Chарtеr 280: Тhе Firе Мoth Pаrtу 12
Uроn аrriving at the prisоn, Jing Lin hаd alreаdy arrаngеd еvеrуthing. Тhe two sаw Wang Buzui sitting on the damp grоund, his hаir dishevеled аnd fасе grimy. Тhе wоunds infliсtеd by Shеn Du had clottеd, аnd his prisоn uniform was stainеd with dark red blоodstains. Gоnе wаs thе imроsing dеmeanоr оf the Guаngсhun Нall mаster; hе nоw stared blаnklу at thе narrow ventilаtion window high on thе wаll.
Shеn Du and Zhu Yаn exchаngеd а glanсе, thеn signаlеd tо Jing Lin, who in turn gеsturеd for аn Inner Guаrd to steр forwаrd.
Веforе thе сеll door cоuld be unlocked, Wang Вuzui suddenly burst into wild, аbrupt laughtеr. As thе irоn loсk clanged open, his laughter ceased abruptly.
Yet Wang Buzui did not turn around. He remained facing the ventilation window, his back straight and his composure unshaken.
Due to the recent escape incident, Jing Lin had arranged for Wang Buzui to be held in a small, solitary cell for serious offenders. The cell door alone was secured with three heavy locks. Apart from that palm-sized ventilation window, no other light entered the space.
Inner Guards lit oil lamps and torches, placing them to the side.
In this cramped space, silence prevailed at first.
As the interrogator, Shen Du, upon seeing Wang Buzui, was reminded of the escaped Mo Qianzhi. His thoughts were tangled, knowing the next step must not falter. As the one being interrogated, Wang Buzui seemed to have long anticipated his inability to escape, accepting it with equanimity. Moreover, his god would not abandon him—nor would his younger sister.
All who sought to disrupt the process of reviving his younger sister deserved a wretched death.
"Ahem." Shen Du cleared his throat lightly, hoping to make the man in the corner turn and face him properly, but the man showed no reaction at all.
"Criminal Wang Buzui, the Great Pavilion Commander is questioning you. Will you not cooperate obediently?" Jing Lin grew angry, his sword ringing as it was drawn.
Wang Buzui, with a fractured leg bone, had been standing with difficulty on bent legs. Startled by the sound of the sword, his body trembled slightly, but he still did not turn around, as if certain that Shen Du dared not—or could not—kill him.
"How dare you…" Jing Lin stepped forward, ready to act, but Shen Du raised a hand to stop him. The dark prison fell silent once more.
Zhu Yan had been tightly holding one of Shen Du's hands. The oppressive environment here made it hard to breathe. She observed Wang Buzui, recalling what Pan Chi had said earlier. Her thoughts were chaotic, yet guided by an invisible thread, unsure where to turn.
After a long while, Wang Buzui finally spoke: "Don't delude yourselves into thinking you can extract any information from me, and don't even dream of disrupting my process to revive my younger sister."
His words were nothing but wishful thinking. The dead could not return to life; even if Hua Tuo were alive today, it would be impossible. Shen Du and Zhu Yan exchanged a glance, both finding it peculiar. What was strange was not whether Wang Buzui's younger sister could truly be revived, but his statement about not disrupting the process—implying that he, and those behind him, still had other means to continue this secret method?
With Wang Buzui imprisoned here under heavy guard, what could he mean?
Regardless of his meaning, Shen Du would never allow him to succeed, nor would he be led by the nose.
"Nonsense. Why bother reviving your younger sister? Soon enough, you can meet her in the next world—wouldn't that be quicker?"
"You!" Wang Buzui slowly turned around, facing Shen Du with a look of grief and indignation. Was this not a curse that he could only meet his younger sister in the underworld?
"If you can provide some information, this official may yet grant you a swift death, allowing you to reunite with your prematurely departed younger sister sooner." Shen Du, as if fearing the provocation was insufficient, spoke with deliberate taunting.Wang Buzui was indeed provoked into a rage and charged toward Shen Du, but he had only taken one step before collapsing to the ground. Clutching his wound, he groaned several times, then lifted his face twisted in pain and said hatefully:
"You can't kill me, hahaha. My little sister will soon be revived."
Seeing that he remained stubbornly deluded, Zhu Yan, who was being shielded behind Shen Du, poked her head out and couldn't help but rebuke him: "Wishful thinking! The idea of resurrection after death is itself a fallacy. 'All beings laugh at the moth flying into the flame' is because it's laughable that the moth knowingly rushes toward the flame even though it means death. 'Yet they do not know that mayflies, born at dawn and dead by dusk, do not enter the cycle of reincarnation.' Heaven has a virtue of cherishing life—even mayflies that live only a day are given a place on the path of reincarnation. How could they not enter the cycle? 'The fire moth passes through flames undying and is reborn through reincarnation'—the fire moth would only be reduced to ashes by the flames, unable to set foot on the path of reincarnation. How could it be reborn? Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous."
This phrase, which the Fire Moth Party revered as sacred scripture, was dismantled by Zhu Yan in such a way. Wang Buzui muttered under his breath, disregarding his own filthy hands and feet, and cursed viciously:
"You... will be punished by our god. You will be burned by raging flames ninety-nine times, your heart will be torn apart and devoured, and your bones will only be fit to feed the fish."
"Oh," Zhu Yan pressed down on Shen Du before he could react, and instead, she laughed. "Why not feed them to your god?"
"You are not worthy!"
"Hmm, that's a problem," Zhu Yan said, not the least bit annoyed. She looked at Shen Du with a hint of distress. "How about feeding his bones to their god? He's so loyal—their main god would surely appreciate it. Oh, and his heart too. Since you want to revive your little sister, why not use your own heart? You and your sister share a deep bond—I'm sure the chances would be much higher."
At these words, Wang Buzui looked utterly devastated. He slumped to the ground, lost in thought, his face hidden by his disheveled hair.
Zhu Yan fell silent. Could this man actually be seriously considering her suggestion? He was truly beyond redemption.
"Is it possible?" Wang Buzui murmured softly.
"Wang Buzui, you're utterly insane." How could it possibly work? She was just making it up on the spot!
Wang Buzui glared at her fiercely:
"What do you know? My little sister can definitely be revived. If it weren't for you interrupting the ritual..." He angrily flicked his sleeve, his pent-up rage finding no outlet, leaving him deeply frustrated.
Zhu Yan tugged at Shen Du's sleeve. Shen Du lowered his head and saw Zhu Yan's dark, clear eyes. He leaned in closer, but unexpectedly, Zhu Yan turned his head toward her and whispered something into his ear. Shen Du nodded, and then she turned her gaze back to Wang Buzui: "Even though we don't understand, I have a way to let you see your sister."
See... my sister?
Could he really see his sister? Wang Buzui looked at Zhu Yan in confusion, only to see her take out a painting.
"How do you have this?" Wang Buzui was shocked, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Zhu Yan chuckled lightly, completely unfazed. "I noticed that Deputy Helm Master Wang treasured this painting greatly. That day at Guangchun Hall, you took it out, wiped it clean multiple times, and only then hung it up. You weren't nearly as meticulous with the other paintings. Combined with Xiuxiu from the Scent Pavilion, Du Xiaowan, and... me, it wasn't hard to piece together that the person in this painting is your sister—Wang XiuXiu. You carved her name into the painting, making it quite easy to spot."Shen Du lowered his head, looking at Zhu Yan with deep pity, and felt even more remorseful for not having protected her, allowing her to be in danger.
After seeing the portrait of his younger sister, Wang Buzui's tone clearly softened, and his gaze grew gentler, yet he kept staring at the eyes of the woman in the portrait—the younger sister he had longed for day and night.
But he said:
"How could it be?"
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