The Husky and His White Cat Shizun: Erha He Ta De Bai Mao Shizun Vol. 7

He was Chu Wanning, because I created him during the peaceful evening hour. As the temple bell tolled, he came to life beneath the dignified gazes of many gods and Buddhas. Thus I gave him his name.

All along, he had known; in his heart of hearts, he could tell. In Chu Wanning’s smile, in his earnestness; in his tolerance and gentleness; in his obstinate perseverance—he had always had evidence of a soul.

In this lifetime—in these two lifetimes—his greatest fortune had been to meet Chu Wanning, and his greatest misfortune had been to wrong Chu Wanning.

Anyone who’d ever done wrong, who’d ever sought to repent, would yearn for atonement like a fish yearned for water.

I just need him to be alive, to be mine—to have him in my grasp. I don’t care if he’s happy or if he hates me. None of that matters.” He paused. “As long as I can see him.”

“Chu Wanning, I hate you. You left me there alone.”

“Do you really have the heart to kill me?” He looked up. The hood fell back. It was as if a pail of ice water had been dumped over Chu Wanning’s head. He was engulfed in freezing cold. His ears rang; he couldn’t feel a thing. In that shadowed chamber, the man’s features were handsome, his face pale, and his smile curved with wicked obsession. He was a calamity, a demon. He grinned, baring white teeth. “Emperor Taxian-jun—Mo Ran, Mo Weiyu.”

The handwriting on that slip of paper had been neat and perfect, each stroke careful. It said: I wish for Luo Fenghua, Nangong Xu, and Nangong Liu to be friends forever. Sharing the same tangerine, splitting the same sweets, and climbing the same roof. From our coming of age, until our hair goes white.

Chu Wanning raised a hand, and a barrier sprang up between their group and the mysterious array. Nangong Si had died right before his eyes; he couldn’t stand to see more young cultivators lose their lives.

“Shizun... I’m begging you... Please pay attention to me... Please...”