The young master sat quietly, without saying a word.
The old man smiled slightly and said, "When you made the green inkstone back then, I didn't give you this saying because I felt you didn't need it yet. Now, I'm giving it to you, hoping you will understand it well."
The young master kept his eyes down, his expression blank.
The old man glanced at the tea in front of him and said, "It's cold, drink it quickly."
The young man slowly reached for the teacup, then even more slowly brought it to his lips. He tilted his head slightly, parted his lips, and was about to drink the tea when the old man's face broke into a kind smile. Suddenly, with a "crack," he threw the cup to the ground. The jade porcelain shattered, the tea spilled, and the entire room fell silent. Only the rain outside continued to fall, growing heavier with each passing moment.
The old man stared at him for a long time, sighed, and poured another cup of tea for him. "That cup is cold, you don't need it. Try drinking this one..."
The young master suddenly looked up and interrupted him: "Teacher!"
"Have some tea," the old man said in a low voice.
However, the young master ignored him completely, his eyes gleaming with an extremely bright light, making him look full of power and no longer the weak and frail person he had been before.
"Teacher!" he asked urgently, "Who is Yin Sang?"
The old man's face darkened with displeasure. "A wise person shouldn't ask that question."
"Please tell me!" The young master stood up, half of himself passing under the small table. Boiling steam rose from the spout of the kettle, rising up his chest, but he seemed oblivious, still staring at the old man without blinking.
The old man lowered his head, slowly clenched his hands at his sides, and then said in a very sorrowful voice, "Wuhen, you know that those things won't do you any good. Listen to me, forget him."
A conflicted look flashed in the young master's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by determination. "I have the right to know who I am."
"You are Shui Wuhen, the eldest son of Qingyantai, the future master, and the leader of the righteous path in the martial arts world."
"But I am also Yin Sang, a person burdened with secrets, living in the shadows, right?" That last question, "Right or wrong?", resonated deeply. For a moment, his voice seemed to echo throughout the room—
Is it right? Is it right? Is it right?
The old man sighed deeply. So be it, what's meant to happen will happen; there's no escaping it. He could be fooled for a while, but not forever. "Yin Sang is not Yin Sang."
The young master was taken aback.
"His original name was Yi Liu, the tenth son of the current emperor."
A sudden clap of thunder rang out outside, thick clouds rolled in again, the world turned eerily cold, and torrential rain poured down.
The young master never expected that he had such an identity, and he couldn't help but stagger back a step.
"His mother was Consort Yin, who was deeply favored by the Emperor. The Yin family thus received great imperial favor and rose to prominence. However, just as you were about to be born, a secret report came forward accusing the Yin family of plotting a rebellion. At that time, the Imperial Uncle Yang led troops to search the palace overnight and indeed found a dragon robe under his maternal grandfather's bed. An informant immediately informed Consort Yin, and in her panic, the child was born prematurely. Knowing that she could not escape death, she entrusted the child to her trusted eunuch to be sent out of the palace overnight, and she herself would atone for her sins with her death. That night, a great fire broke out in the Tenglan Palace, burning for two whole hours and impossible to extinguish. The palace guards were busy fighting the fire, and the child was fortunate enough to escape."
Another thunderbolt struck, slicing through the air, and the young master felt as if his head had been split open by the lightning. A flood of memories rushed in, too fast for him to process them one by one.
"All the remaining members of the Yin family were wiped out within three months, except for that child, whose whereabouts remain unknown. Sixteen years later, an assassination organization mysteriously rose to power, not only manipulating the martial arts world but also instigating rebellions in three cities, plotting against the world. Its leader is that child from years ago, who named himself Yin Sang." The old man paused here, looking at the young master. The young master clutched his head, trembling violently, his body both hot and cold, as if he were being tormented by fire and water.
“I’ve said before that smart people don’t ask that question, because remembering it won’t do you any good.”
The young master reached out and grabbed the wall, trying his best to calm himself down, but his limbs seemed to have completely lost their own control, trembling uncontrollably.
Seeing his anguish, the old man's eyes deepened with sorrow, and he said softly, "Wuhen, we have been master and disciple for six years. I would never harm you. Why won't you believe me?"
The young master suddenly crawled over, grabbed his hand, and cried out, "Teacher... Teacher..."
He was his teacher, the closest person to him in the past six years. He taught him propriety and morality, strategic planning, and everything else; their bond had long surpassed that of a biological father and son. But—
He kept it from him for six whole years! He manipulated his life, changed his temperament, and made him forget himself!
"Teacher, why!" the young master hissed, "Why must this be done?"
The old man said, word by word, "Because I can't bear to see you die."
Yes, he couldn't bear it. This child was a rare gem, a gem of talent, and he couldn't bear to see him ruined, to perish. He wanted to give him a new life, a new beginning, to let him start afresh. But fate had other plans; what was meant to be remembered would still be remembered, and what had happened could never be erased.
He gently stroked the young master's back, as if comforting a wounded animal, full of compassion.
The young master raised his head, his eyes dark and filled with all the emotions he wanted to say, didn't want to say, could say, and couldn't say.
“Listen to me, Wuhen, things aren’t so hopeless. You still have a choice,” the old man said softly. “You can choose again. Be Shui Wuhen, or be Yin Sang again. This time, it’s up to you.”
The young master was startled.
The old man continued, “Last time I used the Nirvana Divine Skill. When the demonic energy within you flared up, I successfully erased your memories and then instilled new memories into you, giving you a new identity and past. However, now that I have lost my inner strength, I cannot do it again. So, this time, you must rely on yourself. If you are willing to be Wuhen, you must promise me that when Yi Liu or Yin Sang are both dead, you will be the successor of Qing Yantai, Gu Mingyan’s fiancé, and a young master admired by everyone in the martial arts world. From now on, you must consider the interests of the martial arts world and justice in everything you do. Your existence is to uphold justice and create a peaceful and prosperous era.”
The young master suddenly spoke up: "What if I choose Yin Sang?"
This time, it was the old man's turn to tremble. After a long silence, he said, "Then after you walk out of this door today, our master-disciple relationship will be severed. From now on, you will walk your own path, and we will have nothing to do with each other anymore. If you harbor any more thoughts of rebellion or murder, Qing Yantai will show no mercy!"
The rain intensified, the wind whipped at the windows, leaving water stains everywhere, and the once fragrant aroma of tea now smelled much more somber.
On one side is a blood feud, on the other is six years of gratitude to his teacher; on one side is a former confidant, on the other is the woman he is about to marry... It turns out that he is no longer Yin Sang after all.
If it were Yin Sang, he would probably slap the wall and walk away with a look of disdain, right? Justice and peace, all bullshit! But in these six years, he has been completely transformed. Benevolence and morality have taken root in his heart like new seeds of enlightenment, and he cannot abandon them.
The young master knelt on the ground, letting the rain soak his back, his eyes blurred with tears.
The old man's expression suddenly softened. He walked over and helped him up, saying, "Wuhen, some things are gone and can never be brought back. Now that you have the chance to be reborn, why not let the past fade away without a trace?"
The young master said in a low voice, "Teacher..." He paused, "I'm sorry, teacher, I... I can't..."
The old man's face immediately turned pale.
The young master said slowly, "I know my teacher's good intentions, but I am not the real Shui Wuhen after all, and I am no longer Yin Sang. If it were the Yin Sang of the past, he would have readily agreed to such an opportunity, and then used it to establish his prestige in the martial arts world. After unifying the martial arts world, he would then turn against the imperial court. At that time, even my teacher would not be able to stop me. So choosing again would only prolong the wrong time, and it would be meaningless."
The old man's face paled even more.
"I'm a selfish person. No matter how my teachers try to change me, I'm still the same selfish person at heart. What do the rest of the world matter to me? I never care about anyone other than myself, until... I met her..."
The old man knew who he was referring to, and his face turned from white to ashen.
"Six years ago, I gave up revenge and devoted the rest of my life, my heart, and all my feelings to her." The young man straightened up and looked at the old man. "But to see her again six years later, to see her haggard appearance again, to see the pain she has suffered, teacher, I wish you had never saved me! She was just a frail woman, why did you have to face such misfortune alone?"
The old man didn't speak, but his brows were filled with sorrow.
The young man walked towards the door, reached out to pull it open, and hesitated for a long time on the doorknob. The old man sighed deeply and said softly, "Are you really not going to reconsider?"
“I will not choose to be Yin Sang, nor will I choose to be Wuhen. I choose to be Mr. Mu.” The young master smiled, but his smile revealed an indescribable sense of vicissitude. “Because Mr. Mu has Madam Yu.”
Mulberry represents wood. From today onward, you will be called Mr. Wood, and I will be Mrs. Jade. Mr. Wood and Mrs. Jade, let's be together forever, okay?
The young master strode outside, the rain falling on him, the chill of his body only serving to highlight the burning passion in his heart.
He could betray everyone in the world, but he could not betray her; he could forget himself, but he could never forget her.
Lady Yu... Lady Yu...
“This is Cai Sang Zi,” the woman in black robes said quietly to him from the shadows.
“This set of needles also has a name,” she said, “it’s called Jinluqu.”
If one day you forget me, but see a woman who likes to name everything around her with a poetic title, will you remember me?
"Young master, are you happy?" she asked him. "Do you like your life now?"
She suddenly grabbed his hand and asked desperately, "Tell me, as the successor of Qingyantai, one of the three holy lands of the martial arts world, admired by all as a young master, from a distinguished family with a prestigious status, and with a beautiful and charming woman, would you fall in love with me?"
Yin Sang, please don't leave me again, okay? I have no way out; you're all I have left. Yin Sang, you're all I have...
The young master rode swiftly back to Emerald Manor, his face streaked with tears, indistinguishable from raindrops. He had vowed never to leave her again, unless death forced him to, yet later, he needed her sacrifice to secure his own life and future…
Why was I so foolish? Why? Cuiyu, I would rather have died with you back then than bear to see you suffer like that for six years!
The young master let out a long, loud cry that pierced through the dark, rainy sky and soared into the heavens.
In her dream, she vaguely heard someone crying.
The crying was silent, but she could feel the excruciating pain. Someone was calling her name, and the voice was so familiar that she had to wake up.
After struggling to open her eyes, her vision remained blurry for a long time. There was a figure at the head of the bed. For a moment, she thought it was Bao'er, but she immediately denied it. This person had a familiar scent to her.
The outline finally slowly emerged. She looked at the face under the dim light, a face that had been etched in her memory a thousand times, once so unfamiliar that she could not get close to it. Yet now, it was within reach, within arm's reach.
Qian Cuiyu looked at the young master, whose face was streaked with tears, and suddenly smiled.
"Don't worry, I won't die," she said.
That same phrase again. Seven years ago, after that unbearable humiliation in the alley, she said—I won't die. Six years ago, when he pierced her heart with a sword, she said—I won't die.
The young master gazed at this miraculous woman in his life, unable to utter a single word. He could only stare at her, staring until his soul was filled with her presence.
Seeing that he didn't speak, Qian Cuiyu couldn't laugh anymore. She sighed softly and said, "What should I do? Every time I show you my worst situation..." Before she could finish speaking, the young master had already hugged her tightly in his arms.
She was so thin, so thin she was just skin and bones. How had she endured these past six years? The young master dared not think about it; any pain she had suffered would be a hundredfold inflicted upon him, causing him only trembling and tears…
Qian Cuiyu reached out and wiped away his tears, letting out a satisfied sigh, "It's so good that you're back..."
"Yes, I'm back," the young master said in a hoarse voice. "This time, I will never leave again."
Qian Cuiyu shook her head and chuckled, "Don't make promises. It's not that I don't believe them, but Heaven would be jealous."
The young master's lips trembled, as if he had a thousand words to say but didn't know where to begin.
Qian Cuiyu said, "I'm scared, I'm really scared... I dare not fight against God anymore... But I still thank God for letting me see you again after six years, and see you living so peacefully... It's so good..." Her voice grew softer and softer, and when the young master realized something was wrong, he found that her face had turned ashen.
"Cuiyu! Cuiyu!" the young master cried out urgently. Just then, the door burst open with a "bang," and Qian Bao'er rushed in, pulling someone along with the Gu siblings.
Qian Bao'er urged, "Master, hurry!"
An elderly man in black reached out to take Qian Cuiyu's pulse, his face darkening as he said, "You all go out first."
"Cuiyu!" The young master held her tightly, refusing to let go no matter what. Qian Bao'er slapped him across the face and shouted, "Do you want Second Sister to really die? Let go now and let my master heal Second Sister!" After saying that, she forcibly dragged the young master away, ignoring everyone's surprise.
She pulled the young master out of the room and made him stand blankly in the flower hall outside.
Qian Bao'er glanced at him, feeling somewhat guilty, and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hit you... Your clothes are soaked through, go back and change."
Gongyu seemed not to hear, his gaze unfocused on the distance, his face deathly pale.
Gu Mingyan bit her lip, asked a maid to bring her a cloak, and stepped forward to help him put it on, but she saw him move away. Her hand froze in mid-air, extremely embarrassed.
The young master turned and glanced at her, a glance that chilled Gu Mingyan to the bone.
The look was that of someone looking at a complete stranger—cold, numb, utterly devoid of emotion. Was this the man who had promised to marry her just days before? Was this the young master she had admired for so many years? No, he wasn't anymore; he wasn't the young master anymore!
Gu Mingyan suddenly burst into tears, covered her face, and ran out. Gu Yucheng, worried about his sister, immediately chased after her. At that moment, Ye Mufeng, having heard the news, rushed over and said, "I heard Senior Ou has arrived?"
Qian Bao'er nodded. Ye Mufeng looked around, somewhat puzzled, and asked, "Where's Brother Jia?"
“Master arrived first. Jialuo went to get medicine for him and will be a few hours later.”
Ye Mufeng looked at the young master and noticed that something was wrong with him. He then asked Qian Bao'er with his eyes, but Qian Bao'er shook her head, indicating that she was also helpless.