EVERY NATION had its dark side. And any country's ministry of secret techniques would forever be one of its dirtiest, bloodiest, most unspeakable places. This was true in the Liao Kingdom, and it was just as true in Chonghua.
Zhou He sat in the rosewood chair spread with silver fox fur, one leg crossed over the other as he observed the scene in front of him.
Black magic trials were terrifyingly cruel, but they were also fast. Scarcely an incense time had passed since he'd given the order and two rounds of experiments had already been conducted. Gu Mang hung, strung up by the chains. Zhou He had used no numbing or suppressing herbs on him due to the requirements of the spells, and Gu Mang could feel each slice of the knife and each bite of the gu worms.
The bandages that gagged his mouth and pressed against his tongue were already soaked with blood. A nearby cultivator cut another length of gauze and took hold of Gu Mang's unconscious face to replace the bloody cloth. Gu Mang didn't react at all, his slender neck lolling. His face was paler than ice; even his lips were completely bloodless.
"How is his spiritual flow?" asked Zhou He.
"Extremely weak."
"What about the heart vein?"
"In complete disorder."
The Sishu Terrace cultivators watched three important indicators in these trials: spiritual energy flow, the heart vein, and mental strength. If preserving the specimen's life was of any importance at all, then these vitals had to be constantly monitored.
Zhou He frowned slightly as he examined Gu Mang's white and lifeless face, and his grip tightened on the armrests of his roundback chair. Beyond reporting to the emperor, he still had…that person's orders to complete. But given his current state, Gu Mang might not withstand much more. No one could endure such torment when their spiritual flow and pulse were both approaching collapse. He would break.
Biting his lip and closing his eyes in apprehension, Zhou He scowled. His grip on the chair slowly relaxed. He sighed, somewhat
vexed, and asked with an air of resignation, "How is his mental strength?"
The cultivator monitoring Gu Mang's condition put their fingertips to Gu Mang's forehead, soaked in cold sweat. Their eyes flew open at once. In disbelief, they checked again.
"How is it?" Zhou He asked impatiently.
"E-Elder, to answer your question," the disciple turned, stammering, "Gu…um, th-the test subject's mental strength remains strong. His mind shows no signs of deterioration."
Zhou He blanched. How could that be? Over the course of his long tenure at Sishu Terrace, subjects whose willpower hadn't collapsed in the first round of trials, much less the second, were rare as phoenix feathers. And those were by and large sturdy, durable, and healthy people. Gu Mang's physical condition was poor; the Liao Kingdom's tempering had left the marks of countless old wounds on his body, and three years at Luomei Pavilion had weakened him further. Now his heart vein and spiritual flow had reached their limit. How could he still…
Jumping to his feet, Zhou He strode over to Gu Mang and reached up with a spell at his fingertips to examine his icy forehead.
In that single touch, Zhou He's astonishment multiplied. Gu Mang's mental fortitude showed no sign of crumbling whatsoever. If you ignored his bloodstained body, Zhou He would've never believed this was the mental strength of a man who had been ravaged by black magic experiments until insensible. His steadiness seemed carved into his bones, so stubborn and formidable was the mind under Zhou He's fingers.
What exactly drove his persistence?
"Elder, what do we do next? The test subject's body can bear no more, but based on his mental strength, perhaps we could still…"
Zhou He gestured for silence. He stared into Gu Mang's face, an intense unease pricking at his heart.
In addition to completing the emperor's black magic experiments, he had also, due to a personal relationship, secretly accepted a request from a close friend—
He had to scramble Gu Mang's memories.
What in Gu Mang's memories was worth scrambling, he didn't know. After all, he already had amnesia and his mind was slow. But since they'd spoken, Zhou He wouldn't shrink from this favor. He had thought it more convenient to tend to this task after the trials were through, when Gu Mang's mind was nearly destroyed. But it seemed things hadn't gone as smoothly as expected.
Zhou He paused, deep in thought. "You may withdraw."
"Yes!"
When the attendants had left the room, Zhou He approached Gu Mang and lifted Lieying. Inch by inch, he polished it to a gleam.
He extended the blade, its icy surface pressed to Gu Mang's equally icy cheek. The holy weapon sensed at once that the body before it held a strong soul—this bloodthirsty falcon began shaking with excitement in Zhou He's hand.
Zhou He leaned down and brought his lips to Gu Mang's ear, murmuring to the unconscious man, "General Gu, I've conducted thousands of trials and wrung innumerable men of steel into puddles of muddy water. You alone are the exception. Honestly, I admire you."
Lieying flashed bright, its glare intensifying until it was a blinding white.
"Unfortunately, I've been entrusted with the task of breaking your mind."
No response came.
"My apologies."
With a flick of his wrist, Lieying transformed into many transparent chains coiling in his palm. They were as thin as willow branches, darting between his fingers like snakes as they hovered beside Gu Mang's head.
"Lieying," Zhou He commanded in a low voice, "Soul Chaos!"
As the order left his thin lips, Lieying emitted a shrill like a predator finally receiving its master's command. Those fine chains flew out, drilling into Gu Mang's skull.
"Ah—!"
Blood sprayed. Gu Mang was jolted awake by the devastating pain of that strike. He lifted his head, whimpering through a mouth gagged with gauze… His screams were weak with exhaustion, but tears flowed down his bloodstained cheeks. His blue eyes opened wide, pupils contracting violently. Strung up midair, he struggled with all his might as the restraints holding him clanked.
The fine chains of the holy weapon flailed madly within his skull like a violent intruder, screeching as they shattered his memories. Those scenes he had so painstakingly recalled, recovered, and come to possess—his priceless lucidity.
Gu Mang stared through wide blue eyes. In the throes of this agony, the delighted shouts of his brothers on the frontier were erased.
The emperor's promise upon the Golden Stage was erased.
Lu Zhanxing's sorrowful, bold laughter in the prison's Chamber of Ice was erased.
In the depths of his memories, Mo Xi's tender gaze when he looked at him, the love and devotion he had promised him over and over.…were all erased.
Every memory Lieying tore apart Gu Mang strove to recollect, resisting and trembling in despair. He had been stripped of his mind once already, and now, he was about to suffer it once more at Zhou He's hands.
A feeling of outrage suddenly overwhelmed him. Why did they treat him like this… Why did they reduce him to this? Why?!
For the promise of a better world, he'd offered up his flesh, his elder brother, his conscience, his lover, and his reputation. He had nothing left. He had even forgotten himself—he had even thought he really betrayed his country and betrayed its people, that he really had been willing to sacrifice anything for his ambition and vengeance.
Because of this, he had once agonizingly knelt before Mo Xi and before Murong Lian; he had knelt before each martyr's tombstone on Warrior Soul Mountain, kowtowing to them one by one, imagining ways he could start anew.
Later, the heavens showed him mercy. The Time Mirror somehow allowed him to recover those memories from before he defected. Even if they were painful, at least—at least he could know he was a spy, an undercover agent, the knife Chonghua had sent into the belly of the Liao Kingdom. He wasn't a traitor…
Tears spilled from Gu Mang's eyes. He was allowed so little; he only wanted to remember who he was. They had to take even this away?!
His mouth had been gagged; he couldn't speak, but the blue eyes he turned on Zhou He were almost beseeching. This was the first and only time Gu Mang had looked at him this way since the trials began. Like a cub that had been driven to a dead end regarding the hunter in front of it with despair.
Gu Mang's resistance was rewarded with Lieying's chains puncturing his mind even more frenetically. Gu Mang howled, a heartstopping, lung-splitting sound. The tendons in his neck stood in stark relief, his nails gouged deep in his palms. He was gagged by the bandages, but still wailed a hopeless, unintelligible plea: "Don't…"
Please, no more… Don't take my mind. Don't take my memories. I've had them for so little time…
I haven't yet had the chance to take a look at the Northern Frontier Army, to see what those youths who marched beside me look like now. I haven't had the chance to walk through the streets and alleys of Chonghua, to see if my country is a little better than before. I haven't yet gone to the shores of the Soul-Calling Abyss, to offer a jug of wine and light a stick of incense under that old pagoda tree where Dage's head is buried.
I haven't yet made proper arrangements for my silly princess's future… I don't want to forget.
I don't!
The holy weapon in Zhou He's hand emitted a buzzing cry. Lieying burst with a despairing and enraged light, unable to strike the killing blow. With a boom, the spiritual energy chains retracted from Gu Mang's skull, solidifying into a bloodstained dagger once more. Zhou He took a stunned step backward, staring at the holy weapon in his hand, then at Gu Mang, his face ashen.
How could this be…? Why was this person…
Before he could finish the thought, Gu Mang went limp, scarlet spurting from the wounds in the side of his head. All the vitality flowing through his organs seemed to have been spent in that split second. He curled in on himself, spasming uncontrollably, blood streaming from his mouth and nose. The gauze between his teeth was completely soaked through.
Zhou He heard a commotion outside the Asura Room—the Sishu Terrace disciples outside seemed to be arguing with someone. He stood frozen, unable to react, until someone flung open the stone doors with a bang—
A man in a state not unlike Gu Mang's stood outside the Asura Room. Disciples timidly clustered around him, trying to stop him without daring to make a move.
Zhou He couldn't believe his eyes. "Xihe-jun…?"