A slightly staggering figure returned as quietly as it had left, moving in a hazy silence, as if only a shadow had drifted by. Zhong Chunji stood up gently, while Chi Yun’s eyes snapped open—he hadn’t heard Tang Lici’s footsteps, but he did hear Zhong Chunji rising.
“You… didn’t sleep all night?” She softly approached Tang Lici. “Did you find him?”
The blood and grime on Tang Lici’s face had been wiped away, his wounds bandaged, and his tattered clothes discarded. Clearly, throughout the night, he had not only searched every room and mechanism within the Dissolute Shop but also tended to his injuries. Seeing Zhong Chunji approach, he seemed surprised. “No…” Before he could finish, Zhong Chunji suddenly closed the distance and threw herself into his arms. Caught off guard, Tang Lici instinctively raised his right hand—had this been an enemy, he would have had dozens of ways to snap their neck in an instant. But this was Xue Xianzi’s beloved disciple, a young girl who had never done a single wrong in her life. Suppressing his lethal reflex, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his back. With a sweep of his arm, he flung Zhong Chunji away, his lips parting in a faint smile. “You—”
With a loud thud, Zhong Chunji was thrown ten paces away, landing hard on the ground. Though unharmed, she winced in pain. As she scrambled to her feet, tears welled in her eyes. She cast a heartbroken glance at Tang Lici before turning and fleeing. Chi Yun leapt up, his expression darkening. “That damned woman! She’s lost her mind! Young Master—”
A needle had struck Tang Lici’s vital acupoint on his back, causing his Inner Energy to surge wildly on the verge of collapse. With a roar, he channeled his entire lifetime’s True Power into his palms and thrust them toward the earthen wall before him. Chi Yun dodged aside, while Shen Langhun’s eyes snapped open in shock. A deafening explosion followed—the wall shattered, rocks and debris flying as dust billowed violently. Sunlight streamed in through the gaping hole where the wall had once stood.
Beyond the doorway lay a sunlit expanse, fresh air rushing in. Exhausted, Tang Lici stumbled forward, but Chi Yun and Shen Langhun caught him. The three looked up to behold a strange yet radiant landscape outside—ground covered in pale white sand and stones, overgrown with dark crimson vines that bore snow-white blossoms. The flowers blended so seamlessly with the sand that it was impossible to distinguish one from the other. Perhaps in this world, there was no difference between blossoms and rubble—beauty and ugliness, purity and filth, were but shackles and illusions.
“An exit?” Chi Yun was momentarily stunned, forgetting Zhong Chunji’s sudden attack and the reason behind her needle strike. The bizarre scenery outside the cave instantly captivated his gaze.
“Bodhi Valley…” Tang Lici struggled free. Amid the white sand and crimson vines, he spotted a gravestone. Chi Yun and Shen Langhun, unprepared for his strength even after his energy dispersal, watched as he staggered forward, leaving bloody footprints on the pale sand—footprints unseen in the darkness below but now starkly visible. He reached the gravestone in a few unsteady steps.
The inscription read: “Here lies Liao Wenqi, our ancestor.”Tang Lici fell to his knees with a thud before the grave. His face, usually adorned only with a smile, was now filled with disappointment. He rarely—extremely rarely—let his true emotions show on his face. But at this moment, the disappointment was so simple and pure, so unadorned that it was the expression of a child, one who didn’t know how to conceal any emotion... disappointment.
Beneath the layers of pretense, beneath the schemes and strategies, beneath the wealth and fame, beneath the cunning and ruthlessness—at this moment, Tang Lici was nothing more than a very willful, very disappointed child who desperately wanted to cry.
Chi Yun walked softly to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Young Master."
"Hmm? What is it?" Tang Lici looked up, his face instantly wearing a smile, his tone gentle and composed, no different from usual.
As if the person who had just collapsed before the grave, nearly in tears, wasn’t him at all—as if it had merely been a fleeting illusion in Chi Yun’s eyes.
Chi Yun stared blankly at his smile, momentarily at a loss for words.
Shen Langhun stood to the side, silent.
Tang Lici slowly rose to his feet. Under the sharp morning sunlight, the blood from last night on his freshly changed clothes had already dried, forming mottled, winding patterns. The fresh blood seeping out this morning slowly spread along the edges of those patterns, like blooming flowers thirsty for blood. Looking around, the valley of white sand and stones held... many more graves. As he walked toward the nearest one, he murmured softly, "Chi Yun, have you ever... felt the loss of someone forever?"
Chi Yun gaped, struggling for a long moment before forcing out, "No." Tang Lici staggered forward, the wound on his back from the needle strike continuously oozing blood, as if a red flower were gradually blooming there. He murmured, "Actually... on the day he died, even though I dug out his heart... I didn’t feel anything inside... I didn’t know how to grieve... I couldn’t feel it at all... what death truly means..."
Shen Langhun silently watched his retreating figure. In his ears, he faintly heard the sound of his wife plunging into the Yellow River, while he, his acupoints struck, could only watch helplessly as she sank beneath the waves. The agony of that moment... was enough to make him hover between life and death ten times over. And the most painful part was that, in the end, he hadn’t died."I never felt like he was truly gone. Everything was just as usual, only missing one person. When living in Zhou Dilou, I’d only remember he was dead when I couldn’t find something, so I could never ask where he had put it. Sometimes, seeing the flowers he planted, I’d think he’d never see them bloom. Sometimes… untying a knot he’d tied, I’d realize once undone, it could never be redone… Much later, I began to regret—not that I made him practice the Rebirth Scroll or the Skill Exchange Great Art, but that until his last moment, I never… truly spoke to him properly. All the words, whether they should’ve been said or not, should’ve been spoken then. I knew he wanted to hear them… wanted to know what was in my heart. But I… said nothing." Tang Lici murmured, "In my heart, I wanted to save him, but I never told him… Then day by day, year by year… every year I’d remember things left unsaid, remember how much more I could’ve done for him. Why didn’t I do it then? But no matter what I think now, he’ll never know… and he’ll never return."
Chi Yun listened silently. A thought stirred vaguely in his heart, something indistinct yet akin to what Tang Lici described, making his nose sting with the urge to cry.
"Two years later, I finally understood… this feeling is death," Tang Lici said softly. "He died, vanished like smoke. Every trace he left—a piece of clothing, a line of writing, a tied knot… all became ‘death.’ But…" His voice lowered, "But someone like Fang Zhou… how could he die like this? His ambitions unfulfilled, the plans we made together, the bright future we envisioned… I promised him I’d never betray a friend, promised him and A-Yan I’d turn from evil and become a good man. None of it… came to pass."
Where he walked, bloody footprints marked his path, yet Tang Lici pressed on without pause, heading straight for the second grave. "When he died, I said nothing, and neither did he. I don’t know if he blamed me in his heart, if he was disappointed yet stayed silent, indulging me as he always had…" His voice faltered, his steps halting. For the first time, Chi Yun saw a glimmer of light rise in Tang Lici’s eyes as he whispered, "I… I…" After a long pause, he continued, "I don’t know if he was ever disappointed. The truth is… I cared deeply for my friends. I never wanted him to die…"
By then, the second tombstone stood before them, the name inscribed still not Fang Zhou’s. Tang Lici turned toward the third grave. Though his body bore burns and snake bites, his power scattered, his steps never ceased—like Kuafu chasing the sun, forever… unyielding."Let's search. Since the Ice Coffin underground is fake, perhaps Liu Yan buried the real Ice Coffin together with Fang Zhou. Once we find the tomb and dig him out, you can return his heart, and he can be revived." Shen Langhun finally spoke calmly. Chi Yun let out a long sigh. "Right, since the Ice Coffin hasn't been found yet, there's still hope."
Tang Lici walked toward the third grave without looking back, chuckling softly. "You're so kind."
Chi Yun and Shen Langhun exchanged glances. They now understood why Zhong Chunji had stabbed Tang Lici with that needle—because without completely stripping him of his abilities, this man would never give up on anything, any hope, any possibility... The result would most likely be death... He would dig up every grave in Bodhi Valley, raze Piaoling Mei Yuan to the ground, and continue until he died.
A maddening temperament, childish fantasies, stubborn self-will, and unreasonable persistence...
"If Fang Zhou wakes up, I'll have him play the qin for you. His playing... truly is the best in the world..." As Tang Lici walked toward the third grave, a faint smile gradually appeared on his face. "If he wakes up, A-Yan won't hate me anymore. I'll tell Fang Zhou I was trying to save him, and he'll tell A-Yan I didn't kill our brother. Then... we'll still be brothers, and I... will apologize for what happened before."
The third grave still did not bear Fang Zhou's name.
Staggering, Tang Lici moved toward the fourth grave. There were thirty-six graves in this valley.
He could still hope thirty-three more times.
"Wild geese fly east, where purple clouds scatter, who waits where, for whose return?
A dream in red robes, how much sorrow in fleeting dreams, wine dissolves the clouds with a single laugh.
When will you return, to the bamboo-shaded haven, waiting to hear your voice, asking of your hardships.
Pale smoke curls, how many beauties forsaken, where are the long pavilions of lament..."
At some point, Tang Lici began softly singing an unknown song. The deep, resonant voice lingered throughout Bodhi Valley, each word piercing deep into the heart like clouds rising over mountains, mist rippling across water. It wasn't just hearts that trembled—the entire valley seemed to shift with the song, its very atmosphere transforming. Chi Yun and Shen Langhun listened, entranced. The bitterness and sorrow that had welled up in their hearts slowly dissolved into the low melody. Grief, joy, nostalgia, longing, pain, regret, loneliness... all these emotions gradually merged into one—the sorrowful anticipation woven into the song.
"Last night's farewell, meeting you was fate, how much time wasted, how much remains now?
Frost after white dew, phoenix perches on old autumn trees, a pearl in dust is still a pearl..."
This was the first time anyone had heard Tang Lici sing. No one knew he could sing. The plants and trees of Bodhi Valley rustled, the wind swayed the trees, and even the sunlight seemed to pale. The only thing stirring in the wind was that song—the only living thing in the valley was that song.
The seventeenth grave.
"Tomb of Brother Fang Zhou."
(End of Part One) ^_^
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