Arc 2.23 The Planting of the desire

To achieve your goals, you need power, and nobody would easily give you power, you have to take it, crawl toward it. Only when it is firmly in your heart can you relax? This was a lesson Feng Mian learnt very early.

As for the rules, they were only set to shackle and confine the weak, whereas the strong stood above the rules and no one would voice out criticism when they trampled and broke the rules. This was an unwritten law, a hidden rule that existed everywhere in the world.

The day that Feng Mian's mother had died was one he could not forget easily. That day, she had succeeded with the blade. Feng Mian had changed into a human, he soaked a rag in water and first cleaned the blade that was stained with blood, only that instead of the bloody trail of droplets that covered the house, it was a pool of blood.

He was not discouraged, his stomach rumbled as he mopped the blood till the whole floor shone. He took the thin blanket and tried to cover the woman but her body was cold. Very cold.

His mother was dead, he did not cry, he leaned against the bed, not sure of what to do or where to go. It was almost two days when he heard a bell ringing and someone opened the door.

The man was a little illusory and he wore a black robe with his hair tied into a bun. He walked straight to the bed and frowned, "How on earth did she hide this place this well?" The soul floated out and he tied the soul-locking chain around her. 

"Are you the Yama king?" A voice asked and the eyes of the ghost emissary widened. He looked closely only to see a child at the corner of the bed. It had taken him two days to find the soul of this woman, don't tell him that this child had been with the dead body. 

"You can see me? You are quite talented. I am not the Yama king child. Far from it." He held the soul chain tightly as he waited for the child to burst into tears or beg for his mother's life back.

"Would she be happy in her next life?" The ghost emissary looked at the book before him. Su Yan is 167 years old. It detailed her glorious life as the saint of the Su Sect as well as the misfortune that befell her. It also wrote of neglect, abuse and suicide.

"She killed herself, it is a sin of murder.  She abused you and killed your light, it is a sin of murder. She would be sent to the Abyssal court but from all the souls I have ferried across, she won't have a good life in her next life." His voice was low so as not to frighten the child.

"It is my fault. It was because of me. I want her to be happy. How do I do that?"

The ghost emissary looked around the decrypt room, memories that he had long forgotten resurfaced, cold nether worldly eyes softened, "Follow me then. To control the souls in the Netherworld, you have to become an official first."

The Netherworld was Hell in the absence of the Netherworld Emperor. Feng Mian had been dumped at the entrance by the ghost emissary and he had to find his way. He had fought like crazy, for centuries on end, he had come so close to death before he finally attained his position as the Guardian of the Six Paths of Reincarnation, and then he had found his mother's soul and reincarnated her into a good life. 

Power was supreme. That was what he thought. When he met his father, he had thought he was definitely right. His heart had shuddered as his soul trembled instinctively. He was still too far away. The two cultivation realms that separated him and his father were not something that he could surmount easily. It was simple, to overthrow and destroy the Heavenly Emperor, then he had to be stronger. Feng Mian's fixation on power continued to grow stronger and stronger.

But it was after his conversation with Qin Shen that the obsession turned to an inner down, forever entangling him. To keep Shen Jiyu, he was too weak, he was far too weak, he needed power. 

"A concubine? Qin Shen, do not go too far." Feng Mian gritted his teeth as he stood up from the seat. He did not want to be insulted here of all places. 

"Too far. Feng Mian, I feel like I am being generous to you. The kind of blood that runs through your veins, do you think that I don't know." Qin Shen leaned against the wall. He wore simple clothes with a bamboo scroll in his hand, his eyes were extremely clear and divine light faintly flowed between his brows. Leaning against the wall, an aura that was holy and pure surrounded him. It was  like a lotus that stood aloof amidst a filthy world.

It made Feng Mian shrink back as he clenched his fist tightly. Qin Shen did not say it but Feng Mian felt it clearly. There were two different people from two different worlds. 

"You are looking down on me." Feng Mian also tore his gentle mask and started at Qin Shen. His silver eyes were sharp, his gaze was poisonous, he narrowed on Qin Shen like a cobra who had found its prey. 

Qin Shen was not daunted, the light on his brows seemed to glow even more and the bamboo scroll in his palm opened up in defense, "Yes. I understand people like you. I would give you advice, Marquis Feng. Set your fangs on someone else, Shen Jiyu is not someone you can dream of, talkless of someone you can scheme against."

Feng Mian's body shook and he laughed, "Hahaha!" His laughter echoed in the room causing Qin Shen's face to crack as he frowned. 

"Young Master Qin Shen is truly a talented immortal of the Sage Dao. This one is honoured to meet you but I have to go and chat with my fiance about our Dao Companion ceremony."

"Feng Mian!"

"Young master Qin Shen, a desire too strong would give birth to resentment down the road. A heart too stubborn builds inner demons and leads to cultivation deviation. You are one of the top cultivators of the Sage Path, surely you know this." After saying this, he closed the door. 

He walked a few steps before he leaned on the pillar, another wall, another block, another powerful fortress to defeat. 

"Feng Mian!" Shen Jiyu appeared before him, those blue eyes shone with joy, "My Beloved!  Where have you been? My friend Qin Shen has finally left seclusion and came to visit. Come, He would be delighted to meet you! "

Feng Mian smiled gently and took the outstretched hand, "Then, Your Grace, you have to introduce us."

He was light. He was warm. Like the sun to the night sky, like rain to the barren lands, Feng Mian did not want to let go. He needed power, he did not have a powerful background or friend. He had nothing to compete with the flies that fettered about Shen Jiyu, he needed power. 

But the other was too stubborn, too proud. If you force him, he would resist. Even when he gained the power, he lost him. 

Basil felt a sharp pain in his muddled state as if something was being ripped out.