Radiant Blade of the Wilderness

Chapter 39: The Former Self

After leaving the back hill of the mass graves, Ding Songyan’s yin eyes quickly faded.

He did not mind. He already had a reliable method to activate them.

He deliberately slowed his pace, waiting until the sky had darkened completely before arriving at the ruined temple.

The interior was no different from a few days ago. There were unpatched holes, cobwebs everywhere, and weeds covering the ground.

Ding Songyan did not immediately activate his yin eyes. Instead, he turned his gaze to the filthy, broken idol.

It appeared to be a local earth god, though no one worshipped it anymore. In Dingjiang Prefecture, whether in the city or the countryside, people now prayed only to Dangkang and the Kitchen God. Daoist temples and Buddhist monasteries drew their incense-burners mainly from the middle and upper classes.

Ding Songyan paid his respects to the abandoned earth god before moving the hazy ”seed” in his sea of consciousness to the center of his brow.

His yin eyes activated. The boundless, predominantly black wasteland overlapped with the temple’s interior, both visible at once.

Ghost after ghost drifted aimlessly through the smoke-like darkness. The broken idol remained filthy as ever, without blood or tears.

I was actually afraid that opening my yin eyes might reveal a fallen idol spirit, so I prayed repeatedly and sincerely explained the situation... Is it that this world has no idol spirits, or has this one fallen so long ago it dissipated entirely? Ding Songyan turned his gaze to the wooden pillar he had been leaning against when he first woke.

Near-solid black wind swirled around that spot. A figure on the verge of dissolving lingered there, unable to move on.

Ding Songyan held his breath and approached.

The figure raised its head, revealing a clean-cut, fair-looking face.

It was identical to Ding Songyan’s own!

The difference was that this face was deathly pale and sinister, eyes bulging, streaked with bloody tears. Its expression was twisted beyond recognition.

So the original really did return on the seventh day... I was genuinely afraid you’d already scattered to nothing, or that I’d transmigrated long ago and simply forgotten what came before... Ding Songyan swallowed, fought to control the involuntary trembling of his hands, and transferred the hazy ”seed” to his throat.

He spoke, his voice cold and drifting.

”Ding Songyan, who killed you?”

The figure’s contorted expression changed instantly. A terror beyond words, sunk deep into the bone, surfaced.

He kept muttering, ”I won’t run anymore...

”Don’t kill me...”

”I won’t run anymore...

”Don’t kill me...”

”I won’t run anymore!

”Don’t kill me!”

His voice grew shrill and hysterical, filled with the panic of imminent death.

Illusory tears streaked with vivid red traced lines down his face.

”Don’t kill me!”

With that final shriek, the figure collapsed entirely, dissolving into the smoke-like darkness and the boundless wasteland, becoming one with them.

Ding Songyan watched in silence. His emotions were deeply complex.

He could not tell whether this was the empathetic sorrow of a fox mourning a dead hare, or whether it was because he himself had still not escaped those same two pleas, still begging others not to kill him.

After his yin eyes faded naturally, Ding Songyan mulled over the original’s final lingering obsession.

He really was fleeing at the time... And the situation was so dire he could no longer spare a thought for the Secret Classic in the wooden chest or the danger that book might bring his family...

Where did his personal savings go? I never found them... Did he sense he might need to flee at any moment, bring them along, and have them taken? Or had he already spent them? On the Secret Classic matter?

In such a desperate flight, why did he still enter this abandoned earth god temple? It took him out of the watchtowers’ surveillance, costing him his last shred of safety...

Was someone waiting for him here, forcing him to come? Or was he, too, ”in a position of having no choice”?

Ding Songyan immediately thought of Chen Yuliang and Wang Yishu. He thought of the Vermilion Moth and the moth seeds.

He quickly dismissed this guess. If this body had ever been parasitized by a moth seed, Physician Shao’s two examinations could not possibly have missed all traces.

Then another thought struck him, recalling how he had gone to the North Lane pleasure quarter to await a fortuitous opportunity despite sensing something was off.

Was the original Ding Songyan’s mind also being influenced at the time? Did he enter the earth god temple ”of his own accord”?

Does this mean... the person behind the scenes and Yan Changqing share the same origin?

Amid the cascade of thoughts, Ding Songyan’s eyes suddenly lit up. He recalled something Yan Changqing had said: ”It seems an old acquaintance of mine has arrived. Though I wonder which one.”

A fellow disciple is also a type of old acquaintance!

And there was no rule saying there could only be one mastermind behind the scenes. It could easily be a Moth-God Sect powerhouse cooperating with Yan Changqing’s ”old acquaintance” to orchestrate everything.

The more Ding Songyan considered this, the closer to the truth it felt. It also explained why Chen Yuliang and Wang Yishu had behaved differently from ordinary moth-men.

Their seas of consciousness probably also contained a hazy ”seed”!

By injecting thoughts, ideas, and words through the seed, the moth-men would naturally appear more lifelike, more like living people!

That’s probably why Yan Changqing guessed an old acquaintance had arrived. But from his reaction, it’s more likely an enemy than a friend... Does this mean he truly did betray his own sect, and now a martial brother or sister has come to clean house? Ding Songyan mused as he walked slowly out of the abandoned temple, returning to the main road toward the city gate.

He realized that Yan Changqing’s sect’s divine art and the Moth-God Sect’s methods complemented each other perfectly, producing results far greater than the sum of their parts.

What Ding Songyan was now working through was how to circumvent the restrictions and convey this discovery to the authorities, to Xiao Qing, and to Brother Youyang.

Back inside the city, turning into Chengyu Lane, Ding Songyan put a smile on his face, appearing as though nothing was amiss.

Beneath the dark blue sky still holding a trace of light, he immediately spotted his father Ding Shengyi standing by the well with a folding fan, chatting with a group of neighbors.

After exchanging greetings, Ding Songyan did not go straight home. He stood beside his father, making idle conversation.

”Clerk Ding, what a pity your daughter is too young. She missed the beauty selection in the fifth year of Jianwu. With her looks, you’d be the Imperial Father-in-law by now,” a woman spoke with a mixture of envy and emotion.

The daughter naturally referred to Qingyan, sometimes also called Third Young Lady or Young Miss Ding.

Before Ding Shengyi or Ding Songyan could respond, a loafer nearby laughed.

”Young Miss Ding comes of age next year. The year after is the tenth year of Jianwu. His Majesty might well hold another selection. Heh, cultivating fire arts to the highest level must generate quite the heat.”

Ding Shengyi waved his folding fan, shooing away the buzzing mosquitoes.

”All I want is for her to marry close by, where we can see each other often. No need for great wealth or high status. Just peace, safety, and being able to help each other when needed.”

”Haha, Clerk Ding, what about me?”

”You need to better yourself first.”

”...”

After chatting for a while, Ding Songyan returned home and saw his mother Liu Yuzao by the oil lamp, having just set down her needlework.

”Songyan, come try on these new shoes. Your sister and I each stitched one.” Liu Yuzao picked up a pair of black cloth shoes and gestured for him to sit while she helped him change.

Ding Songyan suddenly felt a little embarrassed. He said hastily, ”Let me wash up first. I’ve been walking quite a bit.”

Being doted on too much by family was not entirely comfortable either, given that he had not yet fully settled into this identity.

After washing his feet, Ding Songyan tried on the cloth shoes himself.

”They fit perfectly. Very comfortable,” he praised.

A faint, gratified smile touched Liu Yuzao’s face. She nodded and said as she tidied her sewing things, ”Then wear them tomorrow.”

Seeing his mother’s expression, hearing her words, and thinking of the original Ding Songyan’s remnant soul he had just witnessed, Ding Songyan felt a sudden pang of melancholy.

Once Ding Shengyi returned, the family of five took turns washing up and preparing for bed.

Ding Songyan naturally helped Bull move the wooden chests and lay out bedding.

”Songyan. Songyan.” Bull glanced toward the east wing where their mother was, then whispered, ”Help me with something tomorrow.”

Ding Songyan straightened up. As he set the main room’s door bar, he asked with amusement, ”Bull, what could I possibly help you with?”

Bull hesitated before saying, ”Come to the docks tomorrow afternoon and say you need my help with something. That way I can ask the foreman for time off.”

”Where are you going?” Ding Songyan had a faint inkling.

Bull smiled sheepishly.

”The North Lane pleasure quarter.”

”...” Ding Songyan thought about it and decided it was fine.

Better to burn off some energy. Stop thinking about killing people!

He then turned his thoughts to longer-term plans. Once his own matters were resolved, if he was still alive, he would talk to their mother about finding Bull a wife.

But given Bull’s nature, wouldn’t that be ruining some poor girl’s life? Ding Songyan immediately felt uneasy about it.

He returned to the west wing and found his sister Qingyan sitting on his bed, waiting for him with a smile.

”You need something too?” Ding Songyan asked with a touch of helplessness.

Qingyan smiled sweetly.

”Second Brother, tell me a story tonight?”

Compared to Xiao Qing, Qingyan’s smile was sweeter and more inviting, without making one feel inadequate.

Well, I did just see my former self’s remnant soul. Otherwise... Ding Songyan sighed once more.

”All right.”

”You’re the best, Second Brother!” Qingyan praised him with a bright smile, then obediently returned to the inner room and lay down.

Ding Songyan shook his head, leaned against the wall at the head of his bed, and narrated from Lady Bai stealing the elixir of immortality all the way to Xu Xian entering Jinshan Temple.

Late into the night, Qingyan’s voice grew heavy with sleep.

”Second Brother, Mother says before I come of age, she wants to rent a bigger place. Five rooms. By then, I won’t be able to listen to your stories or chat before falling asleep.”

”Then I’ll tell you the story and go back to my own room afterward.” Ding Songyan was quite professional when it came to coaxing his sister.

Though he had been an only child, his father’s and mother’s siblings had given him two paternal cousins and three maternal cousins, all girls younger than him, and they visited frequently, so they often hung out together.

Qingyan drifted off contentedly. Ding Songyan continued his late-night writing.

This installment had Xu Shilin’s sect refusing to help him fight Fahai because Lady Bai was a yao. Only a few martial brothers and sisters aided him in their personal capacity. But Fahai learned of this in advance and set up the Arhat Grand Formation, causing Xu Shilin’s first rescue attempt to end in failure.

As he wrote, Ding Songyan caught Xiao Qing’s figure in the corner of his eye.

Xiao Qing had returned to the outfit from their first meeting: a round-collared white jacket with a green-bordered white skirt, her hair in twin hanging loops.

Ding Songyan considered briefly, then spoke directly.

”Miss Xiao Qing, I heard from someone that the tail is a moth-man from the Moth-God Sect.”

”Them...” Xiao Qing blinked in surprise, then frowned slightly. ”Who told you?”

Ding Songyan wanted to speak but found the words had already slipped away.

”You can’t say?” Xiao Qing’s eyes turned alertly. ”Just answer yes or no. The Zhen household?”