As spring gave way to summer, the lotus flowers in the south were in full bloom, but the journey from the south to the north, toward Shaolin Temple on Mount Song, grew colder and more desolate with each step.
Kui Town was still several hundred miles from Mount Song, yet it was a bustling place. Within a fifty-mile radius, everyone—market-goers, street performers, tricksters, and petty thieves—gathered here. Though small, it was a den of mixed characters.
There was an inn in town that sold white liquor and plain noodles. Originally, it should have served meat dishes, but the cook who roasted meat had a run-in with the Black Tiger Bandits and quietly disappeared without a trace. Since then, the inn’s famous braised beef had vanished.
Yet business at the inn remained thriving. Every day, many people came to drink and eat plain noodles. Across from the entrance was a stage for street performances, and the locals of Kui Town were accustomed to sitting here, enjoying the free shows.
However, today, most of those watching the performances from the inn seemed distracted, their eyes repeatedly darting toward a corner of the room.
"Cough… cough…"
The guest in the corner coughed incessantly. Though the sound was soft, it sent chills down the spine—each cough carried a hint of blood. He wore white robes, but the sleeves and back were faintly stained with blood, clearly indicating his injuries. His face was pale, his cheeks flushed as if drunk, though it looked more like illness. Sitting alone in the deepest corner of the inn, he ate a bowl of plain noodles with refined manners, coughing a few times between each bite, as if the hot broth kept choking him.
The inn was quiet, save for his low coughing. After a while, an old man at the neighboring table finally turned and said, "Young man, did you run into trouble on the road? With those injuries, shouldn’t you see a doctor?"
The man in white smiled faintly. "Thank you for your concern, but it’s nothing serious." Though his appearance was somewhat disheveled, his demeanor remained composed and graceful. He finished most of the noodles, set down his chopsticks, paid, and prepared to leave.
"Young man, beyond Kui Town lies over a hundred miles of mountain roads. With your injuries, wouldn’t it be better to wait until you’ve recovered? I have a couple of spare rooms at home—if you don’t mind, you could stay with me." The old man, taken by the scholar’s refined manner, suddenly grew enthusiastic.
"I have urgent matters to attend to. My apologies, sir." The man in white smiled faintly, his expression almost illusory, making him seem less like a real person and more like a fox spirit or phantom.
"Ah!" The old man sighed as he sat back down. Someone nearby chuckled. "Old Qin’s medical skills are exceptional, and he rarely offers help. This scholar just doesn’t recognize a good thing when he sees it." Qin took a sip of his broth. "I just thought this scholar looked delicate, and with those injuries, crossing Black Tiger Mountain would be a death wish. Ah, young people never listen."
"Those fiends on Black Tiger Mountain are untouchable. I doubt this scholar is any saint either—those wounds look like they came from a blade. Best not meddle. Drink more instead.""Oh? The Black Tiger Mountain is full of deadly stars, and those who go never return? Have you forgotten who brought prosperity to your Hui Chun Hall? Without my Black Tiger Stronghold bringing you business, could you have opened a clinic or bought that shabby tiled house? Old Man Qin, oh Old Man Qin, I heard you were a scholar in your youth. How can you show no gratitude to your benefactor?" A figure flashed outside the door, blocking the entrance with a long-handled guandao. With a thud, the blade struck the ground as the man sneered at Old Man Qin.
Standing in the doorway, he also blocked the path of the man in white. At the sight of him, the patrons in the inn panicked and fled—some through windows, others through the back door—clearing out in an instant. Only Old Man Qin’s table of two and the white-clad man trapped at the entrance remained.
"Old Man Qin, hand over that dead girl Luo Wen. Give her to me, and I’ll spare your old life. I won’t even hold it against you for saving those people from me. That’s a bargain you can’t refuse." The man blocking the door wore a long leopard-skin coat. As the weather warmed, he had torn off the sleeves, leaving his arms bare, giving him the appearance of a savage. Though his hair was wild, he looked no older than thirty.
"Luo Wen is long gone. Even if you kill me, I can’t produce her." Old Man Qin paled. His neighbor Wu Gui, who sat trembling beside him, still stayed at the table, staring fearfully at the leopard-clad man.
"I’ve stationed over three hundred of my Black Tiger Stronghold men across eighteen roads around Kui Town. Do you really think we’d lose track of such a delicate little beauty? Hahaha—hand her over, or else—" Before the leopard-clad man could finish his sinister laugh, a voice suddenly spoke: "Move aside."
Old Man Qin stared in shock as the man in white calmly addressed the leopard-clad man with those words—"Move aside." This young man clearly had no idea who he was dealing with. This was Bao Bao, the "Nine-Headed Leopard of Black Mountain," the ruthless founder of the Black Tiger Stronghold, who had gathered every thug and brawler within a hundred miles to prey on wealthy merchants passing through Kui Town.
A bloodthirsty demon who showed no mercy, Bao Bao was not the kind to step aside just because someone asked politely. It seemed this refined scholar in white was about to meet his doom.
Hearing the words "Move aside," Bao Bao froze, hardly believing his ears. He scrutinized the man in white up and down. "What did you say? Say it again so I can hear it clearly."
"Move aside." The man in white repeated it just as calmly, if not more so.
"You must be a newcomer here, huh?" Bao Bao swung his guandao. "You’ve got a death wish!"
"Young man, run!" Seeing Bao Bao about to strike, Old Man Qin suddenly lunged forward and grabbed the long guandao. "Get out of here! This is no ordinary foe you can trifle with—" Wu Gui, beside him, gasped. "Old Qin, have you lost your mind?"Bao Bao was quite surprised to see Old Man Tan actually risking his life to save someone. With a swift kick, he sent the old man tumbling to the ground. "Want to die? I won’t let you!" he sneered, raising his guandao to chop at the old man’s legs. Wu Gui shut his eyes and let out a scream, too afraid to watch. But after the sound of the blade descending, there was no noise of metal cutting flesh, no cries of agony from Old Man Tan—not even any sudden change of heart from Bao Bao. Everything just fell eerily silent.
After a moment, Wu Gui cautiously opened his eyes. Bao Bao’s guandao hovered just a hair’s breadth above Old Man Tan’s legs. The old man lay stiff on the ground, his face deathly pale, while Bao Bao’s face was flushed with exertion, veins bulging as he strained to bring the blade down—yet it remained frozen in place.
Someone had reached out and caught the blade. With a twist of their wrist, the steel guandao bent at the point of contact before snapping cleanly in two with a casual flick.
Bao Bao’s flushed face instantly drained of color, while Old Man Tan’s pallor turned bright red. Wu Gui was left stammering, utterly speechless.
The one who had effortlessly snapped the blade in half coughed twice before speaking calmly, "I have business to attend to. Don’t block my way."
His voice was soft, his tone gentle and pleasant.
Bao Bao, still gripping the broken half of his weapon, stumbled back two steps, retreating all the way outside the inn.
The man in white casually tossed the other half of the blade back to him and walked out without a second glance.
He didn’t spare Old Man Tan a look, but the old man scrambled to his feet, shouting hoarsely, "Hero—please wait! Hero, please stay!"
The white-clad figure paused slightly. Suddenly, people poured out from inside and outside the inn, and without knowing who started it, they all dropped to their knees before him. "Hero! Save us! Bao Bao is a ruthless villain who has tormented us for years! He’s slaughtered countless travelers, kidnapped young women—we’ve waited so long for someone like you, a hero who can finally stop him! Please, stand up for the people of Kui Town! Kill Bao Bao and drive out the Black Tiger Gang!"
"Save us!"
"Kill Bao Bao!"
"Avenge my daughter!"
"Please, we beg you!"
"We’ll repay your kindness for generations—"
Bao Bao’s face hardened. He lifted his leopard-skin coat and drew out a five-pronged steel hook, glaring venomously at the man in white.
"Cough… cough…" The white-clad man covered his mouth with his sleeve, and when he lowered it, flecks of blood stained the fabric. The crowd tensed—this frail-looking hero seemed barely able to stand. Could he really defeat such a brute? But before they could doubt further, Bao Bao let out a roar and charged, swinging his hook. A dull thud echoed, and in the blink of an eye, Bao Bao was sent flying backward, crashing headfirst into the brick wall of the stage across the street. Blood streamed from his skull as he slumped, motionless.
No one had even seen how he was defeated.
The man in white turned away, already taking a few steps forward as if Bao Bao’s attack had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. The kneeling crowd was still stunned when he spoke, "He’s not dead yet."
At those words, the townspeople surged forward, tying up the unconscious Bao Bao in thick ropes. By the time they finished and looked up, their savior—the frail-seeming man in white—had vanished.
Like mist, he had appeared without warning and disappeared without a trace.It was like a fantastical magic trick, beyond the scope of human imagination.
The man in white was, of course, Tang Lizhen. It had been six days since he left the Wanfu Inn and set out for Shaolin Temple.
The battle at Haoyun Mountain had left him severely injured. Without proper recuperation and having given all his Great Return Pills to A'Shui, this journey to Shaolin Temple was truly the most tumultuous path he had ever walked in his life.
Alone, without Liu Yan or Chi Yun by his side—no one to command, no one to torment. He had killed Chi Yun, brought back Liu Yan, driven away Shen Langhun, and nearly driven Liu Yan to madness by casting A'Shui aside. Along the way, he couldn't help but wonder: What exactly was he doing?
Carving out Fang Zhou's heart, killing Chi Yun, saving Liu Yan… Each decision had been agonizing. For every choice, he had paid a price, weighed the pros and cons, and the outcomes hadn’t strayed too far from his expectations. But…
But why was it so painful?
Why was it so painful?
"Cough… cough…" Black Tiger Mountain wasn’t particularly high. Crossing two more peaks would bring him a hundred miles closer to Song Mountain. His steps were unsteady, but he didn’t stop.
The sharp pain in his chest—he couldn’t tell whether it was from his injuries or simply from the torment. Memories of every decision he had made, every life he had taken, every scheme he had woven, swirled relentlessly in his mind. He remembered every detail with perfect clarity, even the reasons behind each ruthless choice. Yet, alongside those memories, Shen Langhun’s gaze as he looked at Liu Yan, A'Shui drenched in blood, Yu Tuan’er’s cries, and Liu Yan’s desperate plea—"Let me die! If you keep saving me, I’ll go mad before you do!"—all of it played vividly before his eyes, the voices echoing in his ears.
"Ah…" He exhaled sharply, the suffocating pain in his chest offering no relief. The harrowing voices wouldn’t stop ringing in his ears. He was losing his grip on his soul… losing the resolve that had once been unshakable.
If saving Liu Yan was a mistake, if the only way to atone for past sins was to let Liu Yan die, if the hope of restoring Liu Yan to his former self was nothing but a cruel delusion—then why had he abandoned the greater cause at Haoyun Mountain? Why had he shouldered the hatred and malice of the entire martial world? Why hadn’t he just killed Liu Yan at Green Peak Cliff, or simply let him jump to his death…
And then… he wouldn’t have had to cast A'Shui aside…
"Cough… cough…"
When he had thrown A'Shui away, he knew he had given up everything—only to find that what he gained wasn’t the redemption he had planned, but the betrayal and abandonment of all.
"Young master…"
Tang Lizhen paused and calmly lifted his gaze. Not far ahead, amidst the dappled shadows of the forest, stood a woman. At first glance, her clothes were tattered, but she was tall and slender, her body exuding a refined bronze hue—unlike the fair-skinned, delicate women of the south—with a wild, untamed allure.
"Young master, might you… spare me a garment?" Her voice was husky, magnetic, like a whispered murmur before sleep.
Tang Lizhen shook out his outer robe, the white fabric billowing wide before settling gently over the woman’s shoulders. Startled, she pulled it on and stepped out from behind the trees.She was indeed tall, with full breasts and a slender waist, possessing a pair of very long legs. Her facial features were sharply defined, slightly unlike those of the Central Plains people, yet she was strikingly beautiful, exuding an extraordinary charm. If a hundred men were to see her in this world, ninety-nine would likely throw themselves at her, while the remaining one would either be old, sick, or disabled—or a freak like Tang Lizhen.
He looked at this woman of unknown origin without any expression on his face. Under normal circumstances, he might have smiled at her, but at this moment, he had no mood for pretense.
He didn’t even want to spare her another glance or exchange another word with her.
Yet he knew exactly who she was—the very woman Bao Bao desired to possess, the one named Luo Wen.
She was indeed a rare beauty.
But in his life, he had seen many beauties. Though Luo Wen was stunning, she was merely one among countless others.
"Thank you for this clothing," the long-legged, slender-waited beauty said, her face filled with terror that clashed starkly with her lovely figure and appearance. "I... I truly don’t know how to thank you..."
Tang Lizhen glanced at her, then walked past as if she were invisible.
"W-wait! You... you are..." The woman chased after him. "Tang? Lazarus? Oh my God! Lazarus?"
Tang Lizhen ignored her, acting as though the name Lazarus had nothing to do with him, as if they had never met.
The woman behind him grabbed his hand, crying out, "Lazarus, I’m Luo Wen! Don’t you remember? I’m Selin’s good friend—"
"Have I ever told you—" Tang Lizhen let her hold his hand, then suddenly spoke softly, "—how much I despise women with foreign names?" Selin’s good friend? Selin had as many good friends as she had past lovers. He never concerned himself with her private affairs—how could he possibly remember who her friends were?
Luo Wen froze. Tang Lizhen turned his head and stared coldly at her, his gaze as icy as a serpent’s. "If you don’t let go, I’ll tear your clothes off and throw you into a wilderness ten times more desolate than this place."
Luo Wen instinctively released his hand and took a step back, but then she screamed and clutched his sleeve again. "Lazarus! No, no, you can’t abandon me! You don’t know what’s happened to me! You don’t know what’s happened to Selin! She and I were investigating your disappearance, and we went into the burning site where you vanished—then we fell through the flames! Two years! It’s been two whole years! You have no idea what kind of life I’ve been living! I was sold to bandits, then taken here by force, I... I can’t go on like this! Lazarus, Lazarus, save me! Save me! I want to go home! Take me with you! Take me with you!" She clung to Tang Lizhen desperately. "God has seen me, Buddha has seen me—I’ve prayed every day, and now I’ve finally met you. This is fate! You must save me! You have to save me!""Cough... cough..." Tang Licheng was shaken by her, coughing lightly a few times. "You and Selin—have been here for two years?" Hearing this, he was indeed somewhat surprised. He hadn’t expected the consequences of that night to drag in others beyond himself. Could that boundary gate have remained open all this time?
"Two years... For these two years, I thought I was trapped in a nightmare. If it weren’t for Selin loving you so much—if she weren’t so desperate to find you, so unwilling to believe you were dead—we would never have come to this place." Luo Wen clutched Tang Licheng tightly. "She loves you too much! She wanted to find you so badly. You can’t imagine how a woman like her managed to locate that burning site. She even concluded you weren’t dead. She tested every remnant at the scene, offered rewards everywhere like a madwoman searching for you... You can’t treat us like this. She loves you so much, we’ve sacrificed so much for you—how can you just leave me behind? How can you pretend not to know me? Oh God—oh God—"
He thought he wouldn’t be shaken, yet he trembled slightly. The wailing of this woman, the heart-wrenching screams... No matter how shallow she might be, the pain in her voice was undeniably real.
It made him vividly recall his own early days here, remember how Fang Zhou had died, remember how he had once craved wealth and power yet been utterly powerless...
He glanced at Luo Wen, her long nails digging deep into his skin. "Save me, take me with you, I’ll be grateful—I’ll worship you as my god, I’ll be your maid, your cat, your dog... Save me..."
"Luo Wen..." His voice finally emerged, slightly hoarse. "Stand up."
Luo Wen stood immediately, more obedient than a tamed dog.
He gently touched her tangled hair—once a head of honey-colored curls that would have charmed most men in the world, now just a mess of knots. "Stop crying. I’ll save you. I’ll send you home."
Luo Wen’s tears burst forth instantly. He saw it clearly—how someone could cry so genuinely, so purposelessly. "What about Selin?"
"She’s still in the village... locked in a doghouse because she refused to sleep with that beast..." Luo Wen trembled violently. "You’ll save her too, won’t you? You’ll save her—she loves you so much, she’s gone mad loving you..."
"I will." He ruffled her tangled hair again. "Don’t cry. Don’t be afraid."
"Lazarus..." Luo Wen sobbed. "I’m sorry... I used to think you were a cold person, that you never cared about others. Selin loved you unconditionally, and I even told her to forget you... I called you a monster..." She gripped Tang Licheng’s sleeve. "I didn’t know you could be so gentle..."
Gentle?
He smiled. Gentle... so easy. Stroking a woman’s head, saying what she wanted to hear... Just like how he had played the savior moments ago, earning the gratitude of an entire town with minimal effort.
But why did this gratitude no longer satisfy him? He was beginning to understand—what he truly craved, what could sustain him, wasn’t the role of a god who could effortlessly receive hymns of praise.God... full of controversy, omnipotent yet lonely, understood by none.
What does it matter to have countless worshippers? He wanted a woman to willingly die for him, but when she truly did, he felt no joy as he had imagined—only... his entire soul... trembling in fear.
"Don't cry," he said softly again, his tone a stark contrast to his earlier indifference. "Don't cry."
Luo Wen sobbed uncontrollably, prostrate on the ground, while he stood there, slowly stroking her head. At this moment, he was Luo Wen's god.
After a long while, Luo Wen gradually stopped crying and choked out, "Selin is in the cave on the back mountain. We must hurry and save her."
He smiled faintly, as was his habit, and withdrew his hand from her head. "Don't call me Lazarus. Call me Tang Lici."
"Lici?" Luo Wen was stunned. "Is that your name?"
"Yes," he replied gently. "I hate foreign names."
Luo Wen blinked her eyes, looking at him in confusion. He disliked foreign names, but he had always been with Selin. Could it be that he had never told Selin he didn’t like her name? If he had, Selin would have changed it immediately. Her eyes darted around before she suddenly gasped, "You're hurt! How did this happen? Does it hurt?"
After Tang Lici removed his outer robe, the bandages wrapped around his shoulder and arm were visible through the inner garment, stained with blood. He smiled at her again. "It doesn’t hurt."
How could it not hurt? Luo Wen stared fearfully at the bandages on his body. "With these injuries, can you still save Selin?"
"I can," he said softly, instinctively smiling once more.
Luo Wen’s gaze grew even more reverent and cautious. He used to like such looks, but now they only left him feeling indifferent.
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