The Strategy of Washing Clean a Slag Shou

2.13

The moon above the carriage shone cold and bright. A faint ray of light filtered through the window flap and fell on Su Yang’s peacefully sleeping face.

Jing Cheng’s eyes were dark and inscrutable as he gently lifted Su Yang’s wrist. The silvery white bracelet glimmered with a faint, cold light. Just as he remembered.

Tianshan XuanSuo. Just one word, yet it meant the very difference between life and death.

Shaolin’s Great Master Jue Qing spent over thirty years of his life crafting the Tiānshān Lock from the Tiānshān Chain. And at this moment, the world’s most perfect manacle was lying quietly on Su Yang’s wrist.

The Tiānshān Chain signifies the suspension of life, and the Tiānshān Lock forged by the Great Master Jue Qing signifies the ending of life. Every day at sunset, when the yīn energy begins to rise, the bitter, artic chill accumulated over thousands of years on the snow capped peaks would sweep through the body in a devastating rampage. Only the Tiāngāng Qi is capable of holding it at bay.

All Su Yang knew was that he was required to obediently return to Jing Cheng’s side every day before sundown, unsuspecting that failure to comply to this agreement would result in his death.

But even if this agreement is fulfilled…..

Very lightly, Jing Cheng stroked Su Yang’s forehead. Beneath his fingertips, the skin was icy cold to the touch. Under the Tiānshān Lock’s daily gradual erosion, the boy had long lost the warmth of a normal human body. It was summer now, but Su Yang was eternally frozen in winter.

His body’s foundation has already been ruined. His life expectancy is unforeseeable.

The millennia old arctic chill of the snow capped mountains and the Tiāngāng Qi form an equilibrium by mutually restraining and reinforcing each other. But this delicate balance was at risk of being broken at anytime. The push and pull of these forces within  would one day destroy this already weak and fragile body.

What would he do, when that day comes.

Jing Cheng felt like his throat was held in a crushing grip. Back then it was he who had fastened the Tiānshān Lock onto Su Yang’s wrist. And now, he was the one who was filled with anguish and remorse.

Back then, he had not hesitated. He had been fixated on the thought of possessing the pampered and beautiful little puppy, but no longer held any delusions of loyalty. With the Tiānshān Lock, to betray Jing Cheng would mean death, he would never allow anyone else the chance to trample on his heart ever again.

What’s more, this child was Wu Xingde’s final gambling chip. So long as he held the boy in the palm of his hand, Wu Xingde was doomed to walk the path of failure.

Jing Cheng had convinced himself that it was the right decision. But now, he is no longer certain.

This little creature is innocent. He is so, so stupid, so foolish, he ought to be loved and pampered and protected. He should never have been involved in this power struggle, to be used as a chess piece in this conflict, and destined to die a cold and lonely death.

He must get the key back, the only key in the world.

Of these matters, Su Yang knew naught. To him, even though this silvery bracelet emitted a forbidding chill, he thought it harmless. Without Jing Cheng by his side, at most, he would have to endure being frozen, before sinking into a temporary state of dormancy. Just like a deep sleep, nothing more.

Su Yang was not afraid of sleeping. He only feared not waking up.

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The army continued marching South, but Su Yang did not see hide nor hair of Deputy General Cao. Not only that, Jing Cheng’s prized ferghana horse, Red Shadow, was also missing.