He saw Mo Ran as a child, smiling brightly at his mother. He saw Duan Yihan stroking Mo Ran’s head and saying, “Repay kindness; do not seek revenge.”

     He saw Mo Ran holding the box of pastries Xue Meng had given him and eating them carefully, not willing to waste a single crumb.

     He saw Mo Ran standing in front of the wine shop in Wuchang Town, wearing the robes of a new disciple. He handed the silver pieces in his pocket to the shopkeeper with both hands, then smiled bashfully and expectantly. “I want a pot of pear blossom white. Can you put it in a better looking wine pot? I want to give it to my Shizun to try.”

     All the memories came back one after another.

     The warmest and most beautiful memories of the past that had once been in Mo Ran’s heart flashed by like a revolving lantern.

     In the images, Mo Ran was smiling all the time, from his childhood when he was hungry and cold to those youthful years before the blooming of the Eight Sufferings Everlasting Hatred Flower. But these memories were not many. Mo Ran had too little pure time in his life, and there were only a handful of days when he could laugh to his heart’s content.

     Chu Wanning looked at the passing memories that went by one by one.

     Then everything settled down.

     Because their souls had been entangled for so long, at this moment, he could clearly feel that before the Long Hatred Flower was planted, Mo Ran had actually liked him so much, respected him, clung to him, and loved him. Even though he didn’t like to smile and was even a little strict when teaching spells, he still liked him.

     He just liked him. He felt familiar and warm.

     He thought that this ice-cold Shizun was actually a very good person at heart.

     Mo Ran actually liked him… At such a young age, he had loved him earnestly and innocently.

     The memories in front of him continued to flow through his mind. Chu Wanning followed Mo Ran’s memories into a clear, moonlit night. That night, a lone lamp was lit in the disciple room at Sisheng Peak. Mo Ran sat at the table, facing an open scroll, and carefully sewed on the white handkerchief in his hand.

     After a few stitches, he clumsily pricked the tip of his finger, and blood dripped down, staining the cloth.

     Mo Ran’s eyes opened wide, then he appeared unhappy and sighed. “It’s so hard.”

     The white handkerchief was rolled up and tossed to the side.

     He took out a new one and sewed again.

     The candle was lit for the entire night. After throwing away countless handkerchiefs, his hands finally became more nimble. Slowly, the pink petals began to blossom—one petal, two petals… five petals.

     Each petal was embroidered with detail—each petal was embroidered with sincerity.

     The boy clumsily embroidered a white handkerchief, stitch by stitch, until it blossomed into a haitang flower that bloomed all year-round.

     There was a light in his eyes as he looked at the handkerchief.

     After the embroidery was done, it was actually very poor. There were many uneven places, and it was obvious at a glance that this was the work of a novice. But Mo Ran was overjoyed. He looked left and right excitedly, then threw the handkerchief up. The soft handkerchief floated in the air and landed on his face.

     It covered his face.

     He laughed out loud under the handkerchief and blew on it. The corner of the haitang handkerchief was lifted, revealing his gentle eyes underneath, full of light.

     “I’ll give this to Shizun. He will definitely like it.”

     His heart was heavy with warmth. It was a warmth that the cursed flower planted later could not tolerate and had to devour.

     “In the future, every time he uses this handkerchief, he will think of me.”

      Mo Ran put the handkerchief away in his chest pocket and imagined countless times that Chu Wanning would praise him and look happy. He only felt uncontrollable joy and happiness. That night, he ran excitedly to Chu Wanning’s room to find the man standing by the pond watching the fish.

     “Shizun!”

     He ran over happily, his face full of radiance.

     Chu Wanning turned around and was a little surprised. “Why are you here?”

     “I, achoo—”

     It was cold, and he had come out in a hurry and didn’t wear a cloak. Before the youth could finish his words, he sneezed first.

     Chu Wanning said, “...What’s so urgent that you don’t even remember to put on a coat?”

     Mo Ran rubbed his nose and grinned. “I can’t wait any longer. I have something. If I don’t give it to Shizun, I won’t be able to sleep.”

     “What is it?”

     “An apprenticeship ceremony gift for Shizun.” As he spoke, he carefully took the folded handkerchief from his chest pocket. When it came to the gift, he suddenly became timid, and his face turned red. “Actually… actually it isn’t worth much. It’s not, it’s not very good.”

     After some thought, he hid the handkerchief behind his back and began to tap his toes on the ground uneasily.

     Chu Wanning: “...”

     “What did you buy?”

     The youth’s ears were completely red. He blushed and replied, “I didn’t buy it. I don’t have any money…”

     Chu Wanning was stunned for a moment. “You made it yourself?”

     Mo Ran lowered his head, and his eyelashes were like clouds. He said softly, “Yes.”

     Without waiting for Chu Wanning to answer, he hurriedly said, “Forget it. It’s actually very, very, very ugly!” After saying it again and again, he still felt that it wasn’t enough. When he gathered the courage to look up at Chu Wanning again, he forcefully added, “Especially ugly.”

     Chu Wanning still remembered his feelings from that time. In fact, he felt amazed and pleasantly surprised.

     He had never received a personally handmade gift.

     But he was too embarrassed to show it. He was also too embarrassed to smile. He could only tighten his face, afraid that his disciple would see the sweetness in his heart.

     He coughed lightly and said after careful consideration, “Well, now that you’ve already made it, no matter how ugly, you should still show it to me, right?”

     In the end, Mo Ran still took out the handkerchief. He wanted to present it with both hands, but he felt that the handkerchief had already been wrinkled after all the fuss, so he hurriedly tried to smooth it out.

     Just as his face was burning red, a slender hand reached over and took the handkerchief that was embarrassing him to death.

     All the chaos and confusion died down.

     “Ah.” Mo Ran was dumbfounded and couldn’t help but say, “Shizun, it’s really ugly…”

     At that time, Chu Wanning hadn’t yet fallen in love with Mo Ran. He only remembered those bright black eyes. They were wet, like rain on flowers, very beautiful.

     Sometimes love was as fast as lightning and thunder, and sometimes it was as slow as dripping water eroding stone.

     Chu Wanning was the latter. His heart was deeply moved by the youth’s tenderness, bit by bit. At that time, he didn’t realize how powerful his glances and smiles were or the result of them.

     When he suddenly discerned it, this tenderness had become a quagmire, and he was deeply trapped in it. From then on, he was unable to extricate himself from it.

     “A hankerchief?”

     “Mm… mhm…”

     The white handkerchief was made of natural silk, with haitang flowers embroidered in the corner. The needlework was carefully firm, so raw that it was a bit cute.

     The desolate valley of Chu Wanning’s heart was suddenly moved. There was a flowering spring in the valley as flowers fell and poured into it. He looked at the square handkerchief and didn’t know what to say for a long time.

     This was his first time receiving such a gift.

     Seeing that he didn’t say anything, the gift-giver thought that he didn’t like it. He stuttered as he explained, “I, I embroidered it according to the painting in the scroll. Actually… uh, actually, this kind of handkerchief is sold in town. It’s not expensive. The embroidery… is much better than mine.”

     He finally got a little anxious and wanted to ask for the handkerchief back. But Chu Wanning was a step ahead of him and had already put it away in the lapel of his robe.

     “Nonsense. How can you give an apprenticeship ceremony gift and then ask for it back?”

     The wrinkled handkerchief and Mo Ran’s handiwork were both very shabby. In Wuchang town, one could buy eight pieces of the same design for ten copper coins.

     But he just felt that it was precious and didn’t want to return it.

     So, it became the first gift that Mo Ran gave to Chu Wanning in his life. After being afflicted with the curse, whether it was this memory or this handkerchief, Mo Weiyu had forgotten it all.

     Chu Wanning was thin-faced and not good with words, so he never specifically mentioned it later. But when he saw that Mo Ran was becoming more and more interested in Shi Mei, following him everywhere and giving him at least eighty, if not a hundred things, he became more and more silent. He didn’t want to let Mo Ran easily see this handkerchief again.

     It was something that Mo Ran had casually given to him, and he treasured it.

     He remembered…

     The merging of his earth soul brought back the past. Things like this—one by one, Chu Wanning slowly recalled them all.

     He stood up, more furious, more anxious, more sorrowful, and more pained than ever before—

     His hands were trembling. He finally knew the truth. He knew the whole story.

     In fact, it wasn’t just his childhood that was wronged.

     It wasn’t just being bewitched by Shi Mei.

     It was far more than that.

     But these most important memories were suppressed by Shi Mei’s curse. For twenty years and two lifetimes, no one knew the truth of this incident.

     Until today.

     The truth, the truth…

     This was the ultimate truth!

     There was no one on Mount Jiao to stop him. Chu Wanning didn’t care about anything else. He ran to the foot of the mountain like mad. When he arrived at the nearest village, he asked where Mo Ran was.

     “That Mo-zongshi?” The villager didn’t know Chu Wanning’s identity, so he said harshly, “What zongshi? He’s just a beast of a man who isn’t what he appears to be.”

     A beast of a man who isn’t what he appears to be.

     Sinner…

     Tyrant.

     He felt dizzy, as if drowning in two lifetimes. Emperor Taxian-Jun from the previous life was grinning at him ferociously, and Mo Weiyu from this life was smiling down at him.

     No.

     This wasn’t the truth.

     Chu Wanning asked with a pale face, “Where is he?”

     “Tianyin Pavilion.” The villager said, “Everyone in the upper cultivation and lower cultivation worlds knows about the heinous crimes this person has committed. Today, his spiritual core will be dug out, and he will receive the punishment he deserves!”

     It was as if a mountain had been split open, causing his head to buzz.

     “When is the punishment?!” Chu Wanning asked too impatiently. His phoenix eyes flashed with light, scaring the villager.

     “I, I can’t remember clearly. I think it’s… noon?”

     Noon… noon… He looked at the sundial beside the sun area, and his expression suddenly changed!

     The Ascending Dragon Talisman broke through the sky, setting off violent winds and waves. Chu Wanning ordered the paper dragon to take him to the wind in a hurry. At first, the paper dragon wanted to bicker with its master, but it was surprised to find that there were tears in Chu Wanning’s eyes.

     The little paper dragon was shocked. “...What’s wrong with you?”

     “Help me.”

     It had never seen Chu Wanning like this before. It didn’t know what to do, and only said, “This Venerable One has never failed to help you—oh, don’t cry.”

     Chu Wanning gritted his teeth ruthlessly, but he was already an empty shell.

     The truth was like a worm biting his spine.

     “I’m not crying. Take me to Tianyin Pavilion. If I don’t hurry, it’ll be too late!”

     “What are you going to do there?”

     “Save him!” He couldn’t stop shaking. He didn’t want to cry—he never wanted to cry, but the tears finally flowed down. Chu Wanning wiped his red eyes.

     “Save a wrongfully convicted man.”

     “...”

     “If there is anyone in this world who deserves to have his spiritual core dug out and be cursed by thousands of people, it shouldn’t be him.” Chu Wanning said hoarsely, “I want to clear his name.”

     The paper dragon didn’t ask any more questions. It carried him and turned into a majestic dragon with towering horns. It roared and soared into the sky. The wind shook the mountains. For a moment, its beard fluttered, and cold fog shattered as it soared in the moist sea of clouds.

     Chu Wanning sat beside its dragon horns.

     A strong current of air brushed across his face. It was so cold in the sky that the blood of his fingertips seemed to be frozen. He looked ahead, looking at the layers of clouds, mountains, endless rivers, and all the things in the world that passed below like the past of yesterday.

     In fact, from the moment he woke up, he was unstable, numb, and broken.

     Now that he had calmed down, he was completely immersed in the sorrow of the past. He curled up on the dragon and slowly buried his face in his palms.

     The wind was strong, whistling past his ears.

     They wanted to interrogate Mo Ran. They wanted to cut open his heart and break his spiritual core—

     Heinous and unforgivable crimes, deserving ten thousand deaths.

     No.

     The sound of the wind was so loud. It was enough to cover all the happiness, anger, and sorrow of mortals.

     The sky was high, and the clouds were vast. Chu Wanning finally broke down crying in this sorrowful wind. These two lives… whether it was Emperor Taxian-Jun or Mo Ran…

     It shouldn’t be like this.

     Mo Ran was right about one thing.

     From the start, the bow under Heaven-Piercing was wrong.

     The sun was getting higher, and the copper pot outside Tianyin Pavilion had reached a certain mark. The female official struck the bell and shouted, “It’s noon—”

     Birds were startled.

     “Execute the punishment!”

     He was on the punishment platform, tied with immortal binding rope. His outer robe was removed, and his collar was opened.

     Mu Yanli’s expression was cold. Holding her holy weapon dagger, she stepped forward to stand in front of Mo Ran.

     “Today is the day I will punish you. I hope you will repent.”

      Her lips opened and closed as she recited the ancient words of Tianyin Pavilion.

     “Tianyin is vast and mighty; there must be no selfishness.

     Tianyin’s sons must not be sentimental.

     Tianyin is faint and cannot be disrespectful to the gods.

     Tianyin is compassionate and respects all living beings.”

     She lowered her eyes and bowed to Mo Ran—it was a farewell gesture.

     Then the blade was unsheathed. Sparks flew, the holy weapon hummed, and golden feathers scattered in all directions. The dagger reflected her eyes, but there was no emotion in them.

     Some people below covered their eyes, some stretched their necks, and some clapped their hands.

     There was nothing more to life than this.

     “Now, heavenly punishment by taking away the spiritual core.”

     She raised the dagger, and blood splattered everywhere.

     Dead silence.

     Then someone on the stage shouted loudly. The sound shook the sky. “Ge—!!!”

     Red. Bright red blood flowed out as the holy weapon dagger sank into his chest. Mo Ran opened his eyes. At first, he didn’t feel anything, but then he stiffly lowered his head and looked at the hideous flesh and blood of his heart.

     His lips moved, and severe pain began to explode like fireworks. In front of his eyes, light and shadow clashed violently.

     “Cough, cough!!”

     Blood gushed from his mouth, dripping with the smell of iron.

     The vastness of heaven and earth turned into a miserable sea of red.

     But it was wrong. It was all wrong.

     Chu Wanning flew on the dragon, getting closer and closer to the ground.

     He had once thought that Mo Ran was indifferent to him and played games in the mortal world because of resentment, because of the hatred in his heart.

     He once thought that Mo Ran had gradually forgotten the initial gentleness between the two of them after being punished and reprimanded again and again.

     Actually, that wasn’t the case. Those memories had always been trapped in Mo Ran’s soul.

     He saw it.

     Chu Wanning saw the deepest parts of Mo Ran’s heart. Under the suppression of the Eight Sufferings Everlasting Hatred Flower, it was filled with the deepest love of the past.

     That year, Mo Ran was still so young and pure. He still had a warm and healthy heart beating in his chest. That year, he saw his newly recognized Shizun standing by the lacquered wood window of the pavilion, who turned his face to him and said, “Mo Ran, come here.”

     As he got closer, he saw a brush, ink, and paper in front of him.

     “I heard from Sect Leader that you still don’t know how to write your own name. Pick up the brush. I’ll teach you.”

     He taught him. His voice was as light as the apricot blossoms outside the window, blooming in the misty sky.

     “The courtesy name Sect Leader gave you is ‘Weiyu,’ which is the opposite of your given name. I’ll write it down, look carefully.”

     So, the master wrote horizontal, vertical, and curved strokes, while his little disciple stood at the side and learned.

     “There’s one more stroke this time.”

     “There’s one less stroke this time.”

     He taught the two characters five times before he could barely write them correctly. But they were as shabby as a ghost’s handwriting and extremely ugly. Chu Wanning had never had such a stupid disciple. He couldn’t help but feel a little depressed. “...Is it very difficult?”

     It wasn’t difficult.

     But at that time, Mo Ran didn’t dare to tell him that it was because he looked so beautiful when he lowered his eyes to write. He was greedy and wanted a lot, so he deliberately wrote more strokes or fewer strokes.

     Just so he could teach him again.

     “It’s so difficult.”

     Chu Wanning glared at him. “Look carefully. Don’t laugh.”

     Mo Ran pursed his lips and smiled, sincerely distressed. “Then, Shizun, write it and teach me again.”

     He really liked the moment when he lowered his head and his phoenix eyes curved upwards.

     As long as Chu Wanning held his hand and taught him, he would hear the sound of haitang flowers blooming outside the window.

     The punishment platform had a high barrier. No one could stop Tianyin’s judgment.

     The holy weapon dagger was sharp enough to cut gold and could understand its master’s intentions. Mu Yanli’s expression was dull, as if she could not hear Mo Ran’s breathing, nor see his face as pale as a corpse, nor see the protruding veins on Mo Ran’s forehead and the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

     She only carried out the judgment of the holy weapon scale.

     Digging out the spiritual core.

     The dagger stabbed into his heart and quickly sliced through his flesh. When she detected the fragments of the spiritual core, she gathered her strength and pulled them out. The dagger was sharp and would inevitably cut into his flesh.

     She did not seem to care at all, throwing the flesh and blood together with the shimmering fragments onto the silver plate held by the attendant beside her.

     The healing female cultivator immediately stepped forward and stopped the surging blood. She pressed her hand against his spasming heart to prevent him from dying.

     The scale’s judgment was to dig out his spiritual core, so Tianyin Pavilion would protect him scrupulously. At least, he would not die on the platform during the process of executing the sentence.

     They kept him awake in case they couldn’t tell whether he was in a coma or near death because of the pain, so Mo Ran watched his heart being cut open again and again, searching for fragments, then temporarily suppressed and healed.

     Again and again.

     Xue Meng had already broken down. He was wailing, his face buried in his palms as tears streamed down his face.

     “Ge…”

     He was in so much pain that his spiritual consciousness blurred, and his veins suddenly bulged.

     But he felt that he had finally been liberated.

     Every time Mu Yanli’s dagger fell, piercing his heart and digging out the fragments, he felt that the sins of his previous life and the blood on his hands had faded a little.

     Would he be forgiven when the pain was over?

     Would it be possible to return to the past after cutting out the remnants?

     But where was the past?

     If he returned to the day when he chose to become a disciple under Heaven-Piercing Tower, he would still be the false Young Master of Sisheng Peak, and his mother would have also already starved to death. That happiness would be an illusion.

     If he were to return to the woodshed of his childhood, when it was just him and Duan Yihan relying on each other, he was afraid that due to a combination of circumstances, he would never meet Chu Wanning again. This kind of happiness would also be extremely regretful.

     Looking back on the past, he couldn’t find a point in his two lifetimes where he could truly start anew with a clear conscience. He couldn’t find an honest carefree day, with clothing, food, and warmth, even if it was just one day.

     In his two lives, for more than forty years, he never had a single night of peace.

     Mu Yanli’s dagger was still buried deep in his flesh, acting with justice on behalf of the heavens.

     He knew that his soul was dirty and filthy, that his sins were unforgivable. The heavens’ law would fall upon him, and judgment would always eventually come.

     But at this moment, he suddenly felt a bit sad.

     He wanted a mother, a master, a younger brother, an uncle and aunt—he wanted a family.

     However, he was probably too greedy and wanted too much.

     So in the end, he had nothing.

     The happiness he knew and the warmth he had attained was ultimately fake. He was no match for the water going through the basket, leaving only sand in his palm.

     It took everything to make up for it, but nothing came of it.

     He stood by the river of life, holding his small, wet basket. He crouched down, but the basket was empty as he stared blankly at the rushing tide of the river and the people passing on.

     In fact, from the very beginning, he only had this small basket that he held.

     It was a net destined to break.