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墨書 Inktalez
Yama's Wedding
“Xue, what is Jun Ruo thinking right now?” Yao Guang had not walked far from Xue; he wanted to watch her seriously as Jun Ruo faded from this world. The disappearance of a life in this world was like it had never existed, leaving no trace behind. Yao Guang hoped to remember Jun Ruo, the girl who had once been here, in his eternal life.
“Xue, since coming to the mortal realm, I’ve slowly realized that perhaps this isn’t a punishment. During my time here, I’ve understood many things and learned a lot. Deities are merely mortals with certain abilities, while humans are the true deities.”
Yao Guang’s words might have been hard for some to comprehend, but Xue understood what he meant. Like Yao Guang, he found himself increasingly perplexed by humanity during his time in the mortal realm. In love, there was the unwavering bond between Aunt Qiao and her husband, and then there were Xiao Yao Hao and Liu Qing, who separated due to misunderstandings but ultimately forgave each other and lived happily together. Then there was the situation before him: clearly Jun Ruo loved Mo Yi, and Mo Yi also had feelings for Jun Ruo, yet for some reason, he chose to kill her himself. Even until her death, Jun Ruo never forgave Mo Yi. These experiences left Xue deeply moved. Fortunately, he and Yao Guang had time in this desolate land to slowly learn the intricacies of love. However, what Xue did not know was that his relationship with Yao Guang would face a devastating disaster, plunging him into a choice similar to that of Mo Yi. It was only then that he truly understood the helplessness in Mo Yi’s heart when he made his choice.
When Mo Yi left Jun Ruo, he didn’t even have the courage to look back at her. He feared that if he turned around, he would recklessly stay by her side. His eyes felt slightly stinging; without a next life for Jun Ruo, even his wish to atone for his sins in another life became a luxury. Even if there were another life, surely Jun Ruo wouldn’t want to meet him again.
Mo Yi quietly hid not far away, watching Jun Ruo. The gentle breeze lifted her hair; lying there, she looked like a newborn child, her eyes and expression radiating purity and tranquility. The white garment she wore was speckled with red dots, and in Mo Yi’s heart, those red spots felt like tiny stings. He couldn’t pinpoint where this pain originated—was it in his heart or was it coursing through his body? Eventually, he realized that the pain wasn’t within him but rather on Jun Ruo.
The scene before him blurred; Mo Yi quickly wiped his eyes, greedily gazing at Jun Ruo. Every action he had taken and every word he had spoken had pierced deep into her heart. Now he finally understood the wounds that Jun Ruo had suffered—the blood that had dripped from his face, carrying her warmth, her emotions, and her scent—made his face burn painfully hot, rendering him unable to see Jun Ruo clearly anymore. Slowly extending his hand, he wished to feel the warmth of the blood on Jun Ruo, but the warmth that passed through his fingers left him stunned.
Looking down at his hands, he saw his own tears falling drop by drop like pearls from a broken string—uncontrollable and relentless.
“Mo Yi, do you like it here?”
“I do.”
“Then will you stay here with me?”
“...”
“Is that okay? I will treat you very well; you can have anything you want.”
“Okay.”
“Hahaha! You are now my chief wife—no wait, my chief husband.”
But in the end, I never became your husband.
Mo Yi covered his face with both hands, suppressing his sobs.
That afternoon, in the forest stood a sorrowful man watching a woman so beautiful it seemed unreal; he cried like a child. Only the weeping wind in the woods bore witness to this sound of sorrow.
In the tenth year of the Dingkang era, the emperor of the Mo Dynasty passed away. In the same year, the Third Prince, Mo Yi, ascended to the throne, becoming a legendary emperor.
During his eighteen years of reign, the nine provinces enjoyed peace and prosperity, with favorable weather and a flourishing populace. He avoided continuous warfare and ushered in an era of great tranquility.
The legend of this emperor left future generations in awe; however, he had no consorts in his harem, and naturally, there were no heirs. Despite the ministers' petitions and even threats of death, he remained silent.
Eighteen years passed in peace, but during this time, the emperor took his own life within Black Wind Stronghold. Thus, this legendary ruler departed from the world unexpectedly.
It was said that his body was not interred in the royal mausoleum. When he was buried, only one item accompanied him: a memorial tablet of his first wife that he had carved himself. It was said that when he was still a prince, he had married a woman from the common folk. Throughout his life, he never remarried, remaining devoted to his first wife.
However... all these tales were merely hearsay.
"Let’s go," Xue said as he watched Mo Yi's coffin being placed inside Black Wind Stronghold.
Life is but a fleeting few decades. During the decades that Xue and Yao Guang spent apart from Jun Ruo, they traveled across rivers and mountains, encountering all sorts of people.
By chance, they returned to Black Wind Stronghold and saw Mo Yi again after eighteen long years.
"I didn't expect you both to still look so young, just like eighteen years ago," Mo Yi remarked as he gazed at Yao Guang and Xue. Now that peace reigned and the people lived in comfort, he felt he had fulfilled his father's wishes and owed it to the citizens. He believed he had found a worthy successor for the next generation of emperors. After so many years, Mo Yi thought he could finally meet Jun Ruo—no, perhaps he would never see Jun Ruo again.
"I know you two are not ordinary people; perhaps you are the immortals spoken of by the national teacher back then." Mentioning the national teacher made Mo Yi chuckle bitterly. "Young Master Xue, may I ask if I have a next life?"
Xue looked at Mo Yi before him; it had only been a hurried eighteen years. The nearly forty-year-old Mo Yi appeared like an old man nearing death. Over these years, he and Yao Guang had traversed mountains and seas, hearing praises for this emperor everywhere they went. The people they encountered lived peacefully; doors were left unlocked at night, and theft was unheard of. Xue knew that Mo Yi would be a good emperor. Now seeing him in person, Xue could hardly believe his eyes; Mo Yi had aged far too quickly. Sighing inwardly, Xue realized that while he had heard of this emperor's great achievements, he also learned of one significant flaw: his harem was empty, as all his time and energy were devoted to state affairs. It seemed that Mo Yi still could not let go of what happened with Jun Ruo all those years ago.
"Mo Yi, you need not be this way," Yao Guang said as she looked at him. Over the years, she had come to terms with her own past grievances and began to understand that many things in this world were beyond one's control.
Hearing Yao Guang call his name brought Mo Yi back to reality; it had been many years since anyone dared to address him so familiarly. As an emperor on high, everyone feared him; with a single word, he could take a life. Yet paradoxically, at nightfall, he felt increasingly afraid—afraid that one decision might lead to innocent lives being lost just as it had before. In the stillness of night, no one knew how cold that vast palace could be or how desperately one might wish to escape it. Once enchanted by everything within those palace walls—the throne in the Golden Dragon Hall held immense allure for him—but since Jun Ruo's death, it felt like a vast abyss where he struggled alone without hope of escape. If not for Mo City occasionally visiting him and reminiscing about Jun Ruo's past with him, he wouldn't have been able to endure for so many years.
"I just want to know if I have a next life," Mo Yi insisted as he turned to Xue and Yao Guang.
"You will certainly have a next life," Yao Guang replied gently. "In your next life, you will forget everything from this one and begin anew."
Looking at Mo Yi's current state made her heart ache; for him to truly find relief from this life's suffering would mean liberation.
"So I do have a next life," Mo Yi murmured softly. "But if she is no longer there in that life... why should I desire it?" Hearing Yao Guang's words did not bring him joy; instead, it deepened his despair.
"You know, over the years, Jun Ruo's image has started to fade in my mind. I can hardly remember what she looked like," Mo Yi said painfully.
Xue looked around the room. On the floor and scattered across the table were various portraits of Jun Ruo—some depicted her practicing with a sword, others showed her running through flowers, and there were even images of her peacefully asleep. Each painting bore a striking resemblance to Jun Ruo from years ago, showcasing the artist's dedication.
"I keep trying to paint, but none of them are Jun Ruo. No matter how I draw, it’s just not her," Mo Yi lamented, clutching his head. Why had Jun Ruo vanished from his mind?
"Mo Yi, you shouldn't be like this. If Jun Ruo were still here, she wouldn't want to see you like this," Yao Guang said, looking at Mo Yi and offering words of comfort.
"No, that's not true. She doesn't want me anymore. I can never see her again. Even if I searched for lifetimes, I wouldn't find her," Mo Yi replied.
That afternoon, no one knew what the three of them discussed in the room. All that was known was that when the two guests left, their emperor was exceptionally happy. It was the first time in many years that he had appeared so joyful, like a child who finally received something they had longed for.
Then came the news of the emperor's suicide.
"Xue, how could you deceive him like that?" Yao Guang asked, tilting his head at Xue. That day, Xue had told Mo Yi that as the emperor of this world, he could choose not to enter the cycle of reincarnation. Perhaps one day he might encounter a fragment of Jun Ruo's soul because her spirit was preserved by the spiritual energy of the mountains. Even if she had dissipated, maybe that energy would help her regain some essence of her soul, allowing them to meet again.
"Who knows?"
Indeed, who could say whether Mo Yi's soul would ever find Jun Ruo? (To be continued.)
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