"What do you think?" Tang Lici opened his eyes and spoke softly. The moment his eyes opened, he sat up, his right hand gripping the black-clad man's pulse point while his left hand stretched out five fingers to cover the man's face. "Should I stuff all those little insects from earlier into your mouth? Or should I just plunge these five fingers into your face and pull out your eyes, nose, mouth, teeth, and eyebrows one by one? Or perhaps—" His fingers slowly trailed down from the man's face, five delicate fingertips gliding from the throat to the chest, "or perhaps—" Before he could finish his sentence, the black-clad man cried out in despair, "What do you want?""I never really wanted anything," Tang Lici said softly. "Senior Pu Kui Sheng, do you know how long I've been waiting for this day?" The black-clad man had yet to remove his veil, but hearing his identity exposed, he was even more horrified. "You—" Tang Lici continued, "Me what? How did I know it was you, is that it?" With a tug of his right hand, Pu Kui Sheng fell to his knees before his bed with a thud. Tang Lici gently patted the top of his head with his left hand. "On the night the Dissolute Shop attacked Good Cloud Mountain, who could have poisoned the well? First, that person had to be at the Hall of Sharp Virtue that night. Second, they had to understand poisons. Third, they had to possess formidable martial skills—because the brilliantly cunning poisoner used yin-cold internal force to freeze water into ice, encapsulating the water-soluble poison within the ice before tossing it into the well. This created the illusion that no one was near the well when the ice melted and the poison emerged. But this person wasn’t all that clever, after all. It was midsummer—how many people in the Hall of Sharp Virtue that night could have done such a thing? And how many among them were true experts in poisons? So, Senior Pu, you naturally became a prime suspect."
Pu Kui Sheng was speechless. "You—" Tang Lici’s soft palm lightly tapped the back of his neck again. "Me what? Ah... Given my temperament, even the slightest suspicion would be enough for me to kill without hesitation, to snap necks as needed... But after all, I’m playing the 'good person' now... After the battle, you took in the snakes that should have been under the Dissolute Shop’s control—yet those snakes were far too docile toward you. That alone was too obvious. So I suspect your master couldn’t have been too pleased with your actions, forcing you to find another way to prove your worth—hence why you sent someone to release venomous insects in an attempt to kill me..." He let out a soft laugh. "If I were your master, I’d have slapped you so hard your teeth would scatter across the floor. If Tang Lici were so easy to kill, why would your master go to such lengths to infiltrate the Central Plains Sword Association? Why not just cover his face with a black cloth like you, barge into my room, and kill me? His infiltration is so masterful, yet he has subordinates like you embarrassing him—truly pitiable."
At this, Pu Kui Sheng sneered. "Nonsense! My master is thousands of miles away. I thought you really had foresight, but it turns out you’re just guessing wildly. Within the Central Plains Sword Association, only Jiang Wenbo and I took the Ape-Demon Nine Heart Pill, forcing us to obey the Dissolute Shop. There is no other master—ridiculous!"
Tang Lici tapped the back of his head. "Fool!" Then, he gently blew a breath against Pu Kui Sheng’s neck. Pu Kui Sheng felt a soft warmth there, sending chills down his spine, as Tang Lici murmured, "Your ignorance proves your master doesn’t care whether you live or die, whether you’re exposed or not. He won’t save you—because he has no reason to protect you."Pu Kui Sheng was drenched in cold sweat. Tang Lici smiled at him pleasantly, releasing his wrist before resting his chin on curled fingers. "I won't kill you—your master still awaits your report of my near-fatal injury. Then you'll be discovered, and only then can you die..." Pu Kui Sheng's face turned ashen. "I... I..." Tang Lici spoke softly, "Even if Shao Yanping doesn't expose you, your brilliant master will. This is all just a game, and you, esteemed elder... are merely a doomed pawn. Everyone plays their part, treating you as nothing more than a dog."
Suddenly, Pu Kui Sheng dropped to his knees with a thud before the bed. "Young master, save me! Save me! I don’t want to die... I was forced by the poison, I never wanted this in my heart..." Tang Lici tapped his own nose with a fingertip and said slowly, "You... sought the most venomous poison in the world to take my life, and now you beg me to save yours?"
Kneeling on the floor, the moonlight grew brighter, casting his shadow in stark darkness. After a long pause, he let out a desperate cry and bolted from the room.
The chamber was bathed in moonlight, the dark corners still pitch black. The moment Pu Kui Sheng fled, a cold voice spoke from the shadows, "So words truly can kill. I never believed it before." The speaker descended lightly from the rafters without a sound—it was Cheng Yunpao. Tang Lici's red lips curved slightly. "What brings you here?" Cheng Yunpao hesitated. "I..." Tang Lici's dark, glistening eyes flicked toward him. "Figured out why I wasn’t poisoned?" Cheng Yunpao took a deep breath. "Indeed. You channeled your energy into the bedding, making it difficult for the poison to penetrate. Moreover, the newborn larvae couldn’t withstand the scorching yang energy—lingering too long on the sheets, they overheated and died." Tang Lici smiled faintly. "Not just died—they were incinerated to ash."
Cheng Yunpao nodded. "Such formidable yang force. How are your injuries?" Tang Lici didn’t answer immediately. After a moment, he chuckled softly. "No matter how injured I am, as long as it’s not fatal, I won’t die." Cheng Yunpao’s gaze swept over him. "You seem naturally immune to all poisons." Tang Lici replied, "Do you regret not sharing that immunity?" Cheng Yunpao was taken aback. "Why would I?" Tang Lici’s gaze drifted past his face, carrying an unspoken implication Cheng Yunpao couldn’t decipher. Just as he grew puzzled, Tang Lici smiled again. "The night is deep, Cheng Daxia. You should rest early. I’m tired as well."
Cheng Yunpao had come as a hidden guard. Seeing Tang Lici unharmed, he nodded and left with his sword.
In the darkness, Tang Lici slowly lay back down. Ha... immune to all poisons... That fact had once grieved him deeply. But now, for the first time, he felt something akin to relief—as if he had nearly forgotten the days he despised himself for being a monster. Long-buried memories surged vividly to the surface, unrestrained currents stirring in his heart. He sat up abruptly.
Hanging on the wall was a pipa, placed there by Shao Yanping specifically to counter Liu Yan’s Black Pipa. Now, Tang Lici cradled it in his arms. His fingers plucked the strings, and deep, resonant notes rose like a tide, flooding the Hall of Sharp Virtue.A Shui was holding Feng Feng in her own room. Feng Feng was sucking her fingers, nearly asleep. She had just finished folding the clothes they would take tomorrow and was about to go to bed when suddenly, the sound of a plucked string surged through her mind like a hidden tide. She turned abruptly, her thoughts blank for a moment, staring vacantly in the direction of the sound.
Cheng Yunpao had not yet returned to his room, having intended to practice swordplay in the woods. Suddenly, he heard the sound of a plucked string—neither pleasant nor unpleasant—and slowed his steps, listening intently.
Shao Yanping was still in his study, troubled over what to do with the white-clad women who had no one to claim them. At the sound of the string, he looked up, filled with surprise. On the night the Dissolute Shop attacked, he had longed in vain for Tang Lici’s music—so why tonight…
Pu Zhu and Xifang Tao were still playing chess. At the sound, they exchanged a glance before lowering their heads to continue the game. Though nothing seemed to have changed, the atmosphere of quiet contemplation and serenity had completely shifted.
The entire Hall of Sharp Virtue seemed to fall silent, each person listening to the sound of the strings with their own thoughts.
“How… Who says I’ve changed so much lately? Honesty, in truth, is simple—it just hurts more the longer it lasts. Me… A wooden puppet placed on the altar in the city, so fake… it can’t fulfill any prayers. You say you’re as humble as a flower, blooming and withering without needing to tell anyone; you say though you bear no fruit, you still have hopes, still have dreams—isn’t that a life free from worry? Me… I’ve said nothing. Life is too long, life is too short—who can truly control another’s fate?” Tang Lici sang softly, so softly that only the lonely plucking of the pipa strings could be heard. “I’m not the Buddha on stage, saving all beings; I’m not the demon in the underworld, ensnaring souls. I sit amidst splendor, yet cannot rest; I calculate thousands of schemes, yet never outwit fate… A thousand mysteries in five fingers, how to go on when heaven and earth spin…” This song was from long, long ago—the first single released by the Copper Flute Band, and the only one they ever released. It was called Heart’s Demon .
A Shui listened quietly. She didn’t hear the lyrics, only the melancholic, tinkling melody that shifted from loneliness to fervent intensity, then abruptly dissolved into chaotic reverberations—like wind blowing through emptiness, like someone weeping silently against a wall, like a madman dancing wildly in the rain, like shattered wine glasses on the floor, mingled with liquor and tears in a desolate mess… She gasped sharply, her heart pounding like a drum. She opened her mouth but didn’t know what to say, covering it with her hand as tears she hadn’t shed in years spilled over. And yet… she still didn’t know why she was crying.
Was it simply because he played the pipa?
Cheng Yunpao stood in the woods. Though far from Tang Lici’s room, his sharp hearing caught every softly sung word. After listening, he felt both comprehension and confusion, wondering what these disjointed, cryptic lyrics meant. Yet hearing them didn’t irritate him. He took a step forward, spreading his fingers to study the lines on his palm. Years of life in the martial world flashed through his mind—a thousand mysteries in five fingers. What had he ever truly grasped? And what had he let go?Shao Yanping also heard the singing, his mouth agape for a long while, unable to close. He had once been a dashing youth, having witnessed countless songs and dances, invited the most renowned singers, and listened to the most enchanting voices. Yet, when Tang Lici sang softly while casually strumming the pipa, the sound was both mournful and frenzied, chaotic and out of tune, yet it stirred the soul. Lost in the music, Shao Yanping shook his head and let out a long sigh. The dust of years of toil pressing on his heart seemed to find a window, suddenly blown away by the wind. After exhaling, his smile faded, unsure of what to say.
Sometimes, when certain people remove their masks, they don’t know how to proceed. As for Tang Lici—was he wearing all sorts of bizarre masks, or had he never worn one at all?
Pu Zhu and Xifang Tao were still playing chess. When the pipa’s notes began, Xifang Tao held a chess piece between his fingers for a long time. Pu Zhu asked, “Why aren’t you moving?” Xifang Tao replied, “I’m overwhelmed with emotion. Didn’t the Venerable One feel anything after hearing the music?” Pu Zhu answered calmly, “If the heart is unmoved and the cicadas do not sing, naturally there is no attachment. Whether one listens or not, what difference does it make?” Xifang Tao sighed softly. “I lack the Venerable One’s composure. This melody stirs the soul and dampens my enthusiasm for chess.” Pu Zhu said, “Then set it aside and play again tomorrow.” Xifang Tao placed the white piece he was holding back on the board and nodded. Suddenly, he asked, “I’ve never asked before—why did the Venerable One, so young, choose to renounce the world?” Pu Zhu replied serenely, “I left home as a child. Age, whether young or old, is irrelevant.” Xifang Tao said, “I see. Since the Venerable One left home so young, why not observe the precepts?” Pu Zhu was famously known as “a monk who does not shave his head and disregards all five precepts,” making him an anomaly among the disciplined Shaolin disciples. “Precepts—if the heart is unattached, it matters not whether one observes them. Observing or not, both are acceptable,” Pu Zhu said indifferently. Xifang Tao’s bright eyes sparkled as he smiled. “But what about the world’s speculations and gossip? Does the Venerable One truly not care?” Pu Zhu replied, “It matters not. The Buddha is not in the Western Heaven but within the practice itself. Observing precepts is practice; not observing them is also practice.” Xifang Tao laughed charmingly. “What about marriage? Since the Venerable One does not observe precepts, have you ever considered marrying?” Pu Zhu lowered his eyelids, his expression solemn. “Marriage or no marriage—having such thoughts creates attachments, and attachments hinder sincere practice.” Xifang Tao smiled. “In other words, if the Venerable One had such thoughts, he would return to secular life?” Pu Zhu nodded. “Indeed.” Xifang Tao sighed. “As long as the Venerable One remains in the Buddhist order, such thoughts will never arise.” Pu Zhu pressed his palms together. “Amitabha.”
The long night was silent. The two friends chatted idly, devoid of the earlier joy of chess but enveloped in a different kind of tranquility.
The pipa’s music ceased, leaving the Hall of Sharp Virtue in profound silence. Tang Lici’s room remained unlit, but a light flickered on in another room—Yu Furen’s. He had shut himself inside for three nights and four days. Shao Yanping had arranged for meals to be delivered daily, but Yu Furen ignored them, keeping his eyes closed and starving himself. Fortunately, though he refused food, he drank wine—four or five jars over those three days. His tolerance was not high, and he spent his days in a drunken stupor, as if willing himself to drink to death. Shao Yanping had no time to deal with him, and the others had said all they could. Yet Yu Furen remained in a perpetual drunken haze, refusing to leave his room.Yet after the sound of the pipa faded, he lit the oil lamp and sat up from the bed where he had slept all day, staring blankly at his own hands. His hands trembled—it took him three attempts to light the lamp. After gazing at them for a while, he reached out to grasp Azure Jade resting on the table. The moment he gripped it, the sword creaked and trembled violently. With a clang, he threw Azure Jade away. The famed sword slid far across the floor and came to rest silently in the darkest shadow beneath the table. Yu Furen sat motionless at the table for a long time, staring at the neatly arranged but long-cold meal before him. Suddenly, he picked up his chopsticks and began eating voraciously.
As he ate, hot tears streamed down his face. He needed to go to Tang Lici’s room to check on him, then pull himself together, bring Yu Qifeng back, and leave the martial world behind—never to speak of swords again.
Tang Lici lay quietly in his room, the pipa still cradled in his arms, his fingers lingering on the strings. The quilt tainted by poisonous insects had been flung to the floor, and he had fallen into a deep sleep. After disturbing others’ rest with his unrestrained indulgence, he now slept soundly, indifferent to everything around him.
OpenNovel