The Husky and His White Cat Shizun

Chapter 37: This Seat Has Met the Great God

"Cold moon reflects on frosty snow, frigid mountains embrace icy pools. Not a single one of the eight thousand towering peaks can be surmounted, at the edge of the world, this very moment is unique."

Xue Meng, wearing deerskin gloves, gently brushed away the accumulated snow from the rugged boulder, reciting the vermilion inscriptions etched upon it. Turning back with delight, he exclaimed, "Master, we have arrived."

The peak of Xuri Mountain is perpetually shrouded in swirling snows, even as a radiant full moon now hangs high overhead. Its piercing lunar glow illuminates the icebound lake below, casting an atmosphere of desolate chill and frozen austerity. The Jincheng Lake, though frozen solid, remains unblemished by snow, resembling nothing less than a vast expanse of crystal-clear pearls, seamlessly spanning earth and sky. It seems as if the Milky Way itself has descended to the mortal realm, with stars scattered across the firmament for leagues upon leagues. Indeed, this spectacle is a vision of breathtaking grandeur, as if one had reached the very edge of the world, where even the hoary snows bow in reverence to the pristine white splendor.

A group of people arrived at the lakeside, where the smooth surface of the lake was overflowing with delicate and magnificent light, and a stone embankment stretched all the way to the center of the lake. Beside the embankment stood a stone monument, with frosty dew condensing on it and stone veins crisscrossing. Only the four seal script characters "Proposed Journey is Difficult" were vigorous and powerful, still clear in their strokes after a thousand years, and the cinnabar rubbing was bright red, as if someone had been constantly touching up and repainting it.

Chu Wanning paused before the stone embankment and said, "Only one person can enter Jin Chengchi's sword-seeking at a time. Who among you wishes to go first?"

Xue Meng eagerly spoke up, "Master, let me go first!"

Chu Wanning glanced at him, pondered for a moment, then shook his head. "You tend to act recklessly; I cannot entrust this to you."

At that moment, Shi Mo, standing aside, smiled and offered, "Master, allow me to go first. I doubt I would be able to dissolve the ice pool anyway."

On the vast ice lake, Shi Mo walked slowly along the narrow stone embankment, heading toward its end, designed for a single traveler.

Following tradition, he gathered a ball of spiritual energy in his palm before crouching down and pressing his hand against the ice – Shi Mo's spiritual energy flowed continuously through the ice, flickering with a soft white glow in the distance.

Mo Ran held his breath, standing still, his fingers tightening unconsciously in his palm.

But despite Shi Mo's prolonged efforts by the lakeside, the ice lake remained unyielding. He returned with a bitter smile, addressing Chu Wanning, "Master, I apologize."

"Never mind, try again after a few more years of cultivation."

Mo Ran let out a slight sigh, seemingly more disheartened than either of them, yet he still tried to comfort Shi Mo, "It's alright, there will be other opportunities. Next time, I'll accompany you again."

Chu Wanning said, "Save your words. Step forward, it's your turn now."

In his past life, when Mo Ran had come to seek the sword, he was a reckless youth, filled with anticipation for the divine weapon. However, in this life, he was simply here to retrieve the sword, already aware of what awaited him. The nervousness and anticipation were gone, replaced by a tender warmth at the prospect of reuniting with an old friend.

Walking along the stone embankment, he knelt before the icy lake.

Bending down, his palm touched the ice.

Mo Ran closed his eyes.

His unsheathed Mysterious Blade...

That blade of sin and atrocity that had accompanied him through countless vistas of flowers and sips of human blood...

Opening his eyes, Mo Ran whispered softly to the lake, "BuGui, I'm here."

As if responding to its destined master's call, an enormous black shadow suddenly emerged beneath Jin Chengchi's frozen surface. It swirled beneath the ice, becoming clearer and more vivid by the moment.

Suddenly, the thousand-foot-thick ice cracked with a resounding noise. From afar, Mo Ran heard Xue Meng's startled cry on the shore, barely audible amidst the chaos.

"The ice is melting!"

Waves surged, and the water from the pond shot up into the sky. A dark green dragon coiled upward, each scale spanning seven feet. In an instant, Jin Chengchi's surface was engulfed in a tumultuous swell, mist swirling around the dragon as it shimmered in the moonlight, exhaling a gust of breath.

Simultaneously, an ancient barrier descended by the pool, separating Chu Wanning and the others from Mo Ran.

Inside the barrier, one man faced off against the dragon.

Mo Ran squinted, gazing up at the dragon through the rain of water.

There, the dragon was holding a black broadsword between its jaws - no scabbard, just an ancient and simple yet sharp blade that could bend iron and cut gold. Adjusting the size to suit a human, the dragon slowly arched its radiant body and placed the sword before Mo Ran.

But it didn't lift its head immediately. Instead, it fixed its enormous, golden-yellow eyes – each as tall as two grown men – on Mo Ran.

The dragon's eyes were like two copper mirrors, reflecting Mo Ran's image clearly. Mo Ran held his breath, waiting for it to speak.

If nothing unexpected happened, he would simply have to pick a plum blossom from the mountain foot and present it to the old dragon, who was pretentiously cultivating refinement, allowing Mo Ran an easy gain.

To his surprise, after waiting for a long while, this dragon didn't bestow the weapon as it had in his previous life. Instead, its whiskers danced, and those colossal yellow eyes narrowed. Then, it lifted one of its front claws and wrote two characters in the snow in front of Mo Ran:

A mortal?

Mo Ran was taken aback.

He clearly remembered that in his previous life, this dragon could speak. Why then, was it mute in this lifetime?

After writing those two characters, the mute dragon immediately refuted its own assumption. With its thick, scaly claws, it erased the words and wrote another sequence:

No, mortals couldn't possess such potent spiritual energy. So, are you from the Divine Race?

Mo Ran: "..."

After a moment of contemplation, the Old Dragon shook its head and wrote again:

Not a god, there's an evil aura about you. Are you from the Ghost Clan?

Mo Ran thought to himself, What nonsense is this! All that happened was that I was reborn. Why all this pondering? Just give me back my saber!

Seemingly sensing Mo Ran's eagerness for his saber, the Old Dragon suddenly lifted its fearsome, scaly claw and pressed the broadsword beneath it. With its other claw, it erased the previous markings, added more snow, and continued writing:

Apologies if I've offended you. I saw two additional apparitions within you, a rare sight indeed. Are you human or spirit, divine or demonic?

Mo Ran raised an eyebrow. "Of course I'm human. Isn't that obvious?" It's just that he'd died once before.

The Old Dragon paused before writing again: A soul fragmented like this is something I've never witnessed nor heard of.

Seeing the dragon shake its head in what seemed like ignorance, Mo Ran couldn't help but chuckle. "What's so strange about that? Rather, Senior, how can I earn your approval to inherit this blade?"

The Old Dragon studied him for a moment and then wrote:

Then stay right where you are and let me examine your soul with my magic. I'll give you the saber, alright?

"..."

Not expecting such a request, Mo Ran was momentarily taken aback, and genuinely hesitated.

He wondered what would happen if this ancient being were to see his past life.

But Hereafter was right before him, and the power of this Stranger's Saber was ruthless and formidable, a rare divine weapon in the world. If he refused now, it would be impossible to obtain it later on.

After a moment of hesitation, Mo Ran looked up and asked, "It's possible, but Senior, would you still give me the knife no matter what you see in me?"

The Old Dragon wrote meticulously:

This is the rule, and I won't go back on my word.

Regardless of whether I was good or evil in the past?

The Old Dragon paused again before continuing to write:

Even if you were once wicked, I cannot hinder you; I only hope that you will turn to goodness in the future.

Mo Ran clapped his hands and laughed. "Very well, since you put it that way, I have no reason to refuse. Please, proceed with your divination."

The Old Dragon slightly raised its body, arching its luminous dragon form, and exhaled a breath. Immediately after, its eyes shimmered with a layer of crimson glow.

Mo Ran looked up and realized that the red light was actually a thin veil of mist. The blood-colored fog deepened, gradually obscuring his reflection. After a moment, as the mist slowly dissipated, his figure reappeared in the Old Dragon's eyes.

But this time, Mo Ran abruptly noticed that besides himself, there were two indistinct shadows also reflected in the dragon's eyes, standing on either side of him, hauntingly.

Startled, Mo Ran immediately turned around, but behind him was nothing but an empty space filled with falling snow. There was no sign of anyone else.

As he turned back, the two figures in the dragon's eyes became clearer, as if submerged objects rising to the surface of water. Staring for a while, Mo Ran suddenly found these shadows eerily familiar—he couldn't resist taking two steps forward. To his astonishment, the two apparitions in the dragon's eyes suddenly opened their eyes from their previously closed state!

Shi Mo!

Chu Wanning? !

Never in his wildest dreams did Mo Ran expect them to be the ones. His shock was immense, causing him to stagger backward, unable to form coherent words. "How—this is—"

In the old dragon's eyes, the three figures stood silently, their faces tranquil and devoid of any emotion as they gazed peacefully into the distance.

Mo Ran was utterly shocked. After a while, he saw the red blood mist rise again, and the shadows in the dragon's eyes began to blur before ultimately vanishing.

The old dragon exhaled, its whiskers quivering, then swiftly inscribed:

I have never encountered anything like this in my life. Never have I seen someone's soul bear the imprints of two others. It is truly bizarre.

"I-I have... their imprints on my soul?"

Yes.

Pausing after writing that word, the old dragon added:

I cannot fathom what you've been through, what profound obsession could cause your soul to be so entangled with another?

Mo Ran stared at the crooked lines of text in the snow, as if he were choking, his face gradually turning red.

His obsession with Shi Mo ran deep, all the way to his bones. Even if it was etched into his soul, and even if the old dragon could see Shi Mo within him, he didn't think it was a big deal.

But what about Chu Wanning...?

What obsession could he possibly have with Chu Wanning?

Could excessive hatred also be considered an unyielding attachment?

Both the man and the dragon fell into deep contemplation, so much so that the waters of Jin Chengchi's lake rippled with an unusual disturbance, yet neither of them noticed.

By the time the towering waves tore through the air, crashing against the shore with a deafening roar, it was already too late.

Before their eyes, Jin Chengchi's lake seemed to have been cleaved in two by a blade, the waters surging high into the sky in two monstrous columns. Amidst the raging tidal waves, two groups of shadowy beasts charged forth. They had the bodies of leopards and the heads of oxen, though individually they were not as colossal as the Old Dragon. Yet, their horns shimmered with an icy glint, and their claws were razor-sharp. Despite their numbers, the Old Dragon was not intimidated; it gazed at them with its golden eye slanted.

Mo Ran asked, "What's happening?"

The Old Dragon paused and wrote, "Gouchen Upper Palace."

Upon reading these four words, Mo Ran was struck as if by lightning.

Gouchen Upper Palace was the domain of destruction and the ruler of all weapons. This primordial deity had forged the world's first sword, assisting Fu Xi in vanquishing demonic foes.

That majestic Primordial God, it turns out, is comprised of these several hundred oxen?

It was all too horrifying for Mo Ran to comprehend. As he stood there, stunned and bewildered, he suddenly heard a distant, melancholic sound of an xun flute echoing across the landscape.

The xun is an exceedingly ancient musical instrument; in their era, few remain who can still play it. As the sound of the xun draws nearer, the charging, tumultuous herd of beasts gradually slows, each one lowering its foreleg in turn to kneel on either side. After the tide-like assembly of creatures disperses, a man clad in resplendent attire, bearing a longsword, approaches riding atop a qilin.

The man had an elegant and handsome countenance, with clear brows and bright eyes, bearing a remarkably gentle face.

He stood against the wind, with the night snow cascading upon him. His robes billowed softly, while in his hand, a pottery flute called an xun exuded a deep, lustrous hue. Gently pressing its holes with his dexterous fingers, he brought it to his lips and began to play.

As the final note faded away, the hundred bull heads suddenly transformed into droplets of water, revealing that they had been mere illusions all along. The man set down his ocarina, studied Mo Ran for a moment, and then smiled warmly. "Truly, you are a remarkable individual, one not seen in tens of thousands of years. No wonder the Moon Gazer is curious about you. I am Gouchen of the Upper Palace, residing within Jin Chengchi. The weapons in this pond were crafted by me. A petty skill, forgive my modesty."

Despite hearing it from the Old Dragon and now from the man himself, Mo Ran still found it hard to believe. His face paled as he stammered, "You're Gouchen of the Upper Palace?"

The man remained unperturbed, smiling gently. "Indeed, that's me."

Mo Ran felt like he was suffocating. "...The Master of Ten Thousand Weapons?"

"Indeed," Gouchen raised his brows lightly, amusement in his eyes. "Future generations seem to have bestowed me with that title. How embarrassing. I merely pass the time by whittling knives or crafting small whips, yet people seem to think more of me than I deserve."

Mo Ran: "............"

It was truly annoying when capable people acted modest. Chu Wanning said calmly, "I have three divine weapons," but this Gou Chen Upper Palace was even more irritating, referring to his creations as "little knives" and "little whips." Why didn't he call the great Emperor Fu Xi a "little old man"?

Mo Ran took a while to recover and said, "S-So, shouldn't you be in the Divine Realm? Why are you in this... this pond...?"

"I enjoy tinkering, often disrupting the Heavenly Emperor's tranquility. Rather than endure his cold glares all day in the Divine Realm, I requested to descend to the mortal world."

...

Mo Ran was speechless. "How long have you been here?"

Gou Chen Upper Palace pondered for a moment before smiling. "Not too long, only a few hundred years."

"...A few hundred years," Mo Ran repeated, forcing a laugh. "Doesn't the Almighty think that's a little too long?"

Gou Chen Upper Palace smiled casually, waving his sleeves indifferently.

"Not really. Besides, after forging a sword for the Heavenly Emperor, my divine power was greatly depleted. It was dull staying in that realm filled with gems and pearls. This place is much better."

Although Mo Ran was curious about this legendary god of slaughter, he didn't think it appropriate to pry into personal matters. After some thought, he considered another matter more important, so he asked, "Divine One, you didn't come out to meet me today just because my soul is unique, right?"

"Why not? Your spiritual energy is rare and exceptional," the Upper Palace God of Gouchen smiled. "Giving you only this stranger blade would be an injustice to your talent."

Mo Ran chuckled. "Well, I guess it suits me well enough."

"The same was my initial impression," the Upper Palace God of Gouchen said with a smile. "But after careful observation, I realized that wasn't the case. Your potential is remarkable, which intrigues me. That's why I came out today – to invite you to the bottom of the lake for a chat. I want to see among those thousands of weapons, which one is best suited for you."

"..."

This was quite a shock. Even Heaven-Stepping Lord, with his vast knowledge, was momentarily stunned.

The Master of Ten Thousand Weapons actually wanted him to... choose a weapon?

Seeing that Mo Ran didn't respond, the Upper Palace God of Gouchen assumed he was hesitant due to fear and reassured him. "Don't worry. Although there are many monsters beneath the water, they all obey me and would never harm you. The Moon-Gazing Dragon can attest to that."

The Old Dragon remained silent, nodding slowly beside them.

Mo Ran, realizing the sincerity of the invitation, was slightly moved and asked, "If I were to accept, could I ask for a favor from the Divine One?"

"What kind of request?"

"The person who sought the sword just now is my dearest friend," Mo Ran said, pointing behind the barrier to the shore where Shi Mo was. "Since he was unable to obtain the sword earlier, I wondered if, by fulfilling the Divine's wish, the Divine might also grant me a favor and bestow a weapon upon him."

"I thought it would be something more difficult, but this is merely a simple task," the Palace Lord of Jiu Chen chuckled, suddenly waving his hand to dissolve the ancient, sky-reaching barrier in an instant.

"It's a piece of cake. Bring all three of them over. If they find a weapon they fancy, they're free to take it."

Mo Ran was overjoyed, never expecting things to work out so effortlessly. The thrill of Shi Mo obtaining a divine weapon surpassed even the prospect of getting a superior one for himself. He promptly agreed to the Palace Lord of Jiu Chen and, after Shi Mo and the others arrived, recounted the situation to the trio. Shi Mo and Xue Meng's eyes widened, while even Chu Wanning showed a slight stirring of emotion.

Observing from the side, the Palace Lord of Jiu Chen seemed to have had a realization, uttering an intrigued "Hmm?" before fixing his gaze on Chu Wanning.

"It's you?"