Chapter 89 – Shattered

Though his body fell backward, Wei Yang did not lose consciousness. On the contrary, his senses seemed to have been refined and altered by something, becoming unprecedentedly sharp. Everything around him transformed into something he could perceive—the dust floating in the air, the breeze knocking against the doors and windows, the buzzing sound of the spinning copper coins, and the arm that supported him from behind… In both of his hands, the Bone Formation and the Ghost Yin Wood were burning and trembling. The white light was like a blazing ember, hissing and scorching the skin and flesh of his palms, causing intense pain. Meanwhile, the wooden carving was like a block of cold ice, trembling incessantly, struggling to escape his grasp.

In his consciousness, something was clawing and rampaging madly, trying to invade his mind. An intense pain exploded in his brain, but Wei Yang did not retreat. Instead, he followed the invading force and pressed forward. In that instant, it felt as if his soul had been pulled out, and with a whoosh, he entered another world.

Everything went black, and Wei Yang realized that the scene before his eyes had changed. More precisely, his perspective had shifted, like a sharp thorn piercing into a chaotic mass of fragments. All the images spun before him, and in those fragmented pictures, he saw himself as a child huddled under a table, his grandmother applying makeup in front of a mirror, the towering old Jiang family residence, and even more distant things—robes and jackets, guns and bullets, blood and screams. He spun and stretched through countless fragments of images until, at a certain moment, the chaotic world suddenly came to a halt.

He found himself running through a patch of tall grass on a moonlit night. The moon in the sky was red and large, like a misplaced sun. The grass was so high that it seemed to engulf him entirely. He ran on all fours, his nose filled with the scent of blood. Perhaps he was running too fast, as the long grass stems whipped against his body, leaving a burning pain.

Suddenly, he stopped. All the fur on his back and waist stood on end, and he bared his teeth in a threatening manner, growling low in his throat. Before him stood a figure. Perhaps the blood dripping from his forehead obscured his vision, but the figure appeared blurry and unnaturally tall, exuding an aura of fear. He cautiously took two steps back, his long fox-like snout parting to reveal sharp fangs…

“Evil beast, where do you think you’re going?” The man’s voice was not loud, but it was icy cold, as if addressing a lifeless object.

Who was that man? Trembling under the cold pressure, his limbs shook, torn between the urge to turn and flee and the desire to pounce. But before he could act, a blinding light erupted before him. The fox let out a piercing scream!

The scream echoed in his ears like a heavy drum, relentless and maddening. Wei Yang suddenly snapped back to consciousness, his soul seemingly yanked out of that body. He realized that the world before him had changed again. The low perspective from earlier was gone, and he now floated in the air like a ghost. He wasn’t the fox, of course, but he had intruded into the fox’s memories.

Was this… invading the fox’s soul?

Wei Yang felt an intense headache, so severe that he could barely stand, but he couldn’t pull himself out of this world. He could only watch helplessly as the scene unfolded below. The fox had collapsed to the ground, blood seeping from its nose and mouth. Its blood-stained fur no longer rose and fell, clearly lifeless. In contrast, a small fox spirit floated in the air, curled up in a ball, seemingly pleading for something.

“Spare you? When you were a beast, you harmed people without remorse. Now that you’ve become a malevolent spirit, how can I spare you?”

The fox clasped its paws together as if speaking, its spirit emitting a hissing sound.

“Atone? Serve the Jiang family…”

The man’s raised finger paused for a moment, as if hesitating, but the fox did not hesitate. It barked loudly, and as it did, a small black circle formed above its head, trembling as if it would dissipate at the slightest breeze.

The man remained silent for a moment, then finally cut his fingertip. A drop of bright red blood fell onto the black circle, and a long incantation spilled from his lips, filled with an eerie rhythm and cadence, unlike any human voice. The fox’s face lit up with joy, and a flash of red light appeared above its head before disappearing instantly. Its body no longer trembled, fully submitting at the man’s feet. Wei Yang widened his eyes, trying to see more clearly, but the man on the ground looked up, his cold, star-like eyes glowing with an odd light.

As if stung by that cold light, Wei Yang felt his body lighten, and with a whoosh, he was pulled out of the chaotic world. The weight in his hands returned, but this time, what he saw was not the old residence or the embroidery room but another scene. The fox was howling madly in a cage, its green eyes glowing like ghostly flames.

“Foxy Lady,” Wei Yang called out, his voice hoarse and cold.

The fox’s head snapped up, its green eyes tinged with red: “You will kill me! You will kill me!”

The sound that came from its throat was not language but rather a collision of thoughts. Wei Yang’s ears buzzed as if pierced by a steel spike, but his expression remained unchanged. Instead, he walked toward the fox. The things he had just seen slowly began to make sense, and Wei Yang fully understood. He said coldly, “This was your agreement with the Jiang family ancestor. You swore a blood oath. Why did you want to kill me? Why did you say I bring misfortune to the family…”

The ferocity in the fox’s eyes did not fade; instead, the fur on its neck stood on end. “You are not from the Jiang family! You are not a Jiang witch! You are a calamity star! You will kill me! You will harm everyone around you!”

“With this Bone Formation?” Wei Yang extended his hand. In this illusory world, his left hand still glowed with white light, and outside the faint white light, a trace of blood-red seeped from the base of his thumb.

The fox howled, like the wail of a malevolent ghost: “Heaven’s will! You will kill me! I must eliminate you! Eliminate you!”

“You saw Heaven’s will?” Wei Yang’s voice was devoid of warmth, as if he had turned into a block of cold stone. “You said it was destined that I would kill you? That’s why you said I bring misfortune to the family? That’s why you used these methods? You wanted to strike first?”

He didn’t know how much of the past and future this beast could foresee, but he knew that because of this so-called “Heaven’s will,” his parents, his family, and his entire life had been changed, all for the sake of a vague “possibility.” His jaw clenched tightly, and he slowly raised his hand. The white light sizzled as if it would pierce through his palm, but Wei Yang did not let go. He placed that hand before him.

The fox seemed to sense the danger but had nowhere to escape. It knelt down, its limbs bent and touching the ground, wailing mournfully: “I can swear again, to serve the Wei family, the Jiang family… to serve your descendants…”

In the white light, its figure flickered like a candle flame in a storm, humble and submissive, even carrying a hint of temptation. Perhaps it had transformed itself into a peerless beauty, perhaps it was using its last ounce of strength to beg for escape, but in Wei Yang’s eyes, the fox was still a fox, its green eyes glowing, its long snout stained with blood.

He smiled faintly: “Descendants? No need.”

As soon as the last word left his lips, the fox lunged forward, seemingly determined to fight to the death. This was a malevolent spirit nourished by Ghost Yin Wood for hundreds of years, while Wei Yang was just an ordinary person. He had never studied any Taoist techniques or delved into any mystical arts. Aside from the tricks of a charlatan, he should have known nothing about this. Yet, strange syllables spilled from his lips, rising and falling with an eerie rhythm and melody, like the incantation of that Jiang family ancestor. It was something the Jiang family had passed down through generations, along with the Ghost Yin Wood and the Bone Formation.

Driven by the sound, the light grew brighter, like an arrow shot from a bow, piercing straight toward the fox. With a deafening crash, the white light penetrated the shadowy figure, striking the fox’s forehead. It let out a piercing scream, and its hazy form began to shatter, as if disintegrating in the blazing sun.

With a crisp crack, the fox wooden carving in Wei Yang’s hand shattered. The smiling fox face swayed for a moment before splitting in two and falling to the ground.

Wei Yang’s pupils contracted, and everything before his eyes suddenly came into focus. He saw the dusty room, the broken doors and windows, the cobwebs on the beams, and the person holding him tightly. His throat moved, and he forced a smile: “Brother Qi, did I kill that fox?”

Zhang Xiuqi’s expression was not good. When Wei Yang had fallen backward, his face had turned pale, and he had immediately caught the unconscious figure. Yet, the white light that burst from Wei Yang’s palm was all too familiar. The intense headache felt as if it would split his skull, churning his brain and piercing his heart and lungs. But he had still held Wei Yang tightly, even if he couldn’t help, refusing to let go.

The trembling stopped, the wooden carving shattered, and the white light gradually faded. Zhang Xiuqi’s wildly beating heart slowly calmed, and his gaze shifted to the Zhufang in Wei Yang’s hand. He nodded: “Yes.”

With the Little Celestial Master’s affirmation, Wei Yang’s heart finally settled. Only then did he notice the clamminess of his body. His clothes were soaked in cold sweat, and his limbs felt as if they had been filled with mercury. His head buzzed with pain, whether from overexertion or injury, and there was a faint taste of blood in his mouth and nose.

To kill that fox, he had indeed pushed himself to the limit. But now, those minor symptoms were the least of his concerns. Instead, his heart was filled with peace, as if years of pent-up frustration and resentment had been swept away. Behind him, Zhang Xiuqi’s warm body pressed tightly against his back, and the strong, steady heartbeat seemed to resonate in his ears, carrying a comforting aura.

Wei Yang blinked, a smile appearing on his lips. He tossed aside the Ghost Yin Wood and grabbed Zhang Xiuqi’s collar with his right hand: “It’s a pity I couldn’t skin that beast alive. If it weren’t for the Jiang family ancestor back then, this probably wouldn’t have happened…”

As he spoke, he tried to push himself up, but his body stiffened, freezing in place. In his mind, another door opened, and a figure appeared—a very young woman…

“Mom…” Wei Yang’s lips trembled. He had seen photos of his parents, but he had never been able to connect them to the memories of the past. He knew he had lost a part of his memory because of that damned fox, but he didn’t know what he had seen the night his parents died.

Now, he saw it.

“The dog, the dog is over there…” A three- or four-year-old child stood at the door, staring fixedly at a mound of dirt in the corner of the yard, muttering something.

“I told you not to bury that dead dog here! Look, you’ve scared the child!” The woman shouted into the house, then gently crouched down, ruffling the little head in front of her. “Ah Yang, don’t be afraid. That dog is here to make jade. When the jade is ready, Mom will buy you a toy. Here, take this and go play.”

A small bone joint was placed in his hand, longer and thicker than the two pieces of the Bone Formation he had seen before, with intricate patterns carved into it. As soon as he held it, the shadow in the corner quieted down, and the blood no longer flowed from the grotesque snout, as if it had encountered something it feared. Seeing this, the child giggled and ran happily into the yard, while the woman smiled, not expecting that the small object she had dug out of the clay pot would bring her son so much joy.

“Xiao Ling, come give me a hand!”

A man’s voice came from inside the house, filled with laughter. The woman patted her knees and stood up, walking into the house. The child, still not ready to go inside, played around the yard, slapping the water vat and touching the bronze cauldron piled in the corner. His small hand clutched the bone joint as if it were his most treasured possession.

Night fell, and the village was eerily quiet. The moon was red, large and round, hanging high in the sky. A slanting cloud drifted over, obscuring half of the moonlight. Then, a suppressed restlessness suddenly appeared, spreading across the entire village like a lit fuse. Chickens, ducks, dogs, even rats and ants seemed to freeze in place, unable to move. The air was filled with a strange silence, and even human voices gradually faded away.

The child stopped in his tracks. He looked up at the sky, his round eyes filled with fear. Unlike everyone else, he started running, trying to rush into the house and into his mother’s arms. Unfortunately, his little feet weren’t very steady, and with a thud, he fell to the ground. His hand seemed to have hit something, and a drop of blood fell onto the bone joint in his palm.

As soon as the blood touched the pale bone, it began to glow! With this silver light, ripples formed in the air, condensing and swirling above the small courtyard. From the corner came a suppressed growl, and a vicious dog emerged from the ground, its intestines spilling out, its fur filthy. Its blood-red eyes locked onto the house’s door, black drool dripping from its mouth. It didn’t seem to notice the stunned child and lunged forward, crashing into the house like a shadow.

The child was utterly terrified. The dog he had seen earlier hadn’t been this frightening, but before he could react, a scream came from inside the house! A roar!

“…No! What’s wrong with you… Ahhhhhhh! Ah Yang, Ah Yang, run… run…”

The voice was intermittent, then suddenly stopped. Through the half-open door, the boy saw what was happening inside. A man was viciously choking a woman, her slender neck twisted out of place, hanging limply to the side. Dark purple blood dripped from her pale lips. The man who had killed her had a completely distorted face, his fangs growing long enough to pierce through his lips, drool uncontrollably spilling from his mouth…

Dad, Mom…

The man slowly turned his head. The boy could no longer hold back and started running, but sounds were already coming from inside the house. He didn’t have time to reach the door. In a panic, he ducked into an overturned water jar nearby, hugging his knees tightly as he curled up at the bottom. He didn’t want to hear! He didn’t want to see!

After what felt like an eternity, a small hand appeared before him, holding half a piece of candy that smelled sweet and fragrant. A voice whispered in his ear.

Don’t be afraid, I’ll protect you…

“Ah Yang!”

Wei Yang shuddered, snapping out of it. The chaotic thoughts swirling in his mind began to settle, becoming faint and hazy. Before him was an extraordinarily handsome face, its brow furrowed, cold as ice, but those black eyes carried a childlike innocence, tinged with barely noticeable anxiety and worry.

He had seen that face before, on that moonlit night, in that small courtyard. He had indeed seen it…

“Brother Qi…”

Wei Yang’s lips moved, but something uncontrollable spilled from his eyes. What had really happened that night in Wang Village? What was that vicious dog spirit? What was that white bone? He had spilled blood on the Bone Formation. Had he caused it all…

The fox’s menacing laughter echoed in his ears: “You are a calamity star! You will harm everyone around you!”

Was the “Heaven’s will” it spoke of true? Even if it hadn’t said those words, would he still have caused his parents to encounter evil spirits? Would he still have brought endless danger to those around him, costing them their lives? Was the fox acting for its own sake, or had it truly foreseen the future?

He had killed his own parents…

Wei Yang’s body trembled uncontrollably, his eyes wide and vacant, tears streaming down his cheeks. He wasn’t a person who cried often. In fact, he hadn’t cried since he became an adult. But now, he could only clutch Zhang Xiuqi’s collar tightly, as if clinging to a lifeline.

Zhang Xiuqi hadn’t expected this, nor did he know how to handle it. All he knew was that the liquid flowing from Wei Yang’s eyes made his chest feel heavy, and the hand gripping his collar made it hard to breathe. After a moment of hesitation, he hugged the man in his arms tightly, pressing his lips to the other’s eyes, kissing away the cold, salty tears.

Perhaps because the tears were flowing too quickly, the soft, warm lips followed the trail of moisture downward, landing on the tense corner of Wei Yang’s mouth. The hand clutching his collar tightened, and Wei Yang pulled him down, pressing his cold, trembling lips to Zhang Xiuqi’s.

Those lips carried coldness, saltiness, a metallic tang, and something that could support him moving forward. Wei Yang closed his eyes and kissed the person who had always been by his side.