A Chanting Night in the Clear River

Chapter 27

Chapter 27

On This Journey

Jiang Cheng didn't know how he made it back inside the Lotus Pier.

He was still dazed after climbing the stairs...

'Lan Wangji was killed by Wen Ning.'

...and entering his room.

'Wei Wuxian died in the hands of Jiang Wanyin.'

And even when he fell right onto the bed.

'Those who loved them wished they could return, even if only as a shadow or a dream.'

Jiang Cheng lay motionless on the bed for an extended period of time, panting heavily like a sick man's fitful breath.

Only one question lingered in his mind: 'But, why?'

'Why, why had I to hear it?'

He felt as if he had been transported back in time, experiencing the same feelings as before.

Agonizing pain burned through his chest, as though pierced by more than a thousand of sharp needles.

Jiang Cheng stayed collapsed for a while. He thought he cried as well. However, no matter how much he thrashed, screamed, and sobbed, the already-heard words could not be perceived unprecedented.

Clenching the sheets, Jiang Cheng looked at the vaulted ceiling. Before his eyes suddenly appeared Lan Wangji's smeared image, white robes coated in dirt and blood.

His mouth was moving, he was speaking to him, but it sounded muted to Jiang Cheng.

'...'

The man fell onto the ground.

He was as lifeless as the frozen moon, with grim features of despair.

Jiang Cheng killed Lan Wangji.

Jiang Cheng also remembered Wei Ying, who, after overcoming many obstacles, married the person she loved.

He remembers her morning gold smile. Sunny laughter, as incessant as a bird's chorus. Transient teasing remarks. Her comforting, soothing song.

Blinking, all was gone in an instant.

It was replaced with:

Taciturn lips. Laughter trounced by a sorrowful cry. Words barely audible. Song out of melody.

Slice!

She was splattered with scarlet liquid, it came mostly from her neck.

Jiang Cheng killed Wei Ying.

He remembered A-Yuan, the son of Lan Wangji and Wei Ying, who had received his courtesy name from him.

'Lan Sizhui'.

He was still so young then.

Only three years old.

He knew to giggle whenever he saw his father's sword. He could pronounce 'Muqin' and 'Fuqin' cutely with his small, not-yet-very-mature tongue. He knew how to approach them, holding their hands in each of his own.

Both his parents were ecstatic.

Rapturous, blissful.

The boy's third-year celebration was just a few days away.

Jiang Cheng deprived Lan Sizhui of his parents.

They should be living their 'happily ever after' if it weren't for Jiang Cheng...

His body was ravaged by an onslaught of sobs and tears as he thought and thought about it.

...He... he ruined a happy family.