Like a Long-Lost Friend

"Jing Hui, come take a look," Chen Zhou said.

Jing Hui walked over and crouched down beside the others.

"Do you recognize this face?" Chen Zhou asked.

Jing Hui stared at the tiny face for a long time.

The lips of the human-face sore were still moving, constantly calling out his name.

Fearing that Jing Hui wouldn't understand Chen Zhou's words, Plague Rat explained, "The human-face sores used to be creations of the Plague-Eating Stove. You died early, so you probably haven't seen them."

"They have a distinct characteristic. No matter how much you rot, even if the original body is unrecognizable and not even a scrap of bone is left, the sores that grow will always look exactly like the person did when they were alive."

Jing Hui wavered, his brow furrowing as he stared at the face.

It looked familiar.

Very familiar.

But he couldn't quite remember.

He searched desperately through his memories, cycling through every face he could recall.

Tianchi Province was far too large. He had protected it for a millennium and seen countless living beings.

There were those he had saved, those who lived under his protection, and those he had killed.

But this face...

"I..." Jing Hui's voice was strained. "I cannot remember."

Plague Rat clicked his tongue. "Old man, you're quite heartless. This person has been dead for a thousand years and is still calling your name, yet you don't even recognize them."

Jing Hui felt a wave of shame, his fingers trembling slightly.

Chen Zhou looked at him and asked, "Was it one of your former subjects?"

Jing Hui hesitated. "It should be."

"Is it someone you killed?"

Jing Hui shook his head again. "I... I do not know."

"I lived for too long. I killed too many, and I saved too many."

"In the end, I can no longer distinguish one from another."

Chen Zhou asked again, "Is it a demon?"

Jing Hui was stunned.

He stared at the face once more, looking closely.

A pointed beak, narrow eyes, and strange markings on the forehead. Indeed, it was a demon.

There were many demons in Tianchi Province, but the insect types mostly lived near the royal city.

Jing Hui shuddered violently.

He remembered.

A thousand years ago, he had several demon armies under his command.

Among them was indeed a needle-beaked ant tribe. They weren't many in number, but every single one of them was fearless in the face of death.

They were small in stature and low in cultivation, but they were fast and excelled at scouting and message delivery.

They had two natural markings on their foreheads, which were traces left behind after their antennae had vestigially regressed.

Jing Hui couldn't remember the specific owner of this face. It seemed that all of them had died at the royal city, falling under his own slaughtering blade.

Back then, he had stood atop a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood. Looking at those tiny bodies, he had only one thought.

'Another group gone.'

Then he had turned and left to continue the next battle.

And now, a thousand years later, the face of a needle-beaked ant had grown out of this rotten flesh.

It was calling his name.

Over and over again.

Jing Hui crouched there, motionless.

He wanted to reach out and touch that face, but as soon as his hand moved, he pulled it back.

He didn't dare.

He didn't know with what feelings that needle-beaked ant had died.

'Did it hate him?'

'It should have hated him.'

Anyone would hate dying at the hands of the provincial lord they trusted most.

But if it was only hate, why call his name?

Why not scream "Die," or "You beast," or "Give me back my life"?

It only called for Jing Hui.

Over and over again.

Jing Hui trembled even more violently.

Plague Rat scratched his head, feeling a bit irritable. He spoke to the face.

"Hey, you've called his name for a thousand years. He's here."

"Do you have anything else to say?"

The face continued to call out.

"Jing Hui... Jing Hui... Jing Hui..."

Plague Rat waited for a long time but received no other response.

He sighed and stood up.

"Forget it. This thing has no consciousness at all. It's just a sore on a piece of rotten meat."

"It's been calling for a thousand years, but it doesn't even know what it's saying."

Jing Hui remained silent for a long time.

Then he looked up at Plague Rat.

"Little mouse."

"Yeah?"

"Give them a quick end."

Plague Rat was taken aback.

Jing Hui continued calmly, "Leaving him like this is also a form of torture."

Plague Rat nodded. "Fine."

Plague mist surged out, and that small human-face sore quickly festered and melted, eventually turning into a pool of pus.

But from within the pus, faint calls could still be heard.

"Jing Hui... Jing Hui... Jing Hui..."

Until they vanished completely.

Jing Hui stood there, watching the pus seep into the ground.

Then he turned to look at Chen Zhou.

"Lord, thank you."

Wu Gou suddenly spoke up. "Wait."

He extended a finger, and a faint Buddhist light glowed upon it.

The light seeped into the ground. A moment later, Wu Gou frowned.

"Strange."

Chen Zhou asked, "What is it?"

Wu Gou looked at his finger and said, "I chanted a Rebirth Mantra to see if I could guide them to the afterlife."

"But I discovered that there are no souls within these things at all."

Chen Zhou raised an eyebrow.

Wu Gou continued, "The Rebirth Mantra only works on souls. Even if only a wisp of a remnant soul remained, there would be some reaction."

"At the very least, I could send them to rebirth."

"But a hundred corpse patchwork is merely a mass of rotten meat."

Plague Rat scratched his head. "Wait, bald ass, what do you mean?"

Wu Gou looked at him. "It means they didn't become like this after death."

"They were refined into these things while they were still alive."

"After death, their souls were extracted, leaving behind only a mass of flesh."

Plague Rat was stunned, and Jing Hui swayed even more violently.

Chen Zhou narrowed his eyes. "Refined by someone?"

Wu Gou nodded and looked at Jing Hui.

"Benefactor, after you died back then, who in Tianchi Province could have done such a thing?"

Jing Hui was silent for a long time.

His subordinates had been refined alive without him even knowing, only to be personally killed by him afterward to become such things.

How agonizing that must have been.

Jing Hui didn't dare think further. He spoke with a trembling voice, "Perhaps... it was still Wan Xiu."

Chen Zhou asked, "Him again?"

Jing Hui nodded. "Only him."

Plague Rat was thoroughly confused.

"Wait, old man, what exactly is this Wan Xiu guy?"

Jing Hui shook his head. "I do not know."

"In truth, I don't know much."

"It wasn't until the struggle for the Golden Buddha a thousand years ago that I discovered such a person existed in Tianchi Province."

Plague Rat interrupted, "Wait, you were the lord of the province. How could you not know a living person was hiding in your own territory?"

Jing Hui gave a bitter smile. "I was busy suppressing the plague back then. How could I have time to worry about anything else?"

"A thousand years ago, before the Golden Buddha descended, there was a trial."

"Everyone who wanted to fight for the Golden Buddha was pulled into a special space."

"It was in that space that I met Wan Xiu for the first time."

"He wore a green robe and held a roll of bamboo slips. He looked like a scholar."

"He was refined and elegant, spoke softly, and smiled at everyone he met."

"He said his name was Wan Xiu, that he was a creation of Qing Lu, and that he had already been cultivating in Tianchi Province for ten thousand years."

"He said he had no interest in the Golden Buddha and was just there to watch the fun."

"He said, 'True Lord of Purity and Filth, do your best. I have high hopes for you.'"