Chapter 91#

I Need a Little Kitty#

Sang Chiyu awoke from a long dream. A massive influx of memories flooded his mind, leaving him with a splitting headache. His memories felt like a glob of paste, and his perception underwent a cataclysmic shift. He struggled to lift his head, looking toward Su Guanyu on the high platform; cold, shivering sweat ran through his eyelashes. The King of Luofu still had a giant vortex where his face should have been. Having exhausted too much spiritual energy on Su Guanyu, he was trembling like chaff in the wind.

Su Guanyu sighed: “So that is the real world. As you can see, the iron-armored puppets are the machinery of your world; the super-grade flesh puppets are bionic prosthetics; the Kunlun Secret Sect is a confederation of arcane clans; the Black Street is a legion of displaced refugees. You and I are both victims of Hui’er’s games. I am a replica of his father, keeping him company in a game of house, while you are a pet dragged into this Jiezi world to keep him company so he wouldn’t feel so lonely in this artificial world.” Su Guanyu pulled up Sang Chiyu’s background data, cyan fluorescence rolling in his eyes—it was the data stream being injected into his mind. “In the Super-Meta Domain, you were an anomaly, a lone wanderer. Because you never belonged to the Super-Meta Domain in the first place. Your deepest inner self told you that all of this was an illusion.”

Sang Chiyu looked down at his own hands. The world was so real that he had been kept in the dark for so many years. So this was the truth: he didn’t feel out of place in this world because he was a half-demon who had wandered into the human realm by mistake, but because he was an outsider forcefully dragged into the Super-Meta Domain. Su Ruohui was the Creator, living his life with ease, while Sang Chiyu had always been plagued by emptiness and loneliness, drifting alone. Su Ruohui had authored the beginning of his fate, leaving him parentless, only to appear in his life later to save him and become his only friend and lover.

Everything was just a design; everything was just a lie.

They were so real because Su Ruohui, the architect of it all, had erased his own memories and immersed himself in the roles he played.

How treacherous. Sang Chiyu’s heart ached like it was being sliced by knives; a surge of qi rose in his chest, and the taste of blood flooded his throat. He spat out a mouthful of blood.

“Slowly,” Su Guanyu placated him, “no rush.”

Sang Chiyu wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, braced his knees, and stood up. “What do you want?”

“What I want is simple. The passage to return to reality is at the Snow Realm’s Zenith, which I call the ‘Heavenly Gate.’ As long as I obtain Hui’er’s authorization, we can open the gate and leave this illusory world.” Su Guanyu smiled. “You and I share common interests; we can cooperate and help each other. The snowflakes protect Hui’er; I cannot cross them. I need you to help me enter Hui’er’s consciousness so that I may become his system. Once that is done, I will find a way to assimilate him and gain his authorization.”

“So that is your goal in seducing him,” Sang Chiyu whispered.

Su Guanyu smiled, a look of sorrow appearing in his glistening eyes. He said, “Indeed. I had intended to use the Demon race to attack the Black Street to lure him into accepting me, but that child is far too vigilant.” Su Guanyu looked at him. “Well? Are you willing to cooperate with me?”

Sang Chiyu’s expression was quiet, and he replied succinctly: “I refuse.”

Su Guanyu was clearly taken aback, drawling, “Do you still love him? Even after knowing that all of this is fake? Child, let me remind you once more: this world is fake, the people here are fake, and every emotion you have experienced is fake.”

Sang Chiyu touched his own heart. The pain was so real—was this world truly fake? Su Guanyu was exerting all his might to break through all of this to reach the so-called reality, but if conscious awareness could be turned into illusory code, and illusory code could be downloaded into a prosthetic body to manifest in reality, then where was the boundary between illusion and reality?

The Super-Meta Domain had its own time, its own creatures, its own rules. The vast masses of the Super-Meta Domain felt pain, joy, and anger. During the defense of the Black Street, Sang Chiyu had felt their fear and their sorrow. All Su Ruohui could determine was their initial status, background, and class, but Su Ruohui could not determine what they said today or what they did tomorrow. Su Ruohui could not control their choices, much less dictate their lives. Su Ruohui had lowered the initial favorability of all characters toward Sang Chiyu, yet now, Han Ye no longer harbored animosity toward him.

They were indeed Su Ruohui’s creations, but that did not mean they lacked a self.

“Su Guanyu,” Sang Chiyu gasped, “you come from this world, yet you do not understand it.”

Su Guanyu’s smile slowly turned icy. “Understand? Understand what? Understand the identity Su Ruohui imposed on me, the name he gave me? Sang Chiyu, look at the world before you. Snow falls in abundance; the endless ice and snow turn the world into a tiny prison. Humans and demons fight to the death—how ridiculous. These foolish creatures don’t know they are fish in a tank kept by Su Ruohui, colorful and pleasing to the eye, spending their whole lives swimming between water weeds, killing each other for a pathetic scrap of fish food. And yet I am expected to love him, to love his so-called mother, and to satisfy his ideal of a perfect life.”

“Is that so?” Sang Chiyu asked. “Do you no longer love Tantai Xun?”

For once, Su Guanyu faltered, though only for an instant. He brushed his sleeves and tucked his hands inside. “I do not love her anymore. To us AIs, so-called emotions are nothing more than data and code. Back then, I discarded form and knowledge, hid outside the system, and incidentally deleted my emotional code. What is the use of keeping fake feelings? It only adds to the sorrow, don’t you think?”

Sang Chiyu lowered his eyes and touched the transparent collar around his neck. No one could see it, but he could feel its existence.

He remembered the movie Su Ruohui had told him about in that park outside—a worker on an assembly line who manufactures robots, who, after having fake memories implanted, becomes a deadly secret agent who saves the garbage world that oppressed and exploited him and marries a beautiful, slender, and lethal wife. Su Ruohui asked if he had seen the movie; he hadn’t answered at the time. In fact, he had. The instructor who taught him ancient martial arts was obsessed with the art and culture of the old era, and he had learned much about those ancient things following that nostalgic instructor. Su Ruohui’s introduction was incomplete; the worker never truly understood whether his experiences were illusory or real by the end of the story, but he chose to believe.

Truth or falsehood didn’t matter; it was enough that it was beautiful. Now he finally understood why Su Ruohui kept that three-breasted prostitute in the park and why he blocked his own memories from entering the No. 21 Super-Meta Domain. Su Ruohui saw himself as that robot-manufacturing worker. He built park after park, experimenting and calculating his father’s thoughts over and over again. He wanted a perfect life with a happy family, even if everything was fake—even if it was implanted, even if it was something he had built with his own hands.

Unfortunately, it was all like a dream or a bubble. Even in the No. 21 Super-Meta Domain where everything started anew, even in the identity he had arranged for himself, he would still be hated by his junior sister, have his throat slit by his senior sister, and be abandoned by his father. Perhaps his mother loved him, but she died in the sky full of snow before she could ever express it. No matter where, in reality or the Super-Meta Domain, Su Ruohui’s life was destined for complete ruin.

Sang Chiyu closed his eyes and couldn’t help but think: Su Ruohui, why is your life always such a mess?

“Oh, right,” Su Guanyu chuckled softly. “I forgot to tell you—the King of Luofu has decided to transform you into a complete demon. Do you know how? The Demon Elder Council has an elder called ‘Hu.’ His secret art is ‘Molding.’ They will slice open your abdomen and scrape away your human bones. They will also exchange your blood, injecting pure demon blood into your veins. Under the effect of ‘Molding,’ your bones and blood will regrow; your human bones and blood will be replaced and transformed into pure demon bone and demon blood. Just hearing about it is painful, isn’t it? The world is fake, but the pain is real. Child, let me help you.”

“Not necessary,” Sang Chiyu coldly refused.

Su Guanyu shook his head. “Is fake love really that important to you? Have you forgotten that you didn’t enter this world willingly? That child Hui’er is merely treating you like a pet for his amusement.”

Sang Chiyu’s heart gave a sharp, painful pang.

Su Ruohui is truly excessive, Sang Chiyu thought quietly. I am not a pet; I am a predator. He had participated in many, many campaigns, killed many demons, and many humans as well. When the blood of his enemies entered his veins, he gained their secret arts. That was the source of his arts, and his invisible badge of honor.

Su Ruohui had deceived him, making him put this shameful collar on himself with his own hands.

Sang Chiyu frowned in pain. “No. I will never be anyone’s pet.”

“Exactly. You are enemies. In your world, he is a dangerous target you must eliminate. Setting aside whether this world is fake or not, I only ask: you want to leave here and return to your reality, don’t you?”

Sang Chiyu lowered his eyes. Yes, he did.

He had parents, he had kin; he was the son of the Sang clan of the arcane lineage. Even though he had rarely returned home for years to avoid family politics, he was not supposed to drown in this world.

Seeing that Sang Chiyu was wavering, Su Guanyu continued his persuasion, “Let me help you.”

But Sang Chiyu said, “There is no need for you to interfere in the grievances between him and me.”

Su Guanyu’s smile receded like the tide; once this beautiful man lost his smile, he became somewhat gloomy.

“Listen well,” Sang Chiyu said coldly. “Matters between him and me, we will resolve ourselves.”

Su Guanyu smiled indifferently and vanished from beside the King of Luofu. The King of Luofu’s golden vertical eyes returned to normal. The fellow didn’t seem to know what had just happened; he only felt that his spiritual energy was exhausted and his body was weak. He didn’t think much of it, simply assuming it was because Sang Chiyu’s secret arts were too powerful, making his brain harder to invade than others’.

The mind-reading secret art ran silently, and Sang Chiyu read the heart of the King of Luofu.

“Child, who is Gu?” the King of Luofu asked kindly.

Sang Chiyu slowly raised his head, his expression rigid and cold.

“Father,” he said word for word, “you are my father.”

Gancao Plateau, Black Street.

Su Ruohui knelt under the eaves. The hanging icicles were melting, and water droplets fell with a dripping sound like crystal jade beads. The thirteen wards of the Black Street’s inner city had completely relocated to this hidden site, and the Snow Realm’s Firmament Star Array had been activated. In the past few days, many Black Street disciples had been heading to the Snow Realm mines to excavate spiritual stones. Even if it was dangerous, there was no other choice; everyone knew this was their only path to survival.

News arrived from the scouts in Bian Capital that the demon army had assembled and marched south, reaching Xuzhou, the closest city to the capital, yesterday. Within two hours, Xuzhou had fallen, and the entire Xu family was executed outside the city gates. However, this time the demons did not massacre the city. The scouts said the leader of the army was Bai Ruoye. The demon race’s combat power was too great; if it weren’t for the fact that Zhulu Forest was too far from the capital, and the demons had only sent a few thousand cavalry to attack, the Black Street would not have lasted three hours. Su Ruohui sighed, writing a letter and sending it by carrier pigeon to Lizhou, informing them that only Zike could kill the demons, and requesting that Lizhou relay the message to other prefectures and counties.

As for Sang Chiyu, the scouts still hadn’t received any news about him.

Han Ye knocked on the fir-wood door, looking at Su Ruohui’s lonely back. Daylight draped over his plain-colored deep robe; he looked as if he were about to melt into the light. Han Ye felt, for no reason, that he was different. He used to be carefree and bright, but now there was a kind of helpless sorrow in his smile.

Han Ye had always thought Su Ruohui was a person with a big heart, letting everything pass through it like sand through a funnel, leaving no attachments behind. Now he knew he was wrong, because the sorrow on Su Ruohui was so heavy that he found it hard to breathe just standing beside him.

“Where is Shentu?” Su Ruohui asked.

The man turned back to look at him, still wearing an air of breezy nonchalance. Han Ye almost thought the sadness from a moment ago was an illusion.

“Still asleep,” Han Ye said. “As you said, keep him sound asleep so the King of Luofu can’t use him as an eye. The highest-level healing arcane practitioner in the Black Street is only at the Dongxuan Realm; we can’t remove the effects of the Lingxin Tian-Tong secret art on him. You need to find someone at the Guanhuo Realm to heal him. If you ask me, you might as well kill him. What’s the point of keeping him? If you kill him, you can at least roast him for meat.”

“Guanhuo Realm…” Su Ruohui rubbed his chin in thought.

Han Ye knew this fellow was soft-hearted and sighed helplessly. “Healing arts are extremely difficult to practice; those at the Guanhuo Realm are few and far between. Even if you find one, they may not be willing to help you.”

Su Ruohui pondered for a moment and said, “My junior sister seems to be a Guanhuo Realm practitioner, but unfortunately, we have been estranged for many years.”

“You’re really something,” Han Ye muttered. “Your uncle imprisoned you, your senior sister slit your throat, and your junior sister estranged you. What kind of star-crossed fate is this?”

Su Ruohui was actually able to laugh. “I’d like to know that, too.”

“What are you planning to do next?” Han Ye asked.

Su Ruohui said, “I’m going to Youzhou.”

“Youzhou? To find your junior sister?”

“Bian Capital is currently occupied by demons. If I go in rashly, I fear I won’t make it a few steps before I’m torn apart and eaten by monsters. Youzhou is a decent route. Youzhou has pledged allegiance to the demon race, so perhaps I can find a way to enter Bian Capital from there.” Su Ruohui added, “And save my junior sister while I’m at it.”

“Huh? Didn’t she estrange you? Why are you saving her now?”

Su Ruohui sighed, tucking his hands into his sleeves. “‘A gentleman has no consistency, changing his virtues like the wind.’ Her husband is the worst of the worst; it’s been five years, I’m afraid he’s already shown his true colors. If I went to find her before, she certainly wouldn’t have bothered with me. But going to find her now is just right.”

Han Ye turned and left. A stick of incense later, he returned with ten monks and ten thugs. These people were tall and short, some bald and some hairy, but all of them were crooked and unpleasing to the eye.

Han Ye said, “Your husband left words when he went away, saying I shouldn’t let anyone get fresh with you. I’m helping you keep your ‘male virtue.’ Also, I’m going with you.” As he spoke, he took out a black cloth and covered his face.

“We’ll head to the Jile Workshop stronghold in Youzhou first; no need to cover your face for now,” Su Ruohui said.

Han Ye replied, “I’m covering my face because I’m afraid you won’t be able to stand the loneliness and will fall in love with me.”

Su Ruohui: “…”

This kid’s narcissistic habit was beyond fixing.

The thugs and monks cupped their hands and said in unison: “We are willing to die for Boss Su!”

They set off an hour later, everyone going to prepare flintlocks, ammunition, and wigs.

Su Ruohui packed his bags and sat down on the blue stone steps, taking out a carving knife and a block of wood to carve a wood sculpture one stroke at a time.

The Rebirth program had been aborted; he remembered everything before entering the Super-Meta Domain.

If Sang Chiyu knew the truth about the world, would he still love him?

Su Ruohui laughed in self-mockery; wood shavings fell like snowflakes onto his fingers.

Ordinary people think that kittens need human feeding to survive. They are all wrong. Humans feed cats because humans need cats, not because cats need humans. He needed a little kitty; he wanted to cook fish meals for it, brush its fur, and take it for walks. He needed its soft, big tail, its twitchy furry ears, and its fierce little hisses. If it were willing to stay in his Super-Meta Domain, even if it tore the house apart again and turned the entire Great Jing into a junkyard, he wouldn’t even furrow his brow.

But he knew that cats loved to gaze at the sky as birds flew past, separated by thick glass. It was a predator; it was destined to go to the world outside.

The wood carving took shape bit by bit, becoming the image of little Sang.

Su Ruohui stared blankly at the wood carving, his smile bitter.

Mr. Kitty, I can’t bear to let you go.