Ch51 – A solemn farewell

Translator: Abo Dammen

Jing Liansheng’s gaze remained fixed on Ci Ying. “What do you want me to do?” he finally asked, his voice calm yet carrying an instinctive wariness, as if unable to resist the Saint Child’s subtle allure.

Ci Ying’s lips curved into a faint, teasing smile. “You and I have sparred countless times, yet always stopped short. It was too predictable and too dull. I want you to promise me that the next time we meet, you will strike with everything you have without holding back.” 

Jing Liansheng was momentarily taken aback. He hadn’t expected such a demand. After a pause, he frowned, his voice carrying both resolve and acknowledgment. “As expected… you never yield to me.”

Ci Ying let out a soft, almost indulgent laugh, shaking his head with a sigh. “Ah, let it be, then.”

Jing Liansheng had never seen Ci Ying smile like this. There was something unfamiliar in the gesture, yet his own gaze hardened. “Very well. I promise. Next time we meet, I will spar with you fully, no restraint. It is either death or victory.”

Ci Ying’s eyes glimmered with satisfaction upon hearing this. “I know your word is your bond. Please, take care of yourself until that day. Keep your promise, Crown Prince.” 

Without another word, Ci Ying turned and silently pushed open the window. A cold wind swept in, and moonlight spilled over his slender shoulders like liquid silver. Only now did Jing Liansheng truly take in his appearance. It had been merely half a month, yet the normally ethereal Saint Child’s face was now gaunt, pale to near translucence. His robes fluttered lightly in the night wind, like a candle flickering against the dark.

Jing Liansheng’s throat tightened. He called out instinctively, “Ci Ying!”

Ci Ying paused, turning to him with a quiet, penetrating gaze.

In that fleeting moment of eye contact, Jing Liansheng felt his throat go dry. “The relay station… was it you who saved me?” 

Ci Ying froze, barely perceptibly, as if struck by the question. He held still for a long, long moment. His eyes slightly reddened, voice trembling just a touch. “Why would you think so?”

“I thought it through. That was the only possibility… though it’s hard to understand,” Jing Liansheng replied.

Ci Ying pressed his lips together, as though holding back a laugh that would not come, or tears that would not fall. After a long pause, he said softly, “Your Highness, cherish your life. When we meet again, I will tell you the answer.”

And with that, Ci Ying became a streak of moonlight, disappearing into the night. 

Jing Liansheng had to admit, he was always deceived by the purity in Ci Ying’s eyes.

He had fallen for it countless times before, had always suffered for letting the Saint Child approach.

Yet this time… he still chose to trust him.

He even truly looked forward to their next meeting. 

He even… genuinely began to value his life.

The once sharp, outspoken, and commanding Crown Prince had learned to hide his edges, to be prudent and cautious. He no longer clashed with the Emperor, quietly remaining in the Eastern Palace, closed off from the world, restraining all his sharpness overnight. The Emperor was pleased, frequently praising Jing Liansheng in court, “Finally, the Crown Prince understands the proprieties between ruler and subject, and the inviolability of Heaven’s will.” The ministers echoed his praise, commenting that the Crown Prince had grown increasingly mature and exhibited the bearing of a future ruler.

A month later, news arrived from the border. The Peng Kingdom’s forces, attempting to cross the passes, had inexplicably been annihilated.

Jing Liansheng almost instinctively suspected Ci Ying’s involvement. 

But on reflection, he knew it was impossible.

Even though Ci Ying was highly skilled in the heavenly arts and knew the terrain well, the enemy army was not without capable fighters, experts in martial arts and cultivation alike. Even if Ci Ying were extraordinarily brave, one man could not defeat thousands.

The mysterious annihilation of the enemy army, while strange, was undeniably a cause for great joy.

The entire nation celebrated. Even the Emperor let out a small sigh of relief. To be honest, though he trusted that the Ancient Lotus’s blessing could resolve any issue, it was far better if no crisis arose in the first place. 

The Emperor rejoiced, “Thanks to the Ancient Lotus! A divine blessing has descended. It must be the Lotus’s protection!”

He immediately commanded a grand ritual to offer thanks to the Ancient Lotus.

Jing Liansheng, who had long been at odds with the Lotus Sect, attended this ritual for the first time.

The Emperor, surprised at his presence, could not help but smile in satisfaction. “The Crown Prince finally shows respect to the national faith.” 

Jing Liansheng did not know how to respond. He had come carrying thoughts even he could not fully articulate. In the past few days, he had often found himself recalling the Saint Child standing in moonlight, like a thorn lodged in his heart.

Unexpectedly, Ci Ying, the Saint Child, was absent from such an important ritual.

Wu Ying explained, “Ci Ying has been in seclusion for over a month.”

Jing Liansheng frowned slightly, a complex emotion stirring within him. 

He remembered Ci Ying’s retreating figure, his pale, slender face, and the faintly reddened corners of his eyes.

The Saint Child’s absence left a subtle unease in Jing Liansheng’s heart, as if something essential had quietly been taken away. He rose at dawn, diligently practicing swordsmanship. By lamplight, he polished his blade with focus and care.

A servant asked curiously, “The fires of war have been extinguished, yet Your Highness seems even more diligent in your training?”

Jing Liansheng wiped the sword’s blade and looked up at the moon. “My sword has an appointment.” 

The servants exchanged puzzled glances, unsure what he meant, yet dared not ask further. They could only sense that the Crown Prince was no longer the same as before. There was a new resolve in his eyes, as if he were waiting for something, preparing for something, anticipating something.

Jing Liansheng had grown restrained and gentle. He wanted to live.

To live until the day he would see Ci Ying again.

Though… he had not yet managed to do so. 

On the day the Ancient Lotus bloomed, the Emperor performed a grand incense-offering ritual.

According to the rules of the Ancient Lotus’s vows, the Emperor did not trust others. To keep the wish for himself, he dismissed all attendants and performed the ritual alone.

After the ceremony, the Emperor ascended the high platform, wearing a golden dragon robe and a ceremonial crown. His gaze swept across the ministers, and he proclaimed loudly, “Today, before the Ancient Lotus, I make a grand vow, may our Lotus Kingdom prosper for a hundred years! The Ancient Lotus has also responded.”

The crowd below cheered with renewed vigor, kneeling and proclaiming, “Long live the Emperor! Long live the Lotus Kingdom!” 

Yet the Emperor’s face did not show joy. Instead, it grew heavier with concern. “However, the dream revealed by the Lotus foretells that the cost of this wish requires the sacrifice of my royal bloodline.”

At these words, ministers exchanged shocked glances. The imperial family was dumbstruck. None could believe what they had just heard.

The Emperor stood at the center of the altar, expression grave, brows furrowed with boundless reluctance. Within his sleeve, he pinched the webbing of his own hand. Pain surged instantly, tears forming in his eyes.

He knelt, hands clasped toward the heavens, grief-stricken. “Ancient Lotus above! I am willing to offer myself as a sacrifice to protect my kin. If the Ancient Lotus has spirit, take my life alone, spare the rest of my bloodline!” 

His voice echoed across the empty altar, filled with a heart-wrenching earnestness.

The ministers below were visibly moved. Some hid their faces, while others bowed silently, as though touched by the Emperor’s selfless devotion.

Jing Liansheng knelt quietly in the shadow of the grand altar, eyes lowered, silently observing the Emperor’s grief-stricken devotion. The cold stone beneath his knees contrasted sharply with the heated sorrow radiating from the man above. He could feel the weight of the moment, the gravity of the sacrifice that the Emperor was willing to bear for his kin.

Though the ministers were moved, some wiping tears, some bowing in solemn respect, Jing Liansheng knew that the ritual’s meaning stretched far beyond their understanding. It was a display of authority, filial piety, and a willingness to shoulder the burden of the realm, all wrapped in a spectacle of grief and reverence. 

The Emperor’s hands trembled slightly as he unclasped them, eyes still glistening with unshed tears. Slowly, he lowered his head, the brilliance of the golden dragon robe almost seeming to dim in his sorrow. Jing Liansheng’s gaze followed every motion, every subtle expression, and in his chest, a strange mixture of awe and unease stirred.

He could sense that the Ancient Lotus’s blessing had responded, its ethereal glow faintly shimmering across the petals. Yet the cost of such divine favor was etched deeply in the Emperor’s very being, a sacrifice that made the blessing all the more poignant.

As the ritual concluded, Jing Liansheng rose to his feet. The courtyard lay bathed in a serene moonlight, the lingering incense curling in soft spirals toward the night sky. Despite the celebration below, the weight of responsibility pressed heavily on him. He understood that the prosperity of the Lotus Kingdom came not without price, and that the Emperor’s vow was a testament to the fine line between duty and personal loss.

For Jing Liansheng, this scene engraved itself into memory as an indelible lesson on leadership, loyalty, and the sacrifices hidden beneath grandeur. His heart, though still tender with youthful longing, felt a quiet resolve settle within. He would live, not just for himself, but to honor the efforts and sacrifices of those who bore the weight of the kingdom. 

And somewhere in the shadowed recesses of his thoughts, the memory of Ci Ying lingered like a faint, persistent light, with that promise that he would see each other again. Until then, he would endure, he would train, and he would prepare for whatever trials awaited, both mortal and mystical, on the path that lay before him.

Wu Ying stood solemnly to the side, his expression grave. He muttered incantations under his breath as he cast the divination turtle. Watching the copper plate hit the ground, he shook his head with a tinge of sorrow. “Your Majesty’s selfless sacrifice is admirable. Yet, the Ancient Lotus’s decree has already been issued, there is no turning it back!”

At his words, the entire hall fell silent, as if even the wind had stopped blowing.

The Emperor trembled at the words. Tears welled in his eyes, yet he spoke no more. Slowly, he rose and cast his gaze over the officials below, his expression heavy with solemnity. “I shall fast and purify myself, praying for forty-nine days straight, hoping to move the Ancient Lotus and secure the safety of my kin.” 

The ministers knelt en masse, shouting in unison, “Your Majesty is benevolent! Long live the Lotus Kingdom!”

The righteous Emperor began his fasting and prayers, demonstrating a deeply moving compassion.

Meanwhile, all members of the imperial family were “protected,” confined within the palace. Though the Ancient Lotus’s vision only required the sacrifice of the Emperor’s direct descendants, the Emperor, out of caution, brought all relatives within three degrees of kin into the palace to pray, showing extreme devotion.

The implication behind such an action was clear. The astute ministers all understood the divine will. They petitioned repeatedly, urging the Emperor to prioritize the kingdom over personal sacrifice. Naturally, the Emperor refused again and again. “How could I bear to offer my kin as sacrifice?” 

One minister bowed deeply. “Your Majesty, for the sake of the Lotus Kingdom, it is a righteous act to endure this pain. We humbly implore you to prioritize the state and not let personal feelings endanger the realm.”

The Emperor’s temper flared immediately. “Enough! I would rather sacrifice myself than offer my family!”

“Though royal blood is precious, the prosperity of the Lotus Kingdom is even more crucial. Your Majesty is wise. Decide decisively, do not sacrifice the greater for the lesser,” a favored minister advised promptly.

The Emperor’s voice choked with emotion. “You… do not force me…” 

The ministers understood perfectly.

…You want us to push harder, to press further, don’t you?

The Emperor’s throat remained tight. Yet thinking of his wish being fulfilled, his mood improved. No matter how he tried, he could not squeeze out a tear. He could only cover his face and order the court to be dismissed.

Back in his chamber, the Emperor rapped on the table, eyes dark with thought. “No matter what, I cannot order the death of my kin. Otherwise, would I not be a tyrant? I can only have someone else die first… and that person’s death must carry enough shock to serve as a deterrent…” 

After a moment, his mind was made up. He flung his sleeve sharply, his voice icy and commanding, “Summon the Crown Prince.”

The Emperor had all blood relatives within three degrees guarded, which naturally included Jing Liansheng.

Jing Liansheng was confined within the Eastern Palace, escorted by the imperial guards to meet the Emperor.

On the palace path, Jing Liansheng saw Wu Ying approaching. Wu Ying wore simple cloth robes, sleeves flowing like a breeze. Looking at Jing Liansheng, he offered a slight smile and cupped his hands. “I take my leave, Your Highness.” 

Jing Liansheng paused. “You…”

“The Ancient Lotus has already bloomed. My duty is fulfilled. Therefore, I have resolved to resign and live in seclusion, caring no more for worldly affairs,” Wu Ying replied.

Jing Liansheng was rather surprised. “You no longer concern yourself with matters of the Lotus Sect?”

Wu Ying smiled faintly. “When have I ever concerned myself with the Lotus Sect’s affairs?” 

Jing Liansheng fell silent.

He had already uncovered the filth within the Lotus Sect. The corruption, the schemes, the intrigues. Every bit was nauseating. Yet Wu Ying seemed completely untouched by it.

Even Ci Ying, who appeared the most innocent within the Lotus Sect, would occasionally indulge in pleasures while leaving the palace, drinking and squandering to satisfy private desires.

But Wu Ying was different. He had never indulged in such leisure, as if he had no interest in worldly matters at all. 

Jing Liansheng had observed Wu Ying closely and found that he neither desired wealth nor lusted after women, nor had he ever truly cared for power.

Yet Jing Liansheng also knew Wu Ying was not purely benevolent. Though indifferent to gold and women, he seemed to harbor a near-obsessive fascination with manipulating human hearts.

He had seen Wu Ying casually sow discord among even close kin, and seen him reduce people to despair with just a few words. Wu Ying did all this not for money, not for power. He treated those he toyed with neither with hatred nor pity. Occasionally, a faint interest would stir in him, but it was quickly replaced by boredom. It was as if he did these things merely to amuse himself.

Yet after amusement came a deeper boredom. 

Though Jing Liansheng always held hostility toward the Lotus Sect, Wu Ying was always gentle with him. If conflict arose, Wu Ying would retreat rather than confront.

The Lotus Sect’s continual schemes against Jing Liansheng never ceased, yet curiously, Wu Ying never appeared in these actions. At least on the surface, he never intervened, and never expressed hostility toward Jing Liansheng.

He never harmed Jing Liansheng, nor did he prevent anyone else from doing so. He was like a silent observer, watching everything unfold with cold detachment, uninvolved, as if none of it concerned him.

Thus Jing Liansheng’s perception of Wu Ying was complicated. 

What surprised him most now was Wu Ying’s sudden decision to retire from the world.

…Yet after a moment, Jing Liansheng seemed to find the answer in Wu Ying’s indifferent gaze. He is tired of this game.

Wu Ying merely gave a faint smile and was about to turn away.

Jing Liansheng called after him, “Wu Ying…” 

“I am no longer the Grand Shaman,” Wu Ying paused. “You may call me by my name, Ying Zhili.”

This was the first time Jing Liansheng knew Wu Ying’s name. He hesitated, then said, “Ying Zhili, I have a question I wish to ask.”

“Please speak,” Ying Zhili said, smiling faintly.

Jing Liansheng hesitated for a moment before asking, “Ci Ying… has he truly gone into seclusion?”