After the disciples dispersed, Ren Yijue walked to the tree and sat beneath it, tapping his fan idly against his knee.
Interesting. Very interesting indeed.
The story told by the Jiufang disciples had hardly differed from the Jade Beauty’s account.
And that affair had occurred sixty-one years ago.
Sixty years was enough time for a person to be born and die. The young Jiufang disciples who had just explained the case to him were probably not yet twenty.
It had been only sixty years since the Demon-Extermination War, yet Ren Yijue, born more than a decade afterward, had heard almost nothing about it. Time could be cruel. Not everyone could be like the Jade Beauty, who could simply say, without the slightest disturbance, “I happened to pass by when I was young.”
Ren Yijue had not asked the disciples to recount a bloody case from more than sixty years ago because he was bored enough to enjoy hearing the same story again. He wanted to know how people in Daihai now understood the massacre.
Sixty-one years earlier, the demonic calamity had been raging. A living, murderous demoness had supposedly escaped punishment with Jiufang Ce’s help. After decades of rumor, she could have become any sort of monster in the public imagination. Ordinary people might even frighten their children to sleep at night by saying, “Be quiet, or the demoness will come eat you.”
Once people’s understanding of Shui Wuchen had hardened, the filth thrown upon her reputation would not have stopped at the “Taishu Massacre.” People loved gossip, and they would inevitably turn her story into entertainment over tea. Embellishments would be unavoidable, until the original account became completely unrecognizable.
That was precisely why Ren Yijue had been curious about the origin of the title “Lady Jieyou.”
The Jiufang disciples hated and blamed Shui Wuchen, but beyond her half-demon identity, most of their anger arose from the fact that Jiufang Ce had been dragged down by her and had lost his future.
Yet these hotheaded boys, who loved reading popular stories, had told an account more than forty years older than themselves that, once their personal judgments were set aside, did not differ from the Jade Beauty’s by the smallest detail. Shui Wuchen had not even “killed” an extra half a person.
Wasn’t that remarkable?
Even in the mouths of disciples who despised her, Shui Wuchen had only one unproven crime to her name. For a demoness supposedly capable of killing without blinking, that was a rather unimpressive record.
After the Demon-Extermination War, half-demons and demonic cultivators had been hunted jointly by the immortal sects, and Bai Wujin had led the demonic cultivators to settle in Liuyanzhu. Yet that wave of killing had somehow never swept up Shui Wuchen, a half-demon living in Daihai.
It was almost as if everything concerning Shui Wuchen in Daihai had been preserved exactly as it was sixty years earlier. As time passed and people finally emerged from the shadow of the demonic calamity, they had begun to consider the possibility that she was innocent.
It sounded reasonable. But was it truly so?
After sixty-one years, the unjust and doubtful case still had no verdict. As long as the true killer remained unknown, Shui Wuchen could never completely escape suspicion.
As the saying went, a gentleman should not stand beneath a dangerous wall. Rather than believe Shui Wuchen innocent, it was safer to believe she was the murderer.
After all, the person who believed in her innocence had to shoulder the risk of that choice; the consequences of believing her guilty were borne by Shui Wuchen alone.
The current state of affairs had to have been brought about deliberately.
In Daihai, there was only one man who possessed both the power and the motive to do so: the Jiufang clan’s intended heir, Shui Wuchen’s husband, Jiufang Ce, who had once flown into a rage for the woman he loved over sixty years ago.
At last Ren Yijue’s fan came to rest on his knee. Having worked out the connection, he closed his eyes in relief.
The next day, the group resumed its journey.
When Ren Yijue set out to win someone’s friendship, few in the world could withstand him, least of all young people who had only just emerged into the wider world.
In scarcely a day, all twenty-odd Jiufang disciples had fallen under Ren Yijue’s charm. They practically treated him as an elder of their own clan, and the journey grew much livelier.
Tidewatch Pavilion was not far away. After following the coast for more than half a day, they finally saw an exceptionally high, sea-eroded cliff. Indistinct among the mist near its summit stood a pavilion with cloud-wreathed windows.
“Look, Senior Ren!” Jiufang Shixuan turned instinctively toward him, delighted. “That’s the place.”
The sea cliff rose more than a hundred zhang. An ordinary person who wanted to reach the top would have to take a long detour, but cultivators of Qian Xuelang and Ren Yijue’s level had no need for that.
Throughout the journey, Qian Xuelang had kept a modest distance from the group, traveling alone. Only now did he slowly come alongside the others and raise his head to study the cliff.
“So that’s where it is.” Ren Yijue stepped forward to stand beside Qian Xuelang and smiled. “Thank you, young friends, for showing us the way.”
Jiufang Shixuan felt reluctant to part, but managed to hold himself steady. He was about to say farewell when the other disciples called out, “There’s hardly any distance left! Why not come along with us, Senior Ren?”
Jiufang Ziming was more attached still. “Senior Ren, you’re so knowledgeable. Lord Dingtao loves befriending cultivated gentlemen like you. Please come with us. If you go to see Lady Shui first… even if you’re old acquaintances, without someone to introduce you, it might be inconvenient.”
Ren Yijue smiled. “Thank you for your kindness. Before we part, I have one piece of advice to offer.”
It was clearly a tactful refusal. Jiufang Shixuan felt a little disappointed. “Please speak, Senior Ren.”
The disciples gazed eagerly at the gentleman who had so captivated them, wondering what wisdom he was about to share.
Ren Yijue’s gaze moved slowly from one face to the next. An extraordinarily tender, sweet smile appeared on his face, sending the young people’s hearts pounding.
“That day in the restaurant, it wasn’t the Jade Beauty who punished you. You may have spoken disrespectfully, but how could someone as heavenly as he is bother with a bunch of little children?”
“It was me.”
At those words, the disciples’ excited expressions froze, then drained rapidly into horror. Even Jiufang Shixuan went pale. He stared at Ren Yijue in disbelief. The empty medicine bottle against his chest still held a trace of warmth, yet his heart seemed suddenly to turn to ice, and a chill spread through his entire body.
Over the past two days, Ren Yijue had always spoken with gentle refinement and thoughtful warmth. Now he uttered such cruel words in exactly the same gentle, refined tone, making the disciples’ scalps prickle.
Several even took two involuntary steps backward, their faces filled with a mixture of fear and disbelief.
Ren Yijue found their reactions amusing. He smiled and turned to Qian Xuelang. Only then did his voice become truly soft. “Jade Beauty, shall we go?”
Qian Xuelang nodded. The two soared up the cliff, leaving the young people behind.
A splendid, elegant residence did indeed stand on the cliff, with gilded courtyards, jade halls, verdant groves, and jewel-like gardens, resembling a dwelling of immortals. The design must have taken immense care and effort. Its owner evidently had exquisite tastes.
Since they were visiting, they ought to enter on foot. Flying recklessly straight into someone’s residence, even leaving aside possible defensive formations, would be discourteous.
They walked a little while. Suddenly Ren Yijue laughed. “I wonder whether they’ll curse me behind my back.”
“You treated them so well. If they’re clever, they won’t,” Qian Xuelang said.
“Oh? I treated them well?”
Qian Xuelang gave him a sidelong glance. “You punished them a little, but the teaching you gave them over the following day was genuine. And when you left, you spoke plainly, teaching them that they must guard against others. You’ve done more than enough.”
“My, hearing you say that has quite gone to my head. Am I really as good as the Jade Beauty claims?”
Qian Xuelang stopped paying attention.
Ren Yijue could not get a second word of praise from him, but he did not seem discouraged. He reached out, not daring to take the Jade Beauty’s hand, and instead caught only a corner of Qian Xuelang’s sleeve, holding it tightly in his palm.
“Are you still a child?”
Qian Xuelang frowned as the tug pulled at his arm. He gave a little shake, but Ren Yijue refused to let go. Since it did not truly hinder him, he simply let them continue walking like that.
Ren Yijue flicked open his fan to cover half his face. His eyes darted playfully as he pretended innocence. “Hmm, that depends on whom you’re comparing me with. How old is the Jade Beauty now?”
Conversations with Ren Yijue seemed endless. He could always contrive some way to keep them going. Qian Xuelang simply stopped speaking altogether.
Looking at Qian Xuelang’s peaceful, distant profile, Ren Yijue felt a sudden ache of sorrow.
The Jade Beauty doesn’t care in the least what anyone thinks of him, he thought. Whether those Jiufang disciples like him, dislike him, falsely blame him, or even hate him, none of it matters to him. It probably made little difference in his heart whether I told them the truth or not. I was the one who couldn’t bear for him to suffer that injustice. I was the one who couldn’t leave their mistake uncorrected, so I insisted on speaking up.
In the end, I’m simply the one who has feelings. I’m the one indulging feelings that aren’t returned.
The Jade Beauty doesn’t merely refuse to lower his gaze to those children. I’m afraid he has never looked at the living beings of this whole world.
Will he… will he ever see me?
The thought sprang unbidden into Ren Yijue’s mind and startled him so violently that he felt as though a whip had struck his body. At a loss, he released his grip and let the smooth fabric of Qian Xuelang’s sleeve slip from his hand.
Ren Yijue was forever seized by passing impulses in such little matters, so Qian Xuelang paid it no mind. Before long they had reached the residence’s gates.
For some time they had heard faint music from within, the clear ring of plucked strings. At first they had assumed it was a qin or zheng, but now that they were closer they could distinguish the sound of a konghou harp.
The music suddenly swelled. The player seemed to be directing them somewhere. Ren Yijue hesitated, but Qian Xuelang pushed open the gate without a second thought, so he could only follow.
They went inside and found the residence entirely empty. Embroidered curtains and gauze hangings decorated the corridors, while moss, flowers, and trees filled the courtyard. A light breeze carried waves of delicate fragrance. Beneath the trees stood stone tables and stools amid fallen petals.
The paths through the residence were complex. Qian Xuelang followed the string music, never taking a wrong turn. At last they passed through one winding gallery after another and reached a small pavilion overlooking the sea.
The open pavilion had evidently been built for watching the ocean. It stood at the highest point of the residence. Even while approaching they could see the rolling waves and hear the changing tides, their rhythm mingling with the music in a pleasing way.
The two climbed the steps. The strings fell silent.
“Long time no see, Brother Xue.”
Ren Yijue turned toward the voice. Inside the pavilion stood a jade table bearing a konghou. Seated behind the instrument was a woman dressed in purple.
As he looked upon her face, one word sprang involuntarily to mind: commanding.