Chapter 41: Past Events

The Rebirth Curse is a spell that allows the caster to communicate with the consciousness of the target. However, this spell is far more harmful than beneficial and has long been listed as a forbidden art. If a celestial lord in the Nine Heavens were to use it, they would be executed on the Heavenly Execution Platform. Yan Dan had never been so grateful that she was a demon.

Yan Dan didn't think these bloody incidents had anything to do with Nan Zhao's background, so she turned to look at Liu Weiyang. "So it begins?"

Liu Weiyang sat on a chair to the side, one hand on the armrest, nodding slightly.

Yan Dan placed her hand on Nan Zhao's forehead, and a pale white halo slowly spread outward. She closed her eyes and felt the surroundings vibrating, while the sound of pattering rain grew clearer and clearer. After a moment, the sound of rain grew louder, rushing against the sky, blurring the view with rain and mist, leaving no stars or moon visible. Even the sky was gray.

Yan Dan felt a jolt, and the sound of rain was mixed with the neighing of horses and the cracking of the coachman's whip. A pair of gentle arms slowly embraced her, and a woman's soft, sweet voice echoed in her ear. "Zhao'er, just bear with it a little longer, we'll find a doctor soon..."

She was looking back on these past events through Nan Zhao's eyes.

Yan Dan said softly, "I saw... Nan Zhao and his mother traveling in the heavy rain. Nan Zhao seemed to be sick, and they were looking for a doctor."

"What time was it? What was the weather like that day?" Liu Weiyang straightened up slightly.

"It was raining, very heavily, and the sky was a hazy gray. It was around nightfall..." Yan Dan paused. "Someone came up from behind, and the carriage stopped."

She felt the moment the carriage slowly came to a stop. The woman who had spoken so gently in her ear suddenly released her embrace and lightly touched her cheek. The woman's fingers were cold and trembling slightly. Yan Dan thought this was definitely not just because Nan Zhao was sick and his face was burning. She opened her eyes wide, trying to make out the woman's face, but her features were blurry and indistinct, as if shrouded in mist. She could only make out that the woman wore a lake-blue silk blouse, the cuffs and collar embroidered with delicate gold lace.

The woman seemed to smile sadly, her voice low and menacing. "Zhao'er, remember this: those who chased after you today are the murderers who killed your parents. You must see each of their faces clearly."

Yan Dan's hair stood on end, and she felt herself respond in a barely audible voice. All of this was happening to Nan Zhao, and she was only temporarily using Nan Zhao's consciousness to witness it, yet she still felt an indescribable chill.

"Zhao'er, you must live well..." After saying this, the woman suddenly lifted the carriage curtain, swaying her hips gracefully as she stepped down. The curtain was hooked up in a corner, and Yan Dan, lying on the cushion, could still clearly see everything happening outside.

Suddenly, the woman spun around, crashing headlong into a long sword. The crimson blood, still fresh, was instantly washed away by the rain. Clutching the sword piercing her heart, she suddenly laughed fiercely. "You will all get your retribution! I curse you to never be buried in a coffin after death, your souls scattered, never to be reincarnated! Your children will suffer the same fate as me today!"

Her hair was soaked, her lake-blue silk robe stained beyond recognition by mud and blood, making her look like a vengeful ghost crawling from the nameless flames of the underworld. Her voice was stern, each word chilling.

Suddenly, she abruptly took a step back, the long sword slipping from her body. She swayed twice, then collapsed to the ground. Yan Dan peeked through the gap in the carriage curtain and saw the woman struggle to lift her head, staring into her eyes. Her once beautiful lips were ashen, like withered flowers, and with all her might, she silently uttered two words:

Revenge.

Yan Dan finally saw the woman's face clearly—it was exactly the same as the one in the portrait. Willow-leaf eyebrows like crescent moons, eyes like flowing water—but the expression on her face was indescribably terrifying and twisted. She mouthed to Nan Zhao, "Revenge." Her last words to her child in this world were revenge.

"It seems this is their child..." A rough, large hand reached out. "They have a fever, and they all look dazed—they seem to be delirious."

Yan Dan struggled to make out who the person before her was. The person was quite young, with calloused hands, broad shoulders, and between their brows... a prominent black mole!

She slowly said, "There were three people who caught up with the carriage. One of them was Master Fayun—I saw the black mole between his eyebrows. The second was Yilan's father; his appearance then wasn't much different from now... The last one, I can't see clearly, it's too dark..."

Liu Weiyang had already stood up from his chair, his tone becoming somewhat urgent. "Look more closely, isn't it—"

Before he could finish speaking, Yan Dan interrupted, "It's Shui Xing's father!"

Liu Weiyang was silent for a moment, then said calmly, "That's enough. Knowing that this happened is enough."

Yan Dan stopped her spell, her mind replaying the expression of the beautiful woman before her death. Suddenly, she saw Liu Weiyang walk over, wrap Nan Zhao in a blanket, sling it over his shoulder, and turn to leave.

"Where are you taking him?"

"Take him back to his room."

Nan Zhao had been living with Shui Xing's family. She hadn't known about this past, but now that she'd witnessed it, she felt it was like sending a lamb to the slaughter. "How can this be? He's living under the same roof as his enemy!"

"We've lived together for so many years without incident, and there won't be any now." Liu Weiyang's steps were light, and in the blink of an eye, even his back was out of sight.

Yan Dan looked at Tang Zhou, then at Yu Mo, and couldn't help but ask, "You don't actually think Nan Zhao is the murderer who killed three people, do you?"

Tang Zhou stood up and walked out without a word.

Yu Mo set down his teacup and slowly said, "The night Fayun died suddenly, Nan Zhao was also at Fuyun Temple. And the only weapon he could access was an unsharpened sword used for martial arts practice. Now we've even found the reason for his actions, isn't that right?"

Yan Dan briefly recalled the events and then asked, "But how do you explain that 'curse'?"

"Before that lady passed away, didn't she say that she cursed them to be scattered and never reincarnated after death?" Yu Mo stood up, and as he approached, he reached out and stroked her profile, lowering his voice. "Yan Dan, there are many things that you can't control. The more you invest in something, the greater the disappointment."

Yan Dan looked up. His eyes were dark and unfathomable, vaguely familiar. It seemed that a long, long time ago, she had seen similar eyes.

Some things are beyond their control—three parts fate, seven parts human effort. The more you believe in something, the more sorrow it brings in the end.

Yan Dan understood this principle.

She had paid the most painful price to understand this truth.

However, the location and posture of her current profound reflection on life were somewhat inappropriate. She parted the grass in front of her and peered ahead. In the main room of Shui Xing's parents' house, candlelight flickered, and a long, thin shadow was cast on the windowpane, its shape somewhat eerie. Liu Weiyang had hurriedly left after dinner, and she had followed him all the way, only to discover that he was heading straight for Shui Xing's family. He was now waiting on their roof.

Yan Dan had originally wanted to bring Yu Mo or Tang Zhou along, but both of them believed that doing something like eavesdropping in someone else's house was too shameful, and no amount of persuasion could change their minds. While valuing face a little is sometimes good, valuing it too much can rob you of much enjoyment. For example, Liu Weiyang must have noticed her following him early on, but unable to shake her off, he had simply pretended not to see her and let her go.

As the moon slowly climbed overhead, her legs grew tired from squatting. Just as she was about to move, she heard a rustling sound approaching from behind, and a faint figure swept past her about six or seven steps away.

It's here after all!

Yan Dan straightened up, held her breath, and saw the slender figure in a light lake-blue silk robe brushing against the grass. In the blink of an eye, the figure was outside the main house.

Yan Dan froze. She clearly remembered that this robe was exactly the same as the one Nan Zhao's mother had worn before her death, even the gold thread embroidered on the sleeves was identical.

Before she could remain stunned for long, the figure opened the door and slipped inside. Almost simultaneously, Liu Weiyang leaped down from the roof and burst through the door. Yan Dan couldn't help but think, "Has Palace Master Liu gone mad? He could have easily skipped the time it took him to leap from the roof and enter—he could have just smashed through the roof and descended from the sky. How spectacular and eye-catching that would have been!"

Because of this thought, she completely overlooked the fact that if he were to fall from the sky, it would be tantamount to clearly telling the other party that someone had been spying on them from the rooftop for a long time.

Without delay, Yan Dan stood up and rushed to the main house door. She saw Shui Xing's father slumped to the ground, clutching his chest. Blood seeped from between his fingers, but not much—there was no sign of the previous horrific spurting of blood. He lowered his head, his face ashen, staring blankly at the painting before him. In the painting, a woman in a light lake-blue silk dress smiled gently, her expression lively, as if she might leap from the paper at any moment.

The window opposite was open, and Liu Weiyang and the mysterious figure from before had vanished without a trace.

Yan Dan frowned, walked up to the elder, and asked, "Where are they?"

The elder seemed not to hear her, still staring intently at the painting, muttering under his breath. "They've come back... they really brought the curse..."

Yan Dan, remembering the severed limbs and mutilated bodies she had seen in this room, felt a surge of anger. She grabbed his collar and pulled him up, saying, "You should have known this would happen when you drove them to desperation, to the point of ruin."

Shui Xing's father trembled, clutching the painting tightly, repeatedly saying, "How could we, the people of Luo Yue, look down on mortals? Yu Ling must have been deceived. Her mind has been clouded..."

Blood from his hand flowed onto the painting, slowly spreading on the yellowed Xuan paper. The person in the painting was clearly still smiling, yet there was an indescribable strangeness about her. Yan Dan picked up the painting and examined it carefully by candlelight. The person was clearly beautiful, yet there was a sinister and malevolent aura between her brows.

She remembered Tang Zhou saying that this painting was somewhat eerie. She hadn't paid it any mind at the time.

Suddenly, she heard a click on the windowpane. Yan Dan looked up and saw Liu Weiyang, holding a jade flute, leap into the room through the window. For the first time, he looked weary and said in a low voice, "That person still got away."

He slightly raised his hand, and a thin trail of blood ran from his wrist to his fingertips, with faint traces of blood on his sleeve.

Yan Dan was extremely surprised. "You're injured?"

She knew Liu Weiyang's skills. This time, not only had he failed to catch the person, but he had also injured his wrist, which showed how formidable the opponent was.

He casually tore a piece from his sleeve and loosely wrapped it around the wound. "I was careless. I thought it would be easy to stop him, but I missed by half a point when blocking that sword."

After he finished speaking, he sat down on the round stool by the table, propped his chin up with his uninjured hand, and said softly, "Yan Dan, fetch a basin of water and wake this person up."

Yan Dan responded and picked up the copper basin from the shelf in the corner of the room, scooping water from the water vat outside. Since she met Liu Weiyang, she had never seen him show any emotion, except just now, when the weariness and gloom on his face, illuminated by the flickering candlelight, seemed veiled in mist, hazy and unreal.

Yan Dan carried a basin of water into the main room and splashed it on Shui Xing's father with a dramatic flourish.

The elder was startled by the cold water, but his eyes gradually regained their senses.

After a moment's pause, Liu Weiyang said in a deep voice, "What do you plan to do with the corpse in the hidden compartment?"

Sensing his unfriendly tone, the other man stammered, "According to the rules of Luoyue, it should be cremated before being buried."

Liu Weiyang stood up and walked past him, casually tossing out, "Then we'll deal with it tonight."

Yan Dan had more questions for him, but Liu Weiyang just walked away without a word. She quickly put down the copper basin and chased after him, asking, "Did you even see what that culprit looked like? Who was that person? Could it really be Nan Zhao?"

She wanted to say that Nan Zhao's martial arts were terrible, and his voice didn't sound like the culprit at all. Besides, he had a high fever and was seriously ill the night his mother passed away—he might not remember what happened then.

Liu Weiyang continued walking, saying calmly, "Pack up and prepare to leave. As for the outcome, you'll know soon enough."

Yan Dan felt aggrieved and said angrily, "Then when exactly do you mean 'soon enough'?"

Liu Weiyang remained silent again.

She clenched her fists, unable to suppress her gritted teeth. "I really want to punch you..."