised? His enemies were everywhere, and he did wrong to everyone. Even with HanGuang-Jun, they were like fire and water, hating each other.”
“Speaking of it, today, if it wasn’t for HanGuang-Jun…”
After walking for a while, the gurgling sounds of a running stream came into Wei WuXian’s ears.
He didn’t hear this when he came up. Wei WuXian finally realized that he walked the wrong path down the mountain, and onto another one that forked off.
Holding the reins of the donkey, he stood beside the running water. The moon could be seen high in the sky. With no branches or leaves on the banks of the stream, fragments of white reflected over the surface. In the reflection, Wei WuXian saw a face, ever-changing from the flow of the water.
He slammed his palm into the water, dissolving the ridiculous features. He lifted his dripping wet palms and wiped away the powder on his face.
A handsome, graceful youth appeared in the reflections of the water. He looked as pure as if he had been cleansed by moonlight, with smooth brows, bright eyes, and lips curving slightly upward. Yet, as he lowered his head to stare at himself, the drops of water hanging from his lashes rolled off, as if they were drops of tears.
It was a young and unfamiliar face, not the YiLing Patriarch who had overturned the world and killed thousands—Wei WuXian.
After taking a few more looks at this face, Wei WuXian wiped his face again and rubbed his eyes. He sat beside the stream with a thud.
It wasn’t as if he couldn’t withstand the words of attack. After all, back when he made the decision, he fully understood the situations that he had to face. Ever since then, he had reminded himself of the YunmengJiang Sect’s motto—do it even if it was impossible.
However, although he thought that his heart was like a stone, in the end, he was still human, not some emotionless grass or plant.
The donkey seemed as if it knew that he wasn’t in a great mood, and for once, it wasn’t being loud out of impatience. A moment of silence passed, and it turned around to leave. Wei WuXian sat by the stream, not responding at all. It turned around to look, throwing its hooves onto the ground, but Wei WuXian still paid no attention to it. The donkey had to come back sulkily, biting and tugging on the corner of Wei WuXian’s collar.
He could choose to go, and he could choose to not go. Seeing that the donkey had went as far as to use his mouth, Wei WuXian decided to follow him. The donkey took him to a few trees and circled around an area of grass. In the grass, there lay a qiankun bag, with a ragged golden net hanging above it. It probably fell off as an unlucky cultivator struggled their way out. Wei WuXian picked up the bag and opened it. There were quite a few items in it, such as gourds of medicinal liquor, talismans, miniature demon-reflecting mirrors, and so on.
He fished around for some time and happened to pull out a talisman. Immediately, a ball of fire appeared in his hand.
The burning item was an gloom-burning talisman, which, like its name, used dark energy as fuel. It would burn automatically if it made contact with dark energy. The more energy there was, the stronger the flame was. It lit up as soon as it was taken out, meaning that there was a spirit not far away from Wei WuXian.
Seeing the light of the fire, Wei WuXian held it to detect the spirit’s direction, watching attentively. When he turned to the east, the fire weakened; when he turned to the west, the fire suddenly intensified. He walked a few steps toward the direction, and saw a white, stooping figure appear under a tree.
The talisman had finished burning, and the ashes fell from his fingertips. An old man was sitting with his back to him, speaking in faint murmurs.
Wei WuXian slowly approached. The words that the old man murmured became clear.
“It hurts, it hurts.”
Wei WuXian asked, “Where does it hurt?”
The old man answered, “Head. My head.”
Wei WuXian replied, “Let me take a look at it.”
He walked a few steps to the side of the old man, and saw a bloodied, large hole on his forehead. This was a ghost, probably killed with a weapon which was smashed onto his head. He was dressed in a burial robe made with fine material and craftsmanship, meaning that he had already been en-coffined and buried properly. This wasn’t the soul that a living human had lost.
However, ghosts like this shouldn’t have appeared on Dafan Mountain.
Wei WuXian did not find an explanation to this implausible scenario. Feeling quite worried, he jumped onto the donkey’s back, slapped it with a shout, and rode toward the direction of where Jin Ling came up the mountain.
Around the area of the ancient tombs, there were a lot of cultivators who wandered around, in hope of a hare crashing into the tree trunk. Somebody dared to hold a spirit-attraction flag, but only attracted a bunch of dark spirits who wept despairingly. Wei WuXian pulled on the reins, scanned around, and asked in a loud, clear voice, “Excuse me and sorry for the interruption, but where did the young masters from the Jin Clan and the Lan Clan go?”
Sure enough, after washing his face, people actually acknowledged him. One cultivator answered, “They left here, for Goddess Temple.”
Wei WuXian spoke, “Goddess Temple?”
The rural clan from back then had sneaked up the mountain again and joined the group of night-hunters, after hearing that all of the deity-binding nets were destroyed. The middle-aged man recognized his clothing and the grimacing donkey, realizing that he was lunatic who’d saved them earlier. He felt quite awkward, and pretended that nothing had happened. Nonetheless, the round-faced girl showed him the path, “Over there. It’s a divine temple in a cave on the mountain.”