The Husky and His White Cat Shizun

Chapter 262: The Heavenly Sound Pavilion's Play Comes to an End

The Xiangtan prison was old and dilapidated. Early the next morning, Mo Ran escaped during the prisoner interrogation. After regaining his freedom, the first thing he did was return to the Drunken Jade Tower.

Upon entering the backyard, he saw Nian standing proudly in the center of the courtyard, dressed in a black daoist robe.

Just as before, any trouble he caused would be shouldered by that orphan, Mo Ran. He firmly believed he was unscathed.

---

"You're an orphan with no parents. No one will mourn if you die."

"I've raised you for all these years; it's time for you to repay your debt."

These were the justifications they used to hang an innocent man.

Pompous and self-righteous, their voices boomed with conviction.

Mo Ran stood in the shadows, watching Nian, so nonchalant and carefree.

Oh, so this is what it feels like to be cherished, cared for, and protected by a mother?

Someone would shield you from the heavens collapsing.

Only your own life was worth sacrificing.

Mo Ran gazed at him for a long while.

Nian Gongzi had already purchased a daoist robe and transformed into a cultivator, awaiting his mother's sale of the Drunken Jade Tower before embarking on his journey to the Lower Cultivation World as a young master. At that moment, he was pretentiously practicing swordplay in the courtyard, surrounded by a group of adolescents – the very same accomplices who had framed Mo Ran.

"What impressive sword skills, Nian!"

"You truly have the spirit. Once you're in the Lower Cultivation World, you'll surely become an extraordinary Sword Immortal!"

"Your uncle's Peak of Life and Death seems quite formidable these past two years. You'll have a grand time when you get there! Just don't forget about us, your brothers!"

"Yes, yes." Someone echoed, "Nian, don't ever forget about us. We've grown up practically sharing the same pants, taking both good and bad together, even bearing the blame for that tofu shop girl's death –"

Nian had already placed himself on a higher pedestal and could no longer tolerate others mentioning his scandalous assault on the young maiden. Upon hearing those words, he immediately pointed his sword with a swish, its tip pressing against the speaker's throat. He seethed, "That girl from the tofu shop was killed by Mo Ran. We all witnessed it ourselves – he was possessed by a beast, devoid of any morals, and assaulted her. How many times must I repeat this for you to remember?!"

The man trembled under the sword, hastily saying, "Y-yes... it's my memory! I made a mistake!"

Others hurried to appease Nian, "It's all that Mo Ran's fault, a beast in human skin, worse than a pig or a dog!"

"Exactly, yes, yes. He forcibly violated an innocent maiden and killed her after. We all saw it, we'll never forget his demonic face."

They all chimed in with their fabricated lies, some people like this, repeating lies so often that they themselves began to believe them. The more they spoke, the more righteous they felt, and the cleaner they separated themselves from the guilt. Nian laughed twice, twirled his sword in a flourish, and slashed at the scarecrow standing in the field several times, knocking it down. Pointing his sword at the straw figure, he declared confidently,

"Watch as I become a Sword Immortal, vanquish demons for the path of righteousness, punish evil...punish that...uh..."

He didn't enjoy reading and often skipped classes, so halfway through his speech, he was stuck.

A youth next to him promptly continued, "Punish evil and promote good! Uphold justice! Benefit the world! Clear the land in all directions!"

Nian snorted, disdainfully saying, "You're quite the talker."

The man hadn't expected his flattery to backfire, and he couldn't help feeling awkward, "Uh..."

Nian swung his sword a few more times and said, "Clearing the land in all directions relies on strength, not your useless tongue. From now on, if I encounter another demon like Mo Ran, I can take his head with one strike of my sword. What could you do against him? Recite poetry? Hahahaha—"

As he was about to laugh, a leisurely voice suddenly echoed from the courtyard behind, followed by the crisp sound of two applause. Someone said,

"Lord Nian, you truly live up to being the young master of Life and Death Peak... So majestic."

"!!" Nian swiftly interposed the sword in front of himself, his expression instantly changing as he exclaimed fiercely, "Mo Ran? ? ? ? !"

A colossal cloud drifted lazily across the sky, gradually obscuring the blazing sun and casting a vast shadow over the sun-baked field.

The disheveled youth, in a manner as inexplicable as the sudden swoop of a hawk, materialized atop the piled firewood in the sun-baked yard, slowly lifting his head.

His face, though gaunt, revealed upon closer inspection an exquisite and symmetrical set of features. At this moment, his eyes blazed with intensity, while above his brows lingered the grotesque scars of lash marks—remnants of his recent imprisonment, with blood stains yet to be wiped away. As Nian gazed upon this visage, it struck him as both intimately familiar and strangely alien.

The person before him was indeed Mo Ran, but something seemed amiss.

With a curve of his eyes, Mo Ran smiled as he tenderly caressed the cleaver in his hand. His dimples, like turbulent pools and frigid clearings, conveyed an inexplicable intimacy and gentleness, yet also an indescribable chill that sent shivers down one's spine.

"....Upholding righteousness, cleansing all directions? Young Master Mo Nian, the future Great Sword Immortal, the heir of Death and Life Peak. When did you harbor such aspirations? It truly amuses me to death, hahaha—"

The more he spoke, the broader his smile became, distorting his features.

From a young age, the firewood-stacking child in this shed had always been obedient and quiet, accepting his fate without complaint and speaking little. But after just one night, he seemed to have emerged from a chrysalis like a moth drawn to flames, laughing wildly and provocatively.

He had rarely smiled before, and when he did, it was with a timid, pursed-lip grin.

Now, however, he was pushed to the brink of madness.

The group of youths recoiled in shock. Nian's hand holding the sword trembled slightly, but with a swallow, he steeled himself and shouted, "Mo Ran, have you grown the courage of a lion or leopard? To dare escape, I'll do the people a favor and deal with your dog life on behalf of the authorities!"

"Great," Mo Ran laughed recklessly. A glint of steel flashed in his eyes as he charged forward. "I don't want to live like this anymore. If you have the skill to take my worthless life, then go ahead and do it. But if you don't, well—"

Before he could even finish his sentence, he had already darted forward. The light flickered, the machete swung down, and with a resounding clang, Nian's long sword hit the ground, followed by his wide-eyed head, rolling together across the floor.

Blood spurted high, splashing several yards away!

His headless body wobbled for a moment before collapsing with a thud.

Silence fell over the scene.

Mo Ran's face was drenched in blood, tattered scraps of cloth clinging to his body like seaweed in a briny breeze.

When he lifted his head again, the smile on his face had grown more sinister, his bloodshot eyes glistening as he licked the blood that had splattered onto his lips. He finished the sentence he had left hanging earlier in a gentle tone, "Then let me take your head."

The youths were so frightened that their bones turned icy cold; they couldn't even utter a word.

Mo Ran lifted his gaze, his eyes frigid. "Weren't you all so powerful? Weren't you all so skilled at turning the tables? Weren't you all so good at fighting?! Exorcising demons and defending justice, punishing evil and promoting virtue... very well! Come at me all at once!"

None of them dared to approach, their legs trembling like sieves, their bodies convulsing with fear. They could hardly believe it was Mo Ran, the one who had always been submissive and endured all sorts of injustices without complaint?

Mo Ran raised his head, sighed, then dragged his cleaver forward, step by step. The tip of the blade drew a bloody trail along the ground.

"Why are you all suddenly so polite?" He smiled faintly, flipping the blade upward with a swoosh, the corners of his mouth curving up. "Since none of you are willing to make a move, I'll have to go first."

In an instant, a rain of blood and a maelstrom of violence ensued.

It was closing time at the Drunken Jade Tower, and most of its occupants were resting. After Mo Ran killed those in the backyard, he went to the chambers and took out the rest one by one. Some had their throats slit while they slept, others woke up to a flash of knife light and the world spinning upside down.

By the time anyone realized what was happening, it was already too late. Mo Ran set fires everywhere, engulfing the Drunken Jade Tower in a sea of flames. The cries of the performers and servants echoed through the air, filled with sorrow and desperation, but no one dared to rush into the inferno to save them.

By the time he was down to a few remaining victims, Mo Ran had grown unsatisfied with simply taking lives. Amidst the blazing inferno, he casually sat in the center of the hall, smiling as he watched those whose limbs he had severed, unable to move, including his foster mother, Mo Mama. Mo Ran observed them squirm and twitch like maggots, tears streaming down their faces. His features were obscured by the thick smoke and raging flames.

The cleaver rested on his knee, but instead of using it to kill them, he picked up the handle and used the tip to pluck a cluster of tender grapes from a table. He held them in his hand, slowly peeling and removing the stems before popping each one into his mouth, chewing them deliberately.

Suddenly, he beamed and said, "Oh? These are delicious. I've never tasted grapes from the Western Regions before. So this is what you've been enjoying every day."

He lowered his head, lost in thought for a moment, then chuckled and remarked, "I really am envious."

A burning beam cracked and crashed down, sparks flying, landing near them. Everyone let out even more piteous wails, except for Mo Ran, who continued to sit with his chin in his hand, legs crossed, holding the knife, diligently finishing his grapes as if the collapsing world had nothing to do with him.

"The fire is so intense; we can't all escape," Mo Ran said after finishing the grapes. He picked a peach and began eating it, smiling as he spoke. "Why don't we just sit here and chat?"

Mo Mama shouted, "Who wants to talk to you! You beast! You're worse than a pig or a dog! More monstrous than any animal!"

"Not interested?" Mo Ran spat out the grape seeds, grinning. "If not, then never mind. Let's get down to business. Last night, Foster Mother mentioned that for the past ten years, you all have stood by me, and she has taken great care of me. Now, it's only right for me to repay her kindness. So, I'll send you all on your way."

He stood up, walked around the group, and bowed respectfully, saying brightly, "But don't wander too far on the road to the Underworld. Wait for me."

Everyone else wailed, while Mo Mama screamed, "Mo Ran!!! You miserable dog! When Xun Girl took pity on you and took you in, I shouldn't have agreed out of a moment of kindness! You're a disaster, a harbinger of doom! You... you twisted beast!"

"How dare you mention Sister Xun?"

Mo Ran spoke coolly. "Back then, I rushed to Wubai Temple to fulfill my mother's last wish and repay her kindness. Knowing that I had lost my mother, she gave all the money she earned in a year to you, hoping you would let me stay and have a place to call home. She was my benefactor, and what about you? What are you?"

"I shouldn't have agreed to her request! I shouldn't have—what does a year's worth of money matter? You actually secretly let her go later! She was the top performer at the Drunken Jade Tower! How much money could she earn from one song? Do you even know? Yet you...you..."

Mo Ran interrupted her. "She was my mother's benefactor and mine as well. She sold her art but not herself at the Drunken Jade Tower. But you took the rich merchant's money and sold her out, forcing her to entertain guests. Tell me, why shouldn't I have let her go?!"

"You've hated me and tormented me all these years, but I kept quiet, didn't resist. My mother told me that anyone who gives me food can't be utterly wicked." Mo Ran closed his eyes. "I endured, I endured it all..."

"Pah! You still have the nerve to say that? You ungrateful wretch! It was me! Me who gave you a place to live and food to eat, allowing this little beggar to have a bed! You beast, you son of a bitch!"

"..., huh, how coincidental. Son of a bitch?" Mo Ran laughed in the firelight. "If your son hears you cursing me like this, would he think you're calling him?"

As he spoke, he walked over and pinched the nanny's heavily powdered face.

"However, foster mother, you've reminded me. All these years, you've given me food and a bed. Thank you. Since that's the case, let me send you on your way first."

"You—"

"However, to liven things up, why don't we play a game first?" Mo Ran suggested enthusiastically. "How about Blind Man's Guess? What do you think?"

As he spoke, he picked up a small broken piece of wood from the ground and lit its tip on fire. Then, he placed it over Mother Momo's eyes, slowly tracing the outline of a sun. Wherever the burning wood touched, skin sizzled and flesh burned, causing Mother Momo to cry out in agony. But Mo Ran smiled at her and said,

"Mother, try to guess what I've drawn. If you can't, then you lose, and I'll draw something else."

That day, each of the remaining individuals suffered a slow and torturous death.

He unleashed a decade's worth of pent-up malice and frustration, leaving the Drunken Jade Tower in ruins, filled with charred corpses.

In the end, he lay among the twisted bodies, engulfed in flames. He gazed at the crumbling pagoda with a grin, feeding himself pastries and fruits, one bite at a time.

"Tasty."

He paused, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. His eyelashes fluttered, and tears began to roll down his radiant face, streaking it with moisture. He reached up to cover his eyes, laughing through his tears.

"It's a shame I won't get to taste them again..."

The black wooden plaque of the Drunken Jade Tower plummeted down, shattering into pieces upon impact. Amidst the thick smoke, the ornate building finally crumbled with a thunderous roar.

This tower, once accustomed to the melodies of pipa and dance, the stains of silk robes and wine. It had known boundless splendor and revelry.

Now, all the past extravagance has faded, reduced to ashes like the remnants of a bygone era. The joys and sorrows of love, the entanglements of passion, have all vanished with each beam and plank consumed in flames. Through the cracks in the wood and the gaps in the tiles, the ethereal melodies of the two legendary courtesans' competing songs seem to echo once more.

Duan Yihan sings, "Such beauty as these blossoming flowers—"

Xun Fengruo intones, "Are now but fragments of ruined walls and decaying structures..."

Thus, this famous tower in Xiangtan meets its end amidst the elusive, illusory music, as the curtain falls, marking the final note of a protracted symphony. Amidst the roaring fire, those tragic or vibrant scenes come to a brilliant and solemn close.