Several more days passed, and Qian Xuelang gradually felt himself improving. He had been unable to see at all, but lately he could faintly make out light again, a sign that the poison was receding.
The demonic being had visited several times. Qian Xuelang had spoken with him twice and found his temperament remarkably strange, almost impossibly unpredictable. Ren Yijue really ought to meet him and learn what a truly troublesome person is like, he thought.
Yet there was something else about him that particularly puzzled Qian Xuelang.
At times the demonic being was violently savage, while at others he was gentle and cultivated. Once, half-conscious, Qian Xuelang had heard him teasing the nearby infant spirits and speaking to them affectionately, perfectly normal one moment, only to erupt in fury the next, as if he could not control himself at all.
At first Qian Xuelang supposed he was merely unusually sharp-tongued and difficult to get along with. Later it occurred to him that perhaps the being’s mind was impaired: when lucid, he spoke coherently, like an ordinary person, but when overcome by frenzy, he resembled a dying beast.
Though the man could restrain himself for now and had even kindly brought him here to heal, no one could tell what would happen if he lost his senses again.
Ordinarily Qian Xuelang would have felt no fear, but he was gravely wounded and the poison had not yet cleared. His visitor carried powerful demonic qi and was likely a formidable enemy. Moreover, the carefree infant spirits were here with him. However proud he might be, he was not incapable of recognizing his situation.
So Qian Xuelang gently stirred the water of the womb pool. Bewildered, the infant spirits crowded around him, reaching out their tiny hands to touch his cheeks and body.
Qian Xuelang stroked each little face and said calmly, “Next time that person comes, don’t go near him again. Do you understand?”
The infant spirits babbled a few sounds and snuggled against his cheeks. Plainly they had not understood.
Those he had not yet petted immediately bit Qian Xuelang’s fingers viciously. Qian Xuelang could make out only faint glimmers of light and could not see them all, so inevitably he missed a few. He frowned without becoming angry, gently freed his fingers, and stroked the omitted children until the whole group finally settled.
He had slept among these spirits for quite some time and had acquired some understanding of them. Unable to grow up, they naturally lacked any sense of avoiding harm or seeking benefit, much less any understanding of good and evil. They did not even know how to hide their likes and dislikes.
Trying to reason with children like these was like playing music to an ox.
Such fragile, innocent, tender little lives.
“Do you think they can understand you?”
At that moment a dark mass entered Qian Xuelang’s blurred field of vision. He could barely see a rather tall figure sitting beside him, with a straight back and erect posture. The figure seemed to turn its face slightly toward him.
An ordinary person caught speaking ill of another would feel guilty. Qian Xuelang felt none. “How will they understand unless someone teaches them?”
“Hah. Is that what you are doing? Teaching them?”
The dark figure leaned closer and stared at Qian Xuelang through the womb pool’s thin membrane. Qian Xuelang was never skilled at reading others’ expressions, and now, able to perceive only blurred shapes of light and darkness, he was even less aware of what the man was thinking.
“Is it really instruction, or do you sincerely want to escape from me?”
The demonic being’s voice grew colder and sharper, with anger already beneath it.
Qian Xuelang replied evenly, “What difference does it make? Your moods change without warning. You could restrain yourself the day before yesterday, and yesterday, and perhaps today. You might restrain yourself for the rest of your life, or you might suddenly fail one day. Isn’t that so?”
The demonic being sat stunned for quite a while before his entire body began to tremble. He was plainly furious.
Qian Xuelang was naturally grateful that the man had saved his life. If he were here alone, it would not matter so much. But the carefree infant spirits beside him were already souls lingering in this world. If they were utterly destroyed, that would be cruelly undeserved.
He ought not to have let the demonic being overhear those words, but now that he had, Qian Xuelang would not deny having said them.
The demonic being laughed in furious disbelief, his voice climbing. “Good! Good! You’re absolutely right!”
As his voice rose, his actions became rougher. Qian Xuelang felt a hand gripping his arm like an iron clamp, hurting him terribly.
Qian Xuelang could not see, but his sense of touch remained. He clearly felt the stranger’s hot breath against his cheek, and seemed even to hear blood surging under his skin and his heart pounding wildly. The man was much taller than he was, nearly covering him entirely. The sheer difference in size made him deeply uncomfortable.
“What good is a warning? Even if I killed them this instant, what could you do?” the demonic being asked in an icy voice. “And if I wanted to do something to you, what could you do about that?”
Qian Xuelang saw a vague shadow rise and guessed it was the man’s hand, lifted in fury to slap him. Instead, the hand came to rest lightly on his shoulder, and warmth suddenly pressed against his lips.
At first Qian Xuelang did not understand. Only when the stranger’s burning tongue forced its way between his lips did he realize what was happening.
Feeling and desire poured into him through that long, unwanted kiss. Qian Xuelang’s sightless eyes flew wide, and he raised his hand and slapped the man hard across the face.
The blow turned the demonic being’s head, and his teeth scraped Qian Xuelang’s lip, breaking the skin and sending a sharp, prickling pain through him. Qian Xuelang’s chest heaved with rage. Never in his life had anyone violated him in this way. He almost summoned Honglu, but the spiritual power inside him was in chaos; in his agitation, a bloody taste surged up his throat.
The demonic being was silent for a moment before asking slowly, “Even now, must you insist on your pride?”
Furious beyond endurance, Qian Xuelang sneered. “Demonic being, are you so incapable of getting along with others that you must twist their wills to suit your own?”
After a long silence the demonic being sighed, his voice filled with indescribable sorrow. He seemed about to say something, but in the end he simply walked slowly away.
Once Qian Xuelang heard him leave, he could restrain himself no longer and abruptly vomited blood.
Blood reddened the womb pool. The infant spirits began crying all around him, clustering around Qian Xuelang. Qian Xuelang gently pushed them away, utterly exhausted. “Stay back. There’s blood on me.”
Then he realized the blood had likely polluted the pool already. Qian Xuelang’s thoughts dissolved into confusion, and he suddenly lost consciousness.
In his stupor, Qian Xuelang saw Ren Yijue walking slowly toward him.
The figure looked at him with worry and sadness in his eyes. “Or perhaps, to the Jade Beauty, killing is simply enough. Perhaps you were lucky enough to stand above the clouds, judging others’ good and evil without ever becoming stained by the mortal world’s cause and effect.”
Qian Xuelang vaguely felt he understood something and wanted to speak to Ren Yijue, but the other man walked away looking terribly sad, leaving him strangely empty inside.
“Ren Yijue.”
Qian Xuelang called his name, but saw no one around him, as though Ren Yijue no longer wanted to hear him speak.
He stood helplessly where he was, unable to decide which direction to take. After thinking for a while, his expression grew weary.
Then his master appeared in the distance, his back turned.
“Master!”
Qian Xuelang’s spirits rose again. He went toward him, yet however far he walked, he could not close the distance. Suddenly he remembered: Master is dead. I must be dreaming of him. This is only a dream.
His heart instantly grew cold. But his master slowly turned and looked at him.
“A sage is not bound to things, but moves with the changes of the world,” He Tianjun said slowly. “Xuelang, now that you have entered the mortal world, what have you learned?”
Elio’s Notes: The maxim about sages adapting to the world echoes The Fisherman, a classical piece in the Chu Ci. Its fisherman counsels flexibility in the face of changing circumstances.
Qian Xuelang thought for a while. What had just been done to him was certainly unimaginable, yet thinking more carefully, he really had been powerless to resist.
As the demonic being had said, if the man wanted to do something to him, what could he have done?
Even if he wished to take revenge and make the man taste the same suffering, he would have to wait until he recovered. He did not know how strong this demon was, but anyone able to rescue him from White-Jade Skeleton could hardly be ordinary. Even at full strength, he might not easily win a battle amid Liuyanzhu’s demonic qi, let alone now.
How am I any different from those infant spirits?
Qian Xuelang paused. He felt he understood a great deal, though he could not find the words. “My skill was inferior. There’s nothing more to say.”
He Tianjun smiled faintly. “Xuelang, you’re behaving like a child again.”
He soon turned away, and Qian Xuelang silently followed him for an unknown distance before hearing He Tianjun ask, “You feel wronged, don’t you?”
Qian Xuelang remained impassive. “No.”
“That is precisely your childishness.” He Tianjun paused and glanced back. “From childhood you never cared what anyone thought. Whatever others said or did had nothing to do with you. That is why you could devote your whole heart to pursuing the Dao and travel so far along its path.”
Qian Xuelang said nothing.
He Tianjun asked, “What are you thinking about now?”
“The little snake,” Qian Xuelang answered. “I don’t know why, but I suddenly recalled what Ren Yijue said about him. Suppose he had been less fortunate and someone had captured him. If that person treated him kindly, all would be well. If not, he would have no choice but to submit in order to survive.”
“So you truly are not merely sulking.” He Tianjun released a long breath that might have been satisfaction or a sigh, then stopped. “You see? That is the cause and effect of the mortal world. You severed it, yet it entangled you again. Bound so tightly by it, someone of your nature ought to have cut through every strand. Instead, you felt a flicker of pity and were ambushed. Do you regret it?”
Qian Xuelang answered, “Things in this world do not always go as one wishes. Master, I have nothing to regret.”
He Tianjun chuckled softly, keeping the smile from Qian Xuelang’s sight. “Not even being taken advantage of like that?”
Qian Xuelang was suddenly embarrassed and could not reply.
He Tianjun fell silent and resumed walking into the boundless emptiness.
But this time Qian Xuelang could not keep up. “Master, Master…” he called.
He Tianjun never turned back. However quickly Qian Xuelang walked, he could not catch him. He could only watch his master’s figure slowly vanish into white light.
Qian Xuelang awoke, still immersed in the womb pool. The pool had expelled and cleansed the blood he had vomited earlier; its water was perfectly clear again.
He reached up and felt his lip. The wound had already healed.
When the demonic being kissed him, intense passion, profound despair, and overwhelming desire had seemed to rush into him all at once.
Qian Xuelang understood little of love and the fires of desire. He suddenly regretted that he had not been able to see the man’s face. If he had, he might know what expression the man had worn.
He was so furious. Why did he choose a kiss instead of a slap?
Does he love me? Or does he merely desire me?
Qian Xuelang slowly lowered his head, finding the question rather curious. Perhaps before killing this demonic being, he could learn a little more.