Chapter 59#

Su Ruhui’s Selfishness#

The hall was silent, the vibrant makeup unable to hide the thugs’ astonishment. Only Sang Chiyu’s expression remained as calm as ever. Chi Gui, disbelieving, said, “Where did this mad lad come from! Hearing some secret between me and Old Lu, he dares to spout nonsense here!”

Lu Xiazi was even more furious, “You audacious brat, who doesn’t know that Young Master and Sang Chiyu are lifelong enemies? You impersonate the Young Master, using his name to call Sang Chiyu your lover boy. Even if I don’t send you to the North Star Hall to self-detonate today, I, old blind man, will not let you live!”

[High-level alert, detecting killing intent. Host, please guard against assassination attempts. It is recommended that the host maintain a distance of no more than five steps from Sang Chiyu. For a weakling without secret arts, clinging to a strong person is the best way to save your life.]

Assassination attempt? Is someone trying to assassinate him? Su Ruhui was a little surprised. He knew Old Lu’s skills; he wasn’t unable to fight him. The system’s alert level was determined by the opponent’s strength. For these people from the Pleasure Quarter, a high-level alert seemed a bit too high to Su Ruhui.

Han Ye’s eyes became extremely complex, staring at Su Ruhui without blinking. There was a murmur of private conversations below, and it looked like the thugs on Lu Xiazi’s side were about to draw their fire guns and blast this impostor to death on the spot. Su Ruhui, however, remained calm, unhurriedly walking to the star array under the dome. He reached into his satchel, pretending to feel around, but actually retrieved several spirit stones from the system.

He squatted down and placed the spirit stones into the energy storage grooves on the floor. As the spirit stones settled, a faint green light immediately spread along the star lines on the floor towards the dome, as if babbling brooks were rushing through those grooves, soon filling the star array in the dome. However, the star array was only half-lit, most of it remaining dark.

Someone said, “What are you doing? This central star array has long been废 (废 - broken/废弃 - abandoned), the star lines are chaotic, no one can fix it.”

Several thugs stepped forward to stop Su Ruhui, but Sang Chiyu drew his sword, holding it horizontally in front of them.

“The star array laid by Su Ruhui,” Sang Chiyu said expressionlessly, “naturally, only Su Ruhui has a way, isn’t that right?”

The thugs froze in place.

Su Ruhui took out a monocle from his satchel, placed it on the bridge of his nose, and a complex, spiderweb-like network of star lines appeared in the void, chaotic and intricate, looking like a tangled mess at first glance. He adjusted the monocle, magnifying the view, and the overlapping star lines separated, becoming clearer and clearer. Su Ruhui was a little speechless; after he left, someone must have tampered with this central star array. The star lines of an array affect everything; these people, half-understanding, blindly connected them, disrupting the original orderly star lines. No wonder the central star array had become a useless废阵 (废阵 - ruined array).

He had once opened a star array academy in Black Street, teaching from literacy upwards, from simple to difficult, slowly instilling the principles of star charts, hoping someone would inherit his mantle. He had been in Black Street for seven years, and the academy had been open for seven years. He had originally thought it should have been very effective, that at least someone could lay a simple star array. Unfortunately, it now seemed that no one had taken his lessons to heart at all.

Su Ruhui began to manipulate the star lines, his fingers flying with extreme speed. The faint green light illuminated his fair face, and everyone saw his focused, clear eyes and calm, gentle profile. Lu Xiazi held his breath; he seemed to genuinely see the spirited figure of the past in this young man named Ah Qi. He would never forget the way that person manipulated the star lines, confident, as if all the infinite changes of the mundane world were in his grasp.

Before half an incense stick had passed, all the star lines were properly adjusted. The moment the last star line fell into place, everyone saw the giant central star array on the dome come alive, re-emitting its vibrant light. The radiance fell, landing on the shoulders of the young man standing in the center of the star lines, as if countless stars were playfully dancing in the corners of his eyes and brows.

Everyone watched this scene, dumbfounded.

Su Ruhui turned around and looked at the crowd in front of him.

Lu Xiazi’s old eyes welled up with tears, saying, “Young Master, we thought you were gone!” He knelt down with a thud, “It was this old servant who offended you just now…”

Su Ruhui quickly helped him up, “Old Lu, please don’t. You’re so old, I can’t bear for you to kneel to me.”

Many people, with tears in their eyes, wanted to come forward and reminisce. The hall was buzzing with noise, like a pot boiling over. Many people passed by Han Ye, appearing hazy like phantoms. Han Ye suddenly felt himself shrink, becoming very small, like a flattened paper doll, stuck under Su Ruhui’s feet. No wonder he always thought Ah Qi resembled Su Ruhui, the tone of his voice, the bright smile in his eyes, exactly the same as in the past. It turned out that Ah Qi was Su Ruhui all along. This guy watched him make a fool of himself with cold eyes, and he could imagine how Su Ruhui must be laughing at him in his heart.

Amidst the boiling voices, Han Ye quietly asked, “Sang Chiyu, you knew he was Su Ruhui all along?”

Sang Chiyu did not answer, but Han Ye already knew the answer.

Han Ye then found this guy ridiculous; he clearly liked Su Ruhui, and Su Ruhui liked him too, yet they stubbornly refused to say it. Perhaps once entangled in something like love, everyone becomes foolish, becoming a joke. Han Ye tasted the bitterness in his heart, almost shedding tears. He held back, he absolutely could not be ridiculed by Su Ruhui again.

Su Ruhui saw his reaction but said nothing. Han Ye was too young, his love and hate both intense. Su Ruhui could not reciprocate his love, so it was better to let him hate.

A deep shadow seemed to envelop Han Ye, and his fair face still held a gloomy cast. He clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, and asked, “Su Ruhui, are you playing with me?” He looked up, asking word by word, “Are you playing with us? If you despise me, play with me, kill me, do as you please. Su Ruhui, since you are still alive, why didn’t you come back?”

“What?” Su Ruhui was stunned.

“Do you know how many people died in the Snow Realm? Do you know how many people were devoured by monsters?” Han Ye’s eyes were bloodshot. “You knew there were monsters in the Snow Realm. That message, whose origin is unknown, was sent by you, right? You knew they were coming, why did you ignore it?”

He looked down at his hands, clenching them tightly into fists, the wound on his wrist throbbing faintly. He once again remembered what A-Pan said before he died:

—“If only Boss Su were here, he has mechanical beasts and puppets, and he knows the Feng Hou Star Array. He could definitely lead everyone home.”

—“Brother Ye, I want to go home.”

He said bitterly, “Su Ruhui, you clearly know I’m not as good as you. I can’t come up with a good plan, I can’t protect everyone. Even if I lead everyone to escape, we can’t escape the monsters’ hunt. Look, as long as you come back, everyone will return to your side. You are the hope of all, the heart’s desire of the masses. Even you yourself know that as soon as you reveal your identity, I will surely be utterly defeated. It was I who betrayed you, it was I who handed you over. You hate me, just kill me then. So many people are waiting for you, A-Pan waited for you until his death,” he raised his eyes, filled with sorrow, and asked again, “Su Ruhui, why didn’t you come back?”

Su Ruhui was stumped by the question.

Yes, why didn’t he return to Black Street? Why didn’t he return to the Pleasure Quarter?

He had died once, confined in the Immortal’s Cave for two years, his strength exhausted by illness. Day after day, he researched puppets, seeking the profound meaning of the super-grade flesh puppet, and narrowly found a glimmer of hope for survival. Living again, compared to repeating the same old tricks and intrigues, he wanted to walk a different path.

So, he decided not to meddle with the Secret Sect’s internal traitor; his senior sister would handle it independently. And he didn’t want to get involved with the Snow Realm monsters; sending a message to Han Ye was the only effort he made.

He had selfish motives.

But could he tell them these words? Su Ruhui looked around, seeing their expectant yet puzzled eyes.

“Yes…” someone stammered, “Boss Su, are you not going to care about us anymore?”

“I…” Su Ruhui moved his lips, but nothing came out.

Just then, a hand rested on his shoulder. He turned his head and looked down, seeing fingertips as white as jade, feeling the gentle warmth of the person.

“It’s not Su Ruhui who abandoned you, it’s you who abandoned yourselves.” Sang Chiyu’s eyes were stern, his words cold, “Su Ruhui left the Feng Hou Star Array, but you let the array fall into disrepair and showed no ambition. Su Ruhui left puppets, but you used puppets as prostitutes, indulging in pleasure. Su Ruhui is no longer the master of the Pleasure Quarter; he has no obligation to be responsible for you, nor does he need to bear your lives and deaths. Su Ruhui does not belong to the Secret Sect, does not belong to Black Street, and even less to the Pleasure Quarter; he belongs to himself.”