The Husky and His White Cat Shizun

Chapter 238: Dragon Blood Mountain, Soulless

"What?!"

Mo Ran was utterly shocked, stepping back half a step. If he were not just an ethereal figure in this memory scroll, he might have knocked over the fish basket's netting beside him.

The Flame Emperor's divine wood could actually bring people back to life?

"The Flame Emperor's wood, Nuwa's clay, and Fu Xi's zither—these three were originally the divine artifacts created by the Three Sovereigns. They possess pure spiritual energy, and it's said that the first batch of immortals in the world were born from these artifacts. I obtained a piece of the Flame Emperor's wood. Even without Shen Nong's omnipotent powers, shaping a human form would not be difficult. Just as Taishang Laojun's mother recreated his body with lotus roots after his death, I eventually made up my mind. I decided to carve this piece of divine wood into the image of Young Master Chu."

Mo Ran felt the world spin around him, his vision blurring.

Carved into... Young Master Chu... Chu Lan's appearance?

Huai Zui said, "I wanted to repay your kindness with a son."

Mo Ran's throat was parched, as if something was stuck there. It took him a long while before he managed to mutter, "That's impossible..."

In the scroll, the evening bell rang at Sorrowless Temple as dusk settled in.

Weary birds have returned to their nests, and monks float past in flowing sleeves, their wide robes billowing through the corridors.

Master Huai Zui sat in his meditation chamber with doors and windows tightly shut, accompanied by the dim light of an ancient Buddha and a meticulous focus on sculpting. He dared not be hasty with his chisel, for before attempting to recreate life from the Flame Emperor's divine wood, he had carved hundreds, if not thousands, of figurines until they resembled Chu Lan in every detail.

That night, he finally held the Flame Emperor wood gently in his hands, examining it closely before cautiously and meticulously making the first cut.

Wood shavings fluttered down like golden dust, scattering across the ground.

With every stroke of his chisel, he exerted his utmost effort, each one bringing back vivid images of the two long-gone acquaintances. A century's worth of time seemed to ebb and flow under the edge of the blade. The old monk bowed his head low, his neck seemingly broken under the weight of his sins.

"I secluded myself in the temple for five full years, only completing the carving of 'Chu Lan' at last."

Motionless, Mo Ran approached Master Huai Zui. He watched as the monk slowly set down his chisel, the final touch having been applied. With a gentle brush, Huai Zui removed the lingering ashes.

Trembling, he caressed the face and attire of the wooden nobleman. Tears flowed as he knelt on the floor, repeatedly bowing to the wooden statue.

Mo Ran stared blankly at the small figure displayed on the table, its body made of divine wood, its form etched with remorse.

A tiny figure, yet it was the image of Chu Wanning in his childhood.

It was dusk, and the sound of temple bells echoed, resonating throughout the heavens and earth. The last remnants of the sunset's crimson glow seeped through the lattice windows, casting light upon the desks and tables.

As the day waned, the monastery was filled with the tolling of bells. Outside the courtyard, monks burned cypress wood and pine needles, filling the air with a rich fragrance tinged with a hint of bitterness and coolness.

Nightfall was imminent, and the Zen temple found its tranquility.

"I shall name you, Chu Wanning," was softly spoken.

The final resounding strike of the great bell fell, and Huaizui addressed the wooden statue in a soft whisper.

He bit his fingertip, letting a drop of blood rich with metallic spirit energy fall. In that instant, the room was illuminated by a dazzling radiance.

Amidst this brilliance, Mo Ran's eyelashes trembled as he closed his eyes. His lids quivered continuously; he tried desperately to see through the glow, but his tearful vision was blurred, and the intense light prevented him from making out anything at all.

As he was forced to shut his eyes entirely due to the brightness, Mo Ran thought of Chu Wanning—

He knew all of this now too. How much pain must his heart be in?

Not a living person.

No father, no mother.

Merely a withered tree trunk, a drop of blood.

For over three decades, he lived in this world without a clue of his existence.

"The divine tree, imbued with spirit, took on the form I desired after being infused with my blood—transforming into the appearance of Little Lord Chu Lan. I raised him in a temple, taking him as my disciple. Gradually, as he grew up, he began to inquire about his origins, asking where he came from."

Mo Ran saw a young Chu Wanning sitting beside Master Huaiwei, munching on sugar-coated haws while asking, "Master, you always say that you found me in the snow. But where exactly did you find me?"

Huaiwei's gaze drifted towards the distant, misty mountains. He was lost in thought for a moment before he sighed and spoke two words.

"Ling'an."

"So I'm from Ling'an, then?"

"Mm-hmm."

"I've never left the monastery before, so I have no idea what Linan is like," Chu Wanning sounded a little disheartened. "Master, I want to go down the mountain and see the world outside. I... I want to visit Linan."

The illusion gradually faded, and Wu Bi Temple receded into the distance, replaced by the brilliant summer scenery of southern Jiangnan.

It was June, and the lotus pond was in full bloom with its delicate, fragrant flowers. Chu Wanning, who was even smaller than Xia Sini, strolled along the cobblestone path, with Huai Zui following behind.

"Slow down, Wanning. Be careful not to fall."

Chu Wanning turned back with a smile on his face.

It was a youthful, carefree smile that Mo Ran had never seen before.

"Sure, I'll wait for Master."

Back then, Chu Wanning wore a dark gray monk's robe, his hair still intact, tied up in a small bun, with a lotus leaf on top of his head. The dewdrops glistening on the leaf made his face appear even more innocent and bright.

Huai Zui walked up to him and took his hand. "Alright, we've seen West Lake. Where do you want to go next?"

"How about getting something to eat?"

"Well then..." Huaizui paused, "let's head into the city."

They walked together into town, with Mo Ran by their side. He watched as Chu Wanning tottered along with the lotus leaf barely reaching his knees, stirring both affection and sorrow within him.

He reached out, knowing full well that he couldn't touch anyone in this illusion, but still he stretched forward, gently patting Chu Wanning's head.

"Hmm?"

To his surprise, Chu Wanning suddenly stopped walking.

Huaizui asked kindly, "What's wrong?"

Chu Wanning lifted his head, looking up with his eyes that, bathed in sunlight, were as clear as two pools of sweet water. Unintentionally, they landed directly on Mo Ran.

Mo Ran was startled, only hearing the thumping of his heart and the rush of blood through his veins.

He found it inconceivable, yet secretly anticipated...

"What is that?"

Chu Wanning released Huaizui's hand and walked toward Mo Ran.

The more Mo Ran observed, the more distressed he felt. He had never seen such an uninhibited and carefree expression on Chu Wanning's face before. Unable to resist, he leaned forward, instinctively opening his arms, yearning to embrace him.

But Chu Wanning passed right through his illusory figure.

Mo Ran was momentarily stunned. Turning around, he saw the boy had walked to a pastry shop behind him, gazing up at the vendor lifting the bamboo steamer lid. Steam rose, revealing delicate pink flower cakes inside.

Mo Ran felt a slight relief, followed by a tinge of disappointment.

It was just a coincidence after all.

He followed Huaizui, and when Chu Wanning saw them approaching, he smiled. "Master, this pastry looks delicious."

"Would you like to try it?"

"Is it allowed?"

Huaizui seemed to be in a daze. "You both indeed have a liking for..."

Chu Wanning heard this and widened his eyes innocently, asking, "Everyone likes them?"

Huai Zui pressed his lips together and replied, "…Nothing. Master just thought of an old friend."

He bought three sticky rice flower cakes and watched thoughtfully as Chu Wanning took a bite. The rising steam obscured the child's face.

Memories flowed like a river, surging past.

Huai Zui let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes.

Suddenly, his sleeve was tugged lightly. Lowering his head, he saw the broken cake with its delicate red bean paste oozing warmth and fragrance.

"One half for Master, one half for me. The bigger piece is for you, Master."

"Why do I get the bigger piece?"

"Because you're taller, so you eat more."

"…" Mo Ran watched as Huai Zui accepted the cake and both he and Chu Wanning stood by the stall, enjoying their snacks and chatting. After a moment of silence, standing in the dazzling sunlight of Linan, Mo Ran smiled slightly.

It hurt terribly.

But at the same time, it felt as if a gentle spring was flowing within his heart. He believed that no one could remain indifferent or not love someone like Chu Wanning.

That was the most obedient and wonderful child in the world.

The brilliant sunshine before his eyes faded once more.

This time, a new scene didn't appear immediately. Mo Ran stood in pitch darkness, with only the hollow, ghostly voice of Huai Shui ringing in his ears.

"I spent every day with him, teaching him to read and write, sharing scriptures and wisdom. But what I cared about most was his cultivation— I had not forgotten that the reason I created such a child was to eventually return him to my benefactor. From the very beginning, I planned to take him to the Realm of Ghosts when Chu Wanning had grown up and his spiritual power and body were strong enough to withstand it."

Huai Zui paused, his voice becoming even more somber.

"I would merge the fragmented soul of Young Master Chu Lan, which remained, into his body."

Mo Ran: "!"

Huai Zui's voice rasped, "At that time, I believed it was the right thing to do. What was Chu Wanning? He wasn't a real living person; he was just a piece of wood, a wooden sculpture. I breathed life into him, taught him how to navigate the world, but in the end, the blood flowing through his veins was not real, and the flesh covering his bones was not genuine."

Mo Ran had already been brooding, and upon hearing these words from Huaizui, he couldn't hold back any longer. He shouted, "That's not true!"

But what was the point?

Huaizui couldn't hear his furious denial. The monk's voice continued to swirl like a vortex, dragging Mo Ran into an even deeper, more painful abyss.

"Chu Wanning is superfluous; he has no life, no soul."

"That's not true!!! Why doesn't the Divine Tree have a soul? It has life, it has a spirit! He's not anyone else! He's unique!" Mo Ran howled in the illusion like a trapped beast. "Huaizui, you raised him! You watched him every day... Wasn't he alive? What makes him different from you or me?"

But Huaizui continued to mutter to himself, his voice numb as if reciting scriptures before Buddha. His well-rehearsed words emerged from his lips, perhaps genuinely devoted to Buddhism or simply trying to numb the intense pain in his heart.

"I carved Chu Wanning's body for Chu Lan. Only when Chu Lan's soul inhabits it will Chu Wanning be a complete person."

Mo Ran was chilled to the bone. He didn't know what happened next, but he felt like he was going mad, teetering on the edge of insanity. Running through the darkness, he muttered incessantly, his muttering turning into screams. "That's not true! You can't destroy him, Huaizui! There's a soul within him; he's a living person..."

He fell to his knees.

Suddenly, he was seized by an overwhelming fear, even greater than the revelation of his past life.

Suddenly, he feared witnessing Huaizui taking Chu Wanning to the Realm of Ghosts, opening his chest, and fusing his spirit core with Chu Lan's soul.

But what about the original Chu Wanning?

His spirit of the divine wood would depart, entering the six realms of reincarnation. Where could a fragmented piece of wood go?

To the heavens above, the earth below, amidst the clouds, or down the Yellow Springs.

Nowhere would accept him.

"No... Huaizui... you can't..." Mo Ran trembled, his lips pale. "You can't..."

How could there be no soul?

How could he not be alive?

That child who laughed as he skipped along the road, his head crowned with a fresh lotus leaf.

That child who carefully split apart a flower cake, giving the larger piece to his Master and keeping the smaller one for himself.

He was still so young, yet he possessed more emotion and vitality than many others.

He was no less vivid than any being formed of flesh and blood.

How could he not be alive...

But Mo Ran's desperate pleas and screams failed to rouse Huaizui from his despair.

Huaizui's century-long guilt resided in this very fact: he felt that he owed the Chu family, especially Chu Xun. He had gone through immense hardships to create such a body for him, how could he have made a mistake?

"The days went by, and Wanning grew up gradually. He was Chu Lan's reincarnation, and I worried about his well-being far more than I did for myself. So for all these years, I only took him to Lin'an for a few months when he was around five or six. After that, we never stepped beyond the borders of Wubei Temple."

Huaizui sighed, then continued, "Sometimes I wondered if the world I showed him was too limited. He was fourteen and had only been to Lin'an; his world was confined to that one corner of the Wubei Temple's monastery, a tiny slice of spring and autumn."

The darkness finally lifted before his eyes.

It was a moonlit night. Mo Ran first saw Huaizui standing at the entrance of the meditation room, looking out into the courtyard.

He hurried over as well. Under the frosty moonlight, he witnessed a fourteen-year-old Chu Wanning practicing swordsmanship. Peach blossoms swirled around him, and the young man in white seemed like a celestial being beneath the petals and the cold moonlight.

Huaizui's voice still echoed, intertwined with the sharp sound of a sword piercing the sky, lingering in their ears.

"But then again, perhaps it's not such a bad thing to witness less. There is too much suffering in the mortal world. If this divine tree spirit is fated to have only a brief lifespan of a dozen years before being replaced by Chu Lan, wouldn't it be more merciful for it to live carefree, genuine, and open-minded, unaware of the sorrows of the world?"

The sword dance concluded.

Withered petals fell.

Chu Wanning sheathed his long sword behind his back, raising his other hand with two fingers upright, focusing and calming his mind.

He regulated his slightly hurried breath, lifting his head to see Huaizui looking at him, and smiled.

The evening breeze brushed against his forehead, causing a slight itch. He gently blew to try and disperse the stray hairs tickling his cheeks, but it was clearly futile, so he finally had to brush them away with his hand. His dark phoenix eyes smiled back at Huaizui.

That was also the direction where Mo Ran stood.

"Shifu."

"Hmm. Not bad." Huaizui nodded. "Come here, let me test how your spiritual core has progressed in cultivation."

Chu Wanning approached without hesitation, rolling up the sleeves of his snowy-white robe and extending his hand to Huaizui.

After examining him, Huaizui remarked, "Your foundation is robust, but it's still somewhat unstable. Keep practicing. You should attain great accomplishment before winter arrives."

Chu Wanning smiled and replied, "Thank you, Master."

As he spoke, Mo Ran couldn't help but notice that Huaizui's shoulders seemed to tremble ever so slightly, though he might have been imagining it.

In the end, Huaizui said nothing, revealed no emotion, and remained unchanged.

He turned and entered the house.

Mo Ran stood rooted in place, no longer sparing a glance for the remorseful figure within the room. Instead, he gazed with an intensity bordering on desperation and greed at the young man before him—Chu Wanning—who could vanish at any moment, like a fleeting specter of ethereal beauty from the immortal realms.

Still pristine, pure, and even gentle.

How could such a person be devoid of a soul?

His gaze inadvertently fell upon the gentle undulations beneath Chu Wanning's pristine white robe, where his chest rose and fell with each breath.

A sudden realization struck Mo Ran, akin to being struck by a bolt of lightning. A boulder seemed to plummet into his chest, stirring up a thousand waves of horror.

"No... No..."

He took a step back.

But what could he do?

Memory had reached out with its grotesque claws, digging deep into his organs.

He recalled now—there was a scar on Chu Wanning's chest.

...His heart had been surgically opened! He... He...

Mo Ran trembled as he watched Chu Wanning dance with his sword under the moonlight, stepping on floating petals.

So handsome.

Yet, it felt as if a bucket of ice had dropped into his stomach, leaving him shivering with an icy chill.

He had... his chest torn open...

So did Huai Zui carry out his plan in the end?

Did he truly take Chu Wanning to the Realm of Ghosts, fusing Chu Lan's soul fragments into Chu Wanning's heart? Thus, the original Chu Wanning no longer existed. Therefore—

He clutched his head and curled up on the ground.

Trembling, he dared not continue his thoughts.

It hurt.

His heart was in unbearable pain.

He wished it was him whose heart was ripped out, he wished it was him who had lost his original soul.

Chu Wanning.

He was so good.

Why endure such torment, only to end up branded as "not alive," treated by his creator as an empty vessel for another's existence?

Then who was the master he had served? Was it Chu Lan or Chu Wanning?

Mo Ran felt as if he were going mad, his head throbbing with pain, accompanied by dizziness and nausea. He couldn't tell how long he had sat there.

Eventually, the sky darkened, and the meditation room and flower trees vanished.

Chu Wanning faded away too.

Huai Zui's voice flowed softly through the darkness.

He said, "When Chu Wanning was fourteen, the time was ripe. I planned to take him to the Realm of Ghosts the following year to merge his soul with Chu Lan's."