Chapter 230: Inquire Here (58)
Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Editor: GaeaTiamat
Liu Fuguang was still pondering the origins of that damn eclipse when he heard Yan Huan speak, and his face darkened immediately. He said, “Yan Huan, be more polite.”
King Chishui’s hair stood on end as he shouted, “Demon, die!” With that, he drew his sword and swung it toward Yan Huan’s head.
Yan Huan, distracted, raised two fingers and the sword’s blade caught between his index and middle fingers, stopped as if it had struck an immovable mountain. The sword’s tip wouldn’t budge, not even a little.
The Dragon God looked up and down at the young king. For over ten years, his lover had shared the same time and space as that mortal as they faced each other day and night. Even if it was a trick of the Mirror of the World, Yan Huan still felt the urge to take the same path as last time and inflict a thousand cuts and make a game of it.
“An earthly paradise?” Yan Huan said with a playful smile. “Mortal, do you wish to become a philosopher king?”
King Chishui’s expression changed. He realized that his confession had been heard by the ominous man in front of him. He tried to call for the guards, but for some reason, it was as if he were under a spell, and he found himself answering the man’s question.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not like you…Leave my palace, and leave my kingdom!”
“The devil’s wish can only summon the devil,” Yan Huan mused. Then, after a moment’s thought, loosened his grip on the sword with a bit of amusement. He slowly walked around King Chishui and asked, “What’s the matter? Don’t you want to end your nightmare? Don’t you want to fulfill your ideal?”
Yan Huan stopped and stared at the pale-faced King Chishui.
The mirror had brought them here twice, so there must be a reason for them to face Chishui Wang each alone.
“If you agree, I can help you. Think about it – your wish and your wonderful world…”
King Chishui, trembled as he swung his sword uselessly at him. “Go away, demon, go away!”
When he saw that, Yan Huan let out a soft, chilling laugh. “Of course, I’m not in a hurry. When you figure it out, you’ll come begging me.”
With that, he vanished in a cloud of black smoke that dissipated across the golden floor of the palace.
As he stood in the shadows, Yan Huan watched as King Chishui moved about. He guarded himself cautiously, but Yan Huan was just waiting for him to fall apart.
Liu Fuguang sighed. “Why do you have to do this?”
When he heard his lover’s sigh, Yan Huan slowly gritted his teeth as a wave of jealousy stirred painfully in his heart.
Earlier, he was pondering the deal the God of Drought mentioned. With whom had the deal been made? He looked at Liu Fuguang, noted his tone when he spoke about departure, the actions…Love made a person incredibly sensitive, and Yan Huan sensed something delicate in the air. The way he viewed the God of Drought’s past, he could barely contain his hatred.
“…Are you concerned about me?” he murmured, his voice laced with resentment.
Liu Fuguang stared at him, stunned and silent for a moment.
After he asked that question, Yan Huan immediately regretted it and quickly tried to cover it up. “No, I didn’t mean that…”
“You don’t care who I’m concerned about. It won’t be you,” Liu Fuguang replied coolly. “Is that satisfactory?”
Yan Huan lowered his head, and felt as though he had just been slapped twice in the face. His skin reddened in embarrassment.
He muttered softly, “It’s hard to control my emotions. I didn’t mean anything by it…You don’t need to say such harsh things to provoke me…”
He kept his head lowered, as his body curled in on itself, and seemed smaller and more vulnerable than usual. His usual imposing air completely disappeared.
Liu Fuguang frowned. He looked at Yan Huan in that pitiful state, and remained silent for a long time before he asked, “All right, let’s not discuss this further. What are your plans?”
Yan Huan kept his eyes down, his gaze fixed, as he murmured in response, “…The God of Drought’s past life was King Chishui, and the mirror’s intent is to change fate. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have made us take turns. I’m the Supreme Evil, and I’ll only use the Supreme Evil’s methods to help him.”
Liu Fuguang nodded. They both fell into a quiet silence. Neither spoke for a while. After a moment, Yan Huan seemed to forget everything that had just happened and smiled brightly, saying, “Fuguang, look at those two birds pecking at each other under the eaves. Their golden feathers are so festive.”
With a deep sigh, Liu Fuguang finally couldn’t hold back and asked, “How is your injury? Has it worsened?”
Yan Huan paused, then laughed again, his smile even brighter. “It’s nothing. The injury is bad, but once everything settles and I regain my dragon heart, I’ll recover.”
Liu Fuguang asked softly, “Can you hold on?”
Yan Huan turned around and met Liu Fuguang’s gaze. There were a thousand things he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how to start.
If I answer with something like “I’m about to break” or “I’m struggling,” how would he react? Would he change his attitude and reach out to help me?
I know he would. But things like that always go too far. He’s already shown concern for me…I don’t need to overdo it.
After a moment, Yan Huan said softly, “Don’t worry. I can hold on.”
In the royal court, King Chishui’s decisions continued to be questioned. He accepted refugees and those fleeing from other kingdoms, but this led to growing unrest. Crime, including theft and murder, was on the rise, and the kingdom’s resources – water and food – were becoming increasingly stretched. Worst of all, spies began infiltrating from both inside and outside the kingdom, using the pretense of “King Chishui’s mercy,” as they tried to gather intelligence.
The young king, caught off guard, was unable to manage the situation. His reforms, which were bold and sweeping, only deepened the cracks within the royal court.
He unknowingly nurtured the ambitions of his ministers, and misjudged his own authority. He had long admired his father’s strong rule, watched how the late king suppressed his ministers, and had mistakenly believed that the same power and authority belonged to him.
Four years into his reign, King Chishui’s kingdom faced both internal and external crises. He lost the power to govern, and his decrees couldn’t even leave the royal palace. Yesterday’s dismissed officials still walked freely in the palace, as they smiled and bowed to him.
Amidst all of that, the kingdom’s army rebelled. The prime minister, a man who had served the late king, deposed the young king without mercy.
Having watched King Chishui grow up, the prime minister showed no compassion for the fallen ruler. He ordered that the ex-king’s face be branded, his right arm and legs broken, then he was exiled from the kingdom.
The deposed king left in utter misery. His family was executed as well, no survivors were left.
In the vast desert, under a crescent moon, the ex-king, bloodied and near death, lay there. In his final moments, he remembered his not-so-distant past. He once made a deal with the devil and owed him one final plea.
“…I…beg you…” King Chishui’s lips moved, barely able to utter the words, “Please…”
The moonlight was cold and silent, as it shone on the silver sands, while a figure dressed in black stood there as if he had never left.
“If you had known this would happen, why bother in the first place?” Yan Huan said cheerfully.
The pitch-black tendrils spread from his sleeve, and coiled around King Chishui’s limbs. They produced the screeching, bone-crushing sound of flesh being twisted and pulverized.
The dying man screamed in agony, the pain far beyond what he could endure, as if all his bones had been shattered into fragments, while his flesh and blood were being violently twisted. He wailed and begged for mercy, but the devil who was tormenting him just laughed coldly.
“This is the path you chose,” the devil said. “There’s no turning back, no way to reverse it!”
King Chishui lost consciousness. When he awoke, he found himself in a cave. His body was unharmed and even stronger than before, like he had gained tenfold more strength than in his healthy state.
The devil walked in and tossed him a beastskin scroll.
“Follow the method on this scroll to cultivate,” the devil instructed. “In three days, I want to see your progress. Otherwise, your child’s hands won’t be saved.”
With that, he left. King Chishui, bewildered, didn’t understand what the devil meant. Looking at the beastskin, it seemed like a difficult and obscure text.
He pulled at his hair in frustration, but after three days of effort, he still made no progress. When the devil came to inspect him and saw his fearful expression, he simply smiled in delight.
That night, King Chishui saw his five-year-old son.
In the next instant, his innocent little son’s left arm was severed by the pitch-black tendrils, and blood sprayed everywhere!
King Chishui’s vision turned black. He screamed hoarsely, and tried to kill the devil, but the devil easily took his son away, and left behind one final sentence.
“In three days, I want to see your progress. Otherwise, none of your child’s limbs will be saved.”
Desperate, King Chi Shui studied furiously, as he tried to comprehend, but in the process, his son still lost another hand and a leg.
He went mad, became dazed, and grew numb, but the devil only took pleasure in his suffering. Finally, when he had mastered the basics and was able to “draw the flow of air from the world into his body and make it rotate,” King Chishui began to question the purpose of his revenge. Was he seeking revenge on the traitors, on the devil, or had he, driven to desperation, simply chosen the devil’s path?
“What’s wrong, hate me?” the devil said casually. “Hating me won’t help. Let me tell you, everything you’ve seen is just an illusion. Your son died long ago. The moment you were exiled from Chishui City, he was executed by the new king. But the cultivation method you’ve been practicing? It’s just what you need to elevate your mindset.”
King Chishui stared blankly for a while, then slowly nodded and said, “Oh, okay.”
“Keep cultivating,” Yan Huan said impatiently. “In thirty days, I want to see your progress. Otherwise, your hands won’t be saved.”
Liu Fuguang sighed helplessly, “You chose the path of severing emotions for him, so his cultivation will indeed be quick, but…”
“I had no choice,” Yan Huan shrugged. “He’s such a failure. If he doesn’t hurry up and cultivate, how can he possibly stand against the armies that want to wipe him out? He’ll just have to make do. I can’t help him much if he doesn’t.”
Thanks for the chapter.