The Husky and His White Cat Shizun

Chapter 119: Master's Four Souls Gathered Together

Although Chu Wanning didn't hear what Rong Jiu shouted from behind, judging by the commotion, he didn't need further explanation to understand that in the warehouse, Rong Jiu had deliberately provoked him to make him angry so that he could seize the opportunity to escape and report.

Thinking about how he usually deliberated before acting, but now, when it came to matters involving Mo Ran, he was no longer so calm, letting a second-rate scoundrel deceive him with just a few words, Chu Wanning felt a little choked.

He watched as Mo Ran ran just a few steps ahead of him and couldn't help asking, "Did you... go back to Immortal Peach Blossom Pavilion later?"

Caught off guard by the name he had almost forgotten, Mo Ran stumbled and angrily cursed, "That damn Rong Jiu! He said I went back to Immortal Peach Blossom Pavilion?! How could I have possibly gone back?! Master, is that why you're angry at me, because you think I lied to you?"

"..."

"After the Platform of Virtue and Vice, I've never been to those... those places again. I didn't deceive Master. If you don't believe me, use See Ghost to tie me up for interrogation."

"....There's no need."

Lowering his eyelids, Chu Wanning looked at See Ghost still clenched in his hand. Thinking about how he had blindly used the spirit-infused willow vine to whip Mo Ran until he was bruised and bleeding, it was really...

Wait a minute, Divine Martial?!

The hellfire illuminated his features vividly in the night, and Chu Wanning stared at it for a moment, his heart already churning with a tempestuous turmoil. He attempted to channel the spiritual energy from the ghost into his own palm, immediately feeling a powerful and abundant force rush towards him without end.

Suddenly, Chu Wanning understood where he could draw the source of this spiritual energy from —

Between the living and the dead, though they could no longer exchange spiritual currents, the divine power of weapons knew no distinction between human, ghost, god, or demon. As long as the weapon itself did not resist, it was universal!

Mo Ran, halfway through running, suddenly sensed that Chu Wanning had halted. He immediately turned back, asking anxiously, "Shifu, what's wrong?"

His face was still streaked with colors and blood, which contrasted with his bright black eyes, making him appear even more pitiable.

Chu Wanning pressed his lips together, feeling both awkward and reluctant, but his innate pride and self-respect made him think that although he had wrongly accused Mo Ran, the boy had indeed been entangled with people like Zhang San and Rong Jiu before. He deserved a scolding.

After pondering for a moment, Chu Wanning didn't know what tone or expression to use when facing Mo Ran. Thus, he kept it simple, continuing without any tone or expression as he said,

"Mo Ran, stand there and retreat to the palace wall."

"...What for?"

Chu Wanning replied coolly, "I'll perform a magic trick for you."

"..."

Before he could grasp the meaning behind his master's words, he witnessed an eerie red glow continuously flowing into Chu Wanning's shattered soul, enveloping it in a scorching flame. Mo Ran widened his eyes as he watched the demonic ghost respond to Chu Wanning for a moment. Suddenly, the flames vanished, and the man in the golden-red robe, wielding the flaming willow vine, turned to him and said,

"Mo Ran, give an order to the demonic ghost."

Mo Ran already had an inkling of what was about to happen, incredulous though it was. He promptly shouted, "Demonic ghost, my master is like me. Obey his command."

The willow vine writhed in Chu Wanning's hand, bursting with shimmering red sparks. The leaves on the vine glowed radiantly, emitting a dazzling light.

Chu Wanning raised his other hand, tracing the vine inch by inch. Wherever his fingertips touched, a surge of brilliance erupted. By now, thousands of Yin soldiers were closing in on them from a short distance away. Behind them stood towering palace walls, sealed off by a barrier, leaving them no escape.

But Chu Wanning didn't intend to retreat.

A ray of light flickered in his eyes, creating countless ripples. A sudden gale rose, sending his robe billowing. With a fierce upward swing of the willow vine in mid-air, the demonic ghost soared like a dragon, its golden radiance illuminating the night sky!

The demonic ghost followed Mo Ran's directive, no longer resisting Chu Wanning but instead channeling its immense spiritual energy relentlessly into Chu Wanning's Earth Soul.

Bathed in that blinding brilliance, Chu Wanning's voice was deep and steady as he commanded, "Demonic ghost, the Coffin of Ten Thousand Men!"

"Rumble—" In an instant, countless intertwined golden and crimson willow vines burst from the ground, tearing the grand palace into ruins. Thick ancient vines tightly coiled around the ghost soldiers and monsters, dragging them to the center of the willow vines where they were sealed away.

Mo Ran watched in astonishment as the divine weapons resonated with the remnant spirits, merging together.

He saw Chu Wanning's robes billowing in the wind, his black hair like tendrils of smoke.

In life and death, he radiated this breathtaking, blazing heroism that no one could resist.

Taking advantage of this opportunity, Chu Wanning swiftly retreated and placed his hand on the palace wall. Closing his eyes for just a moment, he immediately identified the weak point in the barrier.

"Nine feet up, four inches to the right. Use fire!"

Following his instructions, Mo Ran leaped upward. Before the ghosts within the palace could react, he gathered a blazing fire spell in his palm and smashed it down at the spot Chu Wanning had indicated!

In that instant, the earth shook and the towering palace walls rapidly crumbled, returning to their original height. The seal barrier that had guarded the surroundings instantly shattered into dust.

"Out!"

No second command was needed. Mo Ran jumped onto the wall, turned, and pulled Chu Wanning up behind him. The two of them broke free from the Four Ghost Kings' Palace, their figures vanishing into the vast darkness of the night...

In the narrow alleyway, Chu Wanning and Mo Ran stood against opposite walls, gazing at each other without saying a word. Eventually, Mo Ran couldn't hold back his laughter. "That old ghost must be furious… Ouch!" He winced as the wound on his cheek pulled at the corners of his mouth.

"…" Chu Wanning said, "Don't laugh."

Mo Ran stopped laughing. In the dimly lit alley, his eyelashes fluttered as he gazed at Chu Wanning with his dark, gentle eyes. "Master, are you still angry with me?"

If he had said, "Master, you've wronged me," Chu Wanning might have felt uncomfortable. But by asking if he was still angry, Mo Ran made Chu Wanning hesitate for a moment before quietly changing the subject. "...Quickly cast your spell. We escaped from the Palace of the Four Ghost Kings. For now, he probably wouldn't dare to tell the other ghost kings, but that won't last forever."

Upon hearing this, Mo Ran knew that Chu Wanning wasn't going to leave him. The tension in his heart since earlier finally eased.

Mo Ran laughed again. "Mm." The smile soon turned into a wince, and he instinctively covered his face.

Chu Wanning: "......."

Mo Ran took out the Soul Guiding Lantern and held it in his hands, silently reciting incantations. After three rounds, the lantern suddenly emitted a blinding glow, too bright for anyone to look directly at.

He seemed to hear Master Huaiwei's chanting, echoing across the surging, majestic River of Yellow Springs and through the tranquil reeds of the Forgetful River.

"When will you return... When will you return..."

The voice was distant, almost indiscernible, but after a while, the chanting of "When will you return" seemed to draw closer. Then, Master Huai Zui's voice echoed in Mo Ran's ear.

"Why are there two Earth Souls?" Master Huai Zui's hazy voice held a hint of doubt.

Mo Ran closed his eyes and recounted the events to Huai Zui in his mind.

There was a moment of silence from the faint voice before it spoke again, "You met Chu Xun from Shunfeng Hall?"

"Mm."

"..."

"Master?"

"Nothing. If Young Master Chu says it's normal to have two Earth Souls, then that must be the case," Huai Zui said. "It's just that this monk has never attempted to summon two Earth Souls from the Netherworld at the same time. It will take longer, so please bear with me a little longer, Patron Mo."

Mo Ran glanced at the Palace of the Four Ghost Kings and asked, "How long will it take? We just left the palace, and I don't know when they'll catch up to us..."

"It won't be too long. Please rest assured, Patron Mo."

With those words, Huaizui's voice faded even more, and after a while, it was entirely drowned out by the chanting of "When will you return?"

Chu Wanning, unable to hear Huaizui's voice, furrowed his brow slightly. "What's wrong?"

"Master's soul is unique," Mo Ran said. "The Great Master says we need to wait a bit longer." He continued, "We're too close to the palace. Let's move further away."

Chu Wanning nodded, and the two walked around a corner. Dawn was almost breaking, and the old man who had given them directions earlier was preparing to pack up his stall. Seeing Mo Ran, he exclaimed in surprise, "Ah!"

"Did you find him?"

Mo Ran hadn't expected to run into the old man again and was momentarily taken aback. Then he said, "Yes, we did. Thank you, old sir."

"What's there to thank me for? It's all due to Little Immortal Lord's good fortune. Ah... Your face, why is it injured?"

"Oh, I was... hit by a Soul Scattering Whip from a Yin soldier," Mo Ran fibbed.

"No wonder. I said ordinary things shouldn't harm ghosts. Oh... That must have hurt a lot."

The old man thought for a moment, then put down the basket he had just packed up. He prepared two bowls of small wontons and offered them to the pair. "I won't be able to sell these leftovers anyway. Please have some before you go."

Mo Ran expressed his gratitude and watched as the old man picked up his load once more and strolled away leisurely. Only then did he place the soup bowl on a small stone stool nearby.

Chu Wanning disliked scallions and chives, so the old man had sprinkled some in his wonton soup. Mo Ran scooped out all the green bits from his own bowl before swapping it with Chu Wanning's. "Shifu, have this one."

"..." Chu Wanning gave him a glance but didn't refuse. He picked up the spoon and tasted the soup slowly.

Mo Ran watched him eat. The cold soup from the Netherworld touched his pale lips, and not a single wonton was left uneaten – the authentic way a ghost would enjoy it.

"Is it good?"

"It's alright."

"Not as delicious as your Dragon Claw Dumplings."

"Cough!" Chu Wanning was caught off guard, as if he had been choked. He suddenly looked up, staring at the person in front of him with wide eyes, feeling like a freshwater clam whose shell had been forcefully pried open and exposed to the blazing sun, leaving no secrets hidden.

"...What Dragon Claw Dumplings?" Elder Yu Heng frowned, maintaining a solemn expression as he tried to act clueless, attempting to cover up the loss of his masterly aura.

"Stop pretending," Yet before he could regain his dignity, Mo Ran's hand reached out to tousle his hair, shattering the illusion.

Chu Wanning was both enraged and disheartened by this.

"I know everything."

Silence.

Mo Ran took out the lantern containing the human soul from his Qiankun Pouch and placed it beside the stone bench. "When Master was alive, he was always so obstinate. Even in the Underworld, only the human soul is obedient."

"I made these for you just because..."

Mo Ran raised an eyebrow, looking at him with a half-smile, half-serious expression.

But why?

Out of guilt? To make sure you're fed? Full of regret?

None of these words could pass Chu Wanning's lips.

Chu Wanning felt that he had an inner malady; his self-esteem was excessively strong compared to ordinary people. He regarded showing kindness, loving someone, and depending on others as shameful acts. Through countless winds and rains, he had grown accustomed to being alone, transforming into a towering, majestic tree that stood tall and rigid.

This towering tree never trembled like a delicate flower to stir emotions, nor did it sway like a clinging vine, provoking desire. It stood solemnly and silently, steadfast and dependable. Without a word, it shielded passersby from the elements and offered shade to those leaning against its trunk.

Perhaps because it grew too high and lush, people had to deliberately look up to notice—the gentle shade it cast was its doing. But the comings and goings of travelers never raised their heads, and none discovered him.

Human eyes tend to focus on what's below or at their own level, so Chu Wanning gradually adapted, and eventually, it became natural for him.

In reality, no one is inherently a dependent or the one depended upon.

Those who constantly cling to the strong often become increasingly coquettish and gentle, bending their boneless limbs to please, flatter, and sweet-talk their way to power.

On the other hand, there were people like Chu Wanning, who, since leaving the mountains, had always been relied upon. Such individuals grow more resolute and robust over time, with their faces hardening like iron and their hearts tempered like steel. Accustomed to witnessing others' vulnerability and the fawning of the world, they are loath to reveal any hint of softness.

They are the ones who wield swords, fully armored, ready for battle at any moment.

One must never show vulnerability, nor seek solace in tender affection.

As time passed, it seemed they had forgotten that at birth, all humans are imbued with feelings and a blend of strength and gentleness. As children, they laugh, cry, pick themselves up after falls, and yearn for a helping hand to lift them up.

Perhaps he too once hoped for someone to lend him that support. But after waiting once, then twice, and being met with disappointment each time, he gradually grew accustomed to it. By the time someone actually reached out to help, he would consider it unnecessary, even a source of shame.

It was just a fall, after all.

His legs were still intact; why make a fuss?

But what if his leg were broken? This thought might cross his mind.

Ah, just a broken leg, not a life-ending matter; why be overly dramatic?

And if he were to die?

Even as a ghost, he'd ponder: Well, since I'm already dead, any more sentimentality is simply overblown.

They strive to free themselves from the melodrama of being weak, yet inadvertently, they fall into another form of dramatization, developing an incurable disease of excessive pride.

Mo Ran watched this hopeless individual, eager to hear what he would say.

In the end, Chu Wanning said nothing. He pursed his lips and set down the spoon with a thud.

He was not at all pleased.

After a moment's silence, he abruptly stood up and declared, "Try casting another spell. I'm going inside the Soul Guiding Lamp."

"Uh…" Mo Ran was taken aback for a moment before chuckling. "Is the Soul Guiding Lamp a seashell? You hide in there whenever you're embarrassed?"

Chu Wanning's expression turned stern as he brushed back his sleeves. "Embarrassed? Tell me, what is there for me to be embarrassed about?"

"As your disciple, it's obvious that you're embarrassed because…"

"!" Not expecting him to actually voice out such shamelessness, Chu Wanning reacted as if pricked by a needle. "Stop right there."

"Because you care about me."

"………………"

Mo Ran rose to his feet as well. The scarlet clouds of the Netherworld drifted across the sky, revealing the dusky crescent moon that cast a layer of frost upon the earth and illuminated Mo Ran's face.

His smile had vanished, replaced by a solemn and earnest expression.

"Shifu, I know you've always been good to me. I don't know if you'll remember what I'm about to say when you return, but... regardless, I want to tell you this. From now on, you will be one of the most important people in my life. As your disciple, I've made many foolish mistakes. Despite having the best Shifu in the world, I held grudges. Thinking back on it now, I can only feel deep regret."

Chu Wanning looked at him.

Mo Ran continued, "Shifu is the very best Shifu, while your disciple is the worst of the worst."

Chu Wanning was initially feeling somewhat uneasy, but when he heard Mo Ran struggle to express himself with his pitiful choice of words, trying his utmost yet still coming across as clumsy, he couldn't help but smile softly after holding back for a while.

"Oh," he nodded, repeating, "Master is the best Master, and disciple is the worst disciple. You've finally gained some self-awareness."

Chu Wanning had never been a greedy person; he gave much to others while asking for little in return. Though he hadn't won Mo Ran's affection, being treated as the most important person and the best master was still satisfactory.

He was an emotionally impoverished individual, destitute yet unwilling to beg.

Someone was willing to offer him a warm, freshly baked bun to gnaw on.

He felt incredibly content, nibbling on the small piece of bread, and that was enough for him.

Yet, Mo Ran, that silly fellow, was staring blankly at this soul, who had also been amused by his antics. Joy surged through his heart like a field of blooming grass and singing birds. He said, "Shifu, you should smile more. You look much better when you do."

Chu Wanning's smile faded.

It was a matter of pride. He believed that compliments like "good-looking" were meant for those wildflowers and weeds who flirted with their charm, like Rong Jiu, for example. He didn't want them.

But Mo Ran, oblivious to the subtleties, continued to ponder earnestly about how to praise his wonderful Shifu. "Shifu, did you know that when you smile... um... there's only one word that can describe it..."

He was struggling to find the perfect term to convey the beautiful sight he had just witnessed.

Something related to smiling.

The clanging of the underworld's drum sounded three more times.

Suddenly, an idea struck him, and he blurted out, "Yes! Smiling from the depths of the nine springs!"

"..."

This time, Chu Wanning was genuinely enraged. He refused to acknowledge Mo Ran anymore, flinging his sleeves aside as he held the Soul Summoning Lamp and barked fiercely, "Mo Weiyu, are you still going to babble on? If you utter another useless word, I'll return to the Palace of Four Kings on my own accord. It's better than listening to your nonsense every day in the human realm!"

Mo Ran was stunned.

Smiling in the Netherworld... did he use it incorrectly?

Smiling attractively in the Underworld... there was nothing wrong with that...

It was too conspicuous to argue at this intersection, and Mo Ran wasn't sure which part of his speech had offended his master. Since Master wanted him to be silent, he would just keep quiet. With this thought, Mo Ran scratched his head and pulled Chu Wanning to a corner. The slow chanting in his mind was growing louder, so Mo Ran asked Huaizui, "Master, is it almost done?"

There was a moment of silence, followed by the sound of a wooden fish being struck. Huaizui's voice seemed to reverberate right next to his ear, clearer than ever.

"Soon."

As soon as Huaizui finished speaking, specks of golden light drifted out from Chu Wanning's second Earth Soul. The soul standing before them grew increasingly faint as the golden light dissipated, eventually transforming into countless fireflies that streamed like a galaxy into the Soul Summoning Lamp.

Mo Ran could hear Master's chant, transmitted through the surging, mighty waters of the Yellow Springs, and through the serene reeds of the River Lethe.

"When will you return... When will you return..."

All hardships seemed to fade into paleness amidst the elongated, almost sorrowful Buddhist chant. Mo Ran held the Soul-guiding Lamp, feeling his body grow lighter and more ethereal by the moment.

"Thump!"

A crisp wooden fish struck, like a sharp blade shattering the illusionary, hazy recitation.

Mo Ran's eyes snapped open, as if startled awake!

The Realm of Ghosts had vanished, like a vivid dream from not long ago. He found himself lying on a bamboo raft, moored beside the Bridge of Helplessness at the Summit of Life and Death. Below the raft, endless waters rushed, with waves splashing relentlessly.

The sky was crab-apple green, but tinged with a thin flush of red. Bamboo leaves fluttered on both banks of the great river, their countless rustling voices fresh and vibrant.

Dawn appeared to be approaching.

He blinked, dazed.

Suddenly, he discovered that the Soul Guidance Lamp in his embrace was gone, and panic seized him, making him bolt upright.

"Master! —!"

"Quiet," someone said calmly.

Mo Ran panted like someone who had just woken up from a nightmare, his face pale as he turned to see Huai Zui kneeling on the shore. He tapped the wooden fish resting on the bluestone and lifted his eyelids.

"You can shout all you want, but he won't hear you right now."

The Soul Guidance Lamp sat beside the wooden fish, shimmering with vibrant colors and golden radiance. Chu Wanning's spiritual energy was breathtakingly beautiful.

Huai Zui picked up the lamp, stood up from the rock, and nodded at Mo Ran. "Young Master Mo, you've done well."

Mo Ran scrambled to his feet and jumped off the bamboo raft onto the shore. He grabbed Huai Zui's arm anxiously. "Master, should we head to Shuangtian Temple to find Master's mortal body? Hurry, hurry, I'm afraid his soul will dissipate if we're too late."

Huai Zui couldn't help laughing. "Souls don't disperse that easily." Then he added, "Don't worry. I've already asked Scholar Xue to speak with your sect's leader. Chu Wanning's mortal body should have been moved to the Red Lotus Water Pavilion by now. I'll be closing myself there to perform a ritual to guide your master's soul back into his body."

Mo Ran exclaimed, "Then let's hurry, let's go quickly!" Seeing the enigmatic smile on Huai Zui's face, he hastily added, "Master, please take your time, there's no rush."

Despite his furrowed brows and unconscious steps forward, he even reached out to grab at Huai Zui's sleeve, clearly revealing his anxiety.

Huai Zui shook his head, sighed, and chuckled. "There's no use for Little Patron to be in a hurry."

Mo Ran waved his hands repeatedly. "No rush, no rush, it's important to be cautious."

"Yes, caution is key. Once the soul leaves the body, it cannot instantly return to the flesh. Doing so would defy the natural order and easily lead to the dispersal of one's soul. This poor monk will proceed slowly."

"Right, right, right, slowly then." Mo Ran echoed hastily but still couldn't resist asking hesitantly, "How long will it take for Master to be revived?"

Huai Zui answered calmly, "Five years."

"So that's it, five... FIVE YEARS?!!"

Mo Ran's face drained of color, feeling as if he had been struck dumb.

"The soonest would be five years," Huai Zui confirmed.

Mo Ran: "…"

Author's Note: When the Master awakens properly, he will see Mo Ran 2.0. ~Come on! Get ready for the system upgrade!