UCS Chapter 140

Chapter 140

 

Gao Gusheng took Wu Qin to find Sun Jun; they found him, but couldn’t persuade him to return.

 

There was a startling unfamiliarity in his gaze—one would have preferred to see guilt or even loathing; instead, he was utterly calm, wearing a faint smile, as if looking at two strangers.

 

Wu Qin shook his head and sighed, his posture seeming to slump with weariness.

 

Gao Gusheng walked Wu Qin out; he wanted to offer some words of comfort but didn’t know what to say.

 

His anger mounted as he walked back. He grabbed a book, intending to study in the self-study room, only to run into an unwelcome sight: the usually deserted, out-of-the-way room was occupied. A closer look revealed the person inside to be none other than Zhang Xu.

 

Expressionless, Gao Gusheng tucked his book under his arm and turned to leave. Although furious, he knew there was something strange about Zhang Xu; until he figured it out, it was best to avoid being alone with him.

 

Unexpectedly, Zhang Xu laughed. “Classmate Gao, don’t you want to have a chat with me?”

 

“There’s nothing for us to talk about.”

 

Gao Gusheng closed the door and was about to leave when his vision blurred—and suddenly, he found himself inside the classroom. Alarm bells rang in his mind; he gripped his phone and tried to send a distress message to Gao Shi, but the satellite phone—capable of pinpointing a location even in the mountains—seemed completely cut off from the outside world.

 

Gao Gusheng asked in a cold voice, “What are you trying to do?”

 

Zhang Xu smiled. “Didn’t I tell you long ago what I wanted to do?”

 

He suddenly leaned in, bringing his face inches from Gao Gusheng’s. “I just want to look at you.”

 

He gently caressed Gao Gusheng’s cheek. Gao Gusheng swatted his hand away in disgust, but Zhang Xu didn’t get angry; instead, his tone took on a fragile, tender quality. “I’ve lost all my memories—except for you.”

 

Gao Gusheng furrowed his brows and sneered, “What does that have to do with me?”

 

If it had truly been his senior, Zhang Xu, who had lost his memory, he would have been happy to lend a hand. But this… *thing* before him—why should he have to accommodate it?

 

Zhang Xu sighed softly, turned slightly, and rested his chin on his hand as he gazed at him. “I know the Gao family warped you; you don’t have a shred of the compassion you ought to possess. So…”

 

“So I snatched away your top ranking, took your best friend, ruined your career, and tarnished your reputation.”

 

Zhang Xu suddenly looked up; his eyes were deep and eerie—inhuman.

 

“That way, maybe you’d look at me a little longer, wouldn’t you?”

 

Hearing his long-held suspicions voiced so brazenly left Gao Gusheng stunned. He hadn’t realized that the undeserved misfortunes suffered by Yun Zhiyi, Mo Hua, and the others were all because of him!

 

Gao Gusheng was both shocked and furious. “You…”

 

A cool index finger pressed against his lips. Gao Gusheng tried to push it away but found himself immobilized by an invisible force, unable to move a muscle.

 

Zhang Xu leisurely caressed his cheek; his neatly trimmed fingernails grazed softly against Gao Gusheng’s skin—a touch as dangerous as a blade held to the throat.

 

“Gao Gusheng, you were always meant to be mine.”

 

Forehead against forehead, their breaths mingling, Zhang Xu gazed into Gao Gusheng’s eyes and smiled softly. “The bond between us is closer than any other in this world.”

 

“Because you are a part of me.”

 

At that very moment, the sky suddenly darkened. Lightning flashed overhead as massive pillars of purple thunder—streaked with intense golden light—crashed down from the heavens.

 

With a deafening *boom*, Gao Gusheng felt something shift in the unseen depths of existence.

 

Zhang Xu’s pupils contracted, and his grip on Gao Gusheng’s hand tightened instantly. “It’s moving fast.”

 

***

 

“…Is that so?”

 

“The plot—or rather,”

 

“The Heavenly Dao.”

 

The dream world began to shatter, fragment by fragment, as countless scenes surged before their eyes. Gao Gusheng remained unmoved; his voice was cold and stern, suppressing a raging fury. “The Spirit Flower takes a hundred thousand years to bloom and a million years to gestate its spirit, harboring supreme spiritual energy.”

 

“You sought to claim the Spirit Flower for yourself, but it had already gained sentience and refused to submit; thus, you resorted to despicable means to sever its karmic ties and extinguish its spirit.”

 

“Wen Liang severed the bond of classmates.”

 

“Li Mochen severed the bond of kinship.”

 

“Xiao Yusheng severed the bond between teacher and student.”

 

“Gui Yan severed the bond of romantic love.”

 

“The Ghost King severed his connection to even the passing stranger.”

 

“Zhang Wenxuan severed the bond of friendship.”

 

“In this way, every link to the world was severed; left utterly alone and desolate, he harbored a desire for death.”

 

“The Spirit Flower was originally imbued with spirit by the Heavenly Dao; having endured endless torment and finding no joy in existence, upon death, his soul returned to the heavens and earth—”

 

“To nourish *you*.”

 

“Is that not so?”

 

Gao Shi’s shout seemed to make heaven and earth tremble in unison; a golden light pierced the dreamscape, striking him directly. Thunderbolts crashed down upon his head yet left him unharmed; instead, a vast, surging ocean of golden light—the radiance of merit—poured from his brow into his body.

 

Ying Bujie held Gao Shi close, suspended high above the nine heavens amidst a sea of clouds stretching for ten thousand miles. Behind him, a boundless black vortex unfurled, mirroring the blazing sun above—a perfect embodiment of the ultimate contrast between light and darkness.

 

In his hands, a Dharma wheel spun, drawing upon the yin and yang energies of heaven and earth to stabilize Gao Shi’s soul.

 

His gaze was filled with infinite tenderness.

 

…

 

Gao Shi watched as memories of the past came flooding back—from his very birth between heaven and earth, through the collapse of the Six Realms, to his eventual reincarnation in this world. Beneath the peach blossom tree, he reclined gracefully on a bough, clad in white and holding a jug of wine; a golden dragon coiled around the tree’s roots, its body stretching for ten thousand miles.

 

He swirled the wine jug and extended it toward the person before him.

 

“Care to share a drink?”

 

Time flowed backward: from the moment he and the Daoist priest pledged their love beneath the moonlight, back to their first encounter—where the priest, clad in white robes, had captivated him with a single glance that sealed his fate;

 

From the time he and his beloved were forced apart within the river of time, back to lying in that person’s arms, reaching out to touch the long hair beside his ear;

 

From the moment they named a spirit flower together, back to their battle in a small world—where their mingling blood stained the flower’s petals red, forging a bond of karma between them;

 

From the moment he, hazy with drink and following his heart, grabbed the other’s lapels to pull him into a kiss, back to that first meeting—seeing him hold the power of reincarnation, his features as refined and cool as snow atop a mountain peak, stirring his heart instantly.

 

He patted Da Huang’s head and asked:

 

“Who is that person?”

 

“Master, he is the tenth of the Ten Kings of Hell—”

 

“Zhuanlun.”

 

King Zhuanlun—possessor of the thirty-two auspicious marks, responsible for receiving souls from the other halls and sending them forth into their next lives.

 

…

 

High above in the heavens, Gao Shi slowly opened his eyes. Ying Bujie looked down, meeting his gaze, and gently traced the center of Gao Shi’s brow with a cool fingertip. “Awake?”

 

Gao Shi turned over, cupped the other’s face, and kissed him.

 

After a long moment, he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against Ying Bujie’s while breathing softly. “Zhuanlun—long time no see.”

 

“Long time no see.” This time, Ying Bujie initiated the kiss—a light, fleeting touch. With the accumulated emotions of past and present lives, and a quest spanning millions of years across cycles of reincarnation, all they wanted was to lose themselves in each other’s passionate embrace.

 

But it wasn’t time yet.

 

Gao Shi pressed his fingertips against his temple. “We need to go to Lele; something must have happened.”

 

He took out his phone. Because he hadn’t replied to Lele’s messages, Xingxing had triggered the automatic emergency alert system; by now, the Anomaly Management Bureau and the Spirit Management Bureau had likely already arrived on the scene.

 

Ying nodded in understanding. “Alright.”

 

He brushed his hand across Gao Shi’s forehead, causing the surrounding clouds to surge outward like rolling waves.

 

Gao Shi touched his ear; the shattered remnants of the dream had transformed into a tiny golden serpent that coiled itself around his left earlobe.

 

The little snake was incredibly docile, looking just like a golden earring; upon seeing Gao Shi’s hand, it flicked out its tongue and gave his finger a gentle lick.

 

“This is…” Gao Shi was taken aback. “Daoist, I still can’t recall who I was in my past life.”

 

Ying Bujie gazed at Gao Shi’s ear—the cold, hard scales of the tiny golden snake contrasting sharply with the softness of Gao Shi’s earlobe. Only upon hearing the question did he withdraw his gaze. “That is because you have yet to remember your true self.”

 

“Your power has been suppressed far too heavily.”

 

A thought occurred to Gao Shi, and he asked, “If a spiritual flower gains sentience through the Heavenly Dao, why would the Heavenly Dao seek to reclaim that sentience?”

 

Despite having deduced much already, he still harbored doubts.

 

Ying Bujie looked up at the firmament; he could sense that something was watching them.

 

He gripped Gao Shi’s arm tightly and chuckled softly. “Perhaps… it is because one cannot control a power that does not belong to oneself.”

 

Meeting Gao Shi’s astonished gaze, Ying Bujie cupped the back of his neck and planted a kiss that held a hint of aggression.

 

It was a rare display of intense possessiveness—a posture that seemed to challenge an unseen observer.

 

…

 

By the time they arrived, the Spiritual Management Bureau and the Bureau of Extraordinary Affairs were already on the scene.

 

Perhaps the Heavenly Dao did not wish to cause too great a commotion; the entity was found in the outskirts of the city.

 

It was Mount Ling—the very place where Gao Gusheng had been found years ago.

 

He seemed oblivious to the people surrounding and besieging him, calmly weaving a willow branch—fresh with new buds—into a wreath and placing it upon Gao Gusheng’s head.

 

While the agents from the Anomaly Management Bureau could still move freely, the spiritual police from the Spiritual Management Bureau appeared pinned in place by some invisible force; those who had come to assist had instead become shackled.

 

Seeing Gao Shi and Ying Bujie approach, Ran Qiu and the others hurriedly crowded around them. “Captain! Lele is still in his hands—what do we do?”

 

“The Spirit Police are all immobilized; Captain Yin is the only one who can still speak. But he’s already undone two layers of his seals—if he releases the third, he’ll likely lose his sanity completely.”

 

Gao Shi looked toward Yin Ling. The bandages on Yin Ling’s face and arms had been unwrapped, leaving only those on his legs; his muscles bulged, and one of his pupils glowed blood-red. The sound forced from his throat was like the low growl of an ancient, malevolent dragon: “Brother Gao… be careful…”

 

“The pressure he’s exuding is stronger than that of ten Grade-1 malevolent spirits combined!”

 

Naturally.

 

Gao Shi fixed a grave gaze upon Zhang Xu.

 

The entity standing before them was, after all, the Heavenly Dao.

 

Because the Spirit Police derived their powers from the resonance between heaven and earth, they found themselves even more severely suppressed when facing the Heavenly Dao itself.

 

In contrast, the “Spirit Police”—those who hadn’t awakened supernatural abilities—could move freely.

 

Relying solely on sheer willpower, they stood their ground against the Heavenly Dao.

 

The Heavenly Dao, inhabiting Zhang Xu’s body, finally adjusted the flower crown to the perfect angle. Satisfied, It stepped back to admire the effect, much like an artist gazing at their own masterpiece.

 

It raised Its head, looked through the crowd, and locked Its gaze onto Gao Shi and Ying Bujie.

 

“You protected the Spirit Flower well.”

 

Gao Shi didn’t respond; instead, he scrutinized Zhang Xu’s body and suddenly sneered, “Even as the Heavenly Dao, you likely can’t directly interfere with the living beings of this world, can you?”

 

“That’s why you’re using Zhang Xu’s body.”

 

“Otherwise, you would have simply erased Lele.”

 

The axe in Gao Shi’s hand surged in size, growing to the height of a man in the blink of an eye. Ying Bujie lowered his gaze and drew the Wheel of Dharma from his wide sleeves; the space behind him began to warp faintly.

 

“Now that you are inhabiting a mortal body, what powers can you wield besides those abilities of bewitchment and intimidation?”

 

##

---