Chapter 77: Shadows Along the Nai River

                

Another day passed—Meng Ruji herded sheep, ate meals, and returned to her room to sleep, living an utterly ordinary life… because she had not seen Mu Sui.

For three days it was like this. Meng Ruji had not seen Mu Sui at all. He avoided her with precision, vanishing from every place she appeared.

She did not see him when she led the sheep out in the morning, did not see him while grazing in the grassland, and did not see him when she returned in the evening. Doubt began to gnaw at her heart.

Before leading the sheep out that day, Meng Ruji asked Madam Lin: “Is there no person named Mu Sui in this world? Did I come to Rui Wei Cao Yin alone?”

Madam Lin smiled, lifting her wooden board: “These three days, Mu Sui has fed his sheep early and returned before you. He has already earned three points. Miss Meng, if you do not work harder, you will have no chance at the thousand gold.”

Hearing this, Meng Ruji quickly led her sheep away.

Yet in the grassland, once again, she could not find Mu Sui.

“Where on earth did his sheep get fed?!” Meng Ruji fumed.

In the depths of mist unseen, near the Nai River’s edge, water and grass grew lush. But the mist was so thick that from afar this place seemed part of the Nai River itself.

Mu Sui held a rope, the other end tied to his sheep. The place was too close to the Nai River—without the tether, the sheep might plunge into the river and be swept to the heavens.

He lay upon a slope, one hand cushioning his head, gazing at the upward‑flowing Nai River. From his angle, the river seemed to engulf him, pulling him toward the nine heavens.

He emptied his mind, focusing only on the river’s flow, the scattered starlight ascending, and the whistling wind. Heaven and earth were serene and orderly—until suddenly, he felt heat upon his lips!

The backward‑flowing waters and ascending starlight twisted chaotically, transforming into Meng Ruji’s face. The wind’s whistle became her voice from that night—

“Do you like me a little more than yesterday?”

Mu Sui abruptly closed his eyes.

Here it was again…

These images and sounds had drilled into his mind for days.

No matter how he emptied his thoughts, no matter how he calmed his heart, his spirit refused to obey.

His spirit… always repeated that scene, those words, forcing him to relive the scorching heat he wished to forget.

He covered his lips with the back of his hand, rubbing harshly as if to erase the burn. But the force only made the sensation more vivid.

“Little Sui… I think you have…”

Meng Ruji’s voice echoed in his mind again.

So vexing…

Mu Sui sat up, irritably pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I think you have…” A male voice spoke beside his ear—real, not imagined!

Mu Sui opened his eyes, seized the intruder, and with an over‑the‑shoulder throw pinned him to the ground.

“Ah ah! Something’s wrong with you!” Mo Li cried, face pressed to the earth.

Seeing it was him, Mu Sui was startled but did not immediately release him.

“Why did you come here?”

“Haven’t seen you for several days, no news either. I thought I’d take a detour to find you two…”

At this, Mu Sui finally let go, sitting aside and wiping the ear Mo Li had spoken into.

Mo Li rubbed his arm, climbing up. “What’s wrong with you? Acting strange. Why herd sheep here? Where’s Meng Ruji?”

“Herding sheep on the other side.” Mu Sui’s tone was cold. “You are not needed here. Go back and wait.”

Mo Li was stunned. “More and more cultivators are coming from No‑Return Land. The mortal world outside is chaos, and you herd sheep? That old woman has you herding sheep? Just this?”

His voice grew sharper, unclear whether his anger was for the mortal world’s chaos or Madam Lin’s trivial tasks.

Mu Sui only met him with an indifferent gaze.

“Forget it.” Mo Li stood, patting his clothes. “I found the wrong person. Why tell you this? I should go find Little Meng instead.”

“Stop.”

Mo Li halted, raising an eyebrow.

Mu Sui tugged the sheep back from the Nai River’s edge, then said coldly: “Do not give her bad ideas.”

Mo Li’s brows rose higher.

“Which bad idea do you mean?” His expression turned sly. “Did my goddaughter listen to my suggestion and you…”

Mu Sui’s gaze pierced him like ice. “No matter what she does, it will not change my decisions. If you continue filling her head with nonsense, do not expect to sit idly by.”

“Is Qianshan Jun threatening me, trying to drag me into the fire?” Mo Li smiled. “But I have never feared flames. I have always lived within them.”

Always in the flames…

The words recalled Meng Ruji’s vow that she never intended to escape unscathed, that she was not merely the chess player but also a piece upon the board.

She… had almost admitted her feelings.

Mu Sui nodded faintly, falling silent.

Mo Li, seeing his dazed expression, smiled, flicked his sleeves, and sat back down. “I can see Little Meng has had some effect. Qianshan Jun, stop denying your feelings.”

“I never denied them.” Mu Sui tugged the sheep. “I only think your tricks are childish and useless.”

Mo Li studied him for a long while, then suddenly asked: “Qianshan Jun, have you ever seen the Human God?”

Mu Sui glanced at him.

“Since breaking the seal at the ice lake, I have seen no deities, including the Human God.”

“If you had, you would know how similar you look to her.”

“We should be similar.” Mu Sui replied indifferently. “When I leave No‑Return Land, more will come here too.”

Mo Li shook his head. “I mean you resemble the Human God of two thousand years ago—equally lost.”

He gazed at the Nai River, nostalgia in his eyes. “The war between immortals and gods lasted long. The Human God appeared from nowhere, led the immortals, won the war. The god clan perished, humanity prospered…” He glanced at Mu Sui. “Counting from when you slept in the mortal world’s ice lake, it must have been thousands of years until you awakened.”

“Mm.”

“Then you should hate humans.” Mo Li nodded. “But I am different…

“I am half‑demon. My father a nightmare demon, my mother a cultivator. From childhood I heard human stories—perseverance, struggle. My mother said the thousand‑year war was rebellion against the divine. The Human God was humanity’s hero, the totem of cultivators. But when I was born, she was only legend. So imagine my shock when I first saw her.

“I watched her slay a man‑eating demon, then rashly rushed over. I told her I wished to be her attendant child…” Mo Li laughed. “But I was long past childhood. Yet she did not refuse. She thought, then said to let me try.”

Mu Sui found this absurd, but did not interrupt.

Mo Li continued: “I followed her for many years. I learned her fate—‘Human becomes god, all things perish.’ I watched her grow cold under destiny’s weight.

“She told me how great sects devoured small ones, how powerful beings stole treasures, how beasts and herbs dwindled as cultivators drained heaven’s energy.

“She wished to stop it, but killing one brought forth two more. Then she wondered—were the gods right to want humanity destroyed?” His voice grew heavy. “And when she thought this, the first Netherworld Monster appeared, born of her.”

Mu Sui recalled the monsters at Xuejing Cliff, controlled by the Human God.

“She controlled it, cast it into the God Realm. Mo Yi felt she was walking toward destiny’s end. Yet she still did not wish to kill all humans. To encourage her, I made a bet. I said I would fight fate, and if I could, then she could too. Perhaps then we became true friends.” Mo Li smiled. “I created a dream for her…”

“Which became No‑Return Land. She gave you an inner core, for you to kill her later.” Mu Sui said. “You told me this before.”

“When she reached the step of ‘destroying all things,’ then kill her.” Mo Li pouted. “Old men always repeat themselves. Bear with me.”

Mu Sui turned his gaze away.

Mo Li thought for a moment, then continued: “Counting the years, you fell asleep at the end of the immortal‑god war. You must be at least five thousand years old now—you’re the true old man. My Little Meng got the short end of the stick.”

Mu Sui turned his speechless gaze back to him. “If you don’t want that mouth, I’ll help you sew it shut.”

“Please don’t.” Mo Li smiled, covering his lips, leaning back. “I haven’t finished my main point. I only want to tell you that I regret, and feel sorry, that before the Human God returned to the God Realm, I could not give her more good memories. If there had been… she might have delayed by a day, or even a moment, before walking toward her fate.”

“What use would that be?”

“She would have been happy for one more day, or one more moment.”

Mu Sui remained silent.

“My Little Meng may be doing exactly this now.” Mo Li’s gaze fixed on him. “Qianshan Jun, do not resist her so fiercely. If you are determined, like the Human God, to destroy the world, then before the apocalypse you bring, why not enjoy a few moments of joy?”

Mu Sui rose, tugging at the sheep that now followed obediently. He glanced at Mo Li. “I am lost, but do not think romantic feelings or worldly bonds can change my purpose. I do not need joy.”

Mo Li lay back, unhurried, feet up, shouting after him: “But what of my Little Meng? If she wishes to use my ‘bad idea,’ then she must have fallen for you! Will you let down her feelings?”

Mu Sui did not turn back. Leading the docile sheep, he walked into the mist’s depths.

“I am destined to disappoint.”

Meng Ruji stood at the sheep pen gate, arms crossed.

That day, while her sheep grazed, she busied herself more than the sheep itself—frantically cutting grass and feeding it directly into its mouth, nearly ready to insert a tube and pump it straight into its stomach.

After stuffing the sheep full, she hurried back to the pen. Only Ye Chuan was there, brushing a sheep’s wool.

Mu Sui’s sheep had not returned yet—this was good. Meng Ruji was satisfied, waiting with arms crossed, planning to catch him like a rabbit at the stump.

Just then, Madam Lin arrived. Seeing Meng Ruji had returned, she marked a point for her on the wooden board.

At that moment, Meng Ruji was not looking at Madam Lin at all. Madam Lin found her huffing expression amusing and asked: “Miss Meng and Qianshan Jun make a strange married couple.”

Meng Ruji shook her head. “I have not learned the art of managing husbands well. Madam Lin, you must be laughing at me.” Then her eyes brightened suddenly. “Madam Lin, you are experienced and knowledgeable, a woman of wisdom. Why not teach me a few tricks?”

“Me?” Madam Lin laughed. “I am not well‑versed in love. Back then, I only wished for a child, so I sought the most powerful cultivator for dual cultivation. After the child was born, I devoted myself entirely to her, with no nostalgia for romance.”

“Then… what of that cultivator?”

“Cultivators are pure of heart. He only needed me to help him break through. Once accomplished, we had no further bond.”

“…That was indeed… each taking what they needed.” Meng Ruji thought, then asked: “What of the child?”

“A girl of exceptional talent.” Madam Lin’s gaze softened. “I taught her, she learned swiftly, her cultivation soared… but… thinking back, I have regrets.”

Meng Ruji leaned forward, eager for more, but Ye Chuan, quietly brushing wool, suddenly interjected: “Time does not flow backward. What use are regrets?”

Meng Ruji found this strange, studying him, but he continued brushing as if it were casual talk.

Madam Lin glanced at him, then nodded. “You are right. It is all past.” She turned back to Meng Ruji. “Miss Meng, how have you been with this sheep?”

“Very well, it is docile.” Meng Ruji patted its head. “We get along fine.”

“Mm.” Madam Lin acknowledged, then said: “Then kill it today. I want mutton.”

Meng Ruji froze.

Madam Lin’s expression was indifferent, just as when they first met.

“Killing this sheep is a task.”

A strange itch stirred in Meng Ruji’s stomach, recalling the day she drank the cursed poison.

She knew this was no jest—it was command.

She looked at Madam Lin, who gazed back. Their eyes met, and Meng Ruji laughed once. “Fine.”

The strange sensation subsided. Madam Lin walked away.

In the pen, Meng Ruji looked at the sheep, silent for long moments, then sighed: “Sorry.”

“You could cut meat from it.” Ye Chuan said. “Cut meat, then bandage its wounds. Madam Lin eats mutton, and the sheep lives.”

“What of later?”

“Later, when she wants meat again, cut another piece.”

Meng Ruji stared at him, speechless for long, then asked: “Are you the King of Hell?”

“It could keep its life.”

“Keep its life, then cut it left and right every day?”

Ye Chuan looked at her seriously. “If this were a person, what would you do? Kill, or cut the meat?”

Meng Ruji met his gaze. “If it were a person, I would point the knife at whoever made the demand.”

With that, she struck at the sheep’s neck. The sheep fainted, collapsing between them.

Ye Chuan looked at it, his eyelids lowering slightly.

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