Chapter 108: The Meaning of My Departure (Part 2)
“Killing him would naturally be best, but what if we can’t? And don’t forget, even now, there’s still no sound from the palace. Perhaps… Her Majesty is also hesitating.”
Tianhai Chengwu gazed toward the direction of the Sweet Dew Terrace in the distance, his face showing weariness and melancholy. For the sake of that throne, he had schemed and prepared for over a decade. Yet now, it seemed the road ahead was still shrouded in the darkness of night. It might be painful, but he had to begin considering other paths.
“Father, aren’t you worried about what’s to come?” Tianhai Shengxue asked.
In recent years, the Tianhai family had enjoyed boundless glory, crushing even the Chen imperial clan and deeply rooted thousand-year-old houses like the Tang, Akiyama, Zhu, and Luofeng families into submission. If anyone claimed those families and the officials loyal to the imperial clan bore no grudge against the Tianhai family, no one would believe it. If the Tianhai family failed to ascend to the Great Zhou throne, when the walls came tumbling down, everyone would push—who would show mercy?
“He is my sister’s son; his veins flow with Tianhai blood. Even if he ascends to the throne, would he exterminate his maternal family? No. Whether his backer is Shang Xingzhou or the Pope, he will feel wary and uneasy, and in the end, he will still have to rely on our strength.” Tianhai Chengwu looked toward the distant Sweet Dew Terrace, his short beard fluttering gently in the night wind, giving him an extremely sharp and resolute air. “We are not Zhou Tong—once we lose our home, we won’t be hunted by everyone. So we must be more cautious.”
Tianhai Shengxue understood his father’s meaning, but… if the rumors were true, if Chen Changsheng truly was Crown Prince Zhaoming, then he would pose a threat to Her Majesty the Saint. Was it time to start planning for the future now? He suddenly felt the night wind in the garden grow cold, then remembered that this was already the bleak autumn season.
The Tianhai family’s current status was, of course, inseparable from Her Majesty the Saint. But as Old Master Tang often said while fishing by the Wenshui River, the Tianhai family and the Heavenly Saint Empress were never the same thing. The Tianhai family held many hidden strengths in both court and common circles. Even without the Saint Empress’s favor, no force could uproot this family overnight.
A truly far-sighted wise man would never stake a family’s future entirely on one person, even if that person were the strongest in the world. The Zhu family of Tianliang Prefecture rose to prominence because of Zhu Luo, and now they were on the verge of decline with that great one’s fall—this was a lesson, a warning to all families.
Moreover, no matter how great a person, they would eventually return to the sea of stars. Emperor Taizong died, Zhou Dufu died—who could escape life and death?
Countless people surged from the Tianhai family’s estates and the government offices under their control into the night, beginning to search for Chen Changsheng’s whereabouts. This naturally alarmed many, who then noticed the suspicious movements at that grim yamen on North Military Command Alley. Only later did they learn from the National Academy that the source of all the commotion—Chen Changsheng—had left the academy, destination unknown.
Warning bells rang from the Li Palace. Priests scattered into the night. Lights in the Sacred Hall were lit simultaneously, casting a strange, beautiful glow on the plum blossoms in the corridors. Two hundred cavalrymen galloped out from Maple Forest, their thunderous hooves heading toward the National Academy.
On this early autumn night, the situation in the capital suddenly grew tense, deadly and grim, with yellow leaves drifting down.
…
…
How to die—that was a question. Ordinary people rarely liked to think about it, instinctively avoiding it whenever it came to mind. Chen Changsheng’s life journey was not ordinary, so he had thought about it, many times, and had a very clear answer or attitude.
To live lively and die alone—that was what Zhe Xiu and Tang Thirty-Six guessed, but it wasn’t his answer. He might choose solitude when leaving this world, but before that, he wouldn’t isolate himself, lowering his head to lick his wounds in silence. His departure wasn’t to find his grave, but to do some things.
Zhe Xiu’s words reminded him: this world was indeed full of malice toward him, but some people in it had shown him much kindness. Before leaving this world, he had to repay that kindness and respond to that malice—that was what he must accomplish.
On this serene autumn night, the capital’s streets and alleys were filled with eyes from various factions. Cavalry from the court and the Church galloped at high speed along the main roads. Countless people searched for him, trying to kill or protect him. Yet by then, he had already evaded everyone’s sight, holding a yellow paper umbrella as he silently arrived at North New Bridge and jumped into that dry well.
The space at the bottom of the well was still pitch-black and filled with cold. His injuries not fully healed, he fell toward the unfathomable depths, his speed increasing until he seemed like a stone destined to crash into the earth. But just when he was still dozens of zhang from the ground, a thick, soft cushion-like aura appeared beneath him, greatly slowing his descent.
This had happened many times before. He showed no panic, adjusting his posture. When the aura dissipated, his feet landed steadily on the ice-and-snow-covered ground.
A faint light appeared on the dome of the cavern—a night pearl. Then countless night pearls lit up one by one, as if stars had descended here. A mountain-like black figure drifted over from afar, seemingly slow but actually swift, looking down at him from above.
Under the silver light, the Black Dragon’s eyes, larger than buildings, gleamed with a cold light, filled with violent emotions yet also giving an impression of utter indifference.
This meeting had happened many times, but this time was different. Neither Chen Changsheng nor the Black Dragon spoke. They stared at each other in silence amid the cold wind, the atmosphere oppressive.
No one knew how long passed before a dragon’s roar, full of fury, echoed through the underground space. The light of the night pearls scattered from the dome trembled. The perennial frost and snow on the ground swirled wildly, striking Chen Changsheng like whips, leaving marks both deep and shallow.
Chen Changsheng understood her feelings at that moment, so he silently endured.
The dragon’s roar gradually faded. The wind and snow ceased. The Black Dragon looked down at him, her eyes no longer indifferent, only filled with violence and rage, and a trace of… bewilderment.
“You… you… you’re going to die?”
After the dragon’s roar faded, a human girl’s voice replaced it, clearly flustered.
Chen Changsheng looked at the Black Dragon, finding it a stark contrast that such a massive being with such terrifying cultivation could produce such a clear, youthful voice.
“Yes.”
The Black Dragon grew furious again. Her tail, over ten li away, lashed toward the wall but failed to land, repelled by the formation on the wall, sending snow and frost flying everywhere.
“But… but…”
The Black Dragon looked at Chen Changsheng, pain flickering in her eyes—whether from the formation’s backlash or from seeing his sorrowful future, her voice trembled slightly.
“…you haven’t learned Dragon Speech yet.”
“I’m sorry.” Chen Changsheng lowered his head, then raised it after a moment, looking at her. “In this life, I might never be able to learn Dragon Speech.”
“Then… then… you’re not allowed to die.”
Chen Changsheng remained silent.
The Black Dragon said sorrowfully, “You haven’t kept your promises to me. How can you die?”
“I’m sorry.” Chen Changsheng apologized again. “I once promised you I’d find a way to rescue you from here…”
“Yes, yes!” The Black Dragon’s eyes suddenly brightened, and she spoke rapidly, “You haven’t rescued me yet. How can you die? I won’t let you die like this.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve already thought of a way to rescue you.”
Chen Changsheng looked at her and smiled, very happily and sincerely. “On the journey back from Cold Mountain, I had plenty of time to think. I calculated for a long time and confirmed we still need to start with the Time Scroll. Later, I’ll go to the stone wall and perfect the formation to ensure the Time Scroll’s Daoist power can sustain long-term transmission. But if we rely solely on the formation, it might take a long time to eliminate the seal using the power of time. So I suggest you start practicing the Time Scroll yourself—it might speed things up a lot.”
He suddenly remembered something and said, “Oh, by the way, I met Wang Zhice on Cold Mountain. But time was too short then, and I forgot to ask him about these matters.”
Hearing that name, even the Black Dragon, still immersed in the anger and sorrow of Chen Changsheng’s impending death, couldn’t help but pause. “That liar is still alive?”
Chen Changsheng said, “Though he didn’t admit his identity, it shouldn’t be wrong.”
The Black Dragon’s voice turned cold, filled with venom. “Truly, evil men live for ten thousand years.”
Chen Changsheng didn’t know what to say. From the Black Dragon’s perspective, she had been just an ignorant young dragon girl when she landed from the South Sea. Though she had committed many sins, being imprisoned for several hundred years should have been enough atonement. Why be trapped forever in this sunless underground? But from Wang Zhice’s perspective, as the Great Zhou dynasty’s strategist and half-guardian, he had a duty to protect the common people.
“Chen Changsheng…” The Black Dragon’s voice suddenly grew calm.
“Hmm?” He was puzzled.
The Black Dragon’s voice echoed, cold with a faint sadness.
“…You shouldn’t have been a good person.”
“…Why?”
“Because good people don’t live long.”
Chen Changsheng lowered his head again, looking at the frost beneath his feet, recalling the path he had walked through this world, full of frost, wind, and rain. He was silent for a long time.
He had always believed that people like Wang Po were the true good people. He definitely didn’t count himself as one. He was just doing what his heart willed, because that was the path he cultivated—following his heart.
It was a pity that life and death were determined by heaven and fate, never heeding people’s own wishes.
He looked up toward the Black Dragon, wanting to explain, but suddenly noticed the Black Dragon had vanished!
That mountain-like dragon body had disappeared into thin air!
Chen Changsheng was shocked. He looked around, trying to understand what had happened.
Then, he saw a little girl in the snow and ice.
She wore black clothes, sitting in the snow, her skirt spread out. Two thin iron chains extended from behind her skirt, stretching toward the stone wall over ten li away.