Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Grand Ceremony of the Five Nations Alliance (Part Nineteen)

Upon entering the pavilion, Gu Qiuci was leisurely sipping his tea. At this moment, he had removed his fearsome ghost mask, and though clad in black, the clothes could not conceal his extraordinary bearing. He possessed the natural aura of a sovereign, as though born to rule the world; his handsome features seemed as if sculpted by the gods themselves. His thick brows arched slightly, and beneath his long, faintly curled lashes, a pair of piercing, profound eyes exuded an unspoken, overwhelming pressure.

Chu Yue’e smiled gracefully and offered a respectful bow. Gu Qiuci responded with a gentle smile before turning to the old woman, “Granny, I must trouble you these next few days.”

“Seeing Yue’e brings me great joy; I will take good care of her,” the old woman replied, knowing they still had matters to attend to. She added, “Yue’e must be tired after the long journey. I’ll take her to rest.”

“Very well.”

Qi Guan, carrying Zhao Chen on his back, simply nodded in greeting. “Master, what should we do with him?”

Gu Qiuci gently brushed aside the tea foam with the lid, took a small sip, then glanced at the still-unconscious Zhao Chen. The corners of his mouth lifted into a faint, ambiguous smile. “The Grand Shaman must be bored in the Void. Zhao Chen can keep him company.”

“Understood.”

Gu Qiuci set down his teacup, donned the mask once more, and rose to lead the way.

“Master, he woke once on the way, but it seemed he couldn’t speak.” Qi Guan was puzzled; Zhao Chen was not the type to remain silent and let himself be handled so easily.

“I gave him Silent Spirit Seeds.”

“Silent Spirit Seeds? What are those?”

“A drug that renders a person mute after ingestion.”

“So he’ll be mute for life?”

“No. The antidote will restore him.”

“Oh. There’s something I’ve wondered about… I’m not sure if I should ask.”

“Speak freely.”

“Was Liuyun Tower established by you?”

“No. The former master of the Grand Void Pavilion was a shrewd businessman and amassed many enterprises, including Liuyun Tower.”

Qi Guan was astonished. “He truly was a commercial genius. Even without direction, Liuyun Tower runs smoothly, with everyone performing their duties perfectly, so the owner has no worries at all.”

As they spoke, the two arrived at the Void. Qi Guan, breathless, dumped Zhao Chen onto the ground, bent over and clutching his thighs, panting, “Too… heavy.”

The Grand Shaman, who sat cross-legged in meditation, slowly opened his eyes to observe them. A look of fear and venom flickered in his gaze as he glared hatefully at Gu Qiuci.

It was strange—Gu Qiuci had done nothing to harm the Grand Shaman, merely confining him here, yet the Grand Shaman hated him with such intensity. And yet, Gu Qiuci himself had been so grievously wronged by the Grand Shaman that he was left homeless, forced to wear a mask to walk among men. Who, truly, had harmed whom? Who owed the greater debt?

Qi Guan gazed at the old man before him, who was neither quite human nor ghost, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, felt a chill crawl over him. The old man’s appearance and manner were imbued with an eerie gloom—yet there was something oddly familiar about him.

Scratching his head, Qi Guan pondered, then suddenly exclaimed, “I recognize you! You’re the Grand Shaman from Spirit Mountain!”

The Grand Shaman’s eyes glinted coldly. “So, you were present on the day the Crown Prince was sacrificed?”

His voice was low, hoarse, and chilling.

Qi Guan had indeed been there that day, though as a mere underling. Though his heart was heavy with regret and outrage, what could he have done?

Seeing Qi Guan lower his head in silence, the Grand Shaman continued slyly, “If even one person had spoken out that day, he wouldn’t have ‘died.’ Yet none of you did. You all say I killed him—don’t you find that laughable? Was it not the people who fanned the flames, was it not the people who killed him? You are the truly guilty ones. I was greedy, yes, but wasn’t this the outcome you desired, or perhaps even expected?” His words were sharp, laced with scornful laughter.

Qi Guan was stricken with guilt. It was true: the one holding the knife was the Grand Shaman, but weren’t they all accomplices? They had watched without lifting a finger, tacitly endorsing the act. He looked at Gu Qiuci, opened his mouth, but could not utter a single word.

“Humans are selfish creatures; when disaster looms, they think only of themselves. I cannot blame you for that. He was the Crown Prince—dying for the people was his duty. But why did none of you weep for him? Ha! Such is the world’s cold indifference, such is its numbness—am I the only one thus numbed?” The Grand Shaman’s face darkened as he spoke, each word as heavy as stone.

In Gu Qiuci’s cold eyes, a sudden flame seemed to ignite, but it faded almost instantly. He ignored the Grand Shaman, crouched down, and tore the black cloth from Zhao Chen’s eyes.

“If you hadn’t bewitched the masses, how could things have come to this? You are the true instigator of all evil!” Qi Guan’s heart twisted painfully; he could not put himself in Gu Qiuci’s place, could not truly feel what he felt. Still, the guilt overwhelmed him.

The Grand Shaman sneered, “The world always needs a scapegoat to whitewash its innocence. I accept my role.”

Qi Guan wanted to argue further, but Gu Qiuci smiled with resignation. “There’s no need to waste words with him.”

“Grand Shaman, I’ve brought you someone who might relieve your boredom,” Gu Qiuci said with a meaningful smile.

With that, he dragged Qi Guan away.

After they left the Void, Qi Guan suddenly stopped, knelt before Gu Qiuci, and said, “I’m sorry.”

Gu Qiuci let out a low sigh, his heart awash with emotion. Perhaps he should never have let Qi Guan see the Grand Shaman. He turned, helped Qi Guan to his feet, and patted his shoulder. “Go rest. We’ll return to Liuyun Tower at first light.”

“Yes, sir.”

Not long after they departed, Zhao Chen opened his eyes to find the Grand Shaman staring at him. For a moment, he thought he’d seen a ghost, and was nearly scared out of his wits.

Looking closer, his eyes lit up with excitement as he crawled toward the Grand Shaman. “Grand Shaman, what are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to have ascended to immortality?” He finished speaking, but heard no sound from his own mouth.

The Grand Shaman, impatient, muttered, “So he’s a mute?”

Mute? At that, Zhao Chen frantically clutched his throat and tried to speak again, but no sound would come. No matter how he screamed himself hoarse, it was useless.

He collapsed to the ground, staring around in despair, only now noticing the endless expanse of white that surrounded them, with nothing else in sight.

The thought of Qi Guan’s betrayal made his anger boil over. Clenching his fists, he threw back his head and roared silently, his eyes bloodshot.

“Save your strength; it’s useless,” the Grand Shaman said irritably.

Zhao Chen looked at him, unwilling to give up. He gestured wildly at himself, mouthing the words, “Grand Shaman, don’t you know me? I’m Zhao Chen, retainer to the Duke of Yu!”

But the Grand Shaman had no idea what he was trying to say. After a moment, he realized Gu Qiuci would never have brought someone here without a reason—unless...

“Can you write?”

Of course—he couldn’t speak, but he could write.

Hope flared in Zhao Chen’s eyes; he nodded vigorously and prepared to write on the ground.

But then his face darkened, and he hesitated.

“Well, are you going to write or not?” the Grand Shaman snapped, annoyed.

Zhao Chen slammed his fist to the ground in frustration. He had forgotten—he was illiterate.

The Grand Shaman seemed to understand and, unwilling to waste any more time, closed his eyes and lay back to rest.