The Honest Truth

Night had deepened. Consort Yuan helped Wei Yuan up, chuckling softly. "How many days has it been since you last ate, Lord Wei? Why are you so delicate and frail?" Indignant, Wei Yuan tried to rally his strength, but failed. He felt that this was truly no fault of his prowess in battle; it could be explained. Consort Yuan beckoned to a maidservant. "Quickly, bring the tonic over. Can't you see Lord Wei has overworked himself to the point of fainting?" The maidservant immediately presented a jade bowl filled with an already prepared broth of unknown ingredients. Consort Yuan had Wei Yuan lean against her chest, murmured, "Xiao Yuan, time to take your medicine," and fed it to him. Once the medicine settled in his stomach, Dao power surged continuously from within, driving away the mounting exhaustion weighing down his body. Wei Yuan was finally able to stand. Consort Yuan took his hand and led him toward the rear hall. Wei Yuan had visited Chunhua Hall twice before, but had never set foot in the rear chambers. Passing through an exquisitely arranged courtyard, they entered the rear hall. Wei Yuan saw a small crib beside Consort Yuan's own bed, holding swaddling clothes. Yet his vision blurred slightly, as though catching a glimpse of something discordant. He rubbed his eyes vigorously, quietly infusing them with a trace of celestial qi. Suddenly, the scene before him transformed completely. The bedchamber was suffused with blood-red hues, dim as twilight, lit only by the faint glow of a formation floating in the corner of the room. Lying in the crib was not an infant in swaddling clothes, but a doll stitched from cloth and straw! It sat up, staring with wide eyes, and actually smiled at Wei Yuan, wet blood still clinging to the corners of its mouth. The formation's light flickered intermittently, casting elongated shadows from the objects in the room that swayed violently, inducing a sense of vertigo. Throughout the room, Wei Yuan caught the overpowering stench of medicinal herbs, blood, and an eerie rot. Even with his resilient constitution, it made him feel distinctly unsettled. At that moment, the bowl of medicine he had just swallowed took effect: a pungent, spicy heat dispelled the stench, making Wei Yuan realize with a shock that the rot had insidiously seeped into his body and was on the verge of penetrating his internal organs. Wei Yuan was secretly alarmed. Wherever this rot originated, it had slipped past his senses, defying even his physical body's resistance. It was either one of the world's extraordinary poisons or a terrifying curse on par with the Shamanic blood curses. "There are eleven exotic poisons and three curses in this room. The doll in that crib is a ten-thousand-year-old vengeful spirit; a single bite from it disperses one of your three celestial souls or seven earthly spirits," Consort Yuan said. Wei Yuan was stunned. This was no imperial consort's boudoir; it was a deadly den of poison! Any ordinary dharma idol cultivator lingering here would perish without even knowing how they died. Connecting this to his earlier experience, Wei Yuan suddenly understood: the formation laid out in the main hall and the pervasive fragrance worked hand in hand. Whether inhaled or not, the fragrance seeped into the flesh, where the formation ignited it, drastically boosting the array's suppressive power while sapping physical strength. In the brief span it took Wei Yuan to bow upon entering and exchange a few words with Consort Yuan, his strength had been suppressed to a mere tenth or two of its full measure. At that fraction of his power, he was naturally no match for Consort Yuan, ending up ruthlessly stripped to the bone, drained of every drop, and reduced to dregs. Consort Yuan led him before the formation and brushed her hand across it. In the center of the array appeared an infant. He was fast asleep, utterly adorable, yet his pale, tender skin was covered in blood-inscribed runes! Suddenly, a rasping laugh rang out: "So this is where you've been hiding him!" A twisted figure materialized out of nowhere, lunging toward the baby on the ground! Murderous intent flashed in Wei Yuan's eyes, and he thrust out his hand to shield the infant. The figure radiated savage ferocity and snarled, "Courting death, boy!" The shadow wrapped itself completely around Wei Yuan's hand, corroding away all the skin below his elbow in an instant! Yet an indescribably terrifying Dao power erupted from Wei Yuan's hand, crashing like a raging tidal wave against the shadow, pitting magic power against magic power in the crudest, most primal clash of attrition! In the span of a finger snap, the shadow assassin's magic power was nearly drained dry by Wei Yuan, and from his physical body to his sea of consciousness, he was battered into a honeycomb of wounds by Wei Yuan's Dao power! The assassin was forced to reveal his true form—an emaciated old man, his face frozen in disbelief and horror, a curved, lusterless dagger gripped in his hand. He could not fathom how, as a fellow dharma idol cultivator, he had failed to last even a single finger snap! Consort Yuan quietly appeared behind him. A white cord in her hand whipped around his neck twice in an instant, then cinched tight! The assassin's reflexes were also lightning-fast. In the nick of time, he blocked his throat with the dagger, attempting to sever the slender white cord. But Consort Yuan pulled with all her strength, and the loop snapped tight—sending both the assassin's head and half the sheared dagger flying into the air! With the assassin dead, his head and torso lost their protective magic power and immediately billowed white smoke. The doll in the crib gripped the railings, poked its head out, and inhaled deeply toward the corpse, swallowing the white smoke and several faint soul wisps into its belly. In the blink of an eye, the assassin was gone entirely. The doll flopped backward onto the bed, its little belly swollen high. When Wei Yuan shifted back to ordinary vision and looked at the crib, all he saw was an infant bundled in swaddling clothes, sound asleep. At that moment, Consort Yuan gave the white cord a shake, letting it unravel. Only then did Wei Yuan realize that the white cord capable of severing a magical treasure dagger was actually the white stocking from her left leg! Wei Yuan was slightly baffled. Was that stocking really so durable? He hadn't felt that at all just now! Wei Yuan glanced down at Consort Yuan's legs and saw that the white stocking on her left leg had indeed vanished, leaving behind a smooth, jade-like, plump leg whose skin glistened with moisture. Meanwhile, her right leg still wore a black stocking, though it was riddled with holes large and small—all torn open by brute force. Seeing those tears, Wei Yuan's face flushed hot. Consort Yuan chuckled softly. "These stockings can slice through ordinary magical treasures with ease, yet Lord Wei tore them to shreds with his bare hands. That physical body of yours... I truly adore it!" Had he not witnessed it with his own eyes, Wei Yuan would never have believed that these stockings could shear a magical dagger and take down a dharma idol assassin in the process. Wei Yuan stepped before the formation and watched the sleeping infant. His brow furrowed deeper and deeper as the blood-colored runes grew increasingly jarring to behold. In his eyes, each rune twisted and pulsed like a ferocious demon. They bore not the slightest relation to orthodox Daoist methods. Wei Yuan could not even tell whether they were protecting the child or restraining him. Consort Yuan said, "I had a grandmaster write these runes with the blood shed when I gave birth to him. As long as they do not fade, his life will be preserved—" Just then, another sinister voice rang out: "Not necessarily!" An emaciated hand reached out from the void, clawing toward the infant in the formation! Consort Yuan's expression changed drastically. Reaching out with both hands, she clamped down desperately on the withered hand. But an expression of agonizing pain instantly gripped her face, and with a silent shriek, all ten of her fingers shattered! Yet even as she silently screamed, she clamped the giant hand between her bloody palms and threw her own body in front of it! But how could her magic power withstand a strike from Scenery Command? The fingertips of that withered hand pierced into her chest in an instant, poised to drive straight through her body and crush the baby in the formation! Gritting his teeth, Wei Yuan summoned Maiden Yin-Yang. Wielding the Crimson Night Immortal-Slaying Sword, she thrust backhanded into the void! From beyond the heavens came a faint, agonized scream! The withered hand vanished. Maiden Yin-Yang withdrew the Crimson Night Immortal-Slaying Sword, upon whose tip was impaled an eyeball, trailing drops of blood. A full moon seemed to materialize in the room before slowly fading away. Maiden Yin-Yang plucked the eyeball from the sword tip and vanished. Only the drops of blood that dripped from the blade fell to the floor, crystallizing into ruby gemstones the size of longans. Wei Yuan hurried to support Consort Yuan. Gazing at the wound on her chest, he grew frantic with worry. He carried no medicinal salves at all; no matter how badly he had been injured in the past, he had always relied on his body to heal naturally. Now, he was utterly helpless. Consort Yuan was deathly pale, yet had remarkably avoided losing consciousness. She whispered, "The medicine bottle by the head of the bed... feed me three pills. Only three." Wei Yuan flashed over, retrieved the medicine bottle from the bedside, poured out three pearl-sized pills, and fed them to her. A moment later, the medicinal power took effect. Her complexion improved slightly, and the wounds at the bases of her severed fingers stopped bleeding. Wei Yuan glanced at her wounds, and his body shuddered slightly. The assassin's lingering magic power in the wound was peculiar, tinged with a trace of Buddhist power that heightened the victim's senses manifold. In other words, the agonizing pain of her fingers blowing apart had been magnified several times over. It was unimaginable how she had endured it without letting go. Consort Yuan's face was haggard. Exhaling at last, she said weakly, "I'm a little tired. Let me sleep for three breaths." Wei Yuan nodded. When he silently counted to three, Consort Yuan opened her eyes again. She looked up at Wei Yuan, caressing his face with her fingerless palms. Suddenly, she kissed his lips and, for the very first time, said with heartfelt sincerity, "Thank you." "Who are these people?" Consort Yuan said, "The same ones as before. The ones we encountered in the secret realm." Wei Yuan looked around once more and realized that the heated walls enclosing the hall were actually part of the grand formation. Only now did he understand that the strange fragrance and the potent array had not been prepared for him; they were meant to suppress assassins. Consort Yuan sighed softly, pulling her robe together to cover the wound on her chest. Then she said, "During this time, Little Karma has been targeted by assassins eleven times and poisoned four times. Even a maid I brought with me from the palace of Zhao was bribed. That time, I risked my life to save him. And this time, completely disregarding the oaths sworn before the Buddha in the Pure Land, they actually sent a Scenery Command cultivator. If you hadn't possessed a final trump card, my child and I would both have died here tonight." Wei Yuan didn't know what to say. Just now, if he had been even a moment slower in invoking Maiden Yin-Yang, or if the shadow in the moon had not lent otherworldly fortune, Consort Yuan would have died right before his eyes. Wei Yuan sighed. "If a child is lost, you can have another. Why put yourself through this?" Consort Yuan shook her head gently. "You don't understand. This child has suffered too much. Even before he was born, he was already suffering. Now that he has come into this mortal world, I will not let anyone harm him. If they want to kill him, they will have to step over my corpse!" Wei Yuan truly had no words. Consort Yuan suddenly smiled, taking Wei Yuan's hand and placing it over her heart. "Place your hand over my heart and tell me the honest truth: if one day we face an unstoppable foe, would you be willing to sacrifice your own life to keep the two of us safe?" Just as Wei Yuan began to ponder, Consort Yuan cut in, "Liars will never realize their dreams!" Wei Yuan was taken aback, then gave a bitter smile. "Do you really want the truth?" "Of course!" "...I will do everything in my power to avenge you." Consort Yuan stared in shock, utterly unprepared for such an answer. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed hold of Wei Yuan's "handle" with all her might and pinched down ferociously, though in her heavily injured state, she couldn't break it at all. Consort Yuan struggled to sit up, kicked Wei Yuan, and gritted her teeth: "Get the hell out!" As Wei Yuan moved to explain, Consort Yuan pointed to the brightening sky outside. "You have to face the sovereign at morning court today! Go, already!" Wei Yuan left Chunhua Hall in something of a daze. Liu Quangong was already waiting outside. Taking Wei Yuan gently by the wrist, the two were instantly transported into a carriage near the palace city walls, where a fresh set of court robes lay ready. The carriage set off as Wei Yuan changed clothes, arriving at the palace gates just before the deadline. The guards inspected Wei Yuan's credentials, stepped aside, and allowed him to walk into the Jin Royal Palace. The road from the palace gate to the main hall seemed long—terribly long, so long that many spent their entire lives without ever walking to its end. Yet Wei Yuan did not look toward the main hall; he turned his gaze toward the sky.