Chapter 139: How My Heart Aches

Along a path in the northern district of Lüting City, Chen Zao hung up the phone and tucked the device back into his pocket. Pulling a ghost-face mask from behind his back, he cast a ruthless gaze toward the grey sedan parked by the roadside. He crept furtively along the grassy verge, slithering forward like a venomous snake.

The door of the grey sedan suddenly opened. A slovenly old man climbed out, stretched his arms lazily, and hummed a little tune as he walked into the small woods by the road.

Chen Zao glanced through a gap in the grass at the empty sedan and muttered, "Only one... Well, that's fine too. I'll break them one by one. I'll kill the first, then slaughter the pair!"

Fingering a small blade at his waist, Chen Zao silently followed the slovenly old man into the woods. Seeing the old man halt in front of a large tree, unbuckle his belt, and relieve himself with a steady stream, a cruel smile instantly tugged at the corner of Chen Zao's mouth. He quickened his pace toward the old man.

Just at that moment, a cold blade was suddenly pressed against Chen Zao's neck.

"Take another step forward, and your head will roll!"

A ruthless voice exploded right behind Chen Zao.

Chen Zao froze instantly, his Adam's apple bobbing with a difficult swallow. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the youth in black standing behind him, and said with a trembling voice, "Spare my life, hero! Let's talk this over. Killing people is illegal..."

"Hahaha..." The youth in black let out a few manic laughs. "Killing people is illegal, but butchering a vicious dog is no great offense!"

"Even beating a dog requires looking at its owner," Chen Zao coughed lightly, attempting to borrow someone else's prestige. "My master is none other than Old Master Chen of Lüting City. Think twice, hero!"

The youth in black sneered. "You're the damn second person today to tell me to think twice. Two times three is six, which means I have to think at least six times today? My name is Just Once, I can't manage six times... Besides, I just thought about it: with that ghost-face mask of yours, you look exactly like the Phantom in the news. Slaughtering you will be just right for collecting a bounty at the police station!"

"Wait!" Chen Zao hastily tore off his mask and blurted out urgently, "It's fake! It's fake, I'm not the Phantom... I am Chen Zao, son of the Chen residence steward. You must have heard of Old Master Chen, right? He and that Phantom are sworn enemies, how could I possibly be the Phantom?"

"Empty words carry no weight," the youth in black narrowed his eyes slightly. "Why should I believe a word you're saying?"

Seeing the youth relent slightly, Chen Zao let out a breath and pulled a document from his pocket. "This is my identification, my name is written on it in black and white..." He then retrieved a gold key marked with the character "Chen" from his pocket. "This is the token of the Chen residence steward, left to me by my father. There is the character 'Chen' right at the top of the key. It's the genuine article; if you don't believe me, you can bite it to see if it's real gold."

"I'm no Cheng咬金, why the hell would I bite it..." The youth in black shoved both Chen Zao's identification and the gold key into his own pocket and asked coldly, "Speak! Why were you impersonating the Phantom?"

"This..." Chen Zao hesitated for a moment. "Hero, this is my family's private matter. I advise you not to pry too much."

"Are you going to talk or not? If not, your head's coming off..."

"I'll talk, I'll talk... That Phantom killed my father and offended my master, so my master sent me to impersonate him, to slaughter his woman and crush his heart..."

"A fine piece of heart-crushing! And what are you doing running out here to this desolate wilderness now?"

Chen Zao swallowed hard. "Hero, can saying it buy me a life?"

The youth in black pressed the blade a fraction closer and spat out a single cold word: "Speak!"

Chen Zao's face paled. He immediately raised his right finger to point at the slovenly old man urinating not far away, lowering his voice. "That old man ahead and Zhang Xiaoman both belong to the Phantom's sect. My master sent me to greet the guests, chop off their heads, and bring them back to be hung high upon the Yanling Tower..."

"A fine way of greeting guests!" The youth in black let out a heavy snort. "Do you have any last words? Think carefully, you've got at least one sentence you can say!"

"Spare my life, hero," Chen Zao said with a deathly pale face. "Can I save it until I die of old age?"

"No!"

"May I ask the hero's honorable name?"

"Come, so you can die knowing the truth," the youth in black twisted Chen Zao's head by ninety degrees, his gaze chillingly dark. "My name is Shen Yixia—Xia as in the flowers blooming in summer!"

Chen Zao stared wide-eyed at Shen Yixia's face, pleading with a crying voice, "Hero, we have no old grudges and no recent grievances. Can't you leave this little one a path to survival?"

"Who says we have no grudges and no grievances?" A strange smile surfaced at the corner of Shen Yixia's mouth. He fished a cartoon ghost-face mask from behind him and put it on. "Killing my woman and planning to slaughter my sect as well—you call that no grudges and no grievances?"

"You're the Phantom?" Chen Zao was struck as if by lightning. A puddle of yellow water leaked between his legs as he stammered, "Spare my life, Phantom... Those things were all forced upon me by the old master. Every debt has its debtor, this has nothing to do with little old me!"

"There is indeed some logic to that..." Shen Yixia smacked his lips. "Then do me the trouble of bringing a message to your master."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Chen Zao nodded repeatedly like a chick pecking at rice. "Don't say one, ten or a hundred sentences are fine!"

"Tell him that tonight I will come to claim his life, and let him wash his neck clean and wait!"

"No problem!"

"There's one more thing I must trouble you with..."

"My identity as the Phantom—must never be mentioned to a second person."

"Rest assured, rest assured! My lips are sealed!"

"Mm, that's good..." Shen Yixia patted Chen Zao's head with his left hand with a look of gratification, while his right hand, gripping the small blade, gave a fierce slash. A fountain of blood instantly erupted. Watching Chen Zao clutch his neck with both hands and collapse in absolute terror, Shen Yixia smiled with light disdain. "Forgot to tell you, what I meant was for you to bring my message to him when you reunite with your master down below..."

"Alas!" An aged sigh rang out abruptly. The slovenly old man who had been urinating not far away had appeared before Shen Yixia at some unknown moment.

He looked at Chen Zao, covered in blood upon the ground, and then at Shen Yixia's bloodthirsty gaze. A look of sorrow and regret crossed the slovenly old man's face as he said, "Xia, how did you turn yourself into this ghost of a person?"

Shen Yixia pulled down the hood of his black hoodie, revealing hair that was half snow-white and half pitch-black. Lowering his head, he said softly, "Your disciple is unfilial and has troubled Master."

"Other people turn white-haired overnight; what kind of ghost is having hair half-black and half-white..." The slovenly old man stared blankly at Shen Yixia for a few seconds, pressed the corner of his own eye, and pointed at the cartoon ghost-face mask on Shen Yixia's face. "Did A-lian draw this for you?"

Shen Yixia took off the ghost-face mask, stroked it gently with his hand, his gaze instantly softening a fraction, and nodded lightly.

"It looks very nice, much more pleasing to the eye than your old one..." The slovenly old man let out a long sigh. "It's a pity, after all, we never got to drink your wedding wine..." He paused, put away the sorrow on his face, and said with a solemn expression, "I know what you've come here for, but I want to advise you one more time: once blood is spilled, there's no going back between black and white."

"Black and white are already upon your disciple's head," Shen Yixia took a deep breath, his gaze resolute. "I only need to spill blood!"

"You must still think twice..."

"Master, you are the third person today to tell me to think twice..."

"Oh, then we won't mention thinking twice. Three times three is nine, and nine is the ultimate extreme; nothing turns out well when taken to extremes... Can you tell me what you plan to do next?"

"Three moves: replace the plum with the peach, lure the tiger away from the mountain, and perish together!"

"Too tragic! With the imperial pardon token in hand, you should be able to get out unscathed. Why still wish for mutual destruction?"

"Zhang Xiaoman said today that people driven to a dead end usually want to die themselves."

"What she said has reason and evidence..." The slovenly old man pulled a dark iron token from his pocket, tossed it toward Shen Yixia, and sighed softly. "It has come to this after all. Take the pardon token..."

Shen Yixia caught the pardon token, stunned for a moment, and frowned as he asked, "You're just giving it to me like this?"

"This isn't some precious gold or silver treasure, just a piece of broken iron token..." The slovenly old man pursed his lips. "I was planning to trick it from Zhang Xiaoman to give to you anyway. Did you expect me to invite you three times and refuse you three times? Between the two of us, is there any need for that?"

Shen Yixia looked at the dark iron token in his hand, his eye rims turning slightly red. "Indeed, there is no need."

"There, there, don't go crying under my nose," the slovenly old man dug into his nose and waved a hand impatiently. "Go on, go do what you want to do. Master cannot stop you, nor do I wish to stop you..."

Shen Yixia bit his lip, cupped his fists, bowed in salute, and uttered the words, "Many thanks for Master's fulfillment." He turned his body, about to leave, but suddenly halted his steps.

Pfft! A subtle sound came from behind Shen Yixia. Shen Yixia whipped around instantly, standing frozen in place as he saw the slovenly old man gripping a small blade with both hands, driving it fiercely into his own heart.

Shen Yixia lifted his right foot, feeling as heavy as a thousand pounds, and stepped toward the slovenly old man, choking out, "Master, why did you have to do this?"

"Don't come over..." The slovenly old man waved a hand irritably. "I just told you not to stand there crying and wailing in front of me. Won't you even listen to Master's words?" He spat out a mouthful of bloody foam. "It's so damn twisted! Emotionally, I support you, but on the other hand, I feel Zhang Xiaoman is also right: killing someone shouldn't be done with the blade in your own hand, but through public justice and righteousness..."

"He isn't right about everything!" Shen Yixia stopped, tears streaming down his face as he cried, "Master, everyone has their own reasoning, why must we listen to him?"

"He's the president..."

"You are too..."

"I'm the vice."

"Even a vice is a president!"

The slovenly old man spat a mouthful of blood forcefully onto the ground. "Bah, the taste of blood really tastes like hell... Xia, the two of us always have to give others an account. Even if we're direct lineage, we can't be that overbearing, we must reason..."

Shen Yixia watched the blood continuously gushing from the slovenly old man's chest and dropped to his knees with a thud. "To hell with his ghost reason!"

The slovenly old man managed a pale, wretched smile. "I just like this straightforward spirit of yours—laughing, cursing, truly damn satisfying!" He drew a blood-stained envelope from his bosom. "Almost forgot this. If it got all stained and unreadable... it would waste my effort... That old bastard wanted to plot against you. Greeting guests? Damn it, he wanted to splash dirty water on you again! Matricide and parricide are people's favorite plots to watch... Even with my toes I can guess what two steps he wants to take next: admitting fault, heart-piercing? I'll help him take them first, leaving him nowhere to run..."

Shen Yixia lowered his head, burying his hands deeply into the mud, sobbing uncontrollably. "Master... stop talking. If you say any more, all the blood will drain out..."

The slovenly old man pressed hard on the hilt of the blade, causing another large pool of blood to overflow from his chest. He let his head droop weakly. "Not afraid of blood draining out, as long as it wasn't spilled in vain... You should go. If you don't go now, Zhang Xiaoman will be here..."

Tears dripped one by one onto the ground, seeping into the soil. Shen Yixia let out a suppressed roar, banging his head three times heavily against the ground toward the slovenly old man. "Master, your blood has drained dry today, and your disciple's tears have run dry as well... In the next life, let's not be master and disciple again. My heart hurts too terribly!"

The slovenly old man could no longer maintain his footing and slumped onto the ground. "I even thought about living standing up and dying standing up, but I can't even stand... Television shows are all lies..." He suddenly snapped his head up to glare at Shen Yixia, roaring angrily, "Get lost! From today on, I, Sima Bei, have no disciple!"

Shen Yixia wiped the tear tracks from his face with his sleeve, put the cartoon ghost-face mask back on, let out an angry roar, turned around, and bolted away at a run.

The slovenly old man gazed fixedly at Shen Yixia's retreating figure, a warm smile curving the corners of his mouth, as he breathed his final, heavy breath. "How my heart aches..."