Chapter 115

At the sound, Fu Ming's fingers stiffened almost imperceptibly. The vermilion brush in his hand slipped and clattered onto the desk, rolling across the smooth surface before falling to the cold floor.

A crisp snapping sound—the wooden handle had split.

The eunuch continued in a trembling voice, "The fire was too fierce. By the time anyone managed to rush into the hall, nothing was left. The Xianzun and the Divine Maiden were burned beyond recognition, and the other temples at the summit of the Divine Mountain were consumed as well..."

The fragmented words seemed to drift somewhere far away. Whether Fu Ming heard them or not, his gaze remained fixed on the broken brush on the floor, following its trajectory. He couldn't quite name the emotion stirring inside him.

It was like the day he learned of his mother's death. It had come too suddenly, catching him completely off guard. He couldn't accept it for a long time, as if trapped in a dream, a profound sense of unreality welling up from the depths of his heart.

The year his mother died, everyone said she hadn't died. They said she hadn't perished—she had Ascended and become a god.

His mother was a celestial deity; she would become the guardian goddess of the Yu Kingdom and watch over them forever like a star in the heavens.

But Fu Ming knew the truth: she was dead. Dead was dead. There was no ascension after death.

He had watched his mother breathe her last before his eyes. In that moment, she must have been in terrible pain—speaking while forcing the blood back down her throat, trying to hide it from the young Fu Ming. But there was too much blood. Even her eyes were a piercing red, and it soaked her lips, trailing down her neck in rivulets.

Sticky blood plastered her hair together. She struggled to speak, managing only one sentence—told Fu Ming to find the Rain Goddess's Seal, that he must find it.

Then, she closed her eyes forever.

Afterward, a blaze of purple-gold light spread across the land—the blessing that accompanied a mortal's Ascension. Someone had become a god at that very moment.

But to Fu Ming, it all seemed hollow and absurd. That radiance hung in the distant sky, like nothing more than an illusion staged to deceive the world.

A few auspicious clouds, and everyone simply turned a blind eye to her death.

Shortly afterward, the Nine Heavens gained a new Wind God, and everyone took it for granted that this Wind God was the late empress.

The late emperor was the God of War, the empress the Wind God, and the Divine Maiden the Rain Goddess. Three successive Ascensions—a tale the masses loved to tell.

The vermilion brush stopped rolling at the eunuch's feet, snapping Fu Ming back from twenty years ago. He lowered his gaze, studying the man before him.

The eunuch who had come to report was pressing his forehead to the ground. Fu Ming rose with a sweep of his sleeve, walked to the eunuch, bent down, and picked up the brush, setting it back in place. He didn't even notice how taut his expression had become. His emotions were complicated now—but above all, he felt lost.

Words rose to his lips, but nothing would come out.

His voice went dry, catching in his throat. He simply watched the two or three ministers whispering before him and the eunuch kneeling with his head bowed, not daring to look up.

Fu Ming was used to being alone—he had always been alone. It never bothered him, and he never felt lonely. Until one day, someone suddenly crashed into his thoughts, pulling him forward.

The first time they met, outside the Temple of Ten Thousand Gods—it had been a rainy, thundering, wet and noisy night. But when he looked back on that evening now, all he could remember was the determined look in Lin Yu's eyes when she appeared in his line of sight.

Her eyes were bright, beautiful—unlike anything he'd ever seen.

She could do things he couldn't. She seemed afraid of nothing. She never hesitated, never worried about consequences. She was braver than him.

Fu Ming gripped the edge of the desk, gradually calming himself.

He recalled how seriously Lin Yu had once asked him whether he wanted to kill the Xianzun. He'd sensed the killing intent she harbored toward the Xianzun then.

But he'd flatly denied it.

He did want to eliminate the Xianzun, but he didn't want Lin Yu to know. He didn't want her dragged into those schemes.

If he hadn't been so hesitant back then, would Lin Yu have told him what she wanted to do? If he'd known everything, would today's events have been avoided?

Lin Yu had never told Fu Ming why she wanted to kill the Xianzun, and he couldn't guess.

Maybe it was resentment toward divine authority, or hatred for the Heaven's Mandate Tower, or something else entirely.

But what kind of hatred could drive someone like Lin Yu to willingly perish with him in a single blaze?

Lin Yu had never told him about her past. Fu Ming had never bothered to investigate either—he assumed she would tell him everything in time.

But he never got to hear it. All that remained was the sound of his own sigh.

His fingers on the desk edge curled slightly. The warmth from last night had yet to fade; the heat of their embrace seemed to linger in his palm, the fragrance at his nose, the strands of hair intertwined, the memory of a kiss—all of it so vivid.

In a daze, it was all gone.

A butterfly fluttering over the earth barely leaves a scratch on his heart—gone in an instant.

The person who, not long ago, had looked into his eyes with a smile was now dead. He couldn't believe it, couldn't accept it.

"Find out what happened at Bushou Hall last night." Fu Ming heard his own voice. He paused, then said in a low tone, "And bring her back."

Everyone present knew who "her" referred to, but the eunuch had just said the Xianzun and the Divine Maiden were burned beyond recognition. How were they supposed to find her? The ministers exchanged uneasy glances, unsure how to respond.

Fu Ming said, "Even if everything has burned away, bring me her ashes. If you can't find them—" He turned, catching a glint of gold in the corner of his eye. It was Lin Yu's dagger. Dawn had fully broken now, and pale morning light slanted through the carved dark window, making the dagger on the desk gleam. The gems set into it cast colorful patterns across the paper beneath.

"If you can't find them, tell those people at the Heaven's Mandate Tower to deal with themselves. They can't even keep an eye on one person—useless trash. No point keeping them. Tell them the Changsheng Hall's fate today will be the Heaven's Mandate Tower's fate tomorrow."

With the Imperial Censor and his mother's clan in decline, the Changsheng Hall had been thoroughly purged. Over a thousand alchemists had been imprisoned and executed. As glorious as the Changsheng Hall had once been, that was how utterly ruined it was now.

"Understood?" Fu Ming sat back at the desk, toying with the dagger. His face was expressionless, yet everyone could feel the immense pressure radiating from him.

"Y-yes, understood." They all kowtowed. "We will find the Divine Maiden..."

...

Late at night, at the Crimson God Temple.

"You're saying the Glory God is dead?" The Crimson God leaned casually against the offering table, looking down at the man in black below.

The man's clothes were filthy, as if he'd wrapped rags around himself. He was missing a leg, his body crooked and unbalanced as he knelt awkwardly on a fresh cushion. His face was caked with mud, gray and indistinct, only a pair of eyes visible, revealing nothing of his original appearance.

The Crimson God raised an eyebrow, then looked away, barely concealing his disgust. He fanned at the dust swirling in the air. "You... where did you crawl out from? And what's with the outfit?"

A quarter of an hour earlier, this man had limped into the temple, laboriously placing a Resurrection Pill on the high offering table as tribute to the Crimson God. Then he knelt before the statue and said the Glory God had been killed in Jiangnan.

If an ordinary devotee had come to worship in the dead of night, the Crimson God wouldn't have bothered. But this man had arrived bearing two things that demanded his attention.

The first was the Resurrection Pill. The Crimson God didn't recognize it, but the connection between gods was unmistakable. He could feel the Rain Goddess's aura on it—it belonged to the Rain Goddess.

The second was his claim that the Glory God had been killed in Jiangnan. The Crimson God did recall it had been a while since he'd seen the Glory God, but the Glory God often dwelled in the mortal realm and rarely returned to the Nine Heavens. The other gods had grown accustomed to his absence. Now that someone had come bearing news of his death, of course he'd meet with them.

As if he'd expected the Crimson God to appear, Xie Wu showed no surprise. He looked up and met the Crimson God's gaze, bowed, and said with sincerity, "I beg the Crimson God to save me."

Xie Wu raised his eyes. Ever since Lin Yu had brought him to the Imperial City three months ago and thrown him in prison to await judgment, he'd been searching for a way out.

He spent sleepless, anxious days in the heavenly prison, terrified that any moment he'd be interrogated. As a sinner who had killed his own parents, he didn't expect any mercy—especially crippled in one leg.

He had to escape. No one would save him; he had to save himself.

The only bargaining chip he had was what he'd witnessed at the Rain Goddess' Temple that night—the Divine Maiden of the Heaven's Mandate Tower had killed the Glory God with the God-Slaying Spike.

Lin Yu had the God-Slaying Spike. Ordinary immortals might not be able to handle her. After much deliberation, Xie Wu had finally thought of the Crimson God.

"Oh? Save you from what?" The Crimson God feigned ignorance. Anyone could see at a glance that this man was being hunted, but he insisted on asking, "Do you know the price of asking this god for help?"

"You..." The Crimson God sized up this wretch who looked like he'd crawled out of a beggar's pile, his tone dripping with contempt. "What can you possibly offer?"

To seek a god's aid, the price was either building a temple or holding a sacrifice. Both required substantial wealth, and clearly, Xie Wu couldn't afford either.

Though he had no money, Xie Wu had something else. He looked up. "Don't you want to know how the Glory God died, and who killed him?"

"Have you heard of the prophecy, Crimson God? That someone in this world will become the God-Slayer, killing all the gods in heaven?"

The Crimson God's expression froze. This prophecy was made up on the spot by Xie Wu—of course he hadn't heard it. Xie Wu curled his lips. "Aren't you afraid that prophecy will come true? The Glory God's death is a warning to you all."

Xie Wu needed the Crimson God's help, so he made up nonsense, deliberately exaggerating his claims. But the Crimson God's reaction wasn't what he expected.

The Crimson God laughed as if he'd heard the biggest joke in the world. He did want to know who killed the Glory God, but right now he was more interested in burning this arrogant cripple to ashes. "How naive."

As he spoke, flames gathered in his palm. "I never tolerate those who don't know their place."

He smiled. "You should be grateful I'm sending you off myself."

"The one who killed the Glory God is the Divine Maiden of the Heaven's Mandate Tower," Xie Wu said.

The flames in the air suddenly dispersed, dissolving into waves of heat that washed over Xie Wu. He felt only a sweltering warmth, not the pain he'd imagined.

Before he could react, his collar was yanked, hoisting him into the air. His feet left the ground, and he instinctively struggled.

The Crimson God: "Say that again. Who?"

The Divine Maiden of the Heaven's Mandate Tower had destroyed the illusion he'd built for himself, destroyed the Feixian Ling. She'd left a deep impression on the Crimson God. To now hear that she'd killed the Glory God...

She was just a mortal. How was that possible?

Xie Wu swallowed. The Crimson God had no physical form—just a shapeless red shadow, neither human nor ghost, not even like a god. Up close, he was truly terrifying. But the Crimson God was Xie Wu's only lifeline. "It was the Divine Maiden of the Heaven's Mandate Tower."

"Not just her. There's also a god helping her." Xie Wu stared intently at the Crimson God's ethereal body. "Help me with one thing, and I'll tell you everything. How's that for payment?"

"Fine." The Crimson God agreed almost without thinking. "But if you say a single false word, I'll reduce you to ashes in an instant."

Xie Wu lowered his head. "I wouldn't dare."

The Crimson God walked past the offering table, casually picking up the crimson Resurrection Pill. He infused his own aura into it, masking the residual Rain Goddess's presence.

With the unpleasant aura gone, he began to examine the pill. The Crimson God didn't even spare Xie Wu a glance, his eyelids drooping. "Tell me, what do you want me to help you with?"

...

Lin Yu pushed open the window and quietly gazed at the desolate night beyond. They had left the Imperial City not long ago. Leaving the Heaven's Mandate Tower and the Imperial City had gone without obstruction—almost too smoothly, far easier than she'd imagined.

The Imperial City had the most cultivators, and with so many eyes around, using magic to leave wouldn't attract notice. But once outside the city, they had to be careful with their powers. Leaving traces would make it easy for pursuers to track them.

Lin Yu had a feeling someone would come looking for her, though she didn't know who.

After all, a fire like that was suspicious. The Moon God's doing—covering up the deaths of two mortals with divine power was easy. No one in the world would notice anything amiss. Her death would be seamless.

Facts could be altered, but hearts were harder to change. What Lin Yu feared most was someone refusing to believe she was dead and searching for her everywhere. From now on, they couldn't leave a single trace.

"Xiao Yu, get some rest. It's late." Zhang Yulin stood outside the door. Seeing the candle still burning in Lin Yu's room, she reminded her, "We'll head to Cang region tomorrow and should arrive by nightfall."

"Alright." Lin Yu acknowledged, rising to extinguish the candle in the room. With the light gone, everything around sank into darkness. The shadow outside the door disappeared, followed by the clear sound of footsteps as Zhang Yulin walked away.

Lin Yu remained by the window, unmoving. A cool night breeze drifted in through the window. She leaned against the table, gazing at the scenery outside. This was the second floor, and not far off stood a wine house. Even at this hour, groups of people passed by in twos and threes.

It was then that Lin Yu sensed something wrong. The wind was blowing from the wrong direction.

Someone was behind her!