Chapter 40: This Venerable One Cannot Believe This—What the Hell?

The weapon inside Ever-Yearning was Tianwen, or rather, a golden willow vine indistinguishable from Tianwen. It was exactly the same in every aspect, from the patterns on the vine down to the way in which it was made.

To yearn unwittingly breaks the willow branch.

Chu Wanning, face unreadable, handed the willow vine to Mo Ran before calling forth Tianwen in his hand. Light gathered in his palm as the weapon formed. The two weapons were as mirror images, not the slightest bit different.

No one had anticipated anything like this. Even Mo Ran couldn't believe his eyes. As someone who had been on the receiving end of Tianwen probably about a thousand times in his last life, he never could have expected to be offered an identical weapon from Jincheng Lake.

What exactly was going on?

Everyone collectively turned their gaze toward Gouchen the Exalted.

Gouchen the Exalted seemed to be surprised as well. "So at this moment, there are, in fact, two spiritual essences of wood? Existing concurrently?"

"What exactly is a 'spiritual essence of wood,' anyway?" Xue Meng asked.

"Ah, it's like this," said Gouchen. "There are five elements in the world, as you all know. When a person cultivates a spiritual core, they find themselves inherently aligned with one or two of those elements. The living person most innately resonant with a certain element can be said to be the spiritual essence of that element. For instance, the Wushan Goddess was the spiritual essence of earth of her time. But generally speaking, there can only be one spiritual essence of any particular element in each generation—and there is at present already a spiritual essence of wood, to whom I gifted the first wood elemental weapon many years ago."

His gaze landed on Chu Wanning as he spoke.

"When I forged the five supreme holy weapons, I originally planned to make only one of each element. Everything went as intended for four of the elements, but the wood elemental weapon broke in two within the forge.

"I recognized this as the will of the heavens, and so I made the two halves of the willow vine into two separate weapons. Even so, I was certain that these two weapons would never find owners at the same time. Therefore, I entrusted one to Ji Baihua and his brocade box as a precaution against any unscrupulous scheming. I never would have imagined…"

Gouchen shook his head and was about to say more when lustrous red firelight burst forth from the willow vine in Mo Ran's hand. Its golden radiance gradually changed into the scarlet of a raging inferno.

Mo Ran's thoughts were in utter disarray, and he blurted out without thinking: "Ah! What the hell?!"

Chu Wanning tried to stop him, but it was too late.

And so, both Chu Wanning and Gouchen the Exalted could only gaze at Mo Ran with pity. Mo Ran quickly realized the reason behind their looks as he remembered: A holy weapon first changed color to indicate its recognition of its owner; this was also a request for its new master to give it a name…

Unfortunately, it was too late. They watched helplessly as three characters written in exquisite and powerful calligraphy slowly appeared on the silver handle of the willow vine.

Ah! Jiangui: What the Hell.

The holy weapon "Ah! What the Hell?!"

Mo Ran was silent for a moment. Then he shrieked.

Although Xue Meng and Shi Mei didn't know much about the practice of naming holy weapons, they put two and two together easily enough.

Xue Meng doubled over in laughter, clutching his stomach with both hands and laughing so hard that he almost cried. "Only you could manage a name like that! Ha ha ha ha, good name, good name. Shizun's Tianwen and your 'Ah! What the Hell,' aha ha ha ha ha ha!"

Since Mo Ran had received his holy weapon, Xue Meng and Shi Mei also each picked out a weapon for themselves. Xue Meng chose a longsword, and Shi Mei opted for a short flute. Neither of their weapons changed color, evidently not yet willing to submit to their new masters.

But it was no matter; this was something they could figure out later.

And thus, everyone returned to the seashell estate for an evening feast in quite a good mood. Gouchen the Exalted had never brought mortals to the depths of Jincheng Lake before, and he generously invited them to stay the night before leaving. Their host spared no expense. The banquet tables were loaded with meat and wine, and energetic drumbeats accompanied their merrymaking. Everybody came out of the affair a bit tipsy.

Afterward, Gouchen had the chamberlain bring the guests to their rooms to retire for the night.

The guest rooms were adjacent to the arsenal of holy weapons. As he looked at that massive tree, Mo Ran thought of the "Jiangui" that he had just received and couldn't help but call forth the willow vine to look it over.

To yearn unwittingly breaks the willow branch.

Just what did that fox spirit Ji Baihua know? Why had he said something like that, and what exactly had he meant by those words?

Mo Ran was a little drunk, and the alcohol in his system had muddled his thoughts, but it just made no sense to him. If Ever-Yearning hadn't been broken, then how had Chu Wanning opened it?

Of course he didn't like Chu Wanning. And as for Chu Wanning being deeply in love with him… What a joke.

As he thought this, he looked back toward his shizun. Unexpectedly, Chu Wanning was also looking at him. Their eyes met, and Mo Ran's heart trembled slightly, as if it had been pricked by some sharp, tiny thing. It elicited a faint, sweet-sour kind of feeling in him. Without thinking, he beamed toothily at Chu Wanning, but the feeling lasted for only an instant before being overtaken by regret.

He obviously disliked Chu Wanning. So why was it that sometimes, when he looked at him, he felt so at peace—so warm?

Chu Wanning, on the other hand, was as impassive as ever. Seeing that Mo Ran had called out Jiangui, he thought for a moment before summoning Tianwen. Then he walked toward Mo Ran.

Jiangui seemed to have a bit of a temper. Sensing the approach of another strong wood elemental, it crackled with sparks of scarlet firelight—some splashing on Xue Meng from time to time—as if in a show of aggressive competitiveness.

In contrast, although Tianwen also seemed to have sensed the presence of another like itself, it had spent a great deal of time with Chu Wanning and taken on his mannerisms. And so, despite also being proudly combative, its golden light didn't stir into an agitated frenzy like Jiangui, but rather brightened gradually. As its master didn't disapprove, it calmly continued to brighten until it had reached a blinding brilliance. It almost seemed determined to show Jiangui the steady composure with which an exceptional weapon should greet battle.

Two holy weapons, originally one branch.

One was fresh and inexperienced, while the other was seasoned by hundreds of battles. One flared with a red light, like an impatient and excitable youngster still wet behind the ears, while the other coursed with a golden radiance, like a proud and haughty master standing atop the highest peak.

Chu Wanning glanced at the willow vine in his hand with a quiet noise of contemplation, then his gaze, sheltered by thick, lowered lashes, turned to Jiangui. "Mo Ran."

"Shizun?"

"Take up your…" It was a little embarrassing to say "Jiangui." Chu Wanning paused before eventually continuing. "Take up your willow vine. Let's have a match."

The mush in Mo Ran's brain boiled and bubbled, but he couldn't make heads or tails of it. He pinched the bridge of his nose and forced a smile. "Please don't joke like that, Shizun. Have mercy on me."

"I'll let you have the first three moves."

"I've never used a willow vine before…"

"Ten moves."

"But—"

Without wasting any more words, Chu Wanning flicked his wrist and a flash of dazzling gold cleaved directly toward Mo Ran.

Mo Ran, who had a fear of Tianwen embedded deep into his very being, was scared shitless and swiftly raised Jiangui to block. The willow vines split the skies, entwining in midair like a pair of dragons locked in battle, sparks of gold and scarlet flying ceaselessly with the friction.

Though Mo Ran had never studied how to use this unusual weapon, he had watched Chu Wanning's combat style for a long time now. This, combined with his exceptional innate talent, enabled him to actually defend against Chu Wanning's attack, if only just barely.

Surrounded by the freezing lake water, they exchanged several dozen blows. Chu Wanning was holding back, but Mo Ran's performance and ability to hold his own was nevertheless outstanding and exceeded his expectations.

The gold of Tianwen and the scarlet of Jiangui danced in tandem. The two willow vines ripped through the current, stirring the once-calm waters to life and tearing them apart. They left coruscating trails of light in their wake, gold and scarlet intertwining, evenly matched, loath to part.

Chu Wanning's gaze was full of praise, but Mo Ran, gasping for breath and utterly exhausted from the fight, didn't notice at all.

"Tianwen, return," said Chu Wanning.

The golden willow vine that had mere moments ago been fierce and unrelenting became instantly pliant, like black ice melting into spring water. It glimmered as it obediently returned to Chu Wanning's palm.

Mo Ran's chest heaved as he panted for breath, Jiangui crackling with firelight in his grip. After a while, his legs gave out and he fell on his butt right there on the snowy ground, grievance written all over his face. "No more, no more. Shizun, you're bullying me."

"I let you have ten moves," said Chu Wanning.

"How could ten moves possibly be enough?" Mo Ran whined petulantly. "A hundred would've been more like it! Owwie, my hand, my arms—they're gonna fall off. Shi Mei! Shi Mei, gimme some rubs."

He continued blabbering as Xue Meng laughed and mocked him, and Shi Mei tried his best to calm them both down.

Chu Wanning glanced at them quietly and said no more.

In the green waters of the freezing lake, the corners of Chu Wanning's lips seemed to move slightly, as if in a faint yet warm smile—but there was no way to be sure and it was only for an instant. In the next moment, he had already turned around, hand held casually behind his back as he gazed at the enormous tree at the center of the courtyard with its thousands of drooping branches, his thoughts unfathomable.

That night, Mo Ran sat in a guest room with a soft, clean floor of white sand, its walls painted in aquamarine and enchanted to gleam softly with the rays of light that pierced the water. The window was half-open, a pearl curtain drifted gently in the evening breeze, and on the table was a lamp made of night-glow pearl that lit the room with a tranquil ambience.

In the center of the room sat a large seashell lined with layers of fine, soft satin. Mo Ran sank into the bed and once again called out Jiangui. He held it in his hand and stared at it. Perhaps he really was exhausted, as before long, after examining it for only a little while, he fell asleep.

Laying on Mo Ran's chest, Jiangui pulsed with a dim red light, as if following its master into slumber.

Mo Ran didn't know how long he'd slept, but when he awoke, the first thing he felt was an icy chill, followed by a burst of searing pain from his wrist.

He sucked in a breath and, holding his head, slowly sat up. The strange pain at his wrist grew more distinct as his consciousness returned. He was startled to discover that a gash had been cut into his wrist and had scabbed over with congealed blood.

What was going on? Where was he?!

Mo Ran's eyes shot open.

When he sobered up, he found himself in a dark and completely unfamiliar stone room with only a small opening in the ceiling for ventilation. The cold light of the lake came through that opening to illuminate a narrow cell barely a few feet wide. The damp stone walls were a slimy ash-green, and they glistened faintly in the feeble glow.