Devil Venerable Also Wants to Know

Chapter 75 – Old scars

Wenren È rode a horse, carrying six-year-old little Yin Hanjiang in his lap, heading slowly toward the border with travel documents in hand.

Little Yin Hanjiang lifted a hand and touched the bandages on Wenren È’s face.

“Do I look scary?” Wenren È asked.

His hands and face were covered with burn wounds, which young Wenren Wu had inflicted himself.

After the Wenren clan’s extermination, Wenren Wu rushed back to the capital with the help of Marshal Wenren’s old subordinates, but didn’t manage to do anything other than recover his family’s corpses.

His father’s friends couldn’t help him much, only prepared a false identity for him and told him to travel as far away as possible. Before the Wenren clan was exonerated, he must not return.

Since Wenren Wu was a fugitive, in order to protect himself and not bring anyone else trouble, he threw himself into a bonfire, burning his face. Before his burns healed, he sped away from the capital, running into a checkpoint on the way where a disbelieving officer ripped off his bandages, revealing crimson and bloody flesh.

“No.” Little Yin Hanjiang curled up in his lap, thinking about how the young Wenren Wu had spent these years.

His whole family was dedicated to the country, yet only he now remained. He wasn’t more than a fifteen-year-old boy, having not long ago been a mischievous troublemaker who caused chaos wherever he went, but now he needed to hide his name and identity, crushing down his willful and carefree nature, destroying his own uncommonly handsome face and facing a world filled with malice, alone.

A cultivator could heal any sort of injury. By the time Yin Hanjiang met Wenren È, he had already been cultivating for two hundred years and was powerful as to resemble a deity. He knew no match in the cultivation world, an embodiment of strength itself. No one would be able to imagine he once had such a past. Even though Yin Hanjiang had occasionally heard Wenren È bring up the past, he was unable to connect what he heard with the man he knew.

Only now did Yin Hanjiang realize, more clearly than ever, that his Venerable wasn’t a deity. He was a flesh-and-blood mortal, who understood better than anyone what pain was.

Little Yin Hanjiang climbed up, wrapping his arms around Wenren È’s neck and raising his head to kiss his bandages. “Hurts,” he said softly.

“What are you thinking?” Wenren È poked Yin Hanjiang in the head. “Three hundred and fifty years have passed, so how could it still hurt?”

In his memories, certain special points couldn’t be changed. After all, the events had all already happened. At points when Wenren Wu’s emotions were most intense, Wenren È would be forced down the same actions. But during this blank space which he had no particular impression of, he could stay levelheaded.

Yin Hanjiang didn’t say anything, just buried his head in Wenren È’s shoulder.

They traveled for half a year before arriving at the border. It was no longer the border they had left, after nine cities had been ceded to the enemy forces.

“Back then, I knew I couldn’t kill the worthless emperor, so I fled back to the border and infiltrated the occupied cities in order to assassinate as many of the enemy leaders as possible,” Wenren È said to Yin Hanjiang. “The halberd I always used was in the family manor, so my only wish was to return home and take back my weapon.”

Yin Hanjiang’s heart clenched.

He watched as young Wenren Wu, instead of becoming an official with his recommendations, relied on his martial arts skills and leapt the city wall at midnight. He ran the rest of the way, avoiding enemy soldiers for several days and nights, until he arrived at the town where he had lived.

He had thought that if he returned home, even if his family wasn’t there, there would be traces left of his life, as well as his weapon and the wine his parents had buried for his sister.

But when he arrived, he distantly saw fires in the evening light.

He killed a lone enemy soldier and stole his clothes in order to sneak into the town, finding it abandoned to flames.

Doctor Li, Wang Whiskers, and so many other people he knew were now corpses sprawled across the streets. The enemy soldiers had dug out Wenren Yan’s wine, and were now drinking it as they celebrated.

Wenren Yan had been too young to have any thoughts about marriage. All she knew was that marrying someone was like finding someone to take care of her like her father. She knew her father liked to drink, so treasured her wine, thinking about digging it up and bringing it with her when she got married. She had shown off her fine wine in front of Wenren Wu the whole day, making him mad enough he dug it up and drank it.

The wine she had treasured like her own life had all been wasted, the jars smashed before the doors of the manor.

“Kill them! Kill them all! Burn them! Make them into lamps to burn eternally!” Little Yin Hanjiang spoke beside Wenren È, his face twisted.

This was Wenren È’s memories, and when Wenren È entered a particular frame of mind, Yin Hanjiang would be separated from the world. If Wenren È could see him, everyone else could see him. If Wenren È couldn’t, no one else could.

Right now, Wenren Wu didn’t notice Yin Hanjiang. Staring at the heartless scene before him, he gripped his arms so hard his nails broke skin, forcing himself to endure.

He couldn’t go, he couldn’t go! He was all that was left of his family, so he must survive. There was no meaning at all in killing a handful of people. He needed to survive in order to find his chance.

He covered his eyes, then turned around and ran, leaving the town behind. When he was in the deserted wilderness, he finally collapsed on the ground, curling up, burying his head in his arms and letting out an inhuman howl.

Little Yin Hanjiang stood to one side, watching his Brother Ah-Wu, unable to do anything else.

As he watched, a man descended from the sky at Wenren Wu’s side. Looking loftily down at him, he said, “I was drawn here by the smell of blood from this town and looking to capture a few resentful ghosts, but the spirits’ resentment was completely insufficient. I thought I wasted a trip, but who knew I’d run into a good prospect like you?”

Yin Hanjiang knew this was a demonic cultivator, at the Nascent Soul stage.

Hearing someone suddenly talk to him, Wenren Wu hid away his pain, lifting his head and saying coldly, “Who are you?”

“To you ordinary mortals, I should be considered a god, huh? Hahahaha!” The demonic cultivator burst into haughty laughter. “How about it? Do you want revenge? I have here a manual for the Path of Slaughter. It’s not my path but it’d be a waste to throw it away. I need someone to try it, so what do you say?”

Wenren Wu refused. “However strong one person’s martial arts is, they can’t take on an army. My family’s martial arts are strong enough. I don’t need yours.”

“Hahahaha! With your handful of external martial arts techniques?” the demonic cultivator said. “The blades on a battlefield are merciless and anyone would die no matter how strong their martial arts are, but this method is different.”

“I won’t take you as master.” Wenren Wu wasn’t dumb. After suffering so many tragedies, he was highly on-guard.

“And I don’t need you to. I just want to see how powerful this method is. This manual says that the Path of Slaughter is the supreme demonic path and those who succeed will become the demonic path’s star of death, unmatched within the cultivation world. Tut, tut, a lot of hot air. The last line says that in all of history, of the over one thousand people who have tried this path, not one has made it to Nascent Soul. Not even a single Nascent Soul, and it wants to brag about being the supreme demonic path? How come I don’t believe it?

“What do you think? Do you want it? If you do, all you have to do is hand over a droplet of blood.” The demonic cultivator waved the book in front of Wenren Wu.

The demonic cultivator flipped open the first page, holding it in front of Wenren Wu’s eyes. In a glance, Wenren Wu was entranced by the mysteries recorded within. Before he could read more than a few lines, the demonic cultivator closed the book and held out a hand maliciously.

“I won’t trick you. I can use this drop of blood to control you. If you manage to form a Nascent Soul, I can take it and switch to the Path of Slaughter. If you fail, you’ll die in the heavenly tribulation, and I can use your Golden Core to make elixirs. But either way, you’ll have enough time to gain power and take revenge. How about it?”

Wenren Wu hesitated for a long time, but eventually stuck out a hand, offering a drop of his blood and receiving the book in exchange.

The demonic cultivator flew away, laughing. Seeing that a human could fly in the sky, Wenren Wu clutched the manual in his hands tighter, his expression twisted and his eyes hazy.

“Brother Ah-Wu.” Little Yin Hanjiang clung to Wenren Wu’s leg. No matter how much he shouted, he had been unable to call him awake.

“Don’t worry. Everything’s fine. It’s all in the past.” Wenren È put down the book and picked up Yin Hanjiang, tapping him on the forehead. “It’s just a memory. Three hundred years have passed, and aren’t I still alive? And that method was indeed what that demonic cultivator said it was, providing the power to take on a hundred men.”

Little Yin Hanjiang just held him tightly, muttering, “Ah-Wu, my Ah-Wu.”

Not Venerable, just Ah-Wu.

Yin Hanjiang felt sympathy for Wenren È with his entire heart. This was no longer the worship that once saw him as a god, and no longer the dedication of a subordinate to protect his master. He wanted to use his own tiny body to protect Wenren È, and shield him from all the cruelties of the world.

“Don’t cry. Ah-Wu isn’t crying, is he?” Wenren È patted Yin Hanjiang on the head, and suddenly discovered that the scars on Yin Hanjiang’s face and body had disappeared.

Doctor Li had once said that Yin Hanjiang would never fully recover and be left with scars and crippled. This place was Wenren È’s memories, not Yin Hanjiang’s, and if he wanted to recover, he could do so fully. But he didn’t, just becoming what Doctor Li said, crippled and disfigured, brooding and quiet, his thoughts unknown.

Now his scars had vanished on their own. Wenren È examined his smooth face and said, “How come you’re healed?”

Yin Hanjiang felt his face and was confused himself. He’d had no notions of wanting to recover, but without noticing, he had slowly gotten better on his own.

They were both stumped, and after thinking for a while without figuring it out, Wenren È patted Yin Hanjiang on the head. “I’m so glad you’re recovering.”

He stared intently at Yin Hanjiang. Reliving his old memories, he finally realized why he had left Yin Hanjiang alone on a mountain and ignored him for years after saving him.

To him, Yin Hanjiang was an incomplete promise. At the moment when Wenren È found him, dusty memories from many years ago were reawakened, stirring an old ache in his heart. He saw history repeating before his eyes, and as he faced this young child, he didn’t know how to comfort him.

All Wenren È could do was give Yin Hanjiang everything he hadn’t had. A healthy body, a secure environment, a method guaranteed to be safe, and a sword that could give him power. And… when Yin Hanjiang grew up, a safe and peaceful border.

So he donned his armor again, for the sake of his realm which had stagnated for long, but also in order to let a child no longer hate the world.