Chapter 1717: Disaster Beneath the Unseen Heavenly Ladder, The Immortal Palace Still Echoes with the Wounds of the Southern Court

“Someone!”

In the corner, Yuegong Hui, completely paralyzed, seemed to have adapted to the power of the Martial Arts Ban and the Cold Prison. He suddenly mustered a sliver of strength and roared:

“Yuegong Mo! Yuegong Leng! Yuegong Li! Yuegong Niu!”

“Someone, quickly, someone!”

His shouts were extremely loud, cutting into the back-and-forth rhythm of Dao Qiongcang and Yuegong Nu’s silent struggle, leaving no time for anyone to react. But as soon as he finished shouting, Yuegong Hui despairingly realized.

Dao Dai’er, sitting behind the ice table, looked over with a smiling face, showing no surprise in his eyes. His expression seemed to say: “Go on, keep shouting. Today, even if you scream yourself hoarse, no one will find you.”

“Can’t you hear me…?”

Yuegong Hui lowered his head blankly, left only with a bitter smile and a shake of his head. He understood, in truth. The Cold Prison was located at the bottom of the Cold Sea, almost in the most remote part of the Han Palace Imperial Realm, and no outsiders ever came there on normal days. Moreover, even if his shouts were accurate and he called out sacred names directly… if the rules of the Cold Prison didn't restrict prisoners from getting a response by directly calling sacred names, who could endure the endless greetings from the inmates confined within?

“You’re trying to get the attention of the Yin God Guards who oversee the Cold Prison, aren’t you?”

Dao Dai’er rested his delicate hand on his chin, leaning on the ice table, and chuckled: “But have you considered, with so many maidservants coming to visit Sister Nu, where are they now? What you saw earlier was just me waiting for you outside the door, wasn’t it?”

Yuegong Hui was stunned. Indeed, the maidservants had arrived at the Cold Prison in groups of two or three at that time, but now, not a single one was to be seen in Yuegong Nu’s cell. So, it seemed Dao Qiongcang was truly just waiting for him outside the door? Was he so certain that Yuegong Hui would take the bait? He even proactively gave him an identity jade token, asking him to go to the Spirit Protection Hall that night?

“I…”

“You’re not wrong; you’re just useless.” The words that came from Dao Dai’er’s mouth were always colder than the Cold Prison itself.

“Let me go…” Yuegong Hui was powerless to retort and could only plead, “Dao Qiongcang, I don’t know what you want to do, but I…”

“I want to live! This old man wants to live!” Agony and filth ravaged Yuegong Hui, and tears flowed uncontrollably from his eyes. He desperately wanted to move the other party with words, but realizing this was unrealistic, he choked back his sobs, unable to speak. “Please, let me go…”

Never before had Yuegong Hui’s will to survive been stronger than it was now. In his youth, he had fantasized about a heroic scenario where he would one day fight for the Han Palace Imperial Realm, fail, be captured, yet remain defiant to death. He discovered the gap between fantasy and reality was too vast! He couldn't accept himself in this deplorable state; this was not how a Spirit Protection Hall Commander should behave or be treated!

“Who am I? I am Yuegong Hui! I have endured for generations, finally securing this good position in the Spirit Protection Hall. My life henceforth was supposed to be what generations in the Han Palace Imperial Realm had dreamt of — high above the clouds, sitting idly, with countless people coming to serve me… Yet, because of a maidservant! I, Yuegong Hui, am to die in the Cold Prison?”

From Dao Qiongcang’s earlier actions, even Yuegong Hui, as foolish as he was, could see that he wouldn't leave the Cold Prison alive. But…

“I said, I won’t kill you.”

Dao Dai’er, however, maintained his words and actions from beginning to end, never killing a weak person who was powerless to resist.

“Then how will I die?” Yuegong Hui couldn't imagine. After a blank stare, he turned his gaze and caught sight of Yuegong Nu gripping a sword with both hands to one side… His mind went blank.

“You want me to kill him?”

Yuegong Nu naturally noticed Yuegong Hui’s gaze. Recalling Dao Qiongcang’s words – that he wouldn’t kill, but Old Hui would still die – it wasn’t hard to conclude that either Yuegong Hui would commit suicide, or she would have to kill him. But…

“Do you think I would slaughter a Commander of my own clan’s Spirit Protection Hall for an outsider like you?” Yuegong Nu couldn’t understand Dao Qiongcang anymore. He, too, came from a noble family. He should understand that no matter what mistakes Old Hui had made, he shouldn’t die by her hand. That wouldn’t be in accordance with the rules. Even if a person from the Han Palace Imperial Realm committed the gravest error, they would be judged by the Han Palace Imperial Realm’s own rules.

“Zheng…”

Dao Dai’er didn’t reply, ignoring Yuegong Nu for the second time. He resumed playing the qin, continuing the second half of “Lament of the Southern Court” that he had left unfinished. The stark, killing melody echoed throughout the cell. Yuegong Hui trembled, daring not to make a sound, fearing that if he accidentally disturbed the atmosphere, Dao Qiongcang would use it as an excuse to end him. Yuegong Nu also fell silent. As the melody progressed, holding the Wrathful Immortal Buddha Sword, she once again felt a bone-chilling cold pierce her. This made her sober.

A chance? Dao Qiongcang never gave anyone a chance! He was always someone who would nip potential troubles in the bud. Since he had bestowed this sword upon her… if it were anyone else, they might overlook the detail of the Wrathful Immortal Buddha Sword’s connection to her, thereby leaving a vulnerability. But he was Dao Qiongcang. Would he not have noticed that the Wrathful Immortal Buddha Sword contained a sword intent? Would he not have guessed that she might be able to wield the Wrathful Immortal Buddha Sword? Yet, he still gave her the sword… Giving a lethal weapon to an unarmed person was clearly not meant for self-destruction, but rather to kill with a borrowed knife.

Listening to the music, Yuegong Nu turned her gaze to Yuegong Hui, who in turn looked back at her with tearful, pleading eyes. From his desperate expression and the silent movement of his lips, Yuegong Nu read two words that moved her:

“Miss…”

The music ended. The silence maintained by Dao Dai’er was broken by Dao Dai’er himself. He placed his hands on the qin, first smilingly looking at Yuegong Nu, then with a hint of expectation, asked, “Sister Nu, what do you think of my qin playing?”

Yuegong Nu, completely at a loss as to Dao Qiongcang’s intentions, replied with a cold face: “Lewd.”

Dao Dai’er chuckled, “High, naturally it’s high!”

He then looked back at Yuegong Hui in the corner, his smile fading, his expression becoming devoid of emotion, and he indifferently asked: “Commander, what do you think of Dai’er’s qin playing?”

The boomerang that had been thrown into the prison corridor at that time finally struck him squarely in the forehead at this moment. After a violent tremor, Yuegong Hui clearly understood what Dao Qiongcang intended to do. He frantically tried to lift his powerless body, no longer caring about his image, and knelt on his knees, buttocks raised. He kowtowed repeatedly, his head bleeding, and cried out in anguish: “Let me go! Let me go! Hall Master Dao, please let this old man go, I beg you, spare me, I was wrong…”

Yuegong Nu was startled. She didn't understand why Yuegong Hui was reacting so strongly. He had been captured and tortured by Dao Qiongcang, and had heard “Lament of the Southern Court” before, so why this sudden, extreme reaction now?

Yuegong Nu gripped the Wrathful Immortal Buddha Sword, maintaining her watchful stance. No emotion could be discerned in Dao Dai’er’s expression; he showed not the slightest hint of being moved by Yuegong Hui’s pretense. He merely repeated in an indifferent tone: “Commander, what do you think of my qin playing?”

How dared Yuegong Hui answer? How could Yuegong Hui answer? He buried his head firmly on the ground, only regretting that at the time, his mind clouded by lust, he had done things that he would regret for the rest of his life. He swallowed blood foam and tears, still keeping his head buried and not daring to look up, and mumbled: “High…”

“Incorrect.”

“Hall Master Dao’s qin skills are superb, rarely seen in the world!”

“Incorrect.”

“Hall Master Dao is unparalleled in the way of qin music…”

“Still incorrect.”

Dao Dai’er sat indifferently before the ice table. Under his gaze, the ice prison seemed to transform into the underworld, and the man beneath the table was a sinner awaiting judgment.

Yuegong Nu understood something. This was not a question meant to be answered, and any answer given would be beside the point. Dao Qiongcang wasn’t seeking an irrelevant appraisal; he was recreating a scene. Recreating some events that had transpired between him and Yuegong Hui, unseen by her, when he was still Dai’er and the strange sounds had come from the prison corridor?

“Commander, what do you think of my qin playing?” Dao Dai’er spoke again.

Yuegong Nu knew Dao Qiongcang had a peculiar habit. From a young age, he had held himself in high regard and disliked repeating the same words many times. It would make him feel either that he was too stupid to express himself, or that the other person was too stupid, making repeated expression even more unnecessary. To say the same sentence three times, it was clear that this question, this matter, held immense weight in his heart.

Yuegong Hui prostrated himself on the ground, trembling all over, carefully mimicking the tone, and to save his life, he stammered in reply: “How dare I comment, it must be divine… ah…”

The phrasing, the tone… Yuegong Nu closed her eyes deeply. She understood completely. Dao Qiongcang was Yuegong Hui, and Yuegong Hui was Dai’er. The ice cell was not an ice cell; it was the corridor just beyond a wall, an unseen place of darkness and filth! What happened next, it went without saying, Yuegong Nu could largely imagine. What she couldn’t believe was that right in front of her, separated only by an ice wall, and knowing that Dai’er was Yuegong Li’s subordinate, Old Hui… Yuegong Hui, truly dared to do such a thing? Hadn’t he come for the serious business concerning A-Li and A-Si? Because of this, Yuegong Nu had even previously doubted whether those things that seemed like slander might just be Dao Qiongcang’s one-sided story!

“Buzz…”

Inside the ice prison, the sword hummed. The Buddha Sword was enraged!

A scene flashed through Yuegong Nu’s mind: when she first asked Dao Qiongcang how he planned to deal with Yuegong Hui. His answer was: “It’s up to you.” Only then did Yuegong Nu understand that even back then, he already knew her answer for this moment. But… could Yuegong Hui be killed? Even now, having fallen into the Cold Prison and become a criminal, Yuegong Nu still knew she was a member of the Han Palace Yue Clan, the daughter of the Han Palace Holy Emperor, and the elder sister of Yuegong Li, the Holy Emperor’s successor. Every action she took, no matter how small, would be magnified by those with ulterior motives, subsequently affecting A-Li and her father, causing them to endure additional, unwarranted attacks.

“Those of the Han Palace Imperial Realm who commit errors will be judged by the rules of the Han Palace Imperial Realm; even the Judgment Department has no right to interfere!” This was a belief Yuegong Nu had been instilled with since childhood, and she had upheld it her entire life. It was precisely because the people of the Han Palace Imperial Realm were united and adhered to this belief that she was able to survive after her mistake thirty years ago.

“Cold…”

Yuegong Nu gripped the Buddha Sword, trembling from the chill. She realized belatedly that Dao Qiongcang’s elaborate scheme wasn’t aimed at Yuegong Hui, but at her! She held back. If she were to raise her sword and strike down Yuegong Hui now, she would not only be killing a person but also severing her own past convictions and nullifying her thirty empty years in the Cold Prison. Furthermore, it would fulfill Dao Qiongcang’s favorite desire: to validate his reputation as “unfathomable” through others’ actions!

“Zheng…”

But it was at this moment that Luanxue’s strings vibrated. It was the meaningless, yet utterly disturbing, cacophony that Dao Qiongcang produced when he rose to his feet with his hands on the qin. Facing Yuegong Hui’s repentance, he showed no appreciation, ignoring the filth in the corner like a deity, and continued to ask: “Commander, can you also play ‘Lament of the Southern Court’?”

Bang bang bang! Yuegong Hui desperately kowtowed. He struck with such force that it seemed he would smash his own brains out. “Let me go… Please, let me go!!!”

Dao Dai’er repeated, “Commander, can you also play ‘Lament of the Southern Court’?”

“I can’t! I don’t play the qin!” Yuegong Hui cried like a madman, his eyeballs almost popping out as he lifted his head.

“Commander, can you also play ‘Lament of the Southern Court’?” His response was the cyclical torment of a nightmare.

Yuegong Hui broke down, mumbling incoherently, and a strange, powerless, almost feminine sound escaped his lips: “Perhaps… I can?”

Dao Dai’er then continued, “Commander, why don’t you come to my Qianshi Imperial Realm? I just happen to have a vacant position there, needing a Holy Emperor successor.”

“I… I’m not worthy…”

“Indeed, you’re not worthy, so you’re not coming to take up a position, just to visit, tonight.”

“Visit… for what…?”

“Nothing.” Dao Dai’er said condescendingly and indifferently, “I simply wish to hear you play ‘Lament of the Southern Court’ for me alone.”

Yuegong Hui collapsed onto the ground. The sound he made was exactly like the strange noise Yuegong Nu had heard from behind the ice wall at that time.

*Screech—*

The Buddha Sword, Wrathful Immortal, carved a deep gash on the ground. Yuegong Nu trembled all over, not from cold, but from rage. The massive sword, previously too heavy for her to even push with both hands, was now lifted by her with force!

“Lament of the Southern Court…”

Yuegong Nu shook her head in a daze, her face covered in frost. She couldn't imagine what if the Dai’er in the corridor at that time wasn’t Dao Qiongcang, but genuinely Dai’er… She didn’t even dare to imagine what if she wasn’t Yuegong Nu, not A-Li’s sister, not the daughter of the Han Palace Holy Emperor, but merely a criminal who was even half a step more ordinary… She had never judged the world with the utmost malice. But after thirty years in the Cold Prison, having thought she had seen all of life’s harsh realities, her eyes were opened once more at this moment.

“Lament of the Southern Court!”

Yuegong Nu gritted her teeth, holding the Wrathful Immortal Buddha Sword, and walked step by step to Yuegong Hui, who was cowering in the corner, unable to escape. “You came for A-Si! You originally came for A-Si!”

“Yuegong Nu, you can’t kill me! I am the Commander of the Spirit Protection Hall! Are you going to conspire with outsiders and murder a clan elder… Yuegong Nu! Wake up! Miss! Miss Nu! Please let me go, Miss, this is all his illusion, he forced me to do it, it wasn’t my intention…”

The demonic sounds, sometimes roaring, sometimes pleading, echoed in her ears. The faces, at times frantic, at times begging, shifted before her. Just as the real world intersected with the imagined, and the self disintegrated in the eyes of others, when the Wrathful Immortal Buddha Sword was raised high, Yuegong Nu could no longer hear any extraneous sounds. The only image flashing in her mind was herself, countless versions of herself over all these years.

Confined in the Cold Prison. She had lost everything she should have had. For thirty years, she had sat here, bored, repenting, with only Luanxue as her companion, still believing this was “right.” Was it right?

“Thud! Thud! Thud!”

There was no answer. After all these years, Yuegong Nu realized she still hadn't found the answer. Only when she wielded the great sword could she vent the question and the pain that had been suppressed for thirty years, tormenting her for thirty years, and which she later didn't even dare to contemplate. She wanted to chop apart filth, chop apart grime, chop apart squalor, chop apart all the “shoulds” she had seen, witnessed, and learned before, but had lied to herself about, telling herself she “should” sacrifice her personal life to protect the greater community! She was severing the path of the past. The Buddha Sword was purifying tormented souls.

“Lament of the Southern Court…”

“Lament of the Southern Court! I’ll give you ‘Lament of the Southern Court’!”

Yuegong Nu had never dared to imagine that “Lament of the Southern Court” could be associated with such sordidness; she had completely lost the meaning of her thirty years of bitter confinement in the Cold Prison. “Die!”

As the Buddha Sword made its final furious downward thrust… a jade-white hand reached out from the side, gripping her bloodied wrist that held the sword. Only then did Yuegong Nu realize that the palms of both her hands were completely cracked and mangled, and her plain white gown was stained crimson.

“Enough.”

Turning around, the grotesque figure of Dao Dai’er with a male head and female body was gone. The Buddha Sword seemed to have purified even him, and everything returned to normal. Dao Qiongcang didn’t even dare to wear the long gown anymore; he had changed back into his star-patterned robe. He gripped Yuegong Nu’s hand, recoiling sharply. When she turned her gaze back, he quickly released her hand and retreated a few steps.

*Good thing I didn’t provoke her…* Dao Qiongcang recoiled to the side of the ice table, instinctively wanting to sit back in the chair, but he sprang up as if shocked, daring not to sit again. He hesitated for a moment, then forced a smile on his face, not even glancing at the bloody mess in the corner. In a half-joking tone that everyone could clearly discern was meant as mockery, he said: “My dear eldest miss, you have fallen again.”

Yuegong Nu leaned on her sword, stooping at the waist, and turned her head away, breathing heavily. She was drenched in sweat, offering no response to the flamboyant old Daoist’s words. Though weak, she still spoke briefly and forcefully: “Take me out of the Cold Prison. I want to see Bazun An.”

*This is good, this is why I came…* Dao Qiongcang nodded silently. “Not staying here? Not upholding your resolve anymore?”

“Heh.” Yuegong Nu sneered, lifting her head. “Even if I was wrong, thirty years should be enough to repay. Now I just want to leave. I want to see him.”

*Yes, of course, you can…* Dao Qiongcang had always affirmed Yuegong Nu and believed she would own her choices, yet he said: “You are mistaken. If that’s all there is to it, there’s no need for me to take you away.”

Yuegong Nu straightened her back, leaning on her sword. She smoothed out the blood-stained skirt that she had wrinkled with her actions, and also smoothed out her thoughts. Standing in the Cold Prison, amidst the frigid cold, she carefully considered Dao Qiongcang’s words. Finally, she nodded her head slightly and said:

“Yes, I was wrong. I was not wrong.”