Chapter 61 Mortal Bones Binding Gods and Reversing Fate (Part 4) So, am I special?
What happened after that, even five years later, Feng Zhizhaoyin still doesn't want to recall.
But those broken, infuriating images often flash through her dreams.
In Qiangquan's main city, the streets were deserted. Atop a towering palanquin sat a spirit of darkness. She was his sister, yet not his sister.
The girl's physical form was preserved intact, even meticulously adorned, dressed in elaborate and ornate divine robes and wearing a crown studded with jewels. But her once vibrant and lively face was now forcibly fixed by an invisible force into a sorrowful yet eerie smile, as if crudely sculpted by a craftsman. Her skin possessed an unnatural waxy sheen, faintly revealing the dark glow of runes within.
She sat there quietly, like a perfect object being worshipped, her empty eyes devoid of any spirit, only a deathly stillness.
Standing beside the palanquin, dressed in the robes of a protector of the Fengzhi family, with a cold and numb expression, was none other than Sheng Sheng.
At that moment, Feng Zhizhao felt dizzy and all her rationality collapsed instantly.
She rushed towards the slowly moving palanquin as if she were a madwoman, disregarding everything else.
Feng Zhizhaoyin abruptly sat up in bed, her heart pounding, cold sweat soaking through her inner garment. The eerie smiling face on the palanquin, and the cold, numb gaze, seemed to linger before her eyes.
"I had another nightmare."
A clear and calm voice suddenly rang out, offering no questions, only a statement.
Feng Zhi Zhaoyin looked in the direction of the sound and saw Dawei Jiali standing quietly by the window, the moonlight outlining his solitary silhouette in his black robes. Once upon a time, such a scene would have terrified her, fearing she might stumble upon the deadly figure of the night. But now, she was no longer afraid.
On the floor in the corner of the room, the familiar magic circle emitted a faint glow. She repeatedly reinforced and refreshed the bloodstain where it had been placed, and a faint, almost imperceptible, smell of blood filled the air.
The turbulent emotions surging in her eyes gradually subsided, eventually turning into a bottomless pool.
"Mmm," she responded softly, reaching for the water glass on the bedside table.
Over the past five years, this nightmare has recurred repeatedly, never ceasing.
She would always remember how she had rushed towards the procession like a madwoman when she saw it. She knew it was an elaborate trap, yet she hadn't hesitated. She struggled and screamed, desperately trying to get back to that place and snatch her sister back from that magnificent yet terrifying throne.
—She suffers because her surname is Feng Zhi, because she was born in a dark, secluded mansion, because you need her to be 'useful.' And also because she is incompetent. What does it have to do with me?
Recalling the harsh words he had once blurted out, his hand trembled uncontrollably as he put the water glass back.
A hand with distinct knuckles came over at just the right moment and gently placed the water glass back in its place.
His skin was warm. Feng Zhizhao remained silent for a while before saying, "Thank you."
If she hadn't brought him here beforehand and been saved by him at the last minute, she would probably be dead by now. But she wasn't afraid of death; she was only afraid of not having enough time to take revenge.
Thinking of this, she looked up and met his gaze. "I know you hate me. For the past five years, I've forced you to stay by my side and protect me. But you have a long life ahead of you, so there's no need to rush—once I've fulfilled my wish, you can use this life to vent your anger."
Dawei Jiali said calmly, "You've said this many times already."
"But I have no other choice. If I didn't, you would never help me. How can I, alone, contend with the entire Feng Zhi family?"
Feng Zhizhao looked at him with a complicated expression.
That day, she hysterically begged him to bring her sister back, "Aren't you the Grim Reaper? Bring her back! Give her back to me!"
She believed that if he could control life and death, he could surely reverse them as well.
However, he simply looked at her quietly. "I am not the god of life and death. I come from the Temple of Truth."
This was the first time he had revealed his background.
"The Temple of Truth is not a divine court. Its founders were the first group of enlightened beings among the human race to comprehend the mysteries of heaven and earth, and were the earliest spiritual practitioners."
"They observed the trajectories of stars, traced the flow of the earth's veins, and recorded the laws governing the birth and death of all things, calling those constant and unchanging laws 'truth'."
"And we are the guardians of these laws. The Temple of Truth does not interfere with the rise and fall of dynasties, nor does it meddle in love and hate. We only ensure that the most basic rules of the world are not wantonly distorted and trampled upon."
"I am not a god, I cannot save a dead person."
Only then did she truly understand what his cold "truth" meant. He was not an omnipotent god, but merely a jailer above mortals.
Feng Zhi Zhaoyin's revenge was very direct. She not only spread the slander against Feng Zhi Clan everywhere, but also hung a sharp blade over the imperial power.
She knew all too well that no matter how deep a family's foundation or how mysterious its power, as long as it still existed on this land, it would never dare to touch the emperor's sore spot. As for sayings like "divine right" or "the descent of the underworld," they might be consolidating among rural believers, but to the emperor, every word was an act of usurpation.
As a result, some seemingly insignificant "rumors" and "physical evidence" began to quietly flow into the capital through clandestine channels.
She took advantage of the Feng family's growing ambition. The arrogant words spoken by the clan elders during the sacrificial ceremony to show off their power, such as "The Yin God descends upon the world, and all officials come to pay homage" and "Our clan is ordained by Heaven and shall rule the rise and fall of dynasties," were all recorded by her people and presented to the emperor at the opportune moment.
Some ancient leather scrolls, supposedly lost from the Fengzhi family, depicting the vague direction of dragon energy and the layout of a suspected mausoleum; several cryptic copies of secret letters, vague yet hinting at the approaching opportune time; and even some forbidden ritual objects bearing the unique emblem of the Fengzhi family, discovered "by chance"... These scattered pieces of "evidence" may seem far-fetched on their own, but when intertwined with the rumors about the Fengzhi family's adoption of a "Yin God," their widespread following, and their rapid expansion of power, they paint a sufficiently clear picture—the Fengzhi clan, their hearts are not loyal, their ambitions lie with the king.
After eight long years, the Fengzhi clan, which had occupied Qiangquan for hundreds of years, finally came to an end under the attack from both inside and outside the country.
On the last stormy night, Feng Zhishanyi, the last patriarch of the Feng Zhi clan, was found hanged outside the vermilion gate of the mansion, a symbol of supreme glory.
His death was gruesome, his eyes wide open, as if he couldn't believe the fall of his family even in death. According to the trembling recollection of the only old servant who witnessed his final moments of madness, the master of the household had been acting in a frenzied manner before his death, repeatedly roaring with resentment towards his wife who had died many years ago:
"It's all your fault! If you hadn't given birth to those twins, defiling the family's pure bloodline and bringing misfortune upon us, how could my Fengzhi Clan have come to this?! How could we have come to this?!"
He roared at the heavens:
"The Yin Gods will protect me! I will not die! The Feng Zhi Clan will not perish! I will prove it to you!"
However, there was no miracle, no turning point.
Feng Zhizhaoyin stood on a distant hill, gazing at the mansion that had once haunted her almost entire life like a nightmare, now silent in the deepest darkness before dawn.
There was no ecstatic joy as I had anticipated, nor any unbridled pleasure.
The burning hatred that had haunted my soul for eight years has left only boundless desolation.
She returned to the mountain courtyard where she had lived for eight years and, with a calm expression, ordered Dawei Jiali, "I heard that some ice silkworm silk has come from the South Market. The cloth woven from it is as thin as a cicada's wing and impervious to water and fire. Go and find me a bolt of it."
After confirming that he had left, Feng Zhizhao stood there for a long time, then bent down and personally erased the life-or-death scroll that had been drawn over many years and was almost connected to her breath.
Then, empty-handed and all alone, she walked to the moat outside the city.
She waited a long time, until it got dark. It was as if she was waiting for a belated resolution, or as if she was waiting for a anticipated revenge, or perhaps, deep down, she harbored a vague and inexplicable expectation.
However, instead of Dawei Jiali, she was greeted by Feng Zhiyuan.
This former steward of the Fengzhi family, who was known for his refined and aloof demeanor, had long since lost all his former glory and dignity. He blamed her, this "traitor," for the family's downfall, and as he roared and berated her, he suddenly threw out a handful of colorless and odorless powder from his sleeve.
Caught off guard, Feng Zhizhao's consciousness rapidly faded amidst the intoxicating fragrance. The last thing she saw was Feng Zhiyuan's face, twisted with hatred.
When she regained consciousness, a strong, pungent smell of cheap cosmetics mixed with the salty smell of the sea breeze hit her.
She opened her heavy eyelids and found herself locked in a small space filled with firewood. Outside the window, the faint sounds of revelry drifted in; women's giggles and men's rough urging to drink filled the air. As she was roughly dragged out of the woodshed, the three gilded characters "Jinmei Pavilion" came into view.
"Once you're at our Tang Island Jinmei Pavilion, you'd better learn to serve us properly!" The madam's shrill voice, thick with a maritime accent, rang out. "Tang Island is frequented by wealthy merchants from all over the world, so put away your spoiled princess attitude!"
Tang Island?
When Feng Zhi Zhaoyin traveled in her early years, she had heard of this pearl of the South China Sea. It was a uniquely blessed harbor that attracted merchant ships from all over the world, giving rise to extreme prosperity and desire. The island was lined with brothels and entertainment venues, a den of iniquity where wealthy merchants and sailors indulged in extravagant spending and debauchery.
This Feng Zhiyuan, instead of giving her a clean kill, resorts to this kind of revenge? It's utterly laughable.
She felt utterly absurd, and even wanted to force a smile. This place might confine an ordinary woman, but it couldn't confine her. She could leave whenever she wanted. But now, she felt lost, unsure of where she could go if she left.
Just as she was pondering what to do, a fierce-looking old woman shoved her and led her through a deep, dark corridor. At that moment, the faint sounds of conversation coming from inside made her abruptly stop in her tracks.
"...How could the Yin Spirit's true form be lost? Before his death, the patriarch repeatedly warned that it was the future reliance of the Feng Zhi clan and the foundation for the clan's revival. How could it be lost so easily?"
It was Feng Zhiyuan's voice, filled with barely suppressed shock and anger.
The true form of the Yin spirit... is lost?
Feng Zhizhao was taken aback, then another slightly hoarse voice rang out, tinged with a hint of arrogance and mockery, "Who could have predicted that the group from the north, relying on a few broken guns, would sneak into the ancestral temple under cover of night. By the time we discovered them, their true forms had already disappeared."
That voice is... Sheng Sheng?
Seeing her suddenly stop and freeze in place, the old woman rudely shoved her in the back, shouting angrily, "Are you trying to get yourself killed! Standing here like a doorman? Get out of here now, or I'll skin you alive!"
The rough, hoarse voice pierced my ears, igniting years of pent-up anger, the chill of betrayal, and the uncertainty about the future... all at once with a push and a curse from this old woman.
Feng Zhizhao's eyes turned cold, and she turned to the side and drew a machete from the waist of one of the thugs next to her.
The next instant, a cold blade flashed through the dim light of the corridor, slashing at the old woman's shoulder and neck!
"ah……!"
The heavy cleaver was deeply embedded in the flesh and bone, almost ripping off the entire shoulder. Warm blood splattered like ink, staining the mottled pillars and splashing onto Feng Zhizhao's plain clothes.
The old woman let out a shrill scream and fell heavily to the ground, her body convulsing in pain.
Feng Zhizhaoyin drew her machete expressionlessly, not even glancing at the person on the ground, nor paying attention to the two thugs beside her who were trembling like leaves, their faces pale with fear.
She raised her foot and kicked open the tightly closed lattice door in front of her with a loud "bang"!
Amidst the flying sawdust, the two people having a secret conversation inside turned around.
Feng Zhiyuan's face first showed astonishment, then turned into undisguised rage. He stood up abruptly, his finger trembling as he pointed at her, "You traitor who defies the family! Exiling you here was already a favor to the patriarch, giving you a last shred of leeway to live! How dare you... how dare you commit murder with a knife, you truly have no regard for death!"
Sheng Sheng, standing to the side, suddenly turned to look at Feng Zhiyuan, her face cold. "When did you bring her here? Why was I unaware of this?"
Feng Zhiyuan's face was gloomy as he squeezed out the words through gritted teeth, "If it weren't for your repeated protection and consideration for your past relationship with her, I would have personally dealt with this calamity of betraying the family and disregarding fate long ago. How could I have allowed her to live to this day!"
Feng Zhizhaoyin couldn't be bothered to listen to their argument. Her blood-stained blade pointed directly at them, "What did you just say? What happened to the Yin God's true form? What happened to my sister?!"
He met her gaze in silence, his once clear eyes now only filled with a deep darkness. He actually chuckled lightly, with an indifferent air of detachment. "Lost. Sister, you know that so-called true form was nothing but an empty shell using Xue's body as a cover. Didn't you already bury her remains?"
He paused briefly, a hint of relief in his voice, "That's good too. The things that shouldn't have existed in the first place are gone, and it's a relief for everyone."
"Relief?" Feng Zhizhao repeated the word. "You took away her life, drained her of her life force, and now you want to erase even the last trace of her existence. And now you tell me this is relief?"
"Then today I will let you taste what this 'liberation' really tastes like!"
The tip of the knife she gripped trembled, and blood slid down the cold blade, splattering into eerie dark red flowers on the floor.
"What is that?" Feng Zhiyuan only then noticed that a strange magic circle drawn with blood had appeared on the floor of the porch behind her.
That was the death-summoning array that Feng Zhizhaoyin had drawn with the old woman's blood before she kicked down the door and stormed in. Over the years, she had come to understand that those complicated external objects were merely aids to strengthen the restraints, making it even harder for the bound beings to break free. The real key lay in the ancient incantation itself.
Besides, now that things have come to this, why would she care whether Dawei Jiali would retaliate? At worst, they would all be destroyed together.
If she could drag these enemies who trampled on her and her sister's lives to the afterlife with her, it might not be such a disheartening end.
Boom—!
Thick, inky clouds surged wildly towards the sky above Jinmei Pavilion from all directions, as if the entire sky was about to collapse.
Blinding flashes of lightning, like silver snakes, ripped through the darkness time and again, followed by deafening thunder that shook one's very being. A fierce wind whipped up rubble and debris, even ripping the roof off, leaving the attic teetering precariously in the storm.
Feng Zhi Zhaoyin's long hair flew wildly, her eyes burning with intense hatred, yet a trace of dazedness swept through her heart.
It has been a long time since such a terrifying celestial phenomenon has occurred.
It seems that Wei Li is truly enraged this time.
But she had no time to spare for anything else.
When that black cloak, exuding a chilling aura, appeared in the formation, he seemed to instinctively raise his hand, but then froze for a moment before slowly lowering it.
Feng Zhizhao didn't notice his subtle pause and restraint at all. She practically lunged to the edge of the formation, her eyes bloodshot, pointing at Feng Zhiyuan and Shengsheng, her voice hoarse and distorted with extreme hatred and despair:
"Kill them! Kill them for me!! If you kill them, my life... take it! Take it now!"
She screamed hysterically, on the verge of a breakdown.
Dawei Jiali's deep-set hat brim turned slightly, as if he were looking at her.
In the suffocating silence and the roar of wind and thunder, a moment seemed to last forever.
Dawei Jiali took a step out of the formation.
Almost simultaneously with his movement, a non-human hiss escaped his throat. His body twisted and swelled violently in a way that defied human anatomy. His skin tore open, revealing cold, hard, jet-black scales beneath.
In the blink of an eye, an unimaginably enormous python rose from the ground, towering above the dilapidated dome, its sinister green vertical pupils coldly looking down.
Its body was so enormous that it blocked out the last remaining sunlight, casting a shadow that covered half the street. People on the street stared in horror at the sky, dumbfounded at the suddenly appearing, enormous snake-like shadow, and screams and cries instantly filled the air.
Dawei Jiali ignored the enormous demonic serpent.
Because after the serpent's body fully manifested, the long-brewing thunderstorm in the sky seemed to have found its target.
Blinding bolts of lightning, almost tearing at the retinas, struck down mercilessly like swords of divine punishment, accompanied by deafening roars! Their target was none other than the giant python that dared to reveal its true form and defy the rules of heaven and earth!
The snake's head, raised high, hissed in anger and pain. A hint of fear flashed in its dark green vertical pupils. It had no choice but to abandon its attack on Dawei Jiali. Its scales stood on end, gathering a dark luster, and it bravely faced the destructive heavenly lightning.
The lightning collided with the snake's body, creating visible ripples in the air, and the smell of burning instantly filled the air.
Dawei Jiali walked step by step toward Feng Zhiyuan, whose face was ashen.
"Who, who are you?! What do you want?" Feng Zhiyuan wanted to retreat, to escape, but was horrified to find himself frozen in place, unable to move even a finger. He could only watch with bloodshot eyes as the black cloak approached like a shadow of death, watching the other person raise a finger and lightly press it towards his crown.
There was no contact, no light.
But Feng Zhiyuan's eyes suddenly widened, her pupils rapidly dilating, as if something of paramount importance had been forcibly stripped away.
Then he started laughing foolishly.
“I will not take his life, but his sins are grave. From now on, his three souls will be separated from his body, his intelligence will be forever sealed, and he will be no different from a walking corpse.” Dawei Jiali flipped down his cloak, his clear, cold, and melancholic peach blossom eyes falling on her. “Are you satisfied now?”
Without saying a word, Feng Zhizhaoyin raised the blood-stained cleaver and swung it towards Feng Zhiyuan's neck!
However, just as the sharp blade was about to strike Feng Zhiyuan, it was firmly clamped between two slender fingers, making it impossible to advance any further.
“His fate is not yet over. The backlash from forcibly taking it is something you cannot bear,” Dawei Jiali said solemnly.
“Fate?!” Feng Zhizhaoyin suddenly looked up, her crimson eyes filled with mockery and indignation. “Who decides this fate?! In this chaotic world, how many innocent lives are lost like weeds? Who decides their ‘fate’?! Why can’t his life be taken?”
Before she could finish speaking, Dawei Jiali gently took the blood-stained cleaver from her hand, interrupting her emotions.
He turned and walked to the side, where the charred and broken python, struck by lightning, had shrunk to less than ten feet in size and was struggling to breathe among the rubble.
"Decisions made in the heat of the moment often can't withstand scrutiny later." He picked up the dying snake before turning to her and saying, "This snake's life is worth saving. Do you want to finish it off yourself?"
Feng Zhi Zhaoyin gazed at the charred body trembling in the wind, and in a daze, she seemed to see him again when they first met, when he was still a python-shaped spirit stone... Perhaps, if she had known this would happen, she should have let him fend for himself.
As her anger subsided, she closed her eyes and, after a long silence, asked in a hoarse voice, "Will it be able to cultivate back to its former self?"
"It's hard to say."
Silence spread through the ruins. Finally, she gently shook her head. "It's already like this. Never mind."
With a flick of his finger, Dawei Jiali sent the small python floating lightly into the ruins, disappearing in an instant.
A deep weariness washed over her. Feng Zhizhaoyin slowly slumped to the ground, burying her face in her palms.
"All that has happened in the past has kept you stuck in the same place for too long." A clear voice sounded above him, but it seemed to contain a hint of warmth and calm. "After you left that day, I thought you would try to live a good life."
She didn't look up, her voice muffled in her palm, "What, does His Highness the Holy Son also care about how we mortals live?"
"I don't care about ordinary mortals."
"So I'm special?"
"I also want to understand."
Feng Zhizhao looked up, her reddened eyes showing extreme exhaustion. She propped herself up with her hands as she looked at him. "They said the true form of the Yin God has disappeared."
"Then let's go find it."
She glanced at the half-hidden magic circle, her tone carrying a hint of almost unreasonable threat that she herself didn't realize, "You'll help me find it."
He readily agreed, "Okay."
Thus, on the road of wandering in the chaotic world, he was no longer alone.
They traversed towns still shrouded in the smoke of war, and crossed desolate plains strewn with starving people. The clues to the true form of the Yin God were incredibly slim; most of the time, they simply wandered aimlessly. At first, she was filled with anxiety, but gradually she realized it was like searching for a needle in a haystack.
Dawei Jiali spoke very little. But without turning around, she could sense that familiar, chilling aura. Sometimes, when resting in a dilapidated temple, she would wake up in the middle of the night to find herself leaning against his bent knees, covered by his seemingly thin yet warm cloak. The shadow under the brim of his hood concealed all his emotions, but somewhere deep within her, an inappropriate, strange sense of security gradually arose.
His title also changed from "Kui Li" to "A Li".
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