Breaking Free of Hell

At last, Song Qingshi connected the child with the red tear mole from his memories to the peerless beauty on the golden bird stand.

A meddlesome onlooker overheard the conversation and clapped, laughing. "Xie Que's methods are truly vile. The scene when his little disciple discovers the truth is bound to be very entertaining."

Since entering the path of cultivation, Jin Feiren had collected countless beauties, yet the thought of Yue Wuhuan's arrival still delighted him. "That year, on my eight-hundredth birthday, there were countless well-wishers. I laid out a grand feast here on Langgan Terrace and invited my friends to celebrate with me. Xie Que came with Wuhuan as well. He seemed to have told Wuhuan that he was sending him to Jinfeng Mountain Manor to study the sword under a master, and Wuhuan was so happy. When Xie Que took out the divine-sense bead at the banquet and asked me to inspect the slave, the look of disbelief on his face was truly adorable..."

Jin Feiren idly tousled the white-clad youth's long hair, forcing him to look at the beauty playing the flute on the golden bird stand, then recounted the events of that year in detail for the crowd.

At the time, Yue Wuhuan had only just come of age. He wore the Moonwave robes favored by disciples of the immortal sects, a treasured sword at his waist, his hair secured by a simple white-jade crown. He carried the clean scent of youth; his features were exquisite, his phoenix eyes clear and bright, his bearing proper and poised. He did not look like someone born in the mortal world, but rather like a young master from an immortal family.

He solemnly bowed to each immortal master at the banquet, then told Jin Feiren with eager anticipation that he had already reached mid-Foundation Establishment. In the future, he would study the sword diligently at Jinfeng Mountain Manor, live up to his master's expectations, and become a formidable sword cultivator like Moyuan. Everyone at the banquet laughed then, their laughter tinged with suggestiveness. Amid that laughter, Yue Wuhuan realized something was wrong and tried to step back, but Jin Feiren had already come down, seized his hand, and examined it closely. Smiling, he said, "Hands this beautiful are not suited to sword practice. They are better suited to serving others."

Yue Wuhuan's face went white as he desperately tried to pull his hand back.

Jin Feiren released him and smiled. "Immortal Master Xie, since you have brought such fine merchandise, you must at least let me inspect it."

The people at the banquet joined in the heckling, demanding that the inspection be carried out on the spot.

Before Yue Wuhuan's eyes, his master took out a red bead. With a turn of divine sense, Yue Wuhuan lost control of his body. He fought desperately to stop his trembling hands from reaching for his waist, but they threw away his treasured sword as though it were trash. Then his belt fell away, and layer by layer, his Moonwave robes slipped off. His dignity was laid bare before everyone, and his small dream was ground to dust.

Every sound at the banquet stopped. All eyes stared in astonishment at the beautiful sight before them.

Even Jin Feiren could not help sitting up straight.

Yue Wuhuan struggled within his controlled soul, wishing he could die at once. In agony, he looked to his master and laboriously moved his beautiful lips in a silent plea. At last, Xie Que walked toward him and gently reached out a hand, just as he had on so many former days when he stroked Yue Wuhuan's head and praised him.

Gently, Xie Que removed his white-jade crown.

The white-jade crown struck the floor and shattered. His slightly wavy hair spilled free, cascading to his waist and covering the coquettish Joyous Union Brand on his pale back. The despair and helplessness in his dark-gold phoenix eyes were enough to stir cruel impulses in anyone; his red tear mole made hearts itch. The beautiful youth had been controlled into a bewitching thing capable of stealing souls.

Struggling, Yue Wuhuan lowered his head, wanting to hide his shame in the darkness.

Xie Que seized Yue Wuhuan's long hair and yanked it savagely backward, forcing the youth, already mortified beyond bearing, to raise his head so that everyone could clearly see that beauty capable of toppling kingdoms.

He smiled and said, "My eye has never been wrong."

...

The flute music grew ever more languid, and beneath that languor, ever more sorrowful.

Grief had made Song Qingshi's throat stiff; he could barely breathe. Gradually, he understood the meaning of the things Yue Wuhuan had said by the riverbank. It was as though he saw his former self, imprisoned in the cage of his body, crying out every day while no one heard his pleas for help.

He did not want to think any longer. In his mind, he marked down his answer.

The one he wanted to save was this beautiful bird, covered in wounds.

Song Qingshi began thinking frantically about how he could take Yue Wuhuan away without arousing suspicion.

The song ended. The flute fell silent, its lingering notes curling through the air.

The guests had long since been aroused, some even making fools of themselves.

Jin Feiren rose and generously announced, "This is Jinfeng Mountain Manor's plaything for all you immortal friends tonight. Enjoy yourselves to your hearts' content."

Song Qingshi started, looking over in concern. Yue Wuhuan merely arched a brow, as though he had long grown accustomed to such scenes. Utterly unconcerned, he cast seductive glances at the immortal masters beside him. His pretty calf extended from beneath his feathered skirt, making the bells on his golden ankle shackles jingle as he gently swayed them toward the crowd, as though inviting them to sample him.

The young master of the Moonhidden Sect watched with heated eyes. He reached out, seized that foot, and tried to tear off the feathered skirt and drag Yue Wuhuan aside to play with him.

Suddenly, screams came from outside the hall. Maids and servants fled in all directions as a yao tiger burst in. Its eyes were blood-red. It stared at Yue Wuhuan, continuously growling low in its throat, as though it had spotted delicious prey. Yet Yue Wuhuan's gaze began to lose focus, as though he had been drugged. He did not seem to know fear; he actually walked toward the yao tiger step by step, as though he did not know what it was...

Immortal Venerable Lingbao cried out in surprise, "Is this part of my friend's entertainment tonight? What extravagance!"

The guests were deep in their cups and found it thrilling beyond measure, applauding one after another.

At last, the white-clad youth could not bear it any longer. He stood, shoved Jin Feiren away, and shouted, "Stop! Don't do this! This is... too much!"

Jin Feiren was somewhat puzzled. He had arranged for a yao tiger to hunt a slave that night, but he had intended to use only an ordinary slave. Why would he be willing to waste a peerless beauty like Yue Wuhuan? But the guests were in high spirits, Yue Wuhuan was being sensible, and it would not do to spoil their fun. Besides, the youth at his side had accused him and made him lose face. So he sneered, "Why not? Open your eyes and have a good look. If you dare defy me again, I will let you taste these methods as well."

The white-clad youth's face went pale. His lips parted, but he did not dare make another sound.

As Yue Wuhuan drew near, the yao tiger went even more berserk. It had lost its reason. It pounced on Yue Wuhuan's shoulder and bit down. Yue Wuhuan's shoulder was torn open in a mangled, bloody gash. At last he woke from his daze and recoiled, but the yao tiger would not relent, continuing to claw and bite, intent on tearing the thing before it that wanted to flee into pieces.

At last, Song Qingshi found a suitable offensive spell in the original owner's memories. He condensed Netherworld Ghostfire into a needle as fine as an ox hair and shot it at the yao tiger. The tiger threw back its head and roared; the needle that should have struck its neck hit its leg instead.

Fortunately, the deadly poison of the Netherworld Ghostfire spread rapidly through the yao tiger's body. It stiffened instantly and collapsed sideways. Moments later, it dissolved into boiling corpse-fluid and vanished.

Song Qingshi rose, walked to Yue Wuhuan amid the pool of blood, swiftly sealed the wound and pressed several acupoints to stop the bleeding.

Yue Wuhuan trembled all over from the pain, gasping without cease. His beautiful face was smeared with blood, making him look like a vicious ghost. There was no joy at being saved in the eyes he turned on Song Qingshi—only deep hatred and despair. Finally, before losing consciousness, he said in a voice so soft it was nearly inaudible, "I was blind..."

Song Qingshi put a spirit pill into his mouth, preserving the vitality of his heart meridian.

Jin Feiren came over, displeased. "Immortal Venerable Song, why did you kill my yao tiger?"

That yao tiger was the apple of his eye. It possessed human-like intelligence and could protect its master. It was worth far more than a slave he had grown tired of playing with.

Recalling the original owner's usual manner of speech, Song Qingshi said coldly, "I want him."

Jin Feiren gave a smile that did not reach his eyes. "Could it be that Immortal Venerable has taken a fancy to this slut?"

Song Qingshi answered, "I want to use him to test medicine."

He wanted to use Yue Wuhuan to test every kind of spiritual pill and wondrous medicine, restoring his body to exactly the way it had been before!

Under Song Qingshi's deliberate misdirection, Jin Feiren's thoughts went entirely astray. The advantage of a wood spiritual root was its naturally powerful bodily recovery; it made an excellent subject for an alchemist. Immortal Venerable Yaowang's actions always came out of nowhere and were impossible to predict. Since the yao tiger was already dead, there was no point pursuing the matter. It would be better to take this opportunity to do Song Qingshi a favor.

Song Qingshi took a bottle of Immortal-Refining Pills from his mustard-seed pouch. Without even counting how many were inside, he handed it directly to Jin Feiren as compensation. Immortal-Refining Pills were immensely beneficial to cultivation, but their ingredients were extraordinarily precious and their yield scant. Those personally refined by Immortal Venerable Yaowang were even priceless on the market. To offer them as compensation for his yao tiger in exchange for a slave he had already tired of playing with, who was half-dead and might not even be saved, was exceedingly sincere...

Afraid Jin Feiren would refuse, Song Qingshi thought for a moment, then added, "This tiger was drugged. Its ferocity erupted and its mind became deranged; it cannot be kept."

Jin Feiren promptly took the offered way out. He wiped his divine sense from Yue Wuhuan's divine-sense bead and transferred it to Song Qingshi. Thanking Song Qingshi for discovering the problem in time and killing the yao tiger before it injured any guests, he ordered people to investigate thoroughly who had drugged the tiger and driven it mad.

Song Qingshi gave the manor lord a formal farewell, refusing his enthusiastic offer to send him several more beauties.

With his own hands, he picked up the gravely wounded, unconscious Yue Wuhuan and walked, step by step, out of that hell of carved balustrades and jade masonry.

Within that hell, many souls unable to escape were still sinking deeper...

Behind them, the lascivious laughter and merriment grew more distant.

The blood had been wiped from Yue Wuhuan's face. His raven-feather lashes lay closed, trembling faintly. He was fragile and beautiful.

As Song Qingshi looked at him, his heart gradually grew firm.

All at once, he remembered a story his mother had told him in childhood:

In the shallow pools on the beach, there were thousands upon thousands of dying fish, swept ashore by the tide.

He had no way to save every fish. He could only return the dying fish in his hands to the free sea.

"Because it matters to this fish."