Chapter 156
Chapter 156: Fallen Flowers and Dead Bamboo - A Tale of Love's
Tragedy (Part 2)
In this world, the most lamentable thing is the twists of fate.
He could clearly feel his body decaying day by day, his life slipping away bit by bit. Since his last parting with
Si Cang Qing, he remembered everything; the memories of four different souls merged into one.
He didn't know which one he was now.
But he knew long ago that this life would not end well, because since making that poisonous oath on that snowy
night, he had embarked on a path of no return. He wanted to kill Qiang Chouci first, to eliminate the Qiang clan,
but alas, he was ultimately just a puppet, unable to enter the South Sea, and powerless to resist the control of this
curse.
So he waited for an opportunity, setting up one trap after another, luring Qiang Chouci away from the South Sea
while simultaneously trying to use Si Cang Qing to conquer the South Sea and destroy the Qiang clan.
But little did they know, he, or they, would gradually be drawn to Si Cang Qing. Thus, all the plans proceeded
step by step according to the predetermined method. Revenge was just around the corner. Wen, at the end of his
life, resolved to scheme to get close to Si Cang Qing so that Mo Qing Jue wouldn't have any regrets, and to
conveniently help Si Cang Qing destroy Hong Cheng. However, his body was completely destroyed. He had been
maintaining balance through the interplay of a Gu curse and a Duan qing Gu. To avoid detection, he used a
forbidden technique to make himself appear no different from an ordinary person.
The consequences of this forbidden magic were predictable: it accelerated the decline of his already frail life.
Yet at that time, “Mo Qing Jue” was completely unaware of this, and “Wen,” “Ao,” and “Qiang Qingmo” did not
care in the slightest.
“Qiang Qingmo” was simply carrying out orders in a daze, without any independent thought; while “Wen” and
“Ao” existed solely for revenge and to protect “Mo Qing Jue's” wishes, thus making this meaningless decision.
After killing Qiang Chouci, the curse was completely lifted. Without the curse's restraint, his broken body couldn't
withstand the backlash of the Duan qing Gu.
With no will to live, he was content to become a ghost. Even if he didn't die a peaceful death, no one would care.
But fate always loves to play tricks on people. None of them expected to fall in love with the emperor they were
sworn enemies with.
During the final battle at Chaotian Mountain, he had already given up hope of survival. Just as he was determined
to perish with Qiang Chouci, fate once again dealt him a cruel blow. He didn't die, but his body was completely
destroyed in the explosion. Neither the curse nor the Duan qing Gu could withstand it.
He knew his mission had come to an end. So, selfishly, he wanted to possess that person's entire heart and soul
in his final months.
He believed this would allow him to smile as he passed into the afterlife, knowing that someone loved him—
that even after he died and turned to dust, someone would remember him forever and think of him constantly.
Then his life would no longer be entirely hollow and meaningless.
But one misstep leads to a string of failures. That person turned and walked away without a second glance.
He asked, “Was our love all a lie?” The other replied, “There was never any to begin with—so how could there
be any question of truth or falsehood?!”
In the end, he could no longer contain himself. Dragging his battered body, he secretly followed that person to
the imperial capital. By then, he was completely unable to stand; he could only lie helplessly in the palanquin,
listening to the laughter and merriment and the thunderous drumbeats, imagining that person’s grace and recalling
their wedding night.
Only when his life truly drew to a close did he realize just how deeply, how deeply, he would miss that person.
Yet he never regretted it.
“Ah Qing,” he smiled, the corner of his eye twitching ever so slightly.
Si Cang Qing crouched at the head of the bamboo bed, his hand suspended in the air tentatively reaching out to
touch the man’s decaying face, calling softly, “Mo….”
His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and his once-clouded gaze gradually cleared. Mo Qing Jue strained to turn
his head toward the man; this time, he knew this was no illusion.
Si Cang Qing sensed his intention, and his hand finally touched the viscous, mangled face. A cold sensation
surged from the tips of his fingers throughout his entire body, and the faint, dull ache instantly erupted into endless
terror.
He spoke once more, very softly, “Mo….”
He tried to open his mouth, but found he had not a shred of strength left. Mo Qing Jue’s eyes gradually clouded
over, and he sighed softly, “Ah Qing… you’re here…”
“Mm.”
“I’m not Qiang Qingmo…”
Si Cang Qing paused slightly, but then heard him continue to whisper, “I’m not Qiang Qingmo… I’m not Wen,
not Ao, not Mo Qing Jue…”
He said softly, “I don’t know who I really am anymore.”
Carefully tracing his fingers along the other’s face to his brow, Si Cang Qing replied softly, “It’s all right. You are
you.” Those four personalities were, in fact, all parts of Mo Qing Jue’s inner self.
And now, this person was finally whole.
“Aqing, hold me.” Mo Qing Jue didn’t press the matter further, his eyes filled with a hint of longing. “I’ve missed
you so much.”
Seeing that this person’s body seemed to have completely shattered, Si Cang Qing felt a twinge of hesitation and
didn’t move for a moment.
As if suddenly remembering something, Mo Qing Jue abruptly closed his eyes. “The way I look right now… it’s
ugly, isn’t it? Disgusting…”
“No,” Si Cang Qing stood up, carefully supporting the other’s neck, and sat down on the bamboo bed. He gradually
tightened his arms, gently cradling the person halfway into his embrace.
“Heh, so you know how to comfort people too, Ah Qing…” Mo Qing Jue lifted his eyelids slightly, his eyes
narrowed to slits. His vision was a bit blurry as he gazed at that exceptionally familiar face.
Si Cang Qing gently ran a hand through the other’s hair and replied, “No.”
“Yeah, right.”
For a moment, it seemed as though the two had been transported back to the past, embracing each other and
breathing in the faint scent of bamboo.
Serene. Warm.
“Why did you suddenly come to see me?” Mo Qing Jue broke the silence, a hint of self-mockery in his voice.
“Were you worried that I… might bring you to your doom?”
They truly were mortal enemies, incompatible in life and death.
Whenever Si Cang Qing encountered himself, he was bound to face calamity; and whenever he encountered the
other, nothing good ever came of it.
A battle to the death—that was their fate.
“No,” Si Cang Qing replied calmly, “I’ve come to take you away.”
Yes, on his way here, he hadn’t intended to take this person away, but now… he didn’t want to go against his own
heart. He wanted to save him, to let Mo Qing Jue live happily just as he had during those two months.
“You said,” Mo Qing Jue’s voice was so faint it was almost inaudible, “that there was never any feeling between
us…”
Si Cang Qing replied without hesitation, “That’s a lie.”
“So you lie, too?” His tone rose slightly; he seemed somewhat curious.
“Mm,” Si Cang Qing acknowledged, adding calmly, “I lie all the time.”
Mo Qing Jue narrowed his eyes. He wanted to laugh out loud but couldn’t bring himself to do so; instead, he
murmured wearily, “Then how am I supposed to know… if you’re lying right now?”
At that, Si Cang Qing was momentarily at a loss for words. He didn’t continue his explanation; he merely drew
his arm back slightly.
“I’m taking you back to the palace now.”
In truth, he had absolutely no guarantee he could save this man, but… he didn’t want Mo Qing Jue to die just like
that, and he didn’t want to bring up his past reservations anymore. He, Si Cang Qing, never believed in fate; he
believed only in himself.
He wanted Mo Qing Jue; even if the other brought him danger, he would keep him by his side.
If death is inevitable, then let’s face it head-on!
“Wait… wait,” Mo Qing Jue raised his hand, trying to stop Si Cang Qing from standing up. “Aqing, don’t go.
Stay… and talk to me.”
Si Cang Qing paused for a moment, reached out to clasp the other man’s limp, hanging hand, and squeezed it
gently. “All right.”
“……”
Though they were supposed to be talking, both were quiet by nature, and for a moment, neither spoke.
“Ah Qing….”
After an unknown amount of time, the person in his arms spoke again, their voice so low that even Si Cang Qing
could barely hear it. He leaned down, pressing his ear close to the other’s mouth, and heard them say:
“After I die, you must not forget me.”
“After I die, take me… home, and bury me in the bamboo grove.”
Si Cang Qing said, “You won’t die. Once you’re well again, I’ll have that bamboo grove transplanted into
the palace.”
“The palace is our home.”
Mo Qing Jue smiled faintly, forcing his eyes open to etch this person’s face deeply into his heart, never to forget
it for all eternity. After a long while, exhaustion suddenly overcame him, so he closed his eyes, a faint smile
curving his lips:
“In the next life, let’s go boating and fishing together again.”
Si Cang Qing did not reply, but simply tightened his arms little by little, cradling this person’s decaying body,
remaining motionless.
A sudden gust of wind swept in, sending countless dark brown bamboo seeds swirling through the air.
Si Cang Qing scooped up Mo Qing Jue in his arms and turned to leave. “Xiang, hurry back to the palace!”
“Your Majesty,” the assassin who had stormed the palace that day suddenly stepped in front of Si Cang Qing,
his eyes filled with sorrow as he stared intently at the person in Si Cang Qing’s arms. “The Shadow Master is
gone. Please do not disturb his rest any further.”
Hearing this, Si Cang Qing shot the man a cold glare; the murderous aura radiating from him caused the man to
flinch involuntarily. Ignoring him, Si Cang Qing strode away.
Without trying to stop him, Qingying simply stared blankly as the young man in white, cradling his master,
gradually disappeared into the bamboo grove. Slowly bending down, he picked up a tiny bamboo seed and let out
a low sigh.
Inside the Huan’ao Hall, several people had gathered, each with a troubled expression as they gazed at the figure
lying on the bed.
“QingDi,” Qiu Ping Tian averted his gaze and quietly fixed his eyes on Si Cang Qing. “Why did you bring him
back?”
Si Cang Qing did not answer. Instead, he carefully pulled back the man’s clothes, taking care not to let the partially
decayed skin on his body come into contact with them. After a moment, he looked up at Cheng Tian Bi. “Bi, save
him.”
As soon as those soft words left his lips, everyone’s gaze suddenly turned to him.
Cheng Tian Bi walked over, bent down to examine the man, and then replied in a low voice: “ “There’s nothing
we can do to save him…”
Si Cang Qing was shaken. He had thought… Mo Qing Jue was clearly dead, but he’d clung to a sliver of hope
when he asked Cheng Tian Bi for help. He never expected to hear “There’s nothing we can do to save him.”
The implication was clear: this man wasn’t actually dead!
“Save him.”
Si Cang Qing spoke again, his tone firm.
Cheng Tian Bi glanced at Mo Qing Jue, then looked at Si Cang Qing. For a long moment, he remained silent.
The others, too, stood frozen in place.
The atmosphere in the room was suffocatingly oppressive.
“Smack!”
Taking two steps at a time, Cheng Tian Yang rushed to Si Cang Qing’s side and, without a word, slapped him
across the face.
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