Chapter 44: The Wound of Sorrow

After that fierce bout of delirious ramblings, whether it was due to Zhang Xiaofan’s inherent robust health or Biyao’s consoling words, his persistent high fever finally subsided somewhat. Zhang Xiaofan gradually regained his senses, becoming more alert, though his condition was still far from well, and he mostly needed to rest in bed.

One day, with nothing much to do, Biyao wandered aimlessly around the cave, eventually standing before the four lines left by Lady Jinling, carefully examining them. She couldn’t help but sigh. Zhang Xiaofan, who was sitting nearby, couldn’t resist asking, “Why are you sighing?”

Biyao huffed and replied, “I’m sighing for Lady Jinling. Such a talented and beautiful woman, yet she was let down by your kind, wretched men, suffering her whole life. It’s such a waste!”

Zhang Xiaofan was left speechless.

Biyao scrutinized the lines once more and suddenly exclaimed, “Eh!” She had noticed something odd: the last character of the final line, “ku” (suffering), had a deeply indented “kou” (mouth) at its bottom, markedly different from the other characters. With a flash of insight, she reached for the Huan He Bell at her waist and compared it to the indentation, finding it to be a perfect fit. She couldn’t help but cheer in delight.

Zhang Xiaofan, surprised, asked from behind, “What is it?”

Biyao turned to him with a smile, “There’s hope!”

Startled, Zhang Xiaofan instantly perked up, exclaiming, “Really?”

Biyao inserted the bell into the slot, and upon seeing no immediate reaction, tried turning it left and right. After a moment, a series of clicks and rumbles echoed through the cave as the stone wall shook. Startled, Biyao quickly backed away, holding the golden bell. A loud crash followed, and a layer of the smooth stone wall crumbled, revealing another layer beneath, inscribed with text much like the Heavenly Scriptures in the inner chamber.

At first, Zhang Xiaofan felt a surge of joy, but as he examined the wall, his face fell. It seemed the mechanism was merely a cover for the text, offering no way out. His spirits sank.

Biyao, however, focused intently on the inscriptions. The contents, so well-hidden by Lady Jinling, must surely be extraordinary. After a long while, her expression fluctuated between wonder and melancholy. She whispered, “So, this is the ‘Crazy Love Curse’.”

Growing impatient, Zhang Xiaofan came over to take a look, only to see the opening lines:

“In the netherworld, amidst demons and deities,

With my flesh and blood, I make this sacrifice.

Through three lifetimes and seven generations, I shall fall into the Underworld,

All for love, I shall not regret, even in death…”

He immediately recognized it as a dark, malevolent spell, but Biyao seemed more elated than troubled. Unable to contain his disdain, he grunted, “Does this tell us how to get out?”

Biyao paused, “No.”

Zhang Xiaofan responded coldly, “Then what use is it to learn it?”

Biyao fell silent, then said, “You don’t understand the origin of this ‘Crazy Love Curse.’ It’s an ancient curse passed down in our Holy Sect, but no one has ever been willing to use it.”

Curiosity piqued, Zhang Xiaofan inquired, “How so?”

Sighing, Biyao explained, “Legend has it that a wise female ancestor derived this curse from the Heavenly Scriptures, but it can only be mastered by women. It requires a woman’s essence and blood, transforming it into a powerful curse, unmatched in strength…”

Before she could finish, Zhang Xiaofan interrupted, his eyes full of scorn, “Then call it the ‘Blood Fury Curse’ if you will. This ‘Crazy Love Curse’—such demonic nonsense, trying to be poetic!”

Biyao’s face changed, but she soon calmed, saying softly, “You’re right. Even Lady Jinling, in the end, didn’t use it either.”

Zhang Xiaofan ignored her.

***

Over the following days, while Zhang Xiaofan spent his free time studying the Heavenly Scriptures, Biyao often stood transfixed before the inscribed words, which she called the ‘Crazy Love Curse.’

The first volume of the Heavenly Scriptures did not offer practical cultivation methods, but rather an intricate overview. However, Zhang Xiaofan, with his knowledge of both Buddhist and Taoist arts, managed to decipher it, though comprehension alone offered no breakthrough. The concept of merging Buddhist and Taoist principles remained a puzzle, as did the idea of integrating ‘Taiji Xuanqing Dao’ and ‘Dafan Bore’ simultaneously.

Despite the slim chance of survival, Zhang Xiaofan attempted to follow the teachings in the scriptures. Yet, combining the two great arts proved challenging, and within moments, his blood surged uncontrollably, forcing him to stop. Days passed with no progress.

Their greatest challenge, however, lay in the scarcity of food.

Though cultivators could traverse the heavens and seas, they were still mortal. Legends of ancient ascetics practicing fasting and abstaining from food were mere tales. Since entering the cave, Zhang Xiaofan had lost his rations, and though there was still water, the limited food Biyao had brought was quickly depleted. No matter how frugally they ate, their supplies ran out.

After an unknown period, perhaps just two days, Zhang Xiaofan and Biyao found themselves staring at empty satchels.

“Sigh,” Biyao sat on the platform, beside the pile of bones, feeling no discomfort. Demon Sect disciples, indeed, were not like ordinary people. But even now, she wore a troubled expression.

Zhang Xiaofan recovered quickly; his fever had almost subsided, and though he still felt weak, he was otherwise fine. Hearing Biyao’s sigh, he turned to look at her. Dressed in her green attire, she dangled her feet, the Huan He Bell jingling at her waist. If not for knowing her, he might have thought she was an innocent girl.

Yet, compared to when they first met, Biyao appeared more haggard. She maintained her appearance, washing daily at the small waterfall, but the days had taken a toll, and she had grown noticeably thinner. Zhang Xiaofan mused on the selflessness of this Demon Sect disciple, who had shared her limited food with him.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice Biyao looking at him. Seeing him staring, she blushed and scolded, “What are you looking at?”

Startled, Zhang Xiaofan quickly averted his gaze, stammering, “N-Nothing.”

Biyao, surprisingly, did not scold him. Instead, she sighed, “Trapped in this cave, near death, you needn’t be so reserved.”

Zhang Xiaofan turned back, seeing her weary but beautiful face. He blurted out, “When I was ill, you didn’t have to give me most of the food. You could have lived longer, maybe even…”

“Maybe what?” Biyao interrupted.

Zhang Xiaofan hesitated, then said, “Maybe you would have been saved.”

Shaking her head slightly, Biyao smiled faintly, “I don’t want to die, but I can’t bear waiting in this silent cave with a skeleton and a rotting corpse. By the time someone rescues me, I might go mad first.”

Zhang Xiaofan shuddered, agreeing that it was no way to live.

Biyao glanced at him, saying softly, “Are you afraid too?”

Straightening, Zhang Xiaofan declared, “Of course not!”

Biyao’s lips curled into a smile, her eyes softening. She spoke gently, “Will you do something for me?”

Frowning, Zhang Xiaofan asked, “What?”

Smiling, Biyao continued, “We’ve run out of food, and aside from some water, we have nothing. In a few days, we’ll starve to death.”

Zhang Xiaofan fell silent.

Her calm demeanor contrasted sharply with her next words, leaving Zhang Xiaofan pale with shock, “In a few days, if I seem to be at the end, kill me first.”

Zhang Xiaofan gaped, pointing at her, speechless.

Unfazed, Biyao continued, “After I die, if you wish to survive, eat my flesh. It should extend your life.”

Zhang Xiaofan nearly collapsed.

It took a long while for him to recover, thinking, “These Demon Sect disciples are truly monsters, capable of such things!” But Biyao’s calmness chilled him further. Stepping back, he stammered, “W-What are you saying?”

Biyao’s gaze softened, but to Zhang Xiaofan, it seemed more venomous than any poison.

“Don’t you want to return to Qingyun Mountain, to your dear Ling’er? Your fellow disciples are here in the ‘Ancient Bat Cave.’ The longer you live, the better their chances of finding you.” Biyao lowered her head, her tone remaining neutral.

Zhang Xiaofan, enraged, yelled, “Y-You expect me to eat…eat…eat…! You demon, how despicable, how vile! I-I-“

His rage stuttered into incoherence. Yet, Biyao expected this reaction, remaining calm and unperturbed. “Eat or not, as you will, but you must kill me first!”

“Again with this!” Zhang Xiaofan roared, “I won’t sink to your level, you devil! You gave me food, I owe you, but I won’t join you in evil!”

Biyao shook her head slowly, “No, I’m afraid.”

Habitually suspicious, Zhang Xiaofan retorted, “Liar, I won’t fall for your tricks…Wait, what did you say?”

Seemingly at a turning point, Biyao’s mood shifted, her face reflecting a fear Zhang Xiaofan had never seen before. Shaking her head as if to dispel a thought, she asked, “Do you know what it’s like to wait for death?”

Stunned, Zhang Xiaofan, sensing something deeper, inquired, “What?”

Biyao’s eyes flickered, as if losing control of her emotions, her voice hollow, “When I was six, my mother took me to the ‘Six Foxes Cave’ on Fox岐 Mountain. Unexpectedly, your righteous sect attacked, and the ‘Tian Yin Temple’ monk Pufang used the ‘Floating Pagoda Golden Bowl’ to collapse the cave, burying my grandmother, mother, and me alive.”

Zhang Xiaofan shivered, a chill spreading through him.

Biyao, lost in painful memory, stared blankly, her tone flat, “I cried, terrified. The small cave held us thanks to a few rocks. My grandmother, fatally wounded, died soon after. My mother and I, in the darkness, buried her and wept.”

“Buried deep underground, we had only a few drops of water from the rocks. Mother told me, ‘Xiao Yao, don’t be afraid, Father will save us.'”

Zhang Xiaofan listened, a sense of dread building.

“But the darkness never lifted, and Father never came. I was starving, crying, and Mother, holding me, reassured me, ‘Xiao Yao, don’t be afraid, Mother won’t let anything happen, Father will come!'”

Biyao’s face paled, continuing, “Father didn’t come, and I was famished. One day, Mother found a piece of meat…”

As Biyao spoke, Zhang Xiaofan saw her shiver.

“Starving, I ate without thought, then slept peacefully. Mother laughed in the darkness, periodically giving me more meat. But her voice grew weaker, and one day, when I called her, she didn’t answer. From then on, I waited for death alone in the darkness.”

Turning to Zhang Xiaofan, she continued, “Do you know what it’s like to wait for death? Do you know the smell of a decaying body? Do you know what it’s like to live in constant fear?” Each question made Zhang Xiaofan shudder.

Silent, Zhang Xiaofan barely breathed, until Biyao, as if waking from a dream, murmured, “One day, light pierced the darkness. Terrified, I hid. The light grew, and I heard Father calling. He jumped down, shielding me.”

“He didn’t look at me first, but at Mother. When I remembered, he blocked my view. But I saw his shock, and Uncle Qinglong, Uncle Baihu, and Uncle Xuanwu, all frozen in place.”

“Terrified, I called, ‘Father.’ He slowly turned, the uncles behind him, hiding Mother’s body. I asked, ‘Father, where is Mother?'”

Each word made Biyao tremble, as if reliving the scene.

“Father didn’t answer, but his face was terrifying. I knew, even young, that he wanted to kill me. But he didn’t, he saved me, carrying me from the cave. Before we left, I peeked down, seeing Mother’s hand, but…but…but…”

Biyao’s voice faded, her face white, eyes closed, and she collapsed. Zhang Xiaofan rushed to catch her, shocked by her cold, almost lifeless state.

Weak from illness, he struggled to lay her on the platform, noticing his own cold sweat. That night, Biyao remained unconscious, calling out to her parents. Roles reversed, Zhang Xiaofan now cared for her.

Clearly, this was a painful memory, and Biyao, in her nightmares, thrashed and sweated. Zhang Xiaofan, helpless, watched her finally find peace in his arms, tightly clutching him, even drawing blood. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave, letting her sleep, finding comfort in his embrace.