After Transmigrating Into the Book, I Raised the Sickly Side Male Character to Be the Yandere - Chapter 73
Chapter 73 : Mount Wuchang
Jiang Ziyou opened his eyes and instinctively reached for the jade pillow beside him.
There was no one there.
“Where is Master?” he muttered, rubbing his eyes as he groggily sat up.
Pushing the door open, he stepped outside.
The moonlight dimmed suddenly, and the temperature dropped sharply.
The atmosphere changed entirely. In every indistinct corner, it seemed as if phantoms and specters were lurking.
“Master?”
In a daze, he realized the corridor had grown eerie and dark, as though he had stepped into some kind of barrier.
The surroundings had silently transformed.
Was this an illusion?
Perplexed, he moved forward.
A door materialized out of thin air.
“True Monarch, have mercy! I have an elderly parent and young children to care for. I don’t want to die! Please, I beg you! I’ll never do evil again. I’ll change—I promise to change!”
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!”
Accompanied by the violent clanging of iron chains and wretched screams, a strong scent of blood began to fill the air.
Is Master in there?
Suspicious, Jiang Ziyou pushed the door open and entered.
The scene inside made his scalp tingle and tighten.
His shoulders shrank involuntarily, his throat dried, and his body trembled uncontrollably.
It wasn’t so much a secret chamber as an abyss constructed of barriers, bottomless and endless.
Countless people were bound by chains on the cliffs.
They struggled in terror, but a spell of silence had been cast on them. They were immobilized and unable to make a sound.
They were all alive!
In the center of the abyss floated an array formation.
At its heart stood a massive pillar carved from white luminite stone.
Yet the stone, once pristine, was now stained with mottled blood, barely recognizable.
A man, bound tightly to the pillar, bore countless curses etched across his body.
His chest had a gaping, bloody hole, and he stared ahead, lifeless and unresigned in death.
“Drip… drip…”
Warm blood trickled down the pillar, drop by drop.
Terrified, Jiang Ziyou took several steps back, mumbling, “What… what is all this?”
A familiar and chilling aura suddenly appeared behind him.
“Have you seen enough?”
A cold voice, distant and emotionless, sent shivers down his spine.
“I didn’t expect that sleeping beside me every night would leave you tainted with my energy, allowing you to enter this barrier.”
Jiang Ziyou froze, his back stiffening as he slowly turned around.
Standing there was Wen Shili, his master, clad in white robes.
His clear, cold eyes reflected Jiang Ziyou’s pale and fragile face.
“Master… what… what are you doing?”
“Why aren’t you sleeping soundly? Why must you wander about?” Wen Shili calmly wiped blood from his sword with a handkerchief, his gaze lowering.
“Ziyou, you’ve disappointed me.”
His thin lips parted, and a faint glow occasionally flickered between his teeth.
Cool and aloof, his words carried an unprecedented sinister edge.
Jiang Ziyou stared at him in a daze, his heart hollow and lost.
He murmured, “Master… has killed so many people…”
“The man on the pillar,” Wen Shili began, his tone measured, “was a slothful gambler who squandered his family fortune and drove his elderly mother to her death. In a drunken rage, he accidentally killed his youngest son, yet he remained unrepentant. Do you think he deserved to die, Ziyou?”
“I don’t know… I don’t know…” Jiang Ziyou’s eyes were filled with confusion.
“You’re not my master. Master said to protect all living beings, to hold righteousness in one’s heart. This… this isn’t right…”
Wen Shili continued, “Everyone here is a vile sinner who escaped the punishment they deserved, spreading misery wherever they went. Since that is the case, why shouldn’t I end their lives and make something useful out of them?”
Though Wen Shili was usually taciturn and cold, he now spoke incessantly.
Jiang Ziyou shook his head desperately, his heart aching unbearably but strangely devoid of tears.
“Master… stop talking! Stop talking! I don’t want to hear anymore…”
To Jiang Ziyou, Wen Shili had always been his faith, his sky, his earth—a presence he could never hope to reach.
Yet in this moment, his faith crumbled, the heavens collapsed, and the earth shattered.
“Ziyou…” Wen Shili addressed him with rare intimacy.
He reached out to pat his head as he always did, but Jiang Ziyou shrank away.
Crouching down, Jiang Ziyou made himself as small as possible, as if doing so could help him escape it all.
“Everything I’ve done is for you,” Wen Shili sighed.
“Sleep well. Forget everything.”
Immense spiritual energy surged gently into Jiang Ziyou’s mind, sealing away his memories.
His eyes lost focus, and he collapsed unconscious.
Wen Shili’s white sleeve swept through the air as he caught Jiang Ziyou in his arms.
His movements were steady and powerful, his palm cool to the touch as he cradled Jiang Ziyou.
With a flick of his wide sleeve, he entered the Qingxin Hall.
His natural aura exuded authority, causing the barrier behind him to dissolve.
The corridor returned to being just a corridor.
The courtyard remained unchanged.
It was as if nothing had ever happened.
His Ziyou rested peacefully in his embrace.
Nothing would ever change.
Wen Shili laid Jiang Ziyou on the jade bed and leaned down to kiss him.
This time, it was different.
This kiss lacked restraint; it was tender and tinged with desire.
The once aloof and ethereal immortal now revealed a glimmer of lust in his cold eyes.
Amid soft breaths, he murmured, “Ziyou, don’t be afraid. I won’t let you die. I’ll always protect you…”
…
When consciousness returned, overwhelming sorrow consumed Jiang Ziyou.
He felt like a soulless puppet, dazed and lifeless.
“Heehee, this isn’t an illusion. It’s a real memory,” a woman’s voice chimed.
Her playful laughter was accompanied by a pale, bloodstained face—anything but endearing.
“What do you want?” Jiang Ziyou asked.
The woman grinned wildly, her mouth stretching unnaturally wide.
“I don’t like cilantro, so I wouldn’t want it to go extinct. That’s pretty much what I mean.. Not everyone adores your master. Some hate him to the core but can do nothing about it.”
“Why does Master kill people…”
“Heehee, time’s up! If you want to know the truth, go to Mount Wuchang. Everything you seek is there.”
“A saint? There are no saints in this world! Revenge breeds revenge—when will it ever end? Heeheeheeheehee…”
The woman laughed eerily as she raised her hands and peeled away her skin layer by layer.
It was all an illusion.
The vision faded away, leaving the room pristine once more.
Silence stretched endlessly.
The white jade floor shone as pure as Wen Shili’s saintly image.
Yet Jiang Ziyou felt as though he stood in hell, drowning in a sea of blood.
Fuzzy, deeper memories began surfacing in his mind.
More horrifyingly, he felt as if he had died.
Mount Wuchang.
Mount Wuchang.
Mount Wuchang.
He had never heard of this place, yet it felt hauntingly familiar.
Sleep was impossible now.
Jiang Ziyou wasted no time, leaping from the bed, hastily dressing, grabbing his storage pouch and the Feiying Liuyun Sword, and rushing out the door.
