Chapter 68: Echoing Sound

Luo Xu left Peidu for the second time but was stopped at the city gate. 

The gatekeeper was the same as before. Dressed in plain clothes and carrying a broken iron sword, he stood at the gate, having been rained on for an unknown time. 

Luo Xu said, "Let us through." 

The gatekeeper, visibly unsettled, responded, "I cannot comply. Since ancient times, it is considered disgraceful for a Lord to be humiliated like this. As a loyal subject, I cannot allow you to take our Lord."

Luo Xu took a step forward, unwilling to waste time arguing. With so many sects in the world, there would always be those seeking to challenge the Heavenly Sea Imperial Lord for fame, regardless of the outcome. Hence, Luo Xu didn’t take his words seriously. 

However, the gatekeeper showed remarkable courage. Recently crushed by Luo Xu, he now dared to draw his sword again when ignored. Taking a bold step forward, he struck first, saying, "Forgive me!"

Though the sword was rusty and looked worthless, when wielded, it shimmered like a hidden gem revealed, radiating brilliance. 

Initially, Luo Xu had underestimated the gatekeeper, but this strike was impressive, rivalling the "Pull to the Forefront" technique of the Pouso Sect from North Heron Mountain. 

Wēng!

The sword tip halted just before Luo Xu, unable to advance further. Luo Xu examined the sword and then the gatekeeper. "What's your name?"

Ming Zhuo, fiddling with the finger chain, did not look up. "Break his Qi Vortex."

A Qi Vortex is an invisible whirlpool created when invoking spells, typically unseen by people. It serves as a crucial point in spellcasting, akin to a "door" on which a Tongshen knocks and through which the power of the gods is borrowed. 

Following orders, the gatekeeper’s sword descended sharply. With a "qiāng," the blade bent slightly, hitting Luo Xu's Qi Vortex! 

Unfortunately, while it struck true, it couldn’t harm Luo Xu. His spiritual power was unfathomable; the iron sword was like a clay ox entering the sea, nearly breaking. 

Each step Luo Xu took forced the gatekeeper to retreat, bending the sword further until it reached its limit. Suddenly, the gatekeeper pressed two fingers together and shouted, "Shattering Thunder!"

Stepping on a puddle, he changed his wrist movement, transforming the broken sword into a burst of purple lightning, unleashing a formidable strike from the Qi Vortex!

Qiāng!

Though the sword broke the vortex, it was swept away by a fierce wind, and flung from his hand. The gatekeeper staggered back, blood dripping from his torn grip.

Luo Xu, holding someone in his arms, remarked before exiting, "I haven't seen this swordsmanship before. Did you create it?"

The gatekeeper, pale as ash, admitted, "…Not bad. Lord, I am defeated, but…"

The black panther, having awaited its cue, leapt down from the city wall at Luo Xu’s command. It shook off the rain, growling lowly at the gatekeeper to make way.

Without further words, Luo Xu mounted the panther. The gatekeeper cried out, "Lord!"

He chased a few steps, but the panther, not an ordinary beast, swiftly leapt out of the gate. Unaware of the situation, the disciples outside were startled, exclaiming, "It’s him again—"

Luo Xu changed direction, charging directly at the disciples. Caught off guard, they scattered in the rain as the panther dashed past like a whirlwind.

Along the way, the regrouped Heavenly Sea guards rested. Luo Xu called them, heading straight for the outskirts. He avoided any bridges, having learned his lesson. Ming Zhuo, bound and seemingly resigned, showed no spirit.

As they left Peidu, the rain lightened. Luo Xu asked, "So quiet, are you afraid I'll kill that gatekeeper?"

Ming Zhuo, still fiddling with the finger ring and not looking at Luo Xu, retorted, "Your skill in threats gets better each time."

Luo Xu replied, "One sees a worthy person and thinks to imitate them."(1)

Ming Zhuo lazily commented, "Fighting and killing all day long, you’re very fierce."

Luo Xu looked down at him, "And you play the victim well."(2)

Ming Zhuo demanded, "Give me back my cat."

Luo Xu countered, "What will you trade for it?"

Ming Zhuo glanced at him, seemingly finding Luo Xu unreasonable, "Do you understand the concept of 'mine'? Returning what one borrows is a basic principle."

Luo Xu’s hold tightened, his tone indifferent, "Your logic makes sense, but what falls in my hands, I only know how to take it for myself."

His words were casual, making him appear thoroughly unreasonable.

Ming Zhuo clenched the finger chain ring, then relaxed, "What do you want?"

How could such a question be asked like that? It was as if he was asking for a sweet, willing to suffer some grievance for that leopard. But he was a tyrant, who always looked down on others as if they were ants from his throne.

Luo Xu, his gaze unchanged, felt his chest no longer ached, only itched. Distracted, he said, "I'll think about it."

The Heavenly Sea guards moved quickly, passing through mountains and forests until night fell.

The finger chain ring seemed to have a healing effect. Ming Zhuo, after holding out for a while, eventually fell asleep. In his dream, the divine palace resembled an endless maze, draped in layers of white gauze. He was cradled in his mother’s arms, holding a paper figure.

"Mother," he murmured, "Where is my mother?"

The hall was dimly lit, his mother’s face obscured in the shadows, silent as if she hadn’t heard. Ming Zhuo broke free from her embrace, only to find her collapsed. She had already died.

A voice said, "Why are you crying?"

Ming Zhuo replied, "I’m not crying…"

The figure emerged from the darkness, a handsome face marred by gloom and resentment, making every word he said seem harsh. "Crying over a dead servant? What does it matter? Come here and dry your tears."

Ming Zhuo retreated, tripping over his mother's body. As the man approached, Ming Zhuo shouted, "I don't want you to wipe them!"

The man grabbed Ming Zhou, "Don't want? Who do you think you are? Do you think you can command others with just your mouth? Don’t be foolish!"

He roughly wiped Ming Zhuo's face with his sleeve. "You’re going to be a Lord; why cry? Even if everyone under heaven dies, you’re not allowed to cry!"

The sleeve scraped his face painfully, breaking the skin. Ming Zhuo struggled, "Let me go!"

The man, seemingly mad, continued his hysterical tirade, "It's your fault she’s dead! Because you’re weak and useless! You wanted to go outside so badly, but what's out there? Murderers and man-eating ghosts!"

He dragged Ming Zhuo, pressing him next to his mother’s corpse. She stared lifelessly as if silently blaming Ming Zhou.

Trembling, Ming Zhuo sobbed, "No… it wasn't me…"

The man raved, "You cry over a corpse? You cry at the sight of death! Are you really a Ming? Open your eyes and look! She died because of you because you are weak!"

His hysterical anger echoed in the darkness.

"What’s the use of crying? It will only make others bully you! Listen to that? That’s the sound of screams, do you know whose screams they are? They’re your father’s, your mother’s, and everyone devoured by this world!"

Ming Zhuo awoke abruptly, feeling something on his face. The leopard, Prime Minister Hua, was licking him. He touched the leopard’s fur, finding comfort in its warmth as it nestled against him.

After a while, Ming Zhuo whispered, "Where have you been?"

The leopard licked its paw, indifferent to Ming Zhuo pulling its fur. Each time he had nightmares, he clung to Prime Minister Hua, fearing the night’s chill. Every night of mutual reliance was spent like this.

The leopard’s tail brushed against Ming Zhuo's back. He mumbled, "No more furballs now."

But the tail continued to swish, insistently. Ming Zhuo grabbed it, only to find himself touching a chest. He turned sharply to see the owner of the chest.

The room wasn’t large, nor was the bed. Luo Xu seemed just awake, raising a hand to his chest, his voice hoarse, "…It hurts."

The leopard, with half-lidded gold eyes, watched Ming Zhou with its master. Ming Zhuo's expression changed slightly, but before he could withdraw his hand, Luo Xu grasped it.

Luo Xu looked down, seeming to study the hand. "Do you know when the contract took effect?"

Ming Zhou tried to pull away, but the finger chain ring tangled with Luo Xu’s. Their fingers touched, one cold, one hot. Ming Zhuo had always thought he feared the cold, but now, held fast, he feared the heat.

"It was fifteen years ago," Luo Xu continued, eyes dark and unreadable. "Do you know how it feels to be the recipient?"

Ming Zhuo didn’t know. He never knew someone could hurt because of him. Maybe, at some point in the past, their heartbeats had synchronised.

Luo Xu guided Ming Zhou’s hand to his neck, their fingers intertwined, pressing Ming Zhuo's hand from his throat downward.

"Every time you're sad, this tightens here, like an invisible chain."

Their fingers moved down, tracing the unseen leash to Luo Xu’s chest. Without his silver armour, the feel of his heartbeat pounding inside his chest was strong. 

Pūtōng, pūtōng.

Though soundless, the heartbeat resonated with Ming Zhuo. He flinched, but Luo Xu didn’t let go.

"Every time you hurt, I hurt," Luo Xu gazed at him, "Every time you cry, I hurt. You can hurt me easily, every day, starting from the heart, spreading through my chest, over and over."

Ming Zhuo's breath hitched, feeling a new kind of fear. The soul-binding contract shackled him. He remembered every tear he’d shed, each a humiliating weakness. Once unknown to all, he was the mighty tyrant. Now, he was exposed, his pain and tears clear to this person.

In this moment, any word would have felt like begging.

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Foot Notes

1. 見賢思齊 (jiànxián-sīqí) is an idiom which Luo Xu is using somewhat ironically here.

2. 惡人先告狀 (èrén xiān gàozhuàng) is an idiom that is more literally “the bad guy is the first to accuse”.