Chapter 379: Drunken Words Reveal True Feelings
Liang Hongzhuang looked at Su Li, his face expressionless, as if he were a dead man, and asked, "Why?"
Silence fell. No one could answer that question.
He laughed bitterly and said, "I thought that heavenly principles would eventually cycle around—that it's not that there's no retribution, but that the time hasn't come, just delayed a little. But in the end, there would be a result. Who would have thought there is no Heavenly Dao at all? Why can someone like you keep living well, and now, just as you're about to die, another one appears?"
Chen Changsheng lowered his head, not looking at him, his hand gripping the short sword trembling slightly.
"What did our Liang family ever do to offend you? What benefits did the Chen family of Tianliang give you? Why did you wipe out the entire Liang family over a decade ago!"
Liang Hongzhuang's laughter grew louder, the blood flowing from his body faster, his voice becoming more piercing. When he reached the last sentence, the accusation turned into a roar—the roar of a wounded beast, filled with anger and unwillingness, despair and pain, as if it wanted to pierce deep into the soul of anyone who heard it.
Chen Changsheng's head drooped lower, his face paler, his hand trembling more violently, as if he might lose his grip on the sword hilt at any moment. He didn't want to look at Liang Hongzhuang, who had gone mad, nor did he dare to look at Su Li. Because he was afraid that if he took one glance, he would feel an uncontrollable regret for what he had done, plunging him into pain and struggle.
Listening to Liang Hongzhuang's sorrowful accusations and watching Chen Changsheng with his head bowed, Su Li remained expressionless. What had already happened could never be changed, so regret or no regret was meaningless. There was no need for self-examination. Even if there were, it could only happen within his own heart; he absolutely disdained to explain anything to this world.
This was his nature. In the past, no matter how tragic Liang Hongzhuang's state, he would have left without changing his expression. Today, he also kept his face unchanged, but for some reason, before leaving, he spoke two sentences. Perhaps it was because Chen Changsheng's head was too low, and his hand holding the sword was shaking too much?
"When your Liang family's ancestors were emperors, how many people did they kill in the south? How many families did they wipe out?"
Su Li looked at Liang Hongzhuang expressionlessly and said, "As for wiping out your Liang family... if I really wanted to do that, how could you still be alive today? How could Liang Wangsun still be alive?"
His mood suddenly became a bit irritable. He turned to Chen Changsheng and said coldly, "Why are you still standing there like an idiot? Imitating loneliness or pretending to be desperate? Don't think that just because you saved my life, you have the right to lecture me."
After saying this, he walked toward the barren mountain.
After these days of rest, he was still severely injured, but he could slowly take a few steps.
The two hairy deer, having eaten their fill of grass, returned to the clearing. They looked at Su Li walking into the distance and Chen Changsheng still standing with his head down, seeming confused about whom to follow.
Chen Changsheng raised his head, looked at Liang Hongzhuang, and wanted to say something, but in the end, only two words came out: "I'm sorry."
Having finally spoken those heavy words, his heart didn't feel any lighter. He reached out and gathered the reins around the necks of the two hairy deer, then silently walked forward to catch up with that somewhat lonely figure.
The other side of the barren mountain was the south.
Liang Hongzhuang could no longer hold on. He collapsed to the ground, watching the two figures gradually receding, and shouted in pain, "Do you really think you can make it back south? If you keep following him, you'll die too!"
Chen Changsheng didn't look back. He continued walking silently with his head down.
Su Li walked very slowly, and it didn't take long for Chen Changsheng to catch up.
The hairy deer bent its front knees and lay down on the ground. He helped Su Li onto its back.
From start to finish, there was no conversation.
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After crossing this barren mountain and climbing two more barren mountains, the hairy deer stopped beside a grassy slope lush with green.
Chen Changsheng dismounted from the deer's back, rushed to the roadside, bent over, and began to vomit.
Su Li looked at him mockingly and said, "That guy isn't dead yet. What's there to vomit about?"
Chen Changsheng waved his hand, wanting to explain, but couldn't suppress the discomfort in his chest and stomach, and vomited again.
This battle with Liang Hongzhuang was the first time he had faced and single-handedly defeated a Star Gathering realm expert. If this battle hadn't been so ordinary and seemed somewhat understated, it might have been more worthy of its place in history.
But the price he paid was not ordinary. A battle that crossed realms was certainly not as understated as it appeared on the surface. Under the pressure of Liang Hongzhuang's star domain, he had also been severely injured. His bones felt like they were about to crack. Earlier, his body had been trembling slightly—that was an emotional issue, but also because his body really couldn't hold on anymore.
But the real injury wasn't physical; it was spiritual.
He didn't have Xu Yourong's talent for deduction, nor did he have a sufficiently powerful bloodline. His study of the Wisdom Sword had just begun, and he was forced to forcefully activate it to face the enemy, and he used seven swords at once. This was more than he could bear. The massive, even ocean-like and starry-sky-like infinite complexity of information intake and analysis directly drained all his spirit, causing his sea of consciousness to tremble until it was on the verge of collapse.
His divine sense was completely consumed by those seven swords, leaving his sea of consciousness empty and hollow.
A cultivator's body is a ship in the ocean of the spirit. Now that his spiritual ocean had dried up, that ship kept falling through the void, never-ending. This was a terrifying process. He felt that everything around him—the barren mountains and grassy slopes—were spinning and changing. The azure sky seemed to be falling onto his head, making him feel extremely nauseous, uncomfortable, dizzy, pained, and weak. It was like drinking heavily for seven days and seven nights, with strong liquor, even cheap liquor.
This feeling was very painful, very uncomfortable, and since it was a spiritual matter, there was no way to expel it from the body.
He vomited out all the roasted meat and wild fruits he had eaten last night and this morning, then his stomach acid, and finally, only watery substances came out. When there was nothing left to vomit, he still didn't stop. He began to dry heave, as if he would vomit until the seas dried up and the rocks crumbled, until the end of time, to show his attitude toward this world.
Su Li watched the vomiting youth by the roadside in silence.
After an unknown amount of time, he used the yellow paper umbrella as a cane and slowly walked behind Chen Changsheng. He slowly raised the umbrella and struck the back of Chen Changsheng's neck.
With a crack, Chen Changsheng slowly fell. Before falling, he used his last strength to ensure he fell backward, not into the filth he had vomited.
But he didn't lose consciousness. He still kept his eyes open, looking at the sky, in extreme pain and weakness.
Su Li said indifferently, "If you don't let yourself faint, you might go mad."
That blow had used up all the strength he had secretly accumulated these past days. He thought it might not be enough to kill an enemy, but it could be used to save someone. He hadn't expected the youth's body to be so resilient.
Chen Changsheng opened his mouth like a dying fish and said weakly, "Senior, there's a grass on the mountain."
"You're not going to write a poem before you die, are you?" Su Li said. "Don't be like that. It makes people uncomfortable."
Chen Changsheng raised his hand with difficulty, pointed at the grass, and said, "That's Hundred Day Drunk."
Just as Su Li had said, if this continued, his sea of consciousness might really rupture, leading to immediate death or turning him into an idiot. And most importantly, he really felt terrible and in pain right now. If he could keep his vision from blurring and see the white clouds in the blue sky, he would definitely take off his golden needles and knock himself unconscious. But he couldn't.
Fortunately, when he fell, he saw a grass that could make him unconscious.
Su Li understood his meaning. He picked the grass, roughly tore it into pieces with his hands, and stuffed it into Chen Changsheng's mouth.
Chen Changsheng finally closed his eyes. His face was still pale, and his eyelashes trembled slightly.
Su Li breathed tiredly a couple of times, sat cross-legged, glanced at the silent, uninhabited barren mountain, and placed his right hand on the umbrella handle.
After a moment, Chen Changsheng suddenly opened his eyes, looking dazedly at the sky.
Su Li's eyelids drooped slightly, and he said, "Still won't faint?"
Chen Changsheng said wearily, "The medicine hasn't taken effect yet."
Su Li said, "Then shut up, close your eyes, and wait."
Chen Changsheng said with difficulty, "But I have something I want to say to you, Senior."
Su Li was silent for a moment, then said expressionlessly, "Spit it out."
"Senior... in the future, it's better to kill fewer people."
After saying this, Chen Changsheng felt that he had finally done what he had to do. His mind relaxed, he closed his eyes, and fell into a deep sleep.
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(Children, holidays are a good thing, but you must take precautions and don't cause any fatalities. See you tomorrow. Tomorrow, I want to try to write over four thousand words.)