Chapter 139: A Cool Autumn Day
The strange figure that crawled out of the grave was the Black Robe.
Her methods were indeed formidable; she had managed to deceive everyone.
Yes, this cemetery was not an altar used to contact the Holy Light Continent, but merely a means to divert the Demon Lord's attention.
But this cemetery was indeed an altar.
The nobles who were sacrificed were not offered to the Holy Light Continent, but to the Abyss, used to aid in her resurrection.
This dark art was the greatest secret behind her ability to live for so many years, making her extremely difficult to kill or capture.
In the past few centuries, she had done this twice before.
While establishing the spatial passage to the Holy Light Continent, she had not forgotten to arrange her escape route.
So when Chen Changsheng broke through to the Divine realm and Su Li's sword came from the heavens, it truly disappointed and pained her deeply, but it did not drive her to despair.
As long as she was alive, there was a chance to make a comeback.
At that time, she had already prepared herself to be killed by the human experts, waiting only to be resurrected through the altar.
Who could have thought that Wang Zhice would not want to kill her, only to imprison her in the Galan Temple, even willing to fall out with the human experts over it?
This matter was truly ironic.
The Black Robe was not moved, only anxious.
The Demon Lord sensed her emotions and thus found a way to help Liu Qing kill her.
In name, he wanted to live and die with her, but that was not the case.
Although even the Demon Lord did not know what the Black Robe truly intended at that time.
It could only be said that the Demon Lord truly loved her.
……
……
The wind howled, and the snow shifted slightly.
Her gaze fell on the snow-covered ground, where she saw the few remaining traces of golden blood in the snow.
That was the blood of the Demon General.
The Demon General was her most trusted companion.
The body she was now using was personally selected and placed into this grave pit by the Demon General.
The Black Robe knew what had happened to the Demon General afterward.
She felt deeply sorry for it.
Until the very end, the Demon General did not know that she had deceived him, that she intended to destroy even the Demon race as well.
The Black Robe crouched down, dipped her hand into the snow to gather some of the already discolored golden blood, brought it to her nose to sniff, and then kissed it.
She stood up and walked up the snowy slope.
She had stayed in the grave pit for many days, only daring to come out after confirming that the human army's vigilance had relaxed.
During those days, she had eaten nothing but snow water and endured the torment of the bitter cold, so she was now very weak.
Most importantly, she now needed to cultivate anew, requiring dozens of days to regain some ability to protect herself, and it would likely take decades to return to her peak condition.
She slowly walked to the top of the snowy slope, looked out at the distant snowfield, and a smile appeared on her slightly decayed lips.
Thinking of the cold and hunger she had endured these days, she felt she was truly a remarkable avenger.
In the snowfield, she had prepared many hiding places and food; as long as she could reach them, she could find temporary safety.
Only after she recovered her strength would she return to Snow Old City—no, she would go directly south to her long-lost homeland.
She had already planned what to do then. The humans who had completely defeated the Demon race would inevitably fall into internal strife again, whether between north and south, between the court and the Li Palace, between humans and demons, or even between that pair of master and disciple—new conflicts would arise.
This was the inevitability of history, and also the weapon of patterns she would exploit.
The revenge would continue.
The Black Robe looked back at Snow Old City, a faint sense of melancholy rising within her.
Stories were usually written this way, with an open ending, waiting for a new chapter many years later.
But this story today was different.
The Black Robe prepared to walk down the slope and disappear into the vast snowfield.
Just then, a patch of snow bulged high and then scattered in all directions.
A very tall Demon stood up from the snow, casting a shadow over the Black Robe's face.
With just one glance, the Black Robe confirmed that it should be a member of the Pantagruel family.
The problem was that this Demon was clearly already dead, a corpse, only preserved from decay by the recent freezing cold, like a zombie.
How could a zombie rise from the ground of the cemetery and then lunge at her?
The Black Robe watched the corpse drawing closer, her pupils contracting, wondering what kind of ghost this was.
If it were before, the Black Robe would only need to flick her sleeve, or even just glance at it, to turn this corpse into dust.
But now, with her cultivation completely lost and extremely weak, she lacked this ability entirely and could not even dodge.
Boom! The tall Demon corpse directly crushed down onto the Black Robe, pressing her into the snow.
Whether by coincidence or intent, there was a hard stone in the snow, precisely propping up her neck.
With a soft crack.
The Black Robe's cervical spine snapped, and blood slowly flowed out, gradually staining the snow red.
Her eyes wide open, staring at the gray sky, filled with anger, despair, and a trace of bewilderment.
At this moment, she could not even blow away the snowflakes about to fall into her eyes, let alone push off the heavy Demon corpse.
She could only wait helplessly for death to come.
After a while, the heavy Demon corpse rolled off to the side on its own.
With a tearing sound, a split appeared in the corpse's chest and abdomen, and a person slowly crawled out from inside.
That person wore very thin clothing, covered in blood and filth, very gaunt, with a pale face, emitting a foul stench.
Whether because he had used up his last strength, the person breathed heavily, lying motionless on the snow right beside the Black Robe.
The Black Robe turned her head with difficulty, looked at him, and asked, "Who are you?"
That person's voice was very soft and hoarse, having not drunk water for several days.
"My name is Zheshe."
The Black Robe knew who Zheshe was and remained silent.
The cold wind howled across the snowy slope; in the distance, cavalry passed by, and no one noticed that on top of the slope, two people lay quietly side by side.
If someone looked down from above, they might find the scene somewhat beautiful, like a pair of lovers who had died together.
Unfortunately, that was not the truth.
After an unknown amount of time, the Black Robe let out a faint sigh and asked, "How did you know?"
This naturally referred to how Zheshe had guessed that she would use this corpse in the cemetery to resurrect.
Zheshe said, "I didn't know what you were planning. I just happened to see you here when I came to this cemetery."
At that time, the human army was about to break through Snow Old City. In such a tense moment, the injured Black Robe still had the mood to come to this cemetery, indicating that it was very important to her.
The Black Robe said, "So you've been waiting here all along for me to return?"
Zheshe said, "Yes."
The Black Robe said, "Didn't it occur to you that your assumption might be wrong?"
That night in the Demon Palace, she was killed by Liu Qing, and her soul escaped through the altar's power. But she did not leave in a hurry; she hid cautiously in the cemetery for dozens of days.
She could not think of anyone more patient than herself.
Moreover, Zheshe had no reason to endure so many days in this cemetery for a mere inference.
Zheshe said, "I wasn't needed elsewhere. I'm suited for filling in the gaps."
The Black Robe said, "What if I never showed up? Would you have waited forever? Until you truly became a zombie?"
Zheshe said, "No. When I confirmed you wouldn't return here, I would naturally leave."
The Black Robe asked, "How would you confirm that?"
Zheshe said, "In hunting, the most important thing is not experience, but instinct."
The Black Robe asked, "What if your instinct was wrong?"
Zheshe said, "Not every hunt is guaranteed to catch prey. You just come back next time."
The Black Robe thought for a moment and said, "That makes sense."
……
……
News of Zheshe's reappearance quickly reached the capital, along with an even more secret piece of information.
Only after reading the contents of the letter did Chen Changsheng realize that the Black Robe had not died, and then died at Zheshe's hands—this matter was not made public, because Zheshe made it clear in his letter that he did not need such honor, and for the sake of all considerations, it was best to pretend this episode had never happened.
So Liu Qing still believed that the Black Robe had died by his sword, feeling he had no further professional pursuits. After confirming that the court and the Li Palace did not need him to inquire about Cao Yunping's whereabouts, he ended his assassin career very calmly, witnessed by Xu Yourong and Archbishop Anlin, and began his old age.
Chen Changsheng went to the North Military Command Alley and met with Prince Chenliu.
At this point, Prince Chenliu naturally had no need to hide anything. He was calm with a hint of pride, showing no awareness of being a prisoner. Looking at this once-familiar friend's now somewhat unfamiliar face, Chen Changsheng finally understood why Tang Thirty-Six had never liked him.
—Prince Chenliu was a very calm and clear-headed person. He lived very deliberately, knowing exactly what he wanted to pursue in life. Thus, his desires appeared very open and aboveboard, which could also be understood as naked, ultimately manifesting as calmness. And this was the pretentiousness that Tang Thirty-Six detested the most.
Prince Chenliu looked into Chen Changsheng's eyes and said, "In another history, perhaps I would have won in the end."
Chen Changsheng said, "Maybe, because in that history, there was no me."
……
……
Four years ago, a new crabapple tree was planted in the small courtyard on North Military Command Alley.
Two years ago, the restoration of the Heavenly Book Mausoleum was officially completed. The riverbanks and bluestone paths damaged in the great battle over a decade ago and the conflict ten years prior were all repaired. Under the meticulous work of skilled craftsmen, they did not look particularly new, carrying a sense of restoring the old as it was.
Looking at the green forest, Wang Po thought of Xun Mei.
He walked up the divine path, and no one stopped him.
The pavilion had already collapsed and was not rebuilt. Han Qing was dead, and there were no longer any tomb guardians here.
He reached the peak, looked at the wordless Heavenly Book Stele, and was silent for a long time.
He turned around and looked down at the capital below, his gaze finally settling on the imperial palace.
A cool autumn day.
He turned and left.
He never came to the capital again.
……
……
Chen Changsheng went to the imperial palace and told Yu Ren the news of Wang Po's departure.
Yu Ren's expression did not change, but the expressions of General He Ming and the ministers were noticeably more relaxed.
After everyone withdrew, Yu Ren finally gave his assessment of this matter, or rather, of Wang Po himself.
"With the people in his heart, truly a national scholar."
Chen Changsheng's mood was somewhat heavy. Wang Po's departure reminded him of Shang Xingzhou's life.
"Master spent his whole life wanting to do just one thing. If he were still alive now, he would definitely be very happy, but perhaps... he would also feel very empty."
"Perhaps."
Yu Ren did not finish his sentence. He looked at the paper on the desk, shook his head, and said, "The brushwork is wrong. Rewrite it a hundred times."
The little Daoist, who was already resistant to calligraphy lessons, had tears in his eyes and looked pitifully at Chen Changsheng, calling out, "Senior Brother..."
Back in the old temple in Xining Town, if Yu Ren and Chen Changsheng made mistakes in copying texts, they would inevitably be punished.
Chen Changsheng had seen such scenes many times. He reached out and touched the little Daoist's head, smiling as he said, "He's the senior brother. I have to listen to him too."
Yu Ren said, "So, leaving at the right time is a very beautiful thing."
This was his answer to Chen Changsheng's earlier words.
Because it was somewhat sudden, Chen Changsheng was momentarily stunned before replying.
"Yes."