UCS Chapter 70

Everything was shattering and reorganizing as Gao Shi was trapped deep in nightmares.

 

In his dreams, Gao Gusheng’s entire life passed before his eyes like a revolving lantern—from a babbling child to a dying youth. All the fragments involving Li Mochen were dug up.

 

The deceived Gao Gusheng looked at Li Mochen with reverence and gratitude, thinking this was his deity.

 

“Thank you, sir.”

 

After learning he’d been deceived, Gao Gusheng was filled with anger and despair as a contract was slapped before his eyes.

 

“You… lied to me…”

 

Li Mochen easily locked Gao Gusheng’s pair of slender wrists with one hand, raising them high above his head.

 

Unable to struggle, Gao Gusheng’s exquisite face was covered in tear tracks, his eyes full of despair.

 

“I’d rather die!”

 

In the spacious office, countless filthy hands reached toward the youth’s pale body, trying to break his straight spine.

 

“…”

 

At the piano, Gao Gusheng’s ten fingers leaped across the keys like fluttering butterflies. Music flowed like moonlight and water from his fingertips into the entire hall, while the gazes of those around him were as greedy as wild beasts.

 

He was pressed against his beloved piano, penetrated over and over again.

 

“…”

 

Golden chains locked his slender ankles, leaving red marks on his ankle that would accompany him until death.

 

[You are destined to be my caged canary, singing only for me in this lifetime.]

 

…

 

In that impoverished but warm orphanage, the second-hand old piano in the center of the hall was the only instrument Gao Gusheng could touch, and also the warmest memory for all the children in the orphanage.

 

He sat on the ground holding his face, looking up and listening to Director Mom playing moving little tunes and softly humming sweet songs.

 

When other children were playing with toys outside in the yard, he would quietly sneak into the hall.

 

He didn’t dare touch the piano, so he stood beside it with his hands behind his back, looking at the keys as if his gaze alone could make the keys jump by themselves.

 

Director Mom discovered him, so she smiled gently and lifted him onto the seat. She took his small hands and gently pressed them onto the piano keys.

 

From then on, he formed a bond with the piano.

 

In that not-so-spacious hall, in that small orphanage, with the sunlight outside casting shadows of the window frames onto the piano through every spring, summer, autumn, and winter, he learned one piano piece after another beside Director Mom.

 

Director Mom had sighed many times, saying what a pity it was—if Gao Gusheng weren’t in the orphanage but could receive guidance from famous teachers, he would definitely have a place in the future music world.

 

But Gao Gusheng didn’t think it was a pity.

 

He deeply loved the piano, deeply loved the orphanage, deeply loved the gentle and kind Director Mom.

 

He had always thought piano music was comfort and his salvation.

 

But he didn’t know that when he worked part-time playing piano at the coffee shop, his slender fingers falling on the keys like fluttering butterflies flew into the piano music and into many people’s dreams.

 

He didn’t know that his straight spine and eyes that showed optimism and strength would make so many dark minds think of destruction.

 

He didn’t know that the meeting at the orphanage wasn’t his first encounter with Li Mochen—their real first meeting was at this coffee shop.

 

Li Mochen sat in his car while he sat by the piano. Li Mochen saw his blurred silhouette through layers of glass.

 

Just that one glance became the shackles that bound him for life.

 

Li Mochen was possessed and stopped the car. He pushed open the glass door, and accompanied by the sound of wind chimes, he walked into the coffee shop to the tune of “The Blue Danube,” also walking into Gao Gusheng’s life.

 

[Such a beautiful bird.]

 

[I want him to sing only for me.]

 

Later, after being brought back to the mansion, Gao Gusheng would play piano pieces for Li Mochen every day.

 

Gao Gusheng played many pieces, but most often, it was “The Blue Danube” from when they first met.

 

Gao Gusheng didn’t know why Li Mochen made him play this piece over and over again.

 

In the villa that imprisoned him, he played this piece from sunrise to dusk, from being a privately owned canary to a plaything for everyone’s entertainment.

 

Li Mochen brought him to banquets, where greedy gazes dragged him into disgusting quagmires. On that very day, his piano was stained with filth that could never be washed clean, and he could never play piano again.

 

The canary’s wings were broken, and in its struggles, its voice was also silenced.

 

The piano behind him pressed painfully against his waist. He looked at the crystal chandelier on the ceiling, so bright it was blinding. Before his eyes flashed Director Mom’s graying hair, the children’s happy faces, and countless springs and autumns spent with the piano.

 

Finally, everything shattered in chaotic, discordant piano notes.

 

He couldn’t live on, yet couldn’t die either.

 

All the scenes froze in Gao Gusheng’s hollow gaze. He was so sad, yet couldn’t even shed tears anymore.

 

Gao Shi’s fingers trembled slightly. He wanted to stroke Gao Gusheng’s head, but touched only empty air.

 

In the dream, he was merely a ghost observing everything from the sidelines.

 

Heartbroken and powerless—nothing more than that.

 

Calm down.

 

Calm down.

 

Gao Shi closed his eyes, forcing himself to detach from his overwhelming grief and anger.

 

His brain began analyzing each scene, analyzing Li Mochen’s changes.

 

He had to find out what exactly that dark golden light emanating from Li Mochen was.

 

In front of Gao Gusheng, Li Mochen seemed never to have exposed any details that were abnormal for humans. But through the passage of time, Gao Shi could still see from the details that the Li family’s growth was accelerating.

 

Especially after buying that piece of land, the Li family perfectly achieved transformation and began developing into multiple fields.

 

By the time Gao Gusheng died, the Li family had developed into an unshakeable behemoth.

 

Upon careful investigation, it wasn’t hard to discover that the Li family’s rise to fortune was quite legendary.

 

Especially that President Li in the dream—his luck seemed exceptionally good, always able to find bargains that others couldn’t.

 

Like that piece of land.

 

In the dream, he could always buy shares in companies no one was optimistic about at low prices, and later those companies brought him extremely considerable profits one by one.

 

For another example, he once bought a piece of “waste stone” that no one was optimistic about at a low price, only to discover it contained the finest ice-type imperial green jade.

 

Since Gao Shi was following Gao Gusheng’s perspective, he didn’t know much about these matters, but from fragments overheard from others and Li Mochen’s increasingly luxurious living environment, such things probably happened frequently around Li Mochen.

 

Gao Shi could be certain that the circle of dark golden light around Li Mochen was definitely not the golden light of merit.

 

Especially with the threads of blood mixed in the dark golden light—it didn’t look like an auspicious thing at all.

 

Gao Shi didn’t believe that Li Mochen had deep merit and explosive luck.

 

The greater possibility was that he was keeping something by his side.

 

Something that could change fortune, something that could make people wealthy—could he be raising little ghosts?

 

Gao Shi recalled rumors he’d heard.

 

As spiritual energy gradually recovered, those strange tales from old storybooks were gradually becoming reality.

 

But that wasn’t right—if he was raising little ghosts, the Spirit Management Bureau couldn’t possibly fail to detect it.

 

Moreover, according to the storybooks, people who raise little ghosts always suffer backlash. However, in the dream, Li Mochen not only didn’t suffer backlash but grew stronger day by day, as if… as if he had completely merged with whatever was secretly helping him.

 

Or rather, as if Li Mochen had devoured it.

 

Li Mochen was domineering, independent, and severely paranoid, not allowing a second voice around him. Someone like him would never submit to anyone.

 

If the thing beside him that kept giving him hints was alive, he would definitely kill it completely, then find a way to absorb its abilities.

 

From the dream, two possibilities could be seen.

 

First, that thing was an inanimate object, and after Li Mochen used it repeatedly, he gradually gained that thing’s abilities.

 

Second, Li Mochen killed that thing and then devoured its power.

 

Given Li Mochen’s suspicious nature, he couldn’t possibly accept having something with consciousness merge with him.

 

So if that thing was inanimate, they could use other means to strip it from Li Mochen.

 

If that thing was alive, that would be even better—given Li Mochen’s cautious nature, he would definitely have prepared early with items that could deal with that thing. They just needed to use Li Mochen as a clue to find items that could restrain that thing.

 

If he remembered correctly, Li Mochen had bought quite a few houses in recent years, not for commercial use—the stated reason was residence.

 

Gao Shi’s mind was clear. The moment he understood, all the scenes before his eyes turned to ashes.

 

He woke up.

 

Before even opening his eyes, he called out, “Go search Li Mochen’s house for secret rooms! There must be something there that can deal with Li Mochen!”

 

“Alright.”

 

The voice was cool and clear.

 

Only then did Gao Shi open his eyes. He was shocked to discover he was lying in Ying Bujie’s arms, and when he looked around, everything in his field of vision was actually clouds and sky.

 

Ying Bujie held water, placing the rim at Gao Shi’s lips. Gao Shi instinctively opened his mouth, and sweet, warm water flowed into his throat, gradually calming his restless heart.

 

“We’ll arrive soon.”

 

He sat up, his eyes gradually widening. Even with all his experience, he was momentarily speechless.

 

They were actually flying in mid-air.

 

Yes, just like in cultivation novels—sword flying.

 

Beneath their feet was a giant sword. The size of this sword didn’t seem fixed, because when he tentatively reached toward the edge, he found he couldn’t touch it—his hand was always five or six centimeters short of the edge, ensuring he wouldn’t fall off.

 

“Daoist Ying, this…”

 

Flowing clouds passed by their sides.

 

Gao Shi looked up. The long sword cleaved through the void, clouds rapidly streaming past on both sides. This scene actually overlapped with his dreams.

 

Ying Bujie’s long hair scattered behind him like black mist. For a moment, Gao Shi couldn’t distinguish whether this was dream or reality.

 

Ying Bujie’s hand gently pressed on the sword’s surface as he said, “This is my… sword.”

 

“We’ve arrived.”

 

Ying Bujie moved closer to Gao Shi, saying softly, “Pardon the intrusion.”

 

He wrapped his arm around Gao Shi’s waist. Gao Shi felt a sensation of weightlessness, and the next second they appeared on the ground.

 

Before them stood a three-story villa.

 

This villa wasn’t Li Mochen’s publicly announced residence, nor was it his regular private dwelling, and it wasn’t the villa from the dream where Gao Gusheng had been imprisoned.

 

Ying Bujie said, “This villa is the most special—it sits on a yang-gathering location with extremely heavy yang energy, where ghosts and demons cannot exist.”

 

Though he hadn’t spoken a word, the two seemed to understand each other’s thoughts as if their minds were connected.

 

This feeling of understanding without explanation rarely brought some relief to Gao Shi’s suppressed and anxious mood.

 

Ying Bujie pulled him along, placing one hand on the door, and the next second they were already inside the house.

 

Though somewhat inappropriate given the circumstances, Gao Shi instinctively stared at Ying Bujie’s hand.

 

“Daoist Ying, under normal circumstances, entering someone’s residence without permission is not allowed in society.”

 

Gao Shi added, “However, the current situation isn’t normal—we do have a search warrant.”

 

Ying Bujie turned back to blink at him, looking pure and innocent, as if he weren’t the one who had just picked the lock barehanded.

 

Gao Shi felt his heart skip a beat from that blink, thinking it must be because it was too hot.

 

Upon entering, Gao Shi immediately felt a wave of warmth.

 

Initially, Gao Shi thought this warmth was due to the villa being on a yang-gathering location, causing higher temperatures. But in just the time it took to speak one short sentence, this warmth became even more intense.

 

This warmth didn’t seem to act directly on his body, but slowly spread outward from between his brows, creating an extremely comfortable warm sensation.

 

Gao Shi felt his head was slightly swollen and his brow area itchy, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

 

He looked up toward the depths of the villa, feeling as if something there was calling to him.

 

He looked at Ying Bujie, who nodded at him.

 

“Follow your instincts.”

 

So Gao Shi followed the feeling in his heart, walking slowly forward. He passed through door after door, through long and short corridors, finally stopping at the very center of the entire villa.

 

This villa was very large with a very peculiar design.

 

The center of the ceiling had been broken through and renovated in the style of glass found in sunlight conservatories. The middle was opened up so sunlight could shine through the top floor’s glass all the way down to the ground floor.

 

And bathed in the center of the sunlight was a display stand.

 

Gao Shi walked toward the display stand. As he approached, that feeling of being called grew stronger.

 

Finally, Gao Shi reached the side of the display stand.

 

There were no alarm devices set up around this display stand.

 

At first, Gao Shi had doubts, worried this might be a trap. But when he clearly saw what was on the display stand, he instantly understood why there were no security devices around—

 

They weren’t needed.

 

On the display stand was an axe.

 

This axe wasn’t large—from end to end it was only about the size of an adult’s palm.

 

It looked quite ordinary too—just a simple wooden handle and a dark golden axe head.

 

But this small axe carried a thick aura of murderous intent. Only by severing the heads of millions of people, using human blood and lives as fuel, could such an axe be forged.

 

The killing aura from this axe alone could match thousands of security systems.

 

When Gao Shi saw this small axe, a warm feeling of familiarity suddenly arose in his heart, as if what lay before him wasn’t a small axe, but an old friend who had accompanied him for many years.

 

He slowly extended his hand. The small axe seemed to respond—its luster appeared to grow brighter.

 

A flash of light passed through Ying Bujie’s eyes. He instinctively took half a step forward, but then his gaze returned to stillness, becoming that soul-lacking, unworldly Daoist Ying again.

 

Gao Shi slowly grasped the axe handle.

 

In that instant, golden light flowed across the axe, all of it surging into Gao Shi’s body.

 

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