Kunlun Void
Mo Yuan~
Ye Hua’s wife was easily taken. Too readily. This gave him a greater insight into people’s complete lack of concern for her. Validating the obvious, she was not cared for even though she had just birthed an imperial prince, Ye Hua’s first child yet they were negligent enough to let a blind woman wander alone with no help. She didn’t have a single assistant serving her.
She is under my protection in Kunlun Void. Zhe Yan will check clandestinely what happened after she disappeared from Nine Heavens, and bring Bai Qian’s father, Bai Zhi, to see his daughter.
My students, who are astute and compassionate individuals, recognize the urgency and unusual nature of the situation. This first that I’ve brought a woman to Kunlun Void.
After setting her in her old bedroom, I gather everyone together to explain the circumstances and share my suspicions.
“I believe Ye Hua’s mortal wife Susu is our Seventeen.”
I inform them that Susu is actually our beloved Seventeen, who is the current ruler of Qingqui Bai Qian. I share my concerns even though am quite certain about her identity, there is a slight possibility, only 1%, that I may have taken Ye Hua’s wife without proper justification.
She was an undesired individual where she was. She was trying to take her own life. Nevertheless, I find myself in a sensitive situation where it would be challenging to clarify my intentions.
They understand the gravity of what I disclose. Emotions run high. Complexity, doubt, and worry cloud their youthful faces, mirroring my own emotions. However, after the initial shock subsides, a wave of anger washes over them leaves many seething and speechless, much like it does me. Rumors of Ye Hua blinding his wife had reached some of my students’ ears and they had found the matter cruel and unusually barbaric.
The air crackles with their palpable fury, as if it’s a tangible force swirling around the room. The sights of clenched fists and furrowed brows mirror the intensity of their emotions. The discussions escalate, voices rising in a crescendo of anger and frustration. The words retribution, compensation and life debts exchanged, laden with the weight of their indignation, hang thick in the air like a heavy fog.
When they see her condition, some crumble to their knees. Other openly weep tears of sorrow, anger, and bitterness. They grow more enraged than before.
They are adamant of who she is. “That’s our Seventeen.” They declare. It’s obvious to my students—I feel foolish for not seeing it sooner. If I had recognized her that day we met, she wouldn’t have gone through three years of hell in heaven.
SuSu~
I don’t know where I am. They must have found me on the Zhuxian Terrace and maybe brought me back to the Hall of Beautiful Youth.
My fingertips explore the bedding’s texture, sensing the softness of the sheets and the luxuriousness of the comforter, but it’s not the ones I know. Nothing smells like where I’ve been for the last three years. The absolute unfamiliarity of these surroundings fills me with a sense of panic.
I don’t know where I am, but I fear I may have been brought to a place where my life will end. My purpose as a vessel for Ye Hua’s child has been fulfilled, rendering me dispensable. I am nothing but a source of embarrassment and shame for Ye Hua. SuSu, this is the end.
My erratic breathing echoes around me. The nerves within me intensify, causing violent tremors that reverberate through my entire body, causing my teeth to chatter uncontrollably even though I’m not cold. I instinctively curl up into a tight ball, seeking some semblance of safety and protection. Suddenly, a man’s voice pierces through the silence, startling me. I hadn’t even heard them breathing. I thought I was alone. “SuSu, no one will hurt you. You are safe,” he says.
Through the darkness that engulfs me, I mimic the motion of wiping away tears from beneath my blindfold. I huddle into myself, my body coiled tightly, seeking security. “Do you remember me?” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “We crossed paths at Mount Junji. I am Mo Yuan. You mistook me for Ye Hua. Can you recall?”
The sound of his breath, now shallow and fragmented, drifts towards me. A wave of self loathing washes over me, for I know he finds me repulsive. Trembling with anxiety, I manage to find my voice. “Mo Yuan?” I stammer. “Are you the man who bears resemblance to Ye Hua?”
There is an unexplainable hint of familiarity about him and his mannerisms that gives me the courage to reach out, guided by his voice. His hand, larger and warmer than Ye Hua’s, feels distinct in my grasp. Inhaling his scent, memories of him flood my senses. “I remember you, Mo Yuan. Am I back on Mount Junji?” I ask hopefully.
Mo Yuan answers in a careful and tender tone that makes my heart twinge for reasons I don’t understand. “Why do you think you’re back in Mount Junji?”
“Su Jin told me I would return there if I jumped from Zhuxian Terrace,” I whisper releasing his hand that lingers on the bed. I know he’s sitting near, but the distance of his voice.
“Jumping from Zhuxian Terrace would have killed you, SuSu.” Mo Yuan’s somber tone, implying sadness, informed me that Su Jin had deceived me but this isn’t shocking to me.
I nod somehow laughing sardonically at myself for I knew. I did. Sujin isn’t the type of woman who would allow a single fragment of me left in existence. My eyes were a start for her. Maybe for her wedding gift she might have asked Ye Hua to cut out my liver or heart and he would have complied. She is his beloved.
“Yes, I thought that might be the case, but death is a haven compared to where I was. Mo Yuan, how did you find me?”
Then a dread fills me. Could Mo Yuan be immortal too?
I instinctively recoil when Mo Yuan touches the back of my hand. He doesn’t get angry or offended. He shares with me his belief that I am his seventeenth disciple, who is also an immortal.
A name, Si Yin, comes to mind and I blurt it out. ”Si Yin.”
Mo Yuan asks how I know that name. I tell him that I heard it in a dream.
====
I am in the Kunlun Void with High God Mo Yuan. He is Heavenly Father’s eldest son and the God of War. Despite his title, he is gentle and kind. He is also the Shifu of Kunlun Mountain and has seventeen disciples, including me as the seventeenth disciple.
He sits by me for long hours, saying nothing. Ye Hua’s silence is cold and sharp, while Mo Yuan’s silence is warm and protective.
Unlike Ye Hua, who used to jerk his hand back when Nai Nai walked in the room. Mo Yuan’s tender caresses on my head and face are agonizingly sweet. I have never experienced such gentleness. I think he’s in love with his female student.
“Shifu, please rest. I’ve prepared your bedchamber.” disciple Chang Shan the second highest in seniority. He urges Mo Yuan to rest. Apparently, Mo Yuan is recovering from something. I feel bad he is tiring himself out for me. Mo Yuan, holding my hands, promises a swift return, while Chang San feeds and regales me with stories of me, the seventeen disciple.
Mo Yuan~
She left her baby behind, and her body, still grappling with the consequences of childbirth. Die Feng approached me, his eyes puffy and bloodshot from weeping even as we spoke, he could hardly hold back his tears. He’s not someone who breaks down easily, but it all made sense when I entered Bai Qian’s room.
The sight that greeted me was a poignantly distressing scene – she was fast asleep, sitting upright with her arms tightly wrapped around an imaginary baby, her breaths shallow and fragile. Her disheveled dress revealed a bare breast, and the sight of her flowing breast milk mirrored the stream of tears that escaped my own eyes.
Perhaps I was too naive, thinking that removing her from the source of her misery would be enough. As the days passed, instead of finding solace, she grew worse, her depression enveloping her like a suffocating fog. The sounds of her despair echoed throughout the school, her cries for death reverberating in my ears. I can hear her, her voice laden with pain and anguish as she prays for death.
I saved her body, but her heart remained lost.
“Are you in love with your disciple?” she asked, her faint voice echoing softly in the dimly lit room as I tenderly washed her hands with a warm towel.
As I carefully considered her words, the flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows beside the bed, their soft glow illuminating the depths of my thoughts. The weight of the inquiry settled upon me enveloping me in a swirl of uncertainty and introspection.
Deep within, I could hear the distant melody of a haunting song, the music of conflicting emotions that had been silently playing since my resurrection.
I had always believed that I was a guiding figure, a second father to her, my only female student. But now, as the towel glided over her delicate fingers, I could no longer deny the truth that had become painfully clear. I was in love with her, and the realization washed over me like a crashing wave.
“Yes. I love her…you.” Finally, the words escaped my lips, their release feeling like the lifting of a great burden that had weighed upon me for far too long.
Her words, muffled by the blankets she pulled closer. “Love doesn’t exist.”
“Only pain and hate are real.” She spoke of love as if it were a sharp blade, cutting through the very essence of one’s being.
As she turned away, seeking solace in the safety of her own darkness. Love, she claimed, was a treacherous path, a fool’s errand that could lead only to destruction. The blankets muffled her voice, as if shielding her from the vulnerability of her own words.
“If you surrender yourself to love Mo Yuan, you are a fool. It will be the end of you like it was for me.”