He and It Chapter 222: Inquire Here (50)

Chapter 222: Inquire Here (50)

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: GaeaTiamat

 

Yan Huan held Liu Fuguang’s body in his arms, his breathing very calm. His eyes moved slightly beneath his eyelids. He had fallen into a dream, but Yan Huan couldn’t bring him back. That was something the Dragon God could not tolerate.

Yan Huan’s expression suddenly twisted with fury. His half of his muddled nine eyes locked onto the shamans dancing and singing on the altar, unaware that disaster was imminent.

Black tendrils, like thick, sticky sea tides, wrapped around Liu Fuguang’s body, and placed him in the heart of the Dragon God’s domain. Yan Huan then transformed into his true dragon form, and roared down from the sky. The grand and ancient altar, which stretched tens of thousands of meters, seemed like a pitiful little tree about to collapse, as it was entangled by a giant snake.

“Bold beyond measure!” the Dragon God roared in a hoarse voice. The hundreds of shamans were unable to fight back, their hearts pierced by sharp, deadly spikes, as they were dragged towards the massive, blind dragon’s presence. “How dare you play tricks in front of me? Immediately undo all of Wu Luo’s spells!”

“Sinful, sinful dragon…” The Supreme Evil’s power coursed through the shamans, and their faces contorted in pain as they gasped for air. “How…how could you escape…?”

“It’s not the cursed dragon sealed by the Ancestor Shaman!” The chief shaman, who was still holding onto a shred of life, could not fathom the catastrophe that had descended upon them. Never did he imagine that an external force could break through the heavenly barrier of Tian Shu Yumen. “It’s here to take revenge for its kind…Give up. The curse set by the Ancestor Shaman cannot be undone. Otherwise, this world won’t exist. What meaning is there in our lives if we’re dead? Killing us is futile.”

Yan Huan, instead of showing anger, smiled slowly. He opened his dragon mouth, and revealed the bloody, spiral-shaped teeth like those of the Underworld, with countless black tongues winding between them, reminiscent of a serpent kingdom.

At that sight, the shamans all turned pale.

In all their lives, they had never seen a sight more terrifying. Between the forked, torrent-like black tongues, they saw faces rising and sinking in misery. Distorted, twisted expressions, that cried out in desperation. Even the river of souls in the netherworld couldn’t compare to the horrifying scene within the dragon’s mouth.

“You thought I was Yinglong?” Yan Huan let out a huff of dragon’s breath like a sea of blood, that instantly engulfed all the shamans. “Even if the true Emperor Ying came, he would retreat in front of me. You thought I was Yinglong?”

The chief shaman could not speak. His eyelids and tongue trembled with fear. The Dragon God hissed, “I don’t want to repeat myself.”

Just then, the clouds in the sky swirled and revealed a path that seemed to open a gateway between the world and another. The wild wind descended, and engulfed the altar and Yan Huan’s true form, then forcefully pushed the tendrils that had pierced the shamans aside.

Yan Huan’s nine eyes frantically turned as they tried to catch the shape of the one who had arrived. He saw a hazy will pierce the dying shaman’s body, like too much water forced into a ball too small to hold it, as it squeezed as much into him as possible out before the ball burst.

“Supreme Evil…” The face of the chief shaman flickered, briefly revealing Wu Luo’s true form. “Please listen to me…”

Yan Huan remained in a hunting stance, as suspicion flashed across his face. “Wu Luo?”

“Supreme Goodness entrusted me with this. The song is bringing him into the memory of Li Muxing…”

Yan Huan patiently listened, understanding that “Li Muxing” must be the name of the young dragon.

“But I overlooked something,” Wu Luo admitted, “Just as my spell can make Li Muxing recall the deepest memories in her dreams, Supreme Goodness heard the message and became lost in his dreams as well…”

The blood in Yan Huan’s veins froze for an instant at those words.

“…What do you mean?” he asked. “Are you saying Fuguang is trapped in his own memories, and that’s why he can’t wake up?”

Wu Luo nodded silently.

From start to finish, the other shamans, having listened to their conversation, might as well have been hearing a blurry, flickering scripture from the heavens, since they were unable to distinguish a single character.

Yan Huan paused for a moment. His dragon form shrank rapidly, until it condensed into a single point. He transformed back into a human shape, and held Liu Fuguang tightly in his arms.

“Let me in,” he said briefly. “I want to enter his memories.”

Wu Luo shook his head helplessly. “I carry a curse, and you are the Dragon God of Supreme Evil. My spell cannot touch your soul…”

Yan Huan’s face twisted, and he looked like he wanted to tear apart the body in front of him.

“Just be patient for now…” Wu Luo whispered. The great shaman’s body, in the end, couldn’t withstand the projection of a world’s consciousness. With a violent crash, it exploded into a pool of blood that flooded the ground.

Yan Huan gritted his teeth in anger and suddenly smashed the other shaman, who were still struggling for life, into piles of meat paste. He then destroyed the thousand-meter altar and, without looking back, left the ruins and the panicked crowd. He returned to the small town where he and Liu Fuguang had temporarily settled.

Compared to other more grand places, that humble inn at least still carried the lingering scent of Liu Fuguang.

As he faced the simple bed, he barely hesitated. The dragon refused to let his partner’s body leave him, so he held Liu Fuguang in his arms as usual. If it had been any other time, Yan Huan would have been happy enough to die immediately just holding Liu Fuguang like that. However, right now, he was filled with worry, as he constantly thought about what kind of memory Liu Fuguang was trapped in.

There was no doubt that, whether it was the time he spent with his family, his cultivation journey, or the days after they were married, none of it could compare to that one moment—the moment when his Dao companion had cruelly betrayed him, and left him to die at the bottom of Zhongshan Cliff.

Yan Huan wanted Liu Fuguang to speak of his pain, to slowly bridge the gap between them. However, Yan Huan absolutely didn’t want him to relive the nightmare, to once again see the pitiful look on his face as he tried to cherish time.

Liu Fuguang’s forehead had tiny beads of sweat, and his body began to tremble. Yan Huan, with a heart full of dread, hurried to wipe his sweat. As he lifted his hand, it moved Liu Fuguang’s sleeve, and it was then that he suddenly smelled the blood in the air.

It was sweet like dew, and bitter like bile – Liu Fuguang’s blood.

Yan Huan looked down and saw that a fresh wound had suddenly opened on Liu Fuguang’s wrist. It looked as if it had been mercilessly slashed by a beast’s fang or a blade, and as the blood splattered, it also shattered the dragon’s heart.

“…No.” Yan Huan’s pupils shrank, and panic overtook him. He hurriedly laid Liu Fuguang down on the ground, as he tried to cover the wound with his hand. “No, no, no…”

Liu Fuguang wouldn’t wake up, but was twitching from the pain in his sleep. The wound continued to spread cruelly and rapidly. Yan Huan watched helplessly as blood spurted from Liu Fuguang’s white-robed shoulder and almost tore the flesh apart.

Yan Huan screamed in horror. He threw himself on top of Liu Fuguang, as tears poured from his eyes. He desperately used his divine power, and tried to heal those terrifying bite marks, but it was of little use. He struggled to enter Liu Fuguang’s spiritual realm, but was blocked by an unbreakable barrier.

Trapped in the nightmare of his life, Liu Fuguang turned into that pitiful, tragic, and laughable lover once again – betrayed, lying at the bottom of Zhongshan Cliff, as he helplessly awaited the end while he was devoured by wild beasts.

“No, don’t do this! Don’t hurt him!” Yan Huan screamed hoarsely, barely able to distinguish whether he was pleading or howling in desperation. “Fuguang, Fuguang…I’m here! Wake up! The beast is already dead. I killed them, ate them, they won’t hurt you anymore…Fuguang, wake up…”

He pressed his lips tightly to the bloody, mangled wound, kissing it desperately, as he tried to transfer the pain to his own body.

Come bite me, come eat me, tear me apart! That was the only thought left in his mind. Don’t hurt him. I know I was wrong. I’d give anything to make up for it…Don’t hurt him. He’s so young, so fragile. He’s never thought to hurt anyone. He shouldn’t have to suffer this, he shouldn’t…

The tears of the Dragon God mixed with blood, as they flowed in torrents. Liu Fuguang finally began to scream in anguish in his sleep, like a bird whose wings were cruelly broken. Yan Huan held him, and his gaze suddenly caught something strange on Liu Fuguang’s abdomen – it was bizarrely sunken.

Since he could no longer distinguish between dream and reality, the wounds Yan Huan had once inflicted on him appeared once again, fresh and vivid on his body.

At that moment, Yan Huan was speechless, completely stunned.

In the end, whether it was the beast, the pain of his Dao-heart being torn, or the six thousand years of solitary torment in a coffin with no life or death, it was all a nightmare Yan Huan had brought to Liu Fuguang. And now, the perpetrator knelt before the victim. What kind of compensation could he possibly offer?

“…Don’t let him suffer any more of this!” The Dragon God suddenly roared, his voice hoarse and exhausted. He cried out to the heavens, calling upon cause and effect, and all the gods and spirits in the void. “If you’ve favored him, made him do the greatest good, then you shouldn’t let him endure this suffering, this torment! Come mock me, come torture me! I’ll take all the worst things in his place, just don’t…don’t do this to him…”

Liu Fuguang opened his mouth, emitting a long, hoarse, muffled cry for help. His sobs caught in his throat, choking and causing him to convulse in a desperate struggle.

Yan Huan gritted his teeth, bit his tongue to the point of bleeding. He could no longer bear it. He pressed his forehead against Liu Fuguang’s, and used his divine soul to force his way into Liu Fuguang’s spiritual realm.

Even if the move was risky, he couldn’t let things deteriorate any further.

The dragon’s soul howled, as it repeatedly crashed against the barrier in Liu Fuguang’s heart, until the final and most forceful impact almost caused a crack to form in it.

Liu Fuguang gasped heavily and suddenly opened his eyes wide.

His gaze was empty and dazed, his pupils dilated. Fear was the only thing left in them.

“…Fuguang?” Yan Huan whispered his name softly, as if afraid to blow away a fleeting bit of fluff. “Fuguang? Qingqing, look at me. It’s alright now…”

Liu Fuguang couldn’t sense anyone or anything. He shook so violently that he seemed like he might shatter. A confused, dying sound escaped his throat. Even though his eyes were open, all he saw was darkness.

Yan Huan held him tightly. His face was smeared with blood, which was soon washed away by scorching tears. He gently rocked him, and called out desperately, but no matter what he did, Liu Fuguang remained unresponsive. Just a moment ago, he had cried out in his sleep, but now he was like a doll, completely numb, having shut himself off entirely.

In the dragon’s arms, Liu Fuguang seemed so pitifully small, like a curled, emaciated child who didn’t know how to escape the cruelty of the world.

Lost in a haze, Liu Fuguang suddenly heard a voice—distant, faint, as if coming from the other side of the horizon.

“—Swallows fly, waiting for someone…”

Swallows flying back and forth, please carry my message of longing, tell the one I love that I’m still waiting for him to return.

That ancient and brief love song had once been composed by the Tushan clan for Emperor Yu. Yan Huan sang it, trembling, and his deep sorrow echoed in Liu Fuguang’s ear. The dragon’s mournful cry reverberated like a lullaby.

In a daze, Liu Fuguang slowly came to.

“I dreamt of Zhongshan,” Liu Fuguang said.

His nose, lips, and throat were all covered in blood. Yan Huan instinctively pulled him closer.

“The dream beasts…they smelled my scent,” he said in a distant, ethereal tone, as if he were talking about something unrelated to himself. “They were hungry, thirsty, and came from all directions. They smelled my injury and the blood I was losing. Then they gathered around, tore me apart, bit me, bit me, then kept biting.”

Yan Huan didn’t know what else to do. In that tiny, isolated space, he was the only one who could offer Liu Fuguang support, even if he was the cause of it all, and the other was the innocent victim.

He kissed Liu Fuguang’s hairline and forehead, pressed him tightly against himself. Tried to heal him, tried to soothe him. He couldn’t tell if his actions helped, but since he could remember, beasts always huddled together to warm each other in that way.

“I’m in pain. I can’t breathe. I tried desperately to run, but they pulled at my limbs, my scalp, drank my blood, ate my flesh. I screamed. I cried out. I wanted someone to save me.”

Liu Fuguang lowered his gaze and met Yan Huan’s eyes.

“The first one I thought of was you. I wanted you to come save me.”

Yan Huan’s breath hitched. He pressed his forehead against Liu Fuguang’s temple and suddenly cried, and struggled to breathe.

“I…” The dragon’s voice was hoarse as he tried to speak, “I will save you, I swear. I’ll do everything I can to save you…”

“Not then,” Liu Fuguang interrupted. “Not when I needed you the most. That day, you ruined my cultivation base, and threw me down Zhongshan.”

Pain had cut through Yan Huan’s ribs when Internal Demon pierced his chest, then tore out his heart, but the pain he felt then was nothing compared to the agony he felt now.

“Afterwards, I stopped shouting because I realized you were the one who caused it all. I trusted you too much. My foolishness led to this outcome.” Liu Fuguang spoke clumsily, bluntly, like a child who had just learned to speak, as he used the simplest words to express his feelings. “I called for my mother, my father, my brother…called for many Immortals. Too many. I can’t even remember their names. After a while, I stopped calling because it didn’t help.”

Liu Fuguang stared silently into Yan Huan’s many eyes, then pointed to his own heart.

“You were right,” he said. A single tear fell without warning. “There is an old wound buried here, and it will never heal, never.”

Yan Huan choked on his words, “No, it…it will heal, it definitely will…”

Liu Fuguang looked at him. His lips twisted into a grotesque shape, and suddenly he screamed in anger.

“—You’re lying!”

The calm illusion was shattered by his words.

“You’re lying…it will never heal! I can’t trust anyone again. I can’t love anyone else. It took away my power. You took away my power!” He shouted hysterically. “I was willing to give up everything for you! You don’t know, you don’t know…I once swore I’d give up the throne, my status, just to be with you. I thought…if you weren’t a god, if you lost your cultivation base and were destitute, would I still want to be with you? I thought about it, and I could say I’d still want to!”

Yan Huan’s eyes widened, and he shook as he gasped for air.

“What price did I pay for my trust?” Liu Fuguang broke down completely. He cried out in agony. “You don’t know…you don’t know anything! I was shattered into someone else, and you don’t understand because you despise this pain! You think it’s weak, humble…you’re lying! You’re lying…”

Time passed, but Yan Huan couldn’t utter a single word. It was as if he, too, was shattered. Deep down, he wanted to refute those words, but he knew Liu Fuguang was right. The old Supreme Evil was just like that – he had rejected the warmth and love Liu Fuguang had given him. He…he didn’t want such things.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Yan Huan could only mutter hoarsely. “It’s my fault.”

Liu Fuguang was struggling to breathe. The air rushed fiercely through his mouth, and brought with it broken sobs.

Yes, it had been many years. He had buried those wounds deep inside, and even though they had rotted away, just recalling them for a moment made the pain suffocate him; forced him into constant self-loathing. Foolish, naive…all of it was his fault because he had trusted the Supreme Evil God, and even gave him the power to hurt him…

“Don’t say that!” Yan Huan desperately held him. “You didn’t bring this upon yourself. I will say it a thousand times, a million times. I will keep saying it’s my fault as long as you still don’t believe it!”

Liu Fuguang choked back sobs. Before he even realized it, he had spoken his innermost thoughts aloud.

“It will never heal…” Liu Fuguang muttered. “Things that collapsed in an instant…how many years did it take to build them? Back then, you didn’t care, and now I don’t care either…”

“It’s okay, Qingqing, it’s okay,” Yan Huan was crying continuously, as he kissed his temple and lied to him. “Where in this world is there such a thing as forever? You’ll get better. You’re so strong. I’ve never seen anyone more resilient than you. You’ll be fine, you’re the Supreme Goodness…”

When Liu Fuguang had heard those last words, his expression changed drastically. He suddenly struggled violently within Yan Huan’s arms and screamed out, “I’m not the Supreme Goodness! I’m not! I don’t want that title anymore! It gave me a bit of kindness, then demanded ten, twelve times the pain. What kind of Supreme Goodness is that?!”

“Alright, alright! You’re not. We won’t call it that anymore!” Yan Huan hadn’t expected his reaction, and quickly promised, “It’s fine, we won’t call it that, we won’t…”

Liu Fuguang gritted his teeth, while tears streamed down his face. His white robes were drenched in blood, and Yan Huan was in the same disheveled state.

The two of them were exhausted and covered in wounds, as they curled up together in the room. After a long silence, Yan Huan slowly spoke, his voice soft. “Really, I’m not just trying to comfort you. If you don’t want to be the Supreme Goodness anymore, then let it go.”

Liu Fuguang didn’t say anything. Yan Huan continued, “When I was born, everything was sealed by a True Immortal. The Supreme Evil had descended to the world, and it needed to be paired with the Supreme Goodness. That dragged you into this. If you think the hurt is too much, that it can never heal, then once we remove all the anchor points and eradicate Internal Demon…”

He paused for a moment, gently brushed a hand through Liu Fuguang’s messy, damp hair, and tucked it behind his ear. He said softly, “I’ll sever the Dao lineage, and we’ll never meet again. By then, the Supreme Evil will have dissipated, and you won’t be considered the Supreme Goodness anymore. Cultivators live long lives, so after I’m gone, you’ll have a thousand years to live a peaceful life. Would that be alright?”

Liu Fuguang remained silent.

He suddenly realized that Yan Huan’s words had, in some inexplicable way, caused a peculiar ripple in the depths of his soul.