The Last Thing

Zhang Yuanqing and Xiao Yuan ceased hostilities at once. Xiao Yuan sat back down in the high-backed chair, her long legs pressed together, her face turned away from him. Zhang Yuanqing likewise faced away with his cheek turned, like a couple sulking after an argument. Between "companions" and "justice," neither could understand the other. Kou Beiyue understood very well. He knew Xiao Yuan's feelings toward their companions. Xiao Yuan was Master Wuhen's most capable assistant, responsible for recruitment, vetting, record-keeping, and the like. Aside from a handful of veteran members, most people in the group had been brought in by Xiao Yuan. She was the one who observed them, made contact, and finally recommended them to Master Wuhen. She was the front desk of Wuhen Hotel, and she was the front desk of the entire team. Over the past few years, Xiao Yuan had watched companion after companion depart. She had never said anything, merely watching from the sidelines with detached eyes. Yet each time someone left, Kou Beiyue would see her sitting alone on the hotel's rooftop, sitting there for an entire night. A group like theirs was too lonely; they needed like-minded companions to support one another and carry on. Kou Beiyue could understand Yuanshi Tianzun as well. He would always remember that night when they came out of the captain of the constabulary's house, when Yuanshi Tianzun suddenly said he wanted to smoke, only to cough violently after a single drag. It turned out he didn't even know how to smoke. After smoking that cigarette, he had gone straight to take down Bronze Sparrow Tower, even though it was a dragon's pool and a tiger's den. And that matter had actually had nothing to do with him. "Xiao Yuan, didn't you want to know about my past? Since we're here, I'll tell you..." On the bed, Uncle Zhang stared blankly at the ceiling. The inarticulate old man spent a long time phrasing his words and pondering before he said in a raspy voice, "Have either of you heard of the extermination case in Qinghe County, Yu Province?" *Never heard of it,* thought Zhang Yuanqing, who never followed the news. Xiao Yuan furrowed her brows in thought for a few seconds. "The case where seven in a family were killed, leaving only an eight-year-old child?" The old man looked at the ceiling, his voice weathered with age. "I did that." Xiao Yuan wasn't surprised. People of their kind almost all had murders on their hands. She only wanted to know the reason, and asked, "Why?" "People in evil professions like us have our hands stained with blood. We live in this world like vengeful spirits, claiming lives from mortals. 'Ashamed to Be a Father' said that. He put it so well—I could never have said it like that." Uncle Zhang gave a faint smile and began recalling the first half of his life. "I was just an uneducated farmer. Aside from tilling the soil, I had no other skills. My wife and I had four children. One died shortly after birth, one died of illness, and one was kidnapped by human traffickers. In the end, only one precious seed remained. "In those days, life was hard for everyone. You had to work the fields day and night just to get enough to eat. There was no time to care for the kids. Every household had children who didn't survive. To have one sole seedling left was already a blessing. "When I raised my son to twenty-two, I found him a wife. The very next year, they had a big, chubby boy. My little grandson was adorably cute, just like his father was when he was little..." Zhang Yuanqing and Xiao Yuan listened to his rambling without interrupting. When speaking of those past days, there was light in the old man's eyes, softening the bitter sorrow etched into his face. "When my grandson turned six, the young couple died in a car crash. Run over and killed. I heard the person who hit them seemed to have been drunk. He abandoned the car and fled on foot right then and there, stumbling as he ran. Don't know if that was true or not... "That man's family was quite influential locally. They had money and connections. When it went to court, his family got him a certificate of mental illness, and just like that, he was off scot-free. "The lawyer told me that mentally ill people don't break the law when they kill someone. I was just a farmer; I didn't know the law, and I didn't know what kind of logic that was." The old man gave a laugh, bitter and helpless. "Heh, there was no talking reason. "I refused to accept it. I said if I couldn't win the lawsuit, I'd go to the capital to petition the imperial court. So they brought people to beat me up. Seven or eight men pinned me down on the field ridge and shoved my face into the muddy water. It hurt. It has hurt for more than half my life. After that, people loitered near my house every day. They stole my ID card and wouldn't let me board any buses or trains. They threatened me too, saying if I didn't want the kid at home to have an 'accident' as well, I'd better stop making trouble. Everyone told me to let it go. The boy was still so young; someone had to raise him. I thought it over, and decided to let it go. "The next year, my wife passed away. She was a soft-hearted woman who took grief hard; she just couldn't make peace with it no matter how she turned it over in her mind, so she jumped into the river." His voice was very calm, as if those ancient events could no longer shake his heart. Yet under the lamplight, that shiny, sun-darkened face seemed only more burdened with grief. "But I couldn't leave. I still had a grandson to raise. I had to put him through school. He had already lost his parents; he couldn't lose his grandfather too. Farming alone couldn't pay for his schooling, so during the agricultural off-season, I went out to do odd jobs, saving coin by coin, yuan by yuan. By the year he entered high school, I had saved tens of thousands. Thinking his college was secured, I went to do the one thing I hadn't managed to do back then. "That year during Spring Festival, I bought a sharp blade, hid it around my waist, and took a bus into the city. I killed both generations of that family. I couldn't bring myself to harm the little child. After thinking it over, I let him be. "Afterward, I fled Qinghe County and hid out across the country for a few years. I stole things; I lived as a beggar. The only thing I couldn't let go of was my grandson. I wanted to wait until he graduated from college and got married to take one last look at him, and then I'd turn myself in. "Who would've thought that later I became a Spirit Realm walker and met Master Wuhen? Once he learned my story, he invited me to practice cultivation alongside him, to forget the past, start anew, and become a new person. "Yet I was always worrying about my grandson. I wanted to see if he was doing well. I quietly returned to my old home in Qinghe County, only to learn that after the massacre back then, he had feared revenge from that family's relatives and had moved away from Qinghe County, his whereabouts unknown." At this point, Uncle Zhang looked at Yuanshi Tianzun, his voice weathered and hoarse, yet gentle: "Yuanshi Tianzun, you're a good person. If I had met an upright official like you back then, maybe I wouldn't have come to this point today. Beiyue is fortunate. I envy him." Zhang Yuanqing said nothing, listening impassively. Not knowing what expression to wear in the face of such praise, he simply wore none at all. Uncle Zhang continued, "About half a month ago, I saw him in Jinghai City. He had become a Spirit Realm walker too, and had even joined the Five Elements Alliance on the official payroll. That was wonderful. "After looking into it closely, I found his situation wasn't very good. He could never get promoted. That boy is too honest and not slick enough." Hearing this, Zhang Yuanqing's heart dropped. He snapped his head up and stared at the old man. "Your grandson is Wei Yuanzhou?!" The old man nodded slowly. "His original name was Wei Yuanzhou. And my surname isn't Zhang either; it's Wei." Zhang Yuanqing was caught completely off guard. After standing dazed for a long moment, he asked, "Then why did you assassinate Long Live the White Tiger? Does Wei Yuanzhou know about this?" "In this Transcendent stage killing trial, an extraordinary number of people from the orthodox faction advanced to Saint, but the Deacon positions are limited. Yuanzhou has toiled for so many years; I couldn't let anyone jeopardize his future. This was the last thing I could do for him. I wanted to make it up to him. He doesn't know about any of this. If he knew, he would definitely have stopped me." Uncle Zhang tilted his head slightly and looked at Xiao Yuan. "I'm sorry. I let down Master Wuhen, and I let you all down. That's the end of my story." Zhang Yuanqing stood dazed by the window for a long while before suddenly rubbing his face hard. For a brief moment, he told himself in his mind: *Why not just drop it? Long Live the White Tiger didn't die anyway, and I could choose to compensate him discreetly.* Yet when the words reached his lips, what came out was, "Thank you for telling me. According to regulations, I must arrest you. Do you have anything else you want to say?" The old man said in an aged voice, "Please grant me one day. I still have some unfinished wishes. Tomorrow night, I will return to Wuhen Hotel and go with you." Zhang Yuanqing nodded. "All right! I'll wait for you at Wuhen Hotel. I hope you keep your promise." He turned to look at Xiao Yuan. "I will plead on his behalf and fight for life imprisonment!" Xiao Yuan's expression showed neither joy nor sorrow. She nodded gently. Zhang Yuanqing looked at her again, hesitated as if wanting to say something, but ultimately kept silent and walked straight out of the room. In the corridor, Kou Beiyue leaned against the wall with his head down, standing there silently. His face was full of despondence. Zhang Yuanqing had originally intended to ask him to get a room card so he could stay next door, but seeing this, he said nothing. His body dissolved into a streak of starlight and slipped straight into the adjacent room. The room was pitch-black, but for a Night Wanderer, darkness was home turf. He went into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, then returned to the bedroom and lay down on the bed. After sending Guan Ya a text to let her know he was safe, he stared blankly at the dark ceiling, lost in thought. Uncle Zhang's story echoed over and over in his mind. He seemed to see an old peasant who could never straighten his back again, tilling the fields day after day, toiling year after year, raising his grandson with sheer stubborn grit using a pair of rough, cracked hands. Until that massacre years ago, when he finally straightened his spine once more—only to become a wanted fugitive. In his ears echoed what the Decurion had once said: Evil professions are the karmic flames of humanity itself. He loathed evil professions, yet he sympathized with them: he sympathized with Ashamed to Be a Father, who had refused to reconcile with this world; he sympathized with Kou Beiyue, who had suffered injustice and humiliation; and he sympathized with Uncle Zhang, who had borne humiliation and burdens for his grandson. He now knew what drove an old farmer to become an evil profession. Yet just as Uncle Zhang had said, there was no talking reason to any of this! Day was just breaking at Jinghai People's Hospital. In a secluded corner, Uncle Zhang, dressed in a tattered coat with dark, shiny, wrinkled skin, said softly, "Don't worry. Grandpa has taken all the blame. Act as if you know nothing about this. It won't affect your future." Opposite him stood a handsome, composed young man in formal wear, carrying a gentle aura. It was none other than Wei Yuanzhou. Glancing around his surroundings, Wei Yuanzhou asked, "I didn't expect Yuanshi Tianzun to be the one who came either. What did you tell him?" Uncle Zhang recounted the events briefly. After listening, Wei Yuanzhou nodded slowly. Following a pause, he asked, "What if he can't protect you?" Uncle Zhang shook his head. "Then that's Grandpa's fate. I've dragged out my life for so many years; I've lived long enough. Let it be." A tender look appeared on his weather-beaten face. "Xiao Zhou, seeing you as you are today is enough to satisfy me. All these years, Grandpa wronged you, making you suffer..." Wei Yuanzhou waved a hand, cutting him off. "I understand. Too many eyes and ears around here. Go back for now." Uncle Zhang looked at him for a few moments, as if trying to imprint his grandson's face into his memory, before turning reluctantly to leave. He had walked only a few steps when Wei Yuanzhou's voice came from behind: "Grandpa, you spared him on purpose, didn't you?" Uncle Zhang stopped in his tracks, remaining silent. Wei Yuanzhou said in a heavy voice, "If you didn't kill him, how could I become a Deacon? I told you before, didn't I? Because of you, my family background rating has always been B-minus. Unless I achieve great merit, I'll never beat him in the competition. "You've already ruined me once. Why won't you help me?" Uncle Zhang's aged face betrayed deep weariness. "Grandpa didn't want to kill..." No sooner had the words left his mouth than he began to cough violently. "Cough! Cough! Cough—" It was as if thick phlegm were stuck in his throat. He coughed with exhausting force, his face flushing red, his forehead burning hot, his breath coming in scorching gasps. He was sick, gravely sick. *Thwack!* A sharp blade pierced through his heart from behind, the tip protruding from his chest. In his ear came Wei Yuanzhou's voice, his teeth clenched: "Grandpa, if you go to the Songhai Branch, I will definitely be exposed. You can't fool them. Instead of that, why not give the credit to me? With the credit of taking you down, I can be promoted to Deacon. You want me to become a Deacon too, don't you?" An immense agony washed over him—impossible to tell whether it came from his chest or from deep in his heart. Pain flickered through Uncle Zhang's cloudy eyes, followed by heartache, then disappointment—only surprise was absent. In the end, all of it turned into release. His lips trembled softly as he uttered his final words: "That's... fine too." *This is the last thing Grandpa can give you.* *Ring, ring, ring—* Hearing the familiar ringtone, Zhang Yuanqing snapped his eyes open, bolting upright like a dying patient shocked back to life, his heart practically skipping a beat. Fumbling for the phone beneath his pillow, he checked the caller ID. It was Guan Ya. *Didn't I say I'd be back tonight? Why call at the crack of dawn...* Zhang Yuanqing grumbled inwardly, answered the call, and said lazily, "Sister Guan Ya, even if you miss me, you don't have to ruin my wet dream so early in the morning. You were so obedient in my dream, shaking your hips at me non-stop." Guan Ya retorted in annoyance, "Do you intend to keep watching me shake my hips in your dream, or are you coming back to Songhai with us?" Zhang Yuanqing froze. "Back to Songhai? Didn't I tell you guys to wait at the hospital? I'll handle this case; you don't need to worry about it, just wait for my news." Guan Ya said, "There's no need for you to handle it, because it's already resolved. The attacker from last night has been neutralized." "What?!" Zhang Yuanqing shuddered, all sleepiness instantly evaporating.