HCAW 126

Chapter 126: Fated Yet Never Meant in This Life

After the slaughter in the great hall began, Ah Que immediately made his way toward the Daiyu city’s gate. He saw jet-black waves from the Ming Sea surging on the horizon—Gu Bi Guard had dwelled in Daiyu for many years, long since corroding this land, his pawns spread across the entire Xian Mountain. That was why Fang Jingyu and Xiao Jiao had decided from the start to drown this place, leaving Gu Bi Guard no path to survival.

But just as Ah Que was about to depart, a shadow appeared at his side. The figure’s body was as rotten and soft as mud, a brightly colored treasure-bowl mask covering its face—it was Bi Bao Guard. Bi Bao Guard said to him, “Young man, wait a moment. His Highness is currently overwhelmed; there is one task I must entrust to you.”

“What is it?”

“Young man, you’ve grown used to us non-human beings these days—surely you won’t be startled. Just as ‘Great Immortal Yonghe’ draws his power from the Ming Sea—so long as the sea endures, his divine strength is inexhaustible—I suspect Gu Bi Guard also has a ‘source’.”

Aqie was confused. “‘Source’?”

“That’s what we call it. To ordinary folk, it’s like a heart. As for Gu Bi Guard, he must have a ‘heart,’ and I’ve faintly heard its heartbeat,” the old nun said, turning her face toward the ground beneath the hall. “It’s just below.”

“What’s down there?” Ah Que asked uneasily. The old nun replied, “That remains unknown—perhaps molten rock, a vein of the earth, or even a giant ao turtle. His Highness is now locked in battle with Gu Bi Guard and cannot spare the effort, so we must investigate. I would go alone, but the tunnels are marked with the Five Wards Guardian Spirit Formation, which just so happens to counteract the power of immortals. We need someone the formation cannot hinder.”

Bi Bao Guard glanced at Ah Que’s tense face. “Young man, I know it’s a tiger’s den down there—one false move and your life’s forfeit. That’s why I must thicken my skin and beg this favor. If you are unwilling, I will not force you.”

But Aqie shook his head. “So what if it’s a tiger’s den or a dragon’s lair? I nearly walked the path to the underworld! Since His Highness once saved my life, I’ll risk fire and boiling water for him!”

So, after a while, they found themselves standing before the bloody corpse of Fatty Ji, staring at each other.

Ah Que had entered the dungeon earlier, hiding in wait, and stabbed Fatty Ji through the chest with trembling hands. “Well, well—no molten rocks, no earth veins, no giant ao turtle, but a fat pig!”

Bi Bao Guard praised him: “Well done, young man. With this Five Wards Guardian Spirit Formation, if you hadn’t acted, that fat morsel would have slipped away from under our noses.”

“Gu Bi Guard is just like you all—a nine-tentacled octopus, right? Why doesn’t the formation work on him?”

“It does, but only half as much, since he was originally human. Besides, he never comes down here, so he dared to set up the formation.”

Ah Que bent down, sword in hand, and cut three wounds into Fatty Ji’s body, reaching inside to search. Sure enough, nestled between each side of Fatty Ji’s ribs was a heart. One of them was pitch-black, pulsing ominously like a spider lurking within. Ah Que stabbed it through with his sword. Instantly, the ground shook, and a piercing wail split the heavens.

The tremor lasted for ages. When all stilled, they were left reeling and dizzy. Ah Que scrambled up, drew a small bottle from his sleeve, and gathered the black blood that flowed from the heart.

“Elder, is this Gu Bi Guard’s blood?”

The old nun, dark as mud, nodded. “To unlock the blood-bait lock and open the gate to Guixu, nothing else will do. With an iron sword alone, you can’t kill him; you must wait until the Ming Sea floods this place. Let’s go join His Highness.”

Ah Que tore a strip from his robe, wrapped the blood vial carefully, and tucked it away. Yet as soon as he emerged from the tunnels, he was shocked to find the area outside packed with walking corpses under Gu Bi Guard’s control—crowds upon crowds. Ordinary swords could not destroy the heart, and Gu Bi Guard’s power remained, allowing him to command his forces.

“M-My Lady, I’m no prince—I can’t take on thousands alone…” Ah Que stammered.

Before he finished, a black shadow shot out by his side. At the same moment, countless thorn-like tentacles erupted from the earth, impaling the walking corpses. It was the Yuanqiao monks, bursting from the ground, their tentacles as sharp as blades, skewering the enemy. Overjoyed, Ah Que rushed to the stables, untied a horse, and mounted up, galloping toward the gate.

All the way, he fought and slashed, yet grew ever more exhausted. In the distance, the Daiyu city’s gate loomed—on the ramparts, catapults hurled rocks like rain, smoke and battle cries filled the sky, armored cavalry clashed with iron halberds, and shouts shook the heavens, a tidal wave bearing down on him. And now, the waters of the Ming Sea had risen to his horse’s knees, while the Yuanqiao monks around him grew fewer and fewer.

Bi Bao Guard’s voice grew faint in his ears: “Young man, the Great Immortal has poured all his strength into flooding the Xian Mountain—we too are likely to perish here.”

Ah Que gritted his teeth. “No matter—I’m still here! Even if it costs me my life, I’ll deliver the blood vial to the gate!”

In an instant, he suddenly saw the armored cavalry spread out into the Encircling Wei (a river) Formation, surrounding him like an iron cage. Steel spears thrust in unison, crossbows fired in rapid succession, and the monks of Yuanqiao who had been blocking his way collapsed with wretched cries. The Daiyu cavalry swarmed forward, stabbing horse flanks and slashing horse legs. Ah Que was thrown from his horse and quickly surrounded, unable to move an inch.

Countless fire lances aimed at him, shards of porcelain and iron shot whistled through the air like rain. Even with the Yuanqiao monks’ desperate protection, Ah Que was struck several times, his body bleeding. Sword in hand, he fought furiously, stabbing through the chests of several cavalrymen, roaring, “Come on, you pack of fiends! You dare block my way?”

Suddenly, a burning pain tore through his leg as if pierced by a viper’s fang—he looked down to see his calf shredded by shrapnel. He stumbled and fell. A Xian Mountain officier swung a sword at his head, but at that moment, a jet-black tentacle shot from the earth, piercing the man’s wrist!

Ah Que seized the chance, leaping up to cut off the man’s head. The tentacle flopped weakly to the ground—Ah Que picked it up, hearing Bi Bao Guard’s faint voice: “Young man, go…”

Ah Que nodded, but a fresh wave of pain in his leg made him gasp, shaking his resolve. Armored soldiers surged forward, swords and lances glinting coldly. Ah Que gritted his teeth and whispered, “Bi Bao Guard, I beg you—lend me your strength… let me merge with you…”

Bi Bao Guard seemed taken aback and did not speak for a moment. Ah Que picked up the tentacle and said, “What should I do? If I swallow your flesh and blood, will my strength increase?”

“Young man, don’t be reckless!” Bi Bao Guard’s voice was rare in its urgency. “You are a mortal… You cannot withstand the Great Immortal Yonghe’s power. If you try to ‘fuse’ with me… you might end up like those walking corpses, losing your mind and your human form forever!”

Ah Que blocked a downward sword strike with all his might and said, “Isn’t His Highness also a mortal? He’s already led the charge himself—how could I shrink back now? Besides, the situation is dire. If I don’t borrow your strength, I might not even live to reach the city gate!”

Bi Bao Guard was silent for a moment. “Are you truly without regret?”

“None at all!” Ah Que answered resolutely.

In the next instant, hundreds of tentacles rose from the earth, wrapping around him like a cocoon. The tentacles gently lifted his chin and burrowed into his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. Ah Que felt the slippery touch, then a burning, searing pain as though his skin was hammered and split, thorns coursing through his blood. In that moment, he suddenly understood why Bi Bao Guard had warned him, and what kind of soul-burning agony Fang Jingyu had endured just to reach the great hall.

“Young man, if you cannot endure, I will withdraw from your body immediately.” Bi Bao Guard’s worried voice sounded in his ear, clearer than ever.

Ah Que raised his head; his eyes had turned pitch black, and muddy blood oozed from his features.

“This little pain is nothing compared to a hundredth of what His Highness endured,” he said, voice trembling. Gripping his sword, he said, “Let’s go—let’s get to the gate!”

After consuming Bi Bao Guard’s flesh and blood, his senses became preternaturally keen; he could see the gaps between every piece of his enemies’ armor. The human body has thirty-six death points, nine of them most fatal. He thrust his sword, striking at Tanzhong, Jiuwi, Juque—every thrust brought back blood.

Though he felt like oil over a roaring fire, suffering unbearable torment, Ah Que cut through the enemy as if no one could stop him, striking left and right, felling foe after foe.

He remembered his childhood: the cold, drafty home where he was looked down upon, bullied by the children in the lanes. The scrawny boy, surrounded and shivering, had a dead yellow puppy—a friend he’d cared for—thrown in front of him. The children, blood-stained sticks in hand, mocked, “Little dog-bones, your dog barked at us, so we taught it a lesson—and it died!” Then blows rained down, and he could only curl up like a frightened turtle. The children laughed sharply, delighting in his misery.

Scenes flashed before his eyes like lantern slides. He saw himself huddled on a pirate ship, his mother’s head hanging from the prow, his tears flowing in terror and silence. The pirates jeered and kicked him: “What a useless brat, can’t even scrape up a coin, all you do is soil your pants!”

He saw the years after, finally joining the Lei Ze Camp, working as a lowly rower, laboring every day until he followed Fang Jingyu out beyond the gate, scattered by wind and waves, and captured, thrown into Daiyu’s dungeon. He saw his comrades executed, one after another, powerless to save them.

Now, with a wild thrust of his sword, he shattered those memories. The children scattered like birds and beasts; the pirates were cut in half; the heads of Daiyu’s officiers rolled like gourds. The Great Immortal Yonghe’s divine power flowed through him like sweet spring water. Sword rose, sword fell, and blood blossomed.

He felt his flesh sloughing off, revealing bone, as if a thousand arrows struck him, or he’d plunged into a boiling cauldron. Yet he clenched his teeth and endured the inhuman pain. For he knew—this might be his last moment alive, and even the agony of fire and boiling oil was better than the endless sleep of death.

Bi Bai Guard’s faint sigh sounded in his mind, like a passing breeze: “That’s enough, young man.”

But Ah Que, bleeding all over, threw back his head and roared, “No, it’s not enough—not until I reach the Daiyu’s gate!”

Dying hands reached out from the black waves, clutching his clothes; Ah Que spun, hacking them away, pressing ever onward. Flying darts swarmed, piercing him through and through. He had always hidden behind others, but now, at last, he was burning himself up, shining with light and heat one final time.

The soldiers rushed in, their iron armor—each piece weighing over a hundred pounds—slammed down on him. Ah Que spat out blood and pieces of viscera. He was like an ant bearing a mountain, dragging a mass of soldiers forward.

At last, he leaned on his sword, standing before the gate.

By now, the hand that gripped his sword was bare bone, blood covering his whole body. Only the front of his shirt was untouched—because there, next to his chest, he had kept the vial of Gu Bi Guard’s blood safe at all costs. The waters of the Ming Sea had risen to his waist; the heavens were vast and bleak, the dark sea boundless, and a white sun hung in a sky of blood-red clouds. Behind him, a blood-red ribbon streamed through the water, corpses floating upon it like a bridge.

The city walls of Daiyu loomed high. Ah Que stumbled; the shadows of the walls flowed over him like water, covering him in an instant. Two stone statues stood tall, guarding a massive stone gate. One wore scaled silver armor, radiant and heroic; the other, a silver demon mask and a sword at the waist—clearly Emperor Bai and Tianfu Guard.

Wind gusted through the crack in the gate—frigid, like a blade from a bitter hell. Beneath the colossal doors, a man was as small as a black colt.

“Elder… is this…” Ah Que said haltingly, coughing blood.

Bi Bao Guard answered in his mind, tone mournful: “This is the taoyuan stone gate leading to Guixu.”

The stone gate loomed, black and solid, ten zhang tall and two wide. ah Que pressed his palm against it—it was cold as frost, and he could faintly hear the howling of wind and snow outside. Above the gate hung a horizontal stone, with eleven bone locks dangling from it, each covered in a thin layer of frost, sealed for many years.

Aqie gasped, “So this is…the blood-bait lock.”

“Yes. Once His Highness arrives, just smear the blood from the vial onto it and the gate will open.”

With trembling hands, Ah Que took out the vial. Bi Bao Guard said, “From left to right, the third lock is Gu Bi Guard’s. In years past, His Majesty taught us to break the bones first, then, with the Immortal Elixir, restore the flesh—the bones were made into these locks.” Ah Que wiped away the frost, uncorked the vial, poured some blood into his palm, and smeared it onto the lock. With a crisp click, the bone lock fell away.

Relieved, Ah Que slumped against the gate, ready to slide down, when Bi Bao Guard said, “And my blood too—please use it as well.” From the depths of the Ming Sea came the sound of thick bubbles. A feeble tentacle emerged, holding a pitch-black heart, still oozing blood, offering it to Ah Que.

Ah Que was stunned. Bi Bao Guard said, “I have waited hundreds of years for this moment. Once the lock is opened, I won’t last much longer. From here on, the path will be up to His Highness.”

Ah Que took the heart—the proof that Bi Bao Guard had once been mortal. He carefully dipped blood from it and unlocked the blood-bait lock. When all was done, he slumped by the gate, smiling weakly. “Does this mean, elder, that you’ll be coming with me?”

“Yes.”

Ah Que smiled. “But I clearly feel… it’s me who will go on ahead.” He slid down, almost submerged in the Ming Sea, leaving a streak of blood on the gate. “Elder, don’t die just yet—use my flesh and blood to sustain yourself until His Highness comes, all right?”

Bi Bao Guard seemed to hesitate, silent for a long while. Ah Que said, “I can’t hold on any longer, but surely you have some magic—wait until His Highness reaches the gate. Please, let the Ming Sea swallow me, let me sink to the bottom.”

“Why must you do this?”

“This way, when His Highness arrives, he won’t see my corpse—he won’t have to grieve for me.” Ah Que felt his heart pounding as if it would leap from his chest. He lowered his eyes. “I know… His Highness already blames himself terribly for Young Master Zheng and for Ah Chu. If he saw me die here, he would feel all the worse…”

He smiled wryly. “But I also want His Highness to know—the life he saved was not wasted… Though it’s shameless for me to say so, I hope you’ll help tell him. I’ll be waiting for him at the bottom of the Ming Sea, until the day he becomes the new Emperor Bai.”

“No, that’s not right. Emperor Bai abandoned Daiyu, but His Highness never abandoned me.” Ah Que murmured, “So he will become a far greater sovereign than Emperor Bai.”

Agony like a thousand dull knives flayed his body. Ah Que looked back toward Daiyu—sea and sky were one, all drowned in the black waves, like the coming of endless night. The dream was shattered, Daiyu was falling into sleep. The pitch-black Ming Sea held the blazing red sun like a brand; this must have been the world at its beginning, everything cycling back to the start.

The sea kept rising. Ah Que turned and walked toward the waves. The Ming Sea gradually swallowed his chest, then his neck. Black sludge poured from his mouth and nose, merging into the sea and gathering behind him into the shape of Bi Bao Guard. Bi Bao Guard gazed at his ruined body, long silent.

“Farewell, young man,” it said. “Soon enough, I’ll meet you at the bottom of the Ming Sea.”

Ah Que closed his eyes, feeling the waves embrace him as a mother would. In the end, he softly replied:

“All right.”