The Governor is Sick Chapter 132: Deployed Soldier Never Returning

Translated by Vivian of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

 

The sounds of screaming gradually ceased, and a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood were piled in the center of the pond, the three of them surrounded by the pile of corpses. The underlings walked out from the winding corridor, stepping on the assassins’ tattered bodies and blood as they slowly stepped forward. This was the worst hell on earth, but Baili Yuan was completely indifferent. It was as if her face had been frozen by ice and snow, her gaze as indifferent as if she saw nothing.

Xiahou Lian had just sighed in relief when more dark shadows suddenly emerged behind Baili Yuan. Expressionless white porcelain faces appeared from the snow fog appeared one after another, the long sabers in their hands congealed with a thin layer of frost, like frost and snow blades. Xiahou Lian with his group of three and the underlings raised their sabers at the same time and retreated slowly. Across from them, the ghost-like assassins set up crossbows amid the ruins, the tips of the arrow congealed with cold light aiming at the centers of the three people’s heads.

“How come there are still so many people!” Xiahou Lian said through gritted teeth.

“Because this was a death trap from the beginning.” Shen Jue sneered, “All of the assassins are here, this was an invitation to enter the urn ¹, and we’re the turtle in the urn.”

“Young Master, is there a way out?” asked Xiahou Lian.

“There is a way to die together,” Shen Jue said sulkily.

There were increasingly more assassins: behind the dilapidated doors and walls, behind the withered flower vines, next to the half-collapsed moon gate… The assassins gazed silently at Xiahou Lian and the others, like vultures staring at carcasses, waiting for their prey’s last breath.

“Gege,” Baili Yuan spoke in the silence, “I’ll give you one last chance, come here.”

Chi Yan looked at her quietly, not moving.

“Why?” Baili Yuan gazed at him. “Do you hate me this much?”

“I want to fulfill the abbot’s wish,” said Chi Yan.

“Then what about my wish?”

Chi Yan fell silent.

Baili Yuan suddenly laughed. “What a pity, Chi Yan-gege, you love so many people, but you only don’t love me.” Her smile clearly contained sorrow, yet it turned into ferociousness inch by inch. “Okay, Chi Yan, listen up, the killing field of Xue Mountain is the killing field that I, Baili Yuan, carefully arranged for you all. Even if each one of you can withstand thousands of troops, you definitely won’t be able to leave this place alive.

“Chi Yan, after you die, I’ll freeze you on Xue Peak and we’ll be companions forever, unable to separate even after death. Xiahou Lian, I’ll take your corpse to the South Sea, crush your bones, and scatter your ashes. You and your brother will never be able to see each other!”

“You’re crazy, Baili Yuan.” Xiahou Lian said, “Your revenge is meaningless.”

“Is that so?” Ridicule was hidden in the corners of Baili Yuan’s mouth. “Xiahou Lian, I haven’t finished speaking yet, do you know what my punishment for Shen Jue will be? Shen Jue, I won’t kill you, you’ll live on, the same as me, living on alone!”

Xiahou Lian was abruptly shocked. 

He turned his eyes to look at Shen Jue. The man was standing next to him, the side of his face still with a cold and quiet appearance, without expression. Snowflakes landed between his brows and on his eyes, as if covering him with a layer of sorrowful frost; his entire person was congealed into ice and snow, and even the light in his eyes was frozen.

“What are you looking at me for?” Shen Jue glanced sideways at him and turned his head.

“Young Master…” Xiahou Lian murmured.

There was indescribable pain in his heart, like dried farmland, wrinkled and creased.

“So you understand now?” Shen Jue lowered his eyes and brushed the snowflakes on Jingtie. “To me, the biggest punishment is not death, nor is it having my bones crushed and ashes scattered. It is you dying, and me living.”

“Your arm was sliced by yourself?” Xiahou Lian asked, “To get rid of the anesthetic?”

“Mn.”

“…”

Xiahou Lian gazed at the snow-white ruins that filled the world. The blood-colored pond had also been covered once again by snow, and a pale frost had formed on the severed limbs and remains of the deceased assassins, their lifeless pupils reflecting the distant dome. Amid the drifting snowflakes, he smelled the scent of human blood; in his cruel and short years, this rusty smell had followed him to this day.

“Young Master…” The corners of Xiahou Lian’s mouth tugged. “Why don’t you understand? You and I are different. If people like us die then we die, being buried in a remote location is nothing. But you’re different. Even if you die, you’ll lie in a large gold-painted coffin wrapped in jade, eating offerings and receiving worshiping, very lively. How can you be the same as us, dying in a nameless place and becoming a nameless ghost?”

Shen Jue was silent.

Xiahou Lian said sadly, “I already owe you too much. If it weren’t for Garan, you would be the honest official Lord Xie Jinglan who is praised by everyone, and if it weren’t for Xiahou Lian, you would be the overwhelmingly powerful governor of the Eastern Depot, Shen Jue. Young master, I owe you so much, how can I repay it?”

“You don’t need to repay it,” said Shen Jue.

He turned his head, his gaze piercing through the fluttering snowflakes and landing in Xiahou Lian’s eyes. “You don’t need to repay it. A-Lian, whether I am Xie Jinglan or Shen Jue, a life with you is my best life.”

The snow rustled, and at this moment, it seemed extraordinarily distant and vast, as if thousands of troops were burrowing into Xiahou Lian’s heart.

“Have you two finished saying your last words?” Baili Yuan stood up from the beam, towering over and looking down at them. “If you’re done speaking, then die.”

“Baili Yuan!”

Xiahou Lian looked at her distantly, putting Bushenglian across his chest. Chi Yan and Shen Jue stood behind Xiahou Lian. They looked at Baili Yuan across the disorderly curtains of snow, their gazes congealing one another like frost and snow.

“Your revenge is indeed frightening.” Xiahou Lian stared at Baili Yuan as he enunciated, “But whether our bones are buried in the snowy wilderness or we wander alone, our souls, companions, and closest loved ones will surely return again on days of heavy snowfall. Baili Yuan, this is the curse of the countless ancestors of Garan of Seven Leaves whose bones have been buried in the snowy wilderness, and this is also our oath.”

Snow and wind whirled in the air above the ruins, like the howls of mourning souls. The assassins gazed at them silently, icy snow congealing on their fingertips as the cold light on the crossbow arrows trembled slightly in the snow fog. 

Baili Yuan looked at them indifferently, and the ridicule at the corners of her mouth slowly deepened, as if they were beneath contempt. 

In the depths of the ruins, an assassin’s voice suddenly sounded. “Xiahou Lian, this is the reason why you came even though you knew you would certainly die?” A man walked out from the snow fog and took off his white porcelain mask, revealing a face Xiahou Lian was familiar with.

It was Shu Qing.

“I really don’t understand you sometimes, you were clearly already carefree, why did you return to seek your death?” The corners of Shu Qing’s tugged, and he smiled sorrowfully. “Is it because you think that you already won’t be able to live long, so you might as well die, ending all of your troubles.”

“Because this is the wish of many people, and this is also my own wish.” Xiahou Lian looked down at his own palms and said, “Shu Qing, before in Shen Manor, you said that I received the antidote to Mid-July and defected from Garan. I didn’t, there was never an antidote from start to finish. Chi Yan and I were two sabers from the beginning, forged in order to destroy Garan. The medicine that the abbot fed us could only let us temporarily get rid of Mid-July, yet it also eternally dooms our bodies.”

Shu Qing was stunned and lifted his eyes, looking at him blankly, and then looked at Chi Yan. He knew that Chi Yan wouldn’t lie.

Chi Yan nodded lightly.

An assassin asked, “Aren’t you two Shi Xin’s sons?”

“Yes, he probably felt that sons are supposed to repay their father’s debts, so he gave us the matters he didn’t complete at the time to finish.” Xiahou Lian looked down at Bushenglian and smiled indifferently. “Being incarnated as his son was probably the worst thing in this life of mine.” He looked at Shu Qing. “Actually, there wasn’t much of a choice from the beginning, no? One side is lingering on with our last breath, and one side is our soul returning to our homeland, it’s one or the other. Shu Qing, I didn’t have time to bring you to defect together at the time, so I’ll ask you now, what is your choice?”

The bleak and sorrowful wind whirled above the ruins. Shu Qing lowered his head, his hand that held his mask trembling. Eighty-one whips, Mid-July, Bliss Fruit… All of the pain turned into a heavy sorrow that was like crude iron, weighing on his shoulders. All of the assassins gazed at him silently, as if waiting together for his reply.

Baili Yuan sneered, “Kinnara, are you betraying me?”

“Yes, I’m betraying you,” Shu Qing said in a low voice. He threw it resolutely, and the white porcelain mask smashed on the ground, shattering the silence with a crisp sound like ice fracturing, the porcelain breaking into pieces. The sound reverberated in the air above the ruins, and everyone gazed at the fragments of the mask, not saying a word.

Shu Qing walked next to Xiahou Lian and handed a letter to him. “This is Shiqi-ge’s last letter. That day when I returned, I originally wanted to secretly rescue Shiqi-ge, but… I didn’t expect that Duan Jiu had already killed Shiqi-ge.”

Xiahou Lian silently took Tang Shiqi’s last letter, his hand trembling slightly.

“I…” Shu Qing choked, tears slowly dripping down, “Shige, whether you forgive me or not, thank you. This time…” he looked into Xiahou Lian’s eyes, “don’t leave me alone in Garan again.”

Xiahou Lian looked at him quietly for a while before reaching out his fist and thumping his shoulder.

“Good brother.”

Xiahou Lian raised Bushenglian and gazed at the assassins in the distance, roaring, “What about you all? Everyone, the supreme bliss you seek is Baili Yuan’s lie. You’re all ghosts eaten by the tiger ². You’re devoured by the Baili clan and turned into the Baili family’s servants and puppets, is this the supreme bliss you want? No, this isn’t supreme bliss, it’s endless suffering that you can never be free from!

“Now, tell me, do you all choose to be Baili Yuan’s walking corpses, or…” Xiahou Lian enunciated, and on his face that was covered in blood, his eyes were as sharp as sabers, “come with me, be reborn in the Land of Bliss, and reach eternity together!”

Silence.

Only the rustling sounds of the snow were left in the world, like the whispers of mourning souls.

An assassin stepped out in the snow and walked behind Xiahou Lian. He smashed his mask in the snow, the icy porcelain surface fracturing into pieces.

“Asuras, Sky-Spider Cutter, defecting!”

Immediately afterward, another assassin stepped out slowly and smashed his mask. Then was a third, fourth, and more and more assassins gathered behind Xiahou Lian. Looking over from a distance, they were like dense and black tidewater spreading across the white snow, surging behind Xiahou Lian.

“Garudas, River Sorrow, defecting!”

“Mahoragas, Bitter-Leafed Saber, defecting!”

“Kinnaras, Dragon Sparrow, defecting!”

Beneath the ice and snow, there seemed to be a deeply ingrained killing intent recovering from a deep sleep, a killing intent that came from faraway ancient times. The assassins revealed their faces; some were determined and some were young, some were dark and some were pale, some were talented and some were ordinary. At this moment, all of their faces contained a resolution like tigers and wolves, because they had already given up their lives, voluntarily walking toward unknowable destruction. 

After a while, nearly half of the assassins had already gathered behind Xiahou Lian. The dark and dense crowd stood by the pond, distantly standing opposite from the assassins on Baili Yuan’s side. The deeply ingrained killing intent spread in the snow and wind; beyond everyone’s expectations, this fierce battle had turned into a fight between evil spirits, a duel between demons.

There was an insuppressible surge at the bottom of Xiahou Lian’s heart, and killing intent rushed like a tide in his bloodstream. He slowly gripped Bushenglian tightly, the patterns on the saber hilt rubbing his hand to be burning hot.

“Xiahou Lian,” Shen Jue put a hand on his shoulder, “stay calm. You’re not alone now, you’re the leader of the assassins.”

Chi Yan reminded in a low voice, “You are the new abbot.”

Xiahou Lian was stunned, and in his daze, he seemed to see Shi Xin’s pale and old face amid profusely falling leaves. 

It turned out that he had still walked onto this path in the end, like the inevitability of fate. 

Xiahou Lian lifted his eyes, killing intent as resolute and cold as steel instantly emerging.

“Souls of Garan’s ancestors, protect my advance, reborn in the Land of Bliss, and return to eternity together.” Xiahou Lian roared loudly, “Gentlemen, go with me!”

The assassins drew their sabers at the same time, the saber lights splashing profusely like snow.

“Go!”

“Go!”

“Go!”

Their voices were like a swelling tide and sweeping heavy snow.

Baili Yuan stood amid the pale ruins and extended her index finger straight at Xiahou Lian and the others, like the strict judgment of hell’s Yama.

“Very good, in that case, I’ll grant your wish.” Baili Yuan smiled ferociously. “Everyone, hear my order——kill!”

Ten thousand arrows were shot at once! On both sides, sharp arrows were as chaotic as rain. The crossbow arrows were instantly used up, so everyone advanced and drew their sabers. Two black tides collided together, tearing at each other like wild beasts. Snow-white saber light mingled with bright red blood and flesh, and as snowflakes swirled and fluttered amid the net of sabers, they were tainted red by blood at the same time, unable to distinguish between snowflakes and sprays of blood. Xiahou Lian spread round chops in the fierce battle, the light of his saber densely weaving out, and all of the black clothes, blood, and flesh in front of him were cut into pieces.

But it still wasn’t fast enough!

Baili Yuan’s figure clothed in white and red slowly disappeared at the end of his vision, the snow fog concealing any traces of her.

“Xiahou Lian, we’ll clear the way for you!” the assassins shouted.

The assassins roared and lunged forward, one surge after another. When the people in the front fell under the blades of their opponents, the people in the back stepped on their companions’ bodies to lunge forward again. Amid the chaotic black tide, they squeezed out a line of blood with difficulty, and everyone gritted their teeth as they maintained it. Xiahou Lian turned around and looked over across the rain of blood. Chi Yan was chopping off the head of a man wearing a mask, blood spraying onto his tranquil cheeks. Shen Jue leaned to the side to let an assassin pass and drew his saber at the same time, sending it into his abdomen.

“Go! Xiahou Lian!” The assassins were roaring, “Bring the wishes of those who already passed and those who have not, the wishes of all of us, and kill Baili Yuan!”

Amid the sounds of fighting, Shen Jue turned his eyes back. The uplifted tips of his eyes were stained with blood, cruelly gorgeous.

“Go,” Shen Jue said, “if you live, I will find you. If you die, I will accompany you.”

It was a promise, from the heavens to the netherworld, never changing in life or death.

Xiahou Lian didn’t hesitate. He turned around and ran into the vast snow fog.