The Husky and His White Cat Shizun

Chapter 310: The Final Card of "The Peak of Life and Death"

There was light.

When Mo Ran opened his eyes, he found himself lying amidst a purple-hued sky filled with clouds. He blinked slowly and turned his neck gently before getting up. He realized that it wasn't the sky, but rather a palace entirely constructed of amethyst, so vast that each brick was as large as a carriage, causing him to mistake it for the clouds.

In the distance, a tall man stood by the window, gazing outside.

The man wore a robe of indiscernible material, his feet bare. He held a luminous glass cup in his hand, idly swirling the amber liquid within. Outside the window, a vibrant red flower bloomed, its pistil shimmering with silver droplets.

No such attire or flowers exist in the mortal world, Mo Ran was certain.

Nor did such a palace.

"I am where?" he asked.

The man's fingers paused in their motion, and he turned half his face toward Mo Ran, though the light cast from behind obscured his features.

"You are quite composed, Hero," he remarked.

"..."

The man drained the cup of wine in one go and casually set it on the windowsill before approaching him.

Soon, Mo Ran could see clearly. This man had a face slightly reminiscent of Di Chen Shangguan's, with a crimson spider-like birthmark beneath his eye, and thin lips that suggested a short temper.

"I am the second generation Overlord of the Demon Realm," the man said leisurely, his eyes fixed on Mo Ran's reaction. "You are now in the Palace of Demons."

Mo Ran fell silent for a moment before replying, "If you hadn't told me, I would have assumed you were Lord Yama, King of Hell."

The man chuckled lightly. "You're so certain you're dead?"

"No," Mo Ran looked into his eyes. "I don't feel like I am. But I also don't feel like I'm alive."

The Demon Overlord's smile deepened. "You're right."

He extended his hand, and the tip of his black dragon-scale glove effortlessly pierced through Mo Ran's chest, yet Mo Ran felt no pain at all.

"You truly aren't alive," the Demon Overlord said. "You're just a gathered soul."

Mo Ran remained silent.

The Demon Sovereign said nonchalantly, "My ancestor decreed that unless they oppose the gods and disrupt Fu Xi's taboo spell, mortals who hold the Butterfly Bone Beauty Seat cannot return to the Demon Realm. …From the Precious Chess Game to the Door of Time and Life and Death, you did it all for them, my hero."

Mo Ran spoke gloomily, "That wasn't what I wanted to do. It was Hua Binan—"

"He's a mongrel, neither fully god nor demon," the Demon Sovereign said with contempt in his eyes. "He once swore he would never harm his own kind. But he didn't keep that promise."

"…You mean he harmed Song Qiutong?"

"No," the Demon Sovereign replied. His ruby-like eyes reflected Mo Ran's shadow. He raised his hand and gently stroked the face of Mo Ran's soul. "You know who I'm talking about."

"…"

"The moment the gate to the Demon Realm opened, you already sensed it." The Demon Sovereign's gaze was as sharp as a knife. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have agreed so readily with your little immortal lord. Deep down, you already understand."

Mo Ran didn't respond. His eyelashes drooped.

The Demon Sovereign slowly straightened up, casting a dark shadow with his towering figure. He said, "Mo Weiyu, you should be aware that there is a very special kind of Beauty Seat. They don't shed golden tears, and they don't carry any demonic aura. If they haven't acknowledged their ancestry, not even the rogue spirits of Phoenix Mountain, who bond with the Beauty Seat, can detect them. So some people never discover their true identity until the day they die…"

Mo Ran said dryly, "So what?"

The Demon Sovereign chuckled. "So what? ... You should be aware that someone like this, capable of inheriting the tyrannical spiritual power of the ancient demons, is similar to Venerated Transmogrification, Song Xingyi, from many years ago."

As he spoke, a purple-black luster suddenly flickered at the tip of his finger. He pointed it at Mo Ran, and the light halo drifted into Mo Ran's soul. At the same time, Mo Ran felt a surging power resonating through his three souls and six spirits before being completely absorbed by him.

The Demon Sovereign watched this scene with a smile. "See, you can indeed absorb the essence of our clan."

"..."

"I'm talking about you," the Demon Sovereign said. "You're another unique beauty seat after Song Xingyi. It's just that you never realized it. Hua Binan had no idea either."

Mo Ran lifted his gaze.

The Demon Sovereign, with his hands behind his back, looked out the window at the falling petals again. "It's pitiful how he swore to never harm his clan members and vowed to protect every butterfly-boned beauty seat he could. Yet, he ruined your life."

Mo Ran stood up from the ground. He wasn't in the mood to listen to all these irrelevant matters. Whether he was harmed or exploited, it was all in the past.

There was only one thing on his mind now. "Can I go back?"

"Where do you want to return?" the Demon Sovereign glanced back at him. "To the mortal realm?"

"The mortal realm."

"What's so good about that place? Just a bunch of insignificant ants. You have both the ability and the ambition, and you were originally one of our kind," the Demon Sovereign said nonchalantly. "It's precisely because you're a demon that I can summon your soul and call you back to the Demon Palace. If you stay here, you'll have a lifespan of ten thousand years. Your strength has shown me that you can serve our clan."

But Mo Ran smiled. "Sorry, I've never served anyone but myself."

The Demon Sovereign's crimson eyes locked onto him, not speaking, but with a hint of scrutiny and reproach.

"...Alright." Mo Ran said. "There's only one exception. I'm willing to serve him."

The Demon Sovereign scoffed. "You're serving a piece of wood?"

"He's not just a piece of wood."

The Demon Sovereign rolled his eyes. "I was being polite when I called him Little Immortal Lord. He's not even a deity; he's just a rotten sprout that Old Man Shennong planted." Seeing that Mo Ran was getting angrier, the Demon Sovereign stopped and turned aside, leaning his slender waist against the windowsill. "Are you not quite right in the head?"

"Let me make something clear to you," the Demon Sovereign said. "If you really intend to go back, you won't receive any support from our demonic clan. You'll only live for a few decades, at most a century."

Mo Ran had been tense until this point, but upon hearing this, he unexpectedly laughed. "For so long?"

"..."

"In human years, that's practically living to a hundred."

The demon seemed somewhat perplexed, and also a bit annoyed. "A human life is but a fleeting existence; what can you accomplish in mere decades? Or even a century? You tore through the Door of Time and Life, grasped the Precious Chess Game, and even old Fu Xi up in heaven must be half-dead with anger from your antics. With such talent, how could you be content being a lowly turtle wallowing in the mud?" As he spoke, his mood worsened, and he finally declared, "Idiot."

Mo Ran lowered his gaze, his long eyelashes fluttering. The demon initially thought he was enraged, but after a moment, upon closer inspection, realized he was suppressing laughter.

The Demon Sovereign: "..............."

Mo Ran lifted his head, his smile radiant. "How did you know?"

"..."

"Many people on earth say I'm foolish."

The Demon Sovereign massaged his temples, appearing as if he had a headache. He was almost groaning, "How could there be such an embarrassing demon..."

"I've never considered myself demonic," Mo Ran said. "It was only in that fleeting moment when the Gate of Demons opened that I sensed it within me."

The Demon Overlord glared at him.

Mo Ran chuckled, then fell silent. He looked at the Demon Overlord and said, "Regardless, thank you for protecting my soul."

"I value talent."

Mo Ran shook his head. He had no intention of continuing this conversation with the Demon Overlord.

Instead, he used those eyes that once captivated countless hearts to gaze sincerely and earnestly at the man before him, and said, "But I'm sorry. I have to return to the mortal world."

"..."

No one spoke another word.

"Reason," the Demon Overlord finally demanded, his voice stiff. "Give me a reason."

"Because I made a promise to someone."

Mo Ran spoke.

"I vowed that I would return to his side."

At Treading Snow Palace on Kunlun Mountain.

At this very moment, the snow on Heavenly Mountain had ceased, and the temporal rift had finally closed. The torrent of events from their past life, with its cycle of life and death, felt like a ridiculous dream.

Dawn's first light began to filter through, casting an expansive and tranquil scene across the heavens and earth.

"Master Chu!"

"Grandmaster! Grandmaster!"

Voices called out to him faintly in his ears, gradually drawing his consciousness back.

Chu Wanning opened his eyes, his gaze initially empty. It seemed as if the dust of two lifetimes had settled within them. For a moment, he thought he was on the Peak of Life and Death, awakened by the noisy chatter of his disciples on a winter afternoon. Or perhaps he imagined himself in the dark and chilly Wu Mountain Palace, where Uncle Liu stood by his bedside, sighing, and calling him back to the world.

It took a long while for his eyes to regain clarity. His brown irises shifted as he looked at the cultivators surrounding him. Snow was falling from the sky, and night clung desperately to the last moments before dawn. Through the mist, a hint of rosy hues from the approaching sunrise began to emerge.

He half-closed his eyes and muttered hoarsely, "Mo Ran…"

It was as if the deceased youth was responding to his longing, or perhaps it was an illusion born from his deep obsession—he suddenly saw several golden-red streaks of light float out from the shattered remnants of the Gate of Life and Death, gliding across the crimson sky before vanishing into the distance…

What were those? !

Chu Wanning abruptly opened his eyes, but not because of the cries of those around him; it was due to those golden-red hues.

…What were they?!

His fading hope flickered back to life with the mystical glow. Struggling to his feet without any assistance and without another word, Chu Wanning staggered after the ethereal light, leaving behind worried voices.

"Grandmaster Chu…"

At last, the dust had settled, and people realized that Mo Weiyu was no criminal. The price paid, however, was too steep. How much value did this posthumous redemption hold?

But just like how Mo Ran never cared about public opinion, he remained pure in his own way, and allowed himself to be tainted, to be wild, to be mad. The same could be said for Chu Wanning. Both of them sought nothing more than a life without regret.

"Master!!"

Xue Meng was about to pursue, but after only a few steps, he heard a commotion in the crowd.

From Solitary Moon Night's side, a disciple cried out in panic, "Patriarch! Patriarch, what happened to you?!"

Xue Meng froze, then turned abruptly and pushed through the crowd. He saw Jiang Xi collapse onto the snowy ground, unable to support himself, with a large pool of blood spreading beneath him.

"What's going on?!" an elder from Solitary Moon Night roared. "Wasn't he fine just now?! How did this happen?!"

A disciple timidly pointed at a grotesque scar on Jiang Xi's waist and abdomen.

"It's... It must be from being struck by a sharp object in the flood earlier, right? The Patriarch must have been afraid of causing more chaos, so he didn't say anything..."

A faint smell of blood permeated the air. Before dawn arrived, Jiang Xi fell in the now-peaceful mortal world, closing his eyes in the now-still present reality.

"Quick, heal him!"

"What are you still standing there for?! Save him!"

Xue Meng's mind was in turmoil. Unsteady on his feet, he still held the Snow Phoenix that Jiang Xi had given him. He turned his head, attempting to follow Chu Wanning's retreating figure, but after moving only a fraction of an inch, he collapsed to the ground with a thud, ultimately breaking down in sobs.

He was unaware that amidst this vast and boundless landscape, love, hatred, and passion could be found nowhere else. Among the mortals, there were no longer familiar faces to accompany him. Those impetuous and carefree days of youth, when he roamed the lands wielding his sword as a hero, were now nothing but a fleeting memory, never to return.

Upon the snowy peaks of Qiong Mountain, Chu Wanning watched the golden-red glow soar into the heavens, bound for distant mountains...

"Trust me, I'll do my best to see you."

"I'll be waiting for you in another world."

A chill ran down his spine, but Chu Wanning dared not entertain hopeful thoughts. He would not allow himself to indulge in such luxuries until he had seen the truth with his own eyes.

At that moment, the sun pierced through the darkness of the Great Abyss, rising from the chill of the previous night. Golden rays cascaded over the rugged and precipitous mountain paths, illuminating the vast sea of people. The dawn emerged, casting a pale pink hue upon the crowd, while radiant gold celebrated their survival from the calamity.

Chu Wanning gazed at the sun ascending in the east, a charm twirling between his fingers. A flash of golden light.

"Rise, Dragon — Summon!"

A long, resonant cry echoed. His candlelit paper dragon burst through the snowstorm, its massive form coiling around like a mighty bell.

The little dragon lifted its head, seeing that the mortal world was still intact, and filled with joy, it couldn't help but jest with its master, "All is calm now?"

"Mm."

"Are you done?"

"Mm."

The paper dragon grew even more delighted. It soared and circled in the air before reluctantly descending, just like every time it met him, jesting, "Oh right, Chu Wanning, why are you always alone?"

Chu Wanning stood silently in the biting wind, snowflakes falling onto his long eyelashes. He kept replaying Mo Ran's parting words in his mind, feeling his heart pounding like a drum. After a moment of silence, he lifted his head to address the dragon basking in the sun's rays, "Take me somewhere."

"Where to?"

Chu Wanning mounted the dragon's back. The massive creature rose up, and he faced the swirling snowfall, overlooking the earth clad in silver. The sun was growing brighter and more radiant. Amidst this dawn's first light, he instructed the dragon, "To Mount Nanping. I need to see him."

The dragon momentarily considered making up an excuse, but its horns perked up, and it remained silent.

In truth, it was well aware of where its master wished to return and who he sought. It let out a mighty roar of the ocean, and before ascending into the heavens, Chu Wanning glanced back at the magnificent landscape.

Vast skies, endless clouds. He had followed the golden light from the snowy, misty Kunlun Path, finally racing towards—the distant land of Jianghu, where gentle rain had just begun to fall.

Mo Ran had promised he would return.

So he trusted him and went to the place where they last parted, to meet him once more.

"You said... could those golden lights be his returning spirit?"

Torch Dragon surged through the sea of clouds, grumbling, "You ask me, who do I ask?"

"Will those spirits return to his body?"

Torch Dragon reluctantly replied, "Probably..."

Nanping Mountain was soon in sight. Without hesitation or doubt, Chu Wanning seemed certain that the golden glow would ultimately find its way back. He rode Torch Dragon, settling down in the bamboo grove deep within Nanping.

"Is the person you're looking for here?"

Chu Wanning didn't respond. He dismounted from the dragon, feeling as if a mountain were weighing on his chest, making it hard to breathe.

"I stored Mo Ran's body here before." His fingers trembled involuntarily. "So if his soul can come back, then..."

He had intended to say that he would surely be here, but the words lingered on his lips without being spoken.

What if he wasn't here?

He still wanted to hold onto a glimmer of hope, not wanting to close all doors.

Torch Dragon, with a somewhat oversensitive nature, shook its head and said, "But what if he doesn't come back?"

"..."

"What if those rays of golden light dissipate before reaching here?"

"..."

"What if—"

Chu Wanning suddenly turned around, his gaze fierce yet his eyes rimmed with red, "Then I'll burn you to accompany him in death."

"Oh dear, I'm so scared."

Torch Dragon grumbled softly before transforming into a beam of golden light. Its enormous body shrunk into a tiny snake, coiling around Chu Wanning's shoulder. It nudged its head against its master's cheek.

Familiar with Chu Wanning's personality, the dragon knew he wouldn't really burn it. It sighed, "Looking at your expression, I feel like you'd rather join him in his grave."

As it spoke, it used the tip of its tail to scratch the back of Chu Wanning's head.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm afraid if I don't do this, you'll faint," the little dragon sighed, swishing its tail. "Your face looks terrible."

"..."

"You look like a gambler who's staked all his life savings for one final bet."

For once, Chu Wanning didn't refute it. He closed his eyes.

The little dragon said it was his life's savings, but that wasn't entirely accurate.

That person was his disciple in two lifetimes, his lover in two lifetimes – a fool who, with their flesh and blood, had been willing to plunge into the mire for his grand, pure cause.

It was the remainder of his life.

The mountain path was long and snowy, creaking underfoot.

In the distance stood an old, dilapidated cottage. Chu Wanning stood before it, his fingers trembling. Before him was merely an aged, neglected courtyard gate, yet it seemed heavier and more inaccessible than the gates to the demonic realm. His Adam's apple bobbed, and his blood rushed.

He was as stiff as a plank, raising his hand multiple times only to let it fall back down just before touching the gate.

Little Dragon: "Oh dear, if you don't push the door open soon, I will. I—"

The door swung open.

It wasn't Chu Wanning who pushed the door open, nor was it the little dragon who crashed through.

The door was slightly ajar, perhaps an act of compassion from the gentle breeze, sympathizing with the parted souls, unwilling to bear the sorrow of the one left behind. Thus, the wind sighed softly, gently pushing open the slender wooden gate.

Chu Wanning stood outside the room.

A patch of ground within the thatched cottage lay before my eyes, with bare trees still yet to bud. Yet, their branches were dusted with a thin layer of snow. When the wind blew, the snowflakes fell like floating hawthorn blossoms, scattering into the golden dawn.

Then, it landed on the shoulder of a man.

Hearing the sound, the figure paused slightly before slowly turning around.

The play of light and shadow seemed to bring about a rejuvenation of spring, with the intensity of summer's glow.

Sounds that Chu Wanning couldn't hear before—the wind, the falling snow, the rustling of leaves—reached his ears once more. All the myriad things in the world surged back into his embrace like an ebb tide.

He stood rooted to the spot, yearning to dash forward, but his limbs felt as heavy as lead, rendering him immobile. At this moment, Chu Wanning seemed to hear the chorus of cicadas beneath the Tower of Heaven from many years ago.

That was the most glorious period of Mo Ran's life.

The handsome youth with delicate features approached Elder Yu Heng, who leaned against a tree. He walked towards the origin of everything, towards the beginning of their intertwined destinies.

"Chu Wanning..."

Little Dragon prodded him gently in the side.

Only then did Chu Wanning manage to regain some composure, though his throat remained tight, preventing him from uttering a single word.

He moved slowly toward the man standing beneath the withered tree, heading towards the end of all destinies, the conclusion of two lifetimes of pain, and the settling of dust.

The wind rustled through the leaves, producing a mournful sound. Chu Wanning seemed to have traversed countless epochs of war and chaos before finally standing before that man.

Just like so many years ago when the young Mo Weiyu had stood resolutely before the prime of Chu Wanning.

Looking up, he grinned.

"Immortal Lord, Immortal Lord."

The echoes of their past still lingered in his ears, but their reunion came after two lifetimes had passed.

"I've been watching you for so long, yet you haven't acknowledged me."

In the tranquil valley, pure glow of dawn illuminated their surroundings, as if it were just the two of them left in this world. Mo Ran wore an outer robe, his complexion still pale from recent illness.

He watched Chu Wanning approach him, emerging from the morning glow, his dark eyes gradually revealing an incomparably gentle expression.

"Shifu..."

The wind stilled, and through the rifts in the mist, a basin of morning light scattered, illuminating the bloodstained earth.

"I encountered a demon. And then, I had an intriguing experience that I must share with you..."

The chaos of the apocalypse had passed.

When many years had elapsed, where the blood once fell today—

Perhaps there might be new plum blossoms blooming.