Chapter 65#

He Missed Him#

Black Street, Elysium Pavilion.

Sang Chiyu, disguised as Blind Lu, entered the main hall of the Elysium Pavilion without looking left or right. The place where the fight had occurred earlier that evening was a mess. Thugs were cleaning up shattered tables and chairs, and repairing broken railings. From time to time, thugs saluted him. He nodded slightly in acknowledgment and turned into the winding and complex inner corridor. The map Su Ruhui gave him marked checkpoints, which required secret codes. Sang Chiyu, of course, didn’t know the codes, but he possessed the Shadow Shift secret art, allowing him to bypass the checkpoints directly.

The internal architecture of the Elysium Pavilion was incredibly complex, with countless layers both above and below ground. The Elysium Pavilion’s jurisdiction extended beyond just this one brothel; most of Black Street’s gambling houses, tea houses, and taverns—any place of debauchery—belonged to the Elysium Pavilion. The Elysium Pavilion also had several giant workshops that manufactured spirit firearms and puppets. Every year, countless flesh puppets were manufactured there and sent to various brothels, and countless scrapped flesh puppets were sent back to the workshops for recycling, repair, or destruction. Currently, the main hall had three layers of ice cellars underground, specifically for storing flesh puppets sent from the workshops that had not yet been activated with spirit stones.

The corridors underfoot crisscrossed, twisting and turning. Some corridors were located outside on higher floors. Looking down from these corridors, one could see Black Street’s narrow, canyon-like streets. With a slight reach, it seemed possible to touch the wooden railings of the opposite houses. Sang Chiyu followed the map, going deeper and deeper.

Most of the thugs outside were young ruffians, their faces mostly painted with greasepaint, either sitting in the corridors smoking or fooling around with puppet prostitutes. The further in he went, the fewer thugs he saw. Even when he did see people, it was clear they were not good sorts. Gradually, the moonlight from outside disappeared. The dark corridors were illuminated only by oil lamps, and he entered the most secret area of the Elysium Pavilion. The wooden floorboards creaked under his feet as he walked forward, brushing past a thug from the Elysium Pavilion. A strong, pungent smell filled his nostrils, and he frowned.

The thug was probably quite high-ranking, as he didn’t even greet Blind Lu and simply walked past. This suited Sang Chiyu perfectly, as he didn’t want to speak. He reached his destination—the inner hall where Su Ruhui originally resided. Su Ruhui had said that, given Han Ye’s personality, his original belongings would be kept exactly as they were, and even the Bagua lock to the inner hall would be the same as before. Su Ruhui’s guess was correct. Sang Chiyu smoothly twisted open the Bagua lock and pushed open the cypress wood door of the inner hall. He took an oil lamp from the corner to illuminate the room and stepped inside.

The air was thick with the smell of dust. It seemed no one had been there for a long time, and the floor was covered in dust. The lamplight streamed into the inner room, instantly brightening it. Sang Chiyu saw star charts everywhere, on the walls and on the floor. Books and astrolabes were piled haphazardly on the floor, a complete mess, as if someone had ransacked the place. Sang Chiyu knew that this was their original state; Su Ruhui was simply too untidy.

The floor was piled high with wooden carvings. Sang Chiyu remembered Han Ye saying that Su Ruhui liked to carve wood and had accumulated a room full of them. The wooden carvings were stacked like mountains, shrouded in gloom, as melancholic as countless silkworm cocoons. Sang Chiyu had to push aside the carvings to find a place to step. He found the tin box Su Ruhui had mentioned, which was pressed under layers of marble astrolabes, with only a corner exposed. Sang Chiyu pushed aside the astrolabes, pulled out the tin box, and rotated the Bagua lock. The mechanism clicked, gears meshed one after another, the lock opened, and the lid sprang open with a snap.

Inside were many stacked letters, all with “Secret” written in vermilion ink on the envelopes. These were the Elysium Pavilion Master’s top-secret files, which no one could read except Su Ruhui himself, who knew how to open the Bagua lock. Sang Chiyu opened the letters and read them one by one.

“It has been a long time since we last met, and I miss you dearly. Now your name is famous throughout the world, first as the top scholar of the Star Gazing Department, and second as a murderer of the Secret Sect. I don’t know whether to be happy for you or worried. Misfortune is often followed by fortune. The Elysium Pavilion appreciates your great talent in star arrays and has brought you into Black Street. I am very relieved that you are safe and sound. I have, as you instructed, set fire to the Gao family’s storeroom, burning all copies of the genealogy. The turmoil in Biandu has not yet subsided, and the Gao family daily beats the drum of grievances, crying out for justice. I placed my undergarments in the Gao family mansion, intending to falsely accuse the Gao brothers of stealing my clothes, to exonerate you for killing them in the street. However, the Grand Master is hard-hearted and refuses to pardon your crime. This matter is difficult to reverse, but I will plan slowly over time. Jiang Xueya.”

“I have noted the matter you mentioned in your letter. You are enraged and blinded by it. In my opinion, this matter is very strange and should be deliberated at length. The entire Sang clan died in the Battle of Bukuan, and their genealogy was scattered, with no one possessing the original. You said the Gao brothers found the original genealogy in the Sang family ancestral tomb and learned that Sang Chiyu is not a Sang family son. Do you know that my secret envoy’s servants visited the Sang family ancestral tomb at night, and the earth was firm and the bricks thick, with no signs of desecration. What the Gao brothers said is false, and there must be hidden motives. How did the Gao family obtain the original Sang family genealogy? Why did the Gao family conspire to harm Sang Chiyu, and you just happened to overhear it? You are young and impulsive, falling into others’ traps, and your future is ruined, which is regrettable. Black Street is a dangerous and treacherous place; do not repeat past mistakes. Be careful and remember this. Jiang Xueya.”

“I have interrogated Yan Jinyu, and he is not the mastermind; this case has nothing to do with him. After months of investigation, all clues have been exhausted. The person behind this has far-reaching influence; wherever I go, their informants are always one step ahead of me, having made arrangements. You are in Black Street, and I am powerless to help you. You must be extremely careful in your actions. Jiang Xueya.”

Sang Chiyu flipped through these letters, and the bloody incident from fifteen years ago reappeared before his eyes. The entire story unfolded before him in Jiang Xueya’s words. He touched the handwriting; with the passage of years, some of the ink had slightly blurred. He read them one by one, finally understanding the source of the regret and sadness he had read in Su Ruhui’s heart.

So that’s how it was. Su Ruhui killed for him, and wandered for him.

Sang Chiyu closed his eyes, his heart filled with endless bitterness.

Why didn’t that guy tell him? He was neither fragile nor timid; why did he need to be a protected object kept in the dark? What Sang family son, what Secret Sect military official—Su Ruhui simply didn’t understand that these identities meant nothing to him. His life was like a lone boat sailing on the sea; the people who came and went were like shadows on the water, seemingly close but ethereal. He often felt unreal, an uncontrollable sense of illusion and loneliness. He was in this vast world, yet often felt he wasn’t truly there.

He didn’t care about the status of a noble family, nor did he care about supreme power. He obeyed the Grand Master’s orders simply because, in this vast ocean, he was aimless, couldn’t find direction, and couldn’t find anything meaningful to accomplish. Why did Su Ruhui need to abandon his future, his friends, and his family for the sake of a “Sang family son” identity, rushing into the torrential rain, never to return until death?

Footsteps sounded from outside the corridor. Sang Chiyu did not leave, allowing the footsteps to approach and stop at the cypress wood door.

“Su Ruhui sent you?” Han Ye asked.

Sang Chiyu turned to look at him. He leaned against the shadows with his arms crossed, bare-chested, with thick bandages wrapped around his waist. Perhaps due to excessive blood loss earlier, his face was slightly pale, and his deep features had an inexplicable gloom due to the darkness.

“Blind Lu came back and started talking about fiancées and lovers, and I knew Su Ruhui would definitely send you here.” Han Ye leaned against the door and looked at him, “When did you two meet?”

Sang Chiyu looked at him in silence, then after a long while, replied, “Ten years old.”

“So early, no wonder.” Han Ye walked in, “Last time I went to Shun Kang Fang to find Su Ruhui, he inexplicably said that the person who betrayed the Black Street secret passage might have been himself. At first, I didn’t believe it, but then I remembered these messy wooden carvings and changed my mind. These wooden carvings Su Ruhui carved while sick all have no faces, but I remember seeing a statue when I first started working for him. That statue had a face.”

Han Ye took something from his bosom and threw it to Sang Chiyu.

Sang Chiyu raised his hand to catch it, and a small, dark sandalwood statue was exposed to the light. This statue was far less refined than the other wooden carvings, the wood was rough, the carving slightly immature, and the texture not delicate. But it had a face that the other wooden carvings lacked. Sang Chiyu stared blankly at the small wooden carving, its indifferent brows and eyes just like his own.

“I guessed right,” Han Ye smiled blandly, “It was you.”

Sang Chiyu gently caressed the statue’s face, a bitter taste welling up in his heart, pouring into his throat, dry and melancholic. Su Ruhui hadn’t lied; illness had taken his life, and with little time left, he wanted to fulfill his unfulfilled wish. And his last wish was to return to Sang Chiyu’s side.

Sang Chiyu looked up, surrounded by mountains of faceless wooden carvings, each a silent yearning from that guy.

He missed him.

Sang Chiyu held the small statue, and a tear fell from his eye, dripping into the statue’s eye. At this moment, it seemed that this cold, clear wooden carving of Sang Chiyu was also silently shedding tears.

“Thank you,” Sang Chiyu whispered.

“Don’t thank me. If I could beat you, you wouldn’t be able to leave the Elysium Pavilion.” Han Ye looked through the wooden carvings, “Actually, I should have known who these wooden carvings were a long time ago. Su Goudan looks so much like you. Su Goudan was the first first-grade flesh puppet Su Ruhui made, kept in the Elysium Pavilion as a steward, washing Su Ruhui’s socks every day. The things that idiot makes always have your shadow. Have you seen Su Goudan?”

“I have,” Sang Chiyu said.

“Then it seems you’re even more idiotic.” Han Ye mocked him, “Don’t take what Blind Lu says seriously; it’s all nonsense and rubbish. He specializes in killing and doesn’t care about business. In the early days, Black Street was full of child prostitutes, a place where murderers, thieves, and scoundrels gathered. What good could happen there? Countless men and women died in bed every year. When I was a child, I worked for a while dragging corpses, and most of the bodies dragged out of brothels were horrific to behold.

Later, Su Ruhui came and created first-grade flesh puppets. All the flesh trade under the Elysium Pavilion was replaced by flesh puppets. At first, people didn’t buy into it, but then Su Ruhui improved the skin quality of the flesh puppets. The Elysium Pavilion’s flesh puppets became more and more beautiful, and their prices were cheaper than real people. Puppet prostitutes became increasingly popular. Later, Su Ruhui created beast-human flesh puppets, hermaphrodite flesh puppets, double-rooted flesh puppets… Honestly, Su Ruhui is the most vulgar person I’ve ever met. I really don’t know how he comes up with these strange flesh puppets. The people of Black Street are even more vulgar than him. Su Ruhui’s flesh puppets became popular in Black Street, the stranger, the more popular.

Now there are no child prostitutes in Black Street. The former prostitutes became workshop workers, and those who remained in the brothels performed arts but didn’t sell their bodies, either becoming managers or playing music and singing. Giving gifts for the courtesan’s birthday is a custom of the Elysium Pavilion, showing the master’s preferential treatment towards them. Despite this, Su Ruhui was busy all day developing strange flesh puppets; how could he have time to send them gifts? Su Ruhui never handled their holiday gifts; what to send was my choice, and I was the one who sent them.”

Sang Chiyu had long witnessed Su Ruhui’s vulgarity. Sang Chiyu thought bitterly, how could there be such a person as Su Ruhui in the world? So vulgar, yet so unforgettable. If it were before, Sang Chiyu would certainly not want to know about these shameless and strange things. Just hearing the names was enough to make one embarrassed. But now he seemed to have gotten used to it; no matter what scandalous things Su Ruhui came up with, he could accept them.

Sang Chiyu looked at Han Ye, “Why are you telling me all this?”

“Do you remember, I told you that my mother was a prostitute?” Han Ye said calmly, “She died in bed, and I personally dragged her to the mass grave. I squatted on the street crying and met Su Ruhui. He gave me a wooden hairpin as a token, telling me to report to the Elysium Pavilion. He said that in a few years, there would be no more people dying tragically like my mother. I didn’t believe it then, but he really did it. I admired him then, looked up to him, and felt he was omnipotent. I never thought that omnipotent bastard would also have things he couldn’t accomplish. Facing death, he held his last breath, crawling back to the Secret Sect to see you. After finally getting a second chance at life, he ended up like this with you, it’s truly laughable.” Han Ye lowered his head and smiled, not knowing whether he was mocking Su Ruhui or himself. “Just consider me having nothing better to do, unable to stand others acting foolishly, and being meddlesome.”

Sang Chiyu was silent for a moment, then took out a map from his bosom and handed it to Han Ye.

“What is this?” Han Ye didn’t take it.

“A map of the Snow Realm mine,” Sang Chiyu said, “Su Ruhui will set up a protective star array at the mine marked on the map, which can serve as a refuge for the refugees.”

Han Ye slowly took the map and spread it out before him. A vermilion dot marked the safe location, so conspicuous, burning into Han Ye’s vision like a flame.

“What does giving this to me mean?” Han Ye said hoarsely, “Are you telling us to give up assassinating Tantai Jing?”

Sang Chiyu shook his head, “Even if you decide to assassinate, he will still set up this star array for you.”

Han Ye’s smile became even more bitter. He knew, of course, that Su Ruhui couldn’t abandon the thousands of lives in the Snow Realm. Even if Su Ruhui decided to protect the Secret Sect for the sake of humanity, and even if Black Street would eventually become an enemy of the Secret Sect, Su Ruhui would not let those wandering lives die.

At this moment, he remembered many things from the past. Su Ruhui outwardly was a dissolute rogue, but deep down he was still a noble son. He never made a sound when drinking tea or eating, his nails were meticulously clean, and if his boots got muddy while walking outside, he would sit at the doorstep and scrape off the mud before entering. He grew up on Mount Zhuluo, where the White-Clothed Immortal taught him star gazing and array formations, and the blood of the Lizhou Tantai flowed in his veins. His relatives were in the Secret Sect, and the person he loved was also in the Secret Sect. Black Street was a place of wandering for him; he was like a fallen leaf longing to return to its roots, missing his distant homeland.

At this moment, Han Ye understood that Su Ruhui would never return.

From beginning to end, they were not on the same path.

“Han Ye,” Sang Chiyu suddenly said, “Do you know why you are the master of the Elysium Pavilion?”

Han Ye remembered Blind Lu’s daily accusations of him betraying Su Ruhui to rise to power, and his eyes, like thorns, asked, “What do you want to say? Do you want to speak up for Su Ruhui?” His tone revealed impatience, “I am not as good as Su Ruhui; you don’t need to tell me, I know it in my heart.”

“You misunderstood,” Sang Chiyu said, “Old Lu is old and frail. Although Chigui is young and strong, I hear he mistreats his subordinates and disregards human lives. That day, when the demon race attacked the Great Wall of the Snow Realm, among all the people of Black Street, only you chose to protect your subordinates and the common people, fighting to the last moment without abandoning them.”

Han Ye was somewhat stunned, his throat felt choked, unable to speak.

“The Elysium Pavilion is Black Street’s Elysium Pavilion. Su Ruhui’s heart is not in Black Street. Even with his extraordinary talent, he is not the most suitable person to be the master of the pavilion.” Sang Chiyu’s voice was slow and clear, “Black Street can only be led by someone from Black Street. Han Ye, you are the most suitable person. I think Su Ruhui also thinks so.”

Han Ye lowered his eyes, the map tightly clutched in his hand. Sang Chiyu put away the wooden carving, preparing to leave, when Han Ye suddenly called out to him.

“Wait,” Han Ye said, “In return, I’ll tell you something. Su Ruhui said that the demon race intends to provoke conflict between the Secret Sect and Black Street. I think there might be a demon mole in the Secret Sect, and perhaps I can give you a clue.”

Sang Chiyu stopped, turning his head to look at him.

“He’s a very strange guy. He found me a month ago, saying he could provide me with information about the Secret Sect. His information is very reliable, mostly true. He once told me that Su Ruhui was summoned to the North Star Hall by Tantai Jing. I verified this with Su Ruhui, and it was indeed true. I suspect he’s a high-ranking official in the Secret Sect, his position definitely not low.” Han Ye gestured to describe him, “That person often wears a monkey mask when he meets me, and his speech is also very strange, his tone very peculiar, like he just learned how to speak.”

Sang Chiyu subtly activated the “Mind Reading” secret art, and saw the person’s appearance in Han Ye’s mind—a snow-white hemp robe, a comical monkey mask, and a green bamboo flute at his waist.

As Han Ye described him, he tried hard to recall, and the image Sang Chiyu saw became clearer and clearer, even sensing the sounds and smells from Han Ye’s memory. The last time they met, the person provided Han Ye with a map of the Secret Sect’s troop deployment and said he wouldn’t be coming to find Han Ye anymore because he was going to kill someone. He had a strong smell of shrimp wontons on him, which Sang Chiyu found very familiar.

Wait, Sang Chiyu suddenly remembered. He had met a thug in the inner corridor of the Elysium Pavilion whose scent was exactly the same as that person’s.

Not coming to find Han Ye, why would he appear in the Elysium Pavilion?

No, he came to the Elysium Pavilion following the person he intended to kill.

Demons, murder… With a flash of thought, in a split second, Sang Chiyu understood everything. His target was Su Ruhui!

Sang Chiyu’s heart trembled, his pupils almost shrinking to pinpricks. He quickly ran out of the corridor, flashing several times, returning to the Grand Compassion Hall at top speed. As he ran, he took out his communication compass from his waist pouch, his voice unconsciously trembling as he shouted sharply:

“Su Ruhui, someone wants to kill you! Leave where you are, immediately!”

Author’s note:

When Su Gou appeared, the system’s note was: [Su Gou, who harbors secrets, originally named Su Goudan, looks a bit like Sang Chiyu. It is said that the host referenced Sang Chiyu’s beauty when creating him. The system has reason to suspect the host’s ulterior motives.]