Chapter 104

Chapter 104

Volcanic rage burst out. Nan Wuxie’s arm muscles bulged, the pressure from his fingers suddenly tightening. A gurgling sound came from Chu Qi’s throat, his face rapidly turning from red to purple.

“Kill… kill me…”

His dying eyes blazed with a fierce light, his broken, raspy voice rang out like a curse.

“Kill me… to prove that pathetic softness of yours… to prove you’re just as hypocritical as your father… to prove the Nan family… only produces… generation after generation of—losers…”

Losers.

Losers!!

As his broken accusation hung in the air, the word “losers” reverberated in his skull. Nan Wuxie’s grip suddenly went slack.

As if all his strength had been drained in an instant, his knee still pressed against Chu Qi’s chest, but he collapsed heavily to the ground.

Chu Qi doubled over violently, erupting in wrenching coughs. He choked up large mouthfuls of blood and saliva, his chin and the ground stained red, yet the mad smile on his face never faded—in fact, it grew even more intense.

Only when the coughing died down did he wipe the blood from his lips with the back of his hand, braced himself against the pillar behind him, and inch by inch, tried to sit up straight. His eerily bright eyes stayed locked on Nan Wuxie’s face.

“What’s wrong? *cough* Why’d you stop?” he panted, voice broken but laced with a strange delight. “My good Marquis… aren’t you the one who detests a scourge like me, who sees human life as dirt?”

Nan Wuxie sat on the ground, head bowed, his robes stained with dust and blood.

His violent aura seemed to have faded along with his now-slack hands, leaving only a profound weariness and an unreadable dark current churning in his eyes.

*I really want to kill him.*

A furious voice seemed to ring out around him:

“Kill him, Nan Wuxie! Kill him! He’s insane!”

But another voice followed, eerily calm, closing in:

“Nan Wuxie, can you truly change this world? Aren’t you afraid?”

Afraid—no, terrified.

Then his father’s voice suddenly called out softly:

“Yongci… Yongci, you’ve suffered, my boy.”

*Father…*

“Kill him, Nan Wuxie! You know the answer in your gut!!”

“You really gonna kill him? Think hard, Nan Wuxie.”

“Yongci, survive.”

“Go ahead, Nan Wuxie!”

“Be sure, Nan Wuxie.”

“Yongci! Yongci! YONGCI!!!”

*So… do I kill him?*

Nan Wuxie held his breath, trying to calm himself.

*‘There’s an answer in my heart? Where?’*

Heaven and earth push everyone to the edge, forcing snap decisions under insane time pressure. The heavens are stingy, giving barely any time to think; people’s choices are hasty, later met with criticism, doubt, even curses.

Yet the heavens are also generous, never dwelling on the past, endlessly hurling trials at the world again and again until people give their answers.

But the answer itself is not the final solution.

The trial is. The pain and struggle that people endure in their gut-wrenching agony—that is what matters.

So, kill him?

If I kill him, everything seems simple. This cancer wrecking the capital is removed; the Qianchen Pavilion falls apart. I can answer to the people, to the world, to my conscience. But then what? Would Chu Qi’s words forever pierce my heart like a poisonous thorn? Would they haunt me on endless sleepless nights, questioning whether I regret today’s choice?

For a long, long while, slow and silent, Nan Wuxie felt his heart hammering against his ribs.

“You deserve to die,” he tried to convince himself. “The blood on your hands… is no less than what stains this ground.”

Chu Qi laughed, the sound jarring his wounds, bringing up fresh blood. “So what, Nan Wuxie? Are you… judging me? With your precious ‘this I’ll do, this I won’t’ code?”

Ridiculous code?

What code?

Nan Wuxie sank deeper into this.

All these countless beings—perhaps they only sought to survive at first. But after long training and conditioning, they’d quietly gotten used to butchering anyone different. Thus, they ceased to unite. They began to stare at each other, to hunt, to fight.

This meant escalating conflict, the end of unified standards. Codes could no longer be defined. And heaven had taken away mankind’s precious gift—innocence.

If I don’t kill, I’ll get killed. In life-or-death struggles, it’s always safest to strike preemptively. This is human nature. Why rebel? Going against animal instinct just gets you labeled a freak, left to rot alone.

The trial continues. People still struggle bitterly, slaughtering one another. Where is the way out? Where is the answer? Where is the end?

Lost, helpless, suffocating.

I can’t find it. I can’t see it. They’re like a great mountain I cannot climb, whose summit I cannot behold.

Nan Wuxie tightly closed his eyes, his chest’s heart pounding wildly.

*‘You’re lying to me… There is no answer here.’*

No, Nan Wuxie, it’s not that complicated! When the mind is steady, a thousand difficulties can be broken. When the heart is calm, ten thousand phenomena become clear. Open your eyes, look straight at it. The answer is right before you. There is no high mountain before you. The moment you open your eyes is the answer.

When the insignificant being traverses all doubts, setbacks, temptations, solitude, pressure, and desires, and personally presents the answer—unknown to be right or wrong—the correct answer is born.

*Better to die holding fragrance on the branch than to be blown down in the north wind.* What is supreme is never the trials of fate, but the everlasting ideals of mankind. *

And you—simply walk straight ahead, let heaven and earth tremble.

*‘I walk straight…’*

*‘Is it heaven and earth that tremble?’*

Yes. So, do you see the answer now?

He slowly raised his eyes. The bloodshot streaks in his eyes remained, but the blazing, burning flame was gone without a trace.

Chu Qi tilted his head, a sardonic smile on his lips.

"Chu Qi," Nan Wuxie said, his voice hoarse, "you'll never understand."

"I won't understand?" Chu Qi replied. "Nan Wuxie, you pride yourself on holding to the 'righteous path,' yet your hands are also stained with blood, and you still insist on setting up a monument to your own virtue. If your father had been willing to tear off that disguise back then, why would you have let someone exploit your weakness? And now you hesitate—isn't it because you're afraid that future historians will record that Nan Wuxie was also a ruthless schemer who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals? What difference is there between you, me, and the rest of the world?"

Nan Wuxie clenched his hands into fists, the sharp pain of his nails digging into his palms barely holding back the impulse surging in his chest, ready to shatter everything.

It was that violent impulse, that most primitive and base beastly instinct.

He hated Chu Qi's venom and madness, yet he also realized with sorrow that, to some extent, they were both struggling in the same mire.

This was an eternal challenge for humanity. Overcome it, Nan Wuxie. Conquer it.

A long silence stretched between them, the air solidifying like iron, suffocating them. The wind swept through the empty courtyard, bearing the scent of blood and dust.

After a long while, Nan Wuxie pushed himself up from his knees and stood.

He didn't look at Chu Qi again. Instead, he turned his back on the man who lay sprawled in the bloodstains, still piercing him with a burning gaze.

His back was straight, as if bearing an immense burden.

"Chu Qi," his voice was calm, betraying no emotion, "your crimes are unforgivable."

With that, he took a step and began walking toward the gate of the manor, step by step.

The smile on Chu Qi's face froze, a flicker of shock in his eyes, followed by deeper madness and resentment.

"Nan Wuxie! You're just walking away?! Don't you even have the courage to kill me with your own hands?!"

The curses faded, and only the sound of Nan Wuxie's footsteps remained in the courtyard.

Five steps, seven steps, until the tenth step—the night sky outside the manor suddenly lit up!

Countless burning arrows, trailing crimson tails, filled the sky.

Like an inverted meteor shower, or a waterfall of fire poured down by an angry god.

They tore through the darkness, with piercing screeches, raining down from the heights around the manor toward the central courtyard in a cascade of fire.

The flames illuminated Nan Wuxie's crown, but he still did not turn back, nor did he stop.

The pool of blood on the ground reflected the torrent of fire above.

Chu Qi looked up, his pupils instantly flooded with blazing light.

What a magnificent, suffocating rain of death.

He grinned, savoring the beautiful tableau.

The flames soared into the sky, swiftly devouring everything.

The roar of the explosion, the crackling of the fire, and the crash of collapsing beams—in an instant, the courtyard that had just fallen silent was transformed into a searing, raging sea of flames.

Before the backdrop of this towering inferno, Nan Wuxie walked step by step toward the wide-open gate of the manor, toward the silent, solemn ranks of his subordinates outside, toward that long and arduous path of righteousness.

The burden was heavy and the road was long, but the value of staying true to one's original intention lies in firmly choosing to call the bet even when knowing the risk, regardless of life or death. Success is a path, and failure is also a path.

Nan Wuxie did not look back at the ally consumed by the flames. As he stepped over the threshold of the manor, the blazing fire that lit up half the sky was left behind. He closed his eyes for a moment, his Adam's apple moving slightly.

Then, all emotions were sealed away again in those unfathomable eyes, leaving no trace.

***

Wen Buchi had received rewards from Li Sheng, a room full of large boxes and small chests, all exquisitely decorated.

Such was the imperial favor and grace—it came abruptly, like a summer storm or a lady's moods, unpredictable and beyond question.

He stood in silence before the room full of imperial gifts when the sound of confident footsteps came from outside.

Nan Wuxie strode in without even knocking, his face sporting an expression that begged for praise as he crossed the threshold, only to be instantly stunned by the room full of boxes.

"Lord Wen is preparing his dowry?" he said. "Quite a spectacle."

Wen Buchi shot him a sidelong glance. "Just back from the palace."

Nan Wuxie paused briefly, then quickly put on a smile, sitting down leisurely opposite him.

"Apologizing to you?" he sneered lazily. "Can't even be bothered to keep up appearances. Seems like he's really afraid you'll hold a grudge, Lord Wen."

Wen Buchi naturally understood the implication and remained silent.

Nan Wuxie leaned forward, naturally taking the hand Wen Buchi had placed on the table, bringing it to his lips, coaxingly, he continued, "Does seeing them bother you?"

Wen Buchi paused, then nodded.

"That's easy," the smile in Nan Wuxie's eyes deepened, seizing the opportunity. "Move to my place. If you can't see them, you won't be troubled."

Wen Buchi finally condescended to glance at him again, a mischievous thought crossing his mind.

Maintaining his facade, he went along with the suggestion. "Fine."

"Really?" Nan Wuxie's eyes lit up, and he leaned forward again, almost crossing the small table between them. "A gentleman's word is as good as his bond. Lord Wen had better keep his promise."

Wen Buchi casually withdrew his hand, smoothing his sleeve. "Your residence is indeed more spacious than my humble abode. These imperial gifts piled up here make it inconvenient for me to move or sit. If Marquis Nan would be so generous as to help, it would be most welcome."

He paused, looking at Nan Wuxie's sparkling eyes, and continued, "I'll have my servants carry them all over to the Marquis's residence."

"?"

Nan Wuxie was taken aback, then he laughed.

"I meant for you to move there."

Wen Buchi didn't look at him, nor did he reply. Marquis Nan's burning sincerity was left dangling in the air.

But Nan Wuxie wasn't annoyed; he knew this man was intentionally playing hard to get. He pressed closer still. "Come on, Lord Wen, move to my place. This cramped little place of yours, you can't turn around without bumping into something. My place has so much more comfort and space!"

Seeing that the other man still ignored him, he continued coaxing, "Nannan talks about that every day—she wants to see her Uncle Wen all the time. Children are like that; once they take a liking to someone, they can't stand being apart for even a moment."

Wen Buchi finally deigned to glance at him again.

Nan Wuxie immediately broke into an ingratiating grin. "Her father is the same."

Wen Buchi nearly lost his composure.

"What? Is her father still a child?"

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Author's note: *"Rather die holding fragrance on the branch, how could it ever fall in the north wind?" From Zheng Sixiao's "Cold Chrysanthemum" of the Song Dynasty.