Chapter 1: This Seat is Dead
Original Translations: Crafted with Care, No Unauthorized Reposting Allowed.
When Mo Ran was not yet an emperor, he was always called a dog.
The townspeople called him a dog, his cousin called him a dog, and his godmother was the worst, calling him a dog's son.
Of course, there have always been some dog-related descriptions, not too bad. For example, his love affairs, always with a bit of feigned anger, angry at him on the couch waist strength like a male dog, sweet words on the mouth seduced people's souls, under the body of the fierce weapon to take the life of Qingqing, but then go to show off with others, so that everyone in the tile restaurant know that he Mo Weiyu man handsome tool fierce, tried the gourmets full of satisfaction, not tried the heart and soul shaking.
I have to say, these guys are right, Mo Ran does look like a silly dog with a wagging tail.
It was not until he became emperor of the Xianxia realm that such epithets suddenly disappeared.
One day, a small fairy gate from the far frontier gave him a milk dog.
The dog was grey and white, with three clusters of fire on its forehead, a bit like a wolf. But it was only as big as a melon and had a fat, round head, but it thought it was so powerful that it ran all over the hall, trying several times to climb the high steps to see the man who was sitting at ease on the imperial throne, but it failed because its legs were too short.
Mo Ran stared at the hairy mass of strength but no brain for a short while, and then suddenly laughed, cursing in a low voice as he did so, the dog.
The puppy soon grows into a big dog, the big dog becomes an old dog, and the old dog becomes a dead dog.
Mo Ran's eyes were closed and opened again. Thirty-two years had passed since his life had been marked by ups and downs, ups and downs.
He was tired of playing with everything and felt bored and lonely. Over the years there were fewer and fewer familiar people around him, and even the three fires had gone to their fate, so he felt it was about time to call it a day.
Pinch off a crystal-rich grape from the fruit tray and slowly peel off the purple skin.
He moves with the ease and skill of a Qiang king in a tent, peeling off the garments of a Huji, with a certain laziness of intent. The flesh of the fruit trembled delicately at his fingertips, the pulp oozing away, the purple pale, as if a goose had come with a dense haze, as if a begonia had gone to sleep in spring.
Again, it looks like dirty blood.
He swallowed the cloying sweetness in his mouth while examining his fingers, then lazily lifted his eyes.
The hour is almost up, he thought.
It's time for him to go to hell too.
Mo Ran, in Chinese, is known as Wei Yu.
The first monarch of the Xianxia realm.
It takes more than great skill to get to this position, it takes a rock-solid skin.
Before him, the ten major sects of the Xianxia Realm were divided into two groups, with the dragon and the tiger at their mercy. They were all in conflict with each other, and no one could change the world with their own power. Even if they wanted to give themselves a title for fun, they would have been afraid of the pen of the historian for fear of being cursed for a thousand years.
But Mo Ran is different.
He's a rogue.
What others were afraid to do, he eventually did. Drinking the spiciest and best wine on earth, marrying the most beautiful woman in the world, first becoming " Fairy Tramper ", the ally of the immortal world, and then declaring himself emperor.
All the people fell on their knees.
He killed all those who would not kneel, and during his years of domination, the Xianxia world was a scene of bloodshed and grief. The Confucianism School, one of the ten schools of Confucianism, lost its entire school to death.
Later, even Mo Ran's mentor was defeated in a duel with him and was taken back to the palace and imprisoned by his former pupil, whose whereabouts no one knows.
What was once a great and beautiful river and sea was suddenly in chaos.
Mo Ran, the dog emperor, had never read a few books and was a man of many taboos, so during his reign there were many absurdities, including the number of the year.
The name of his first three years as emperor, Wang Ba, came to him while he was sitting by a pond feeding fish.
For the second three years, the year was called "Quack" because he heard frogs singing in his courtyard on a summer day and decided that this was a heavenly inspiration that he could not afford to let down.
The learned folk thought that there could be no more disastrous year name than "wangba" and "qua", but they knew nothing about Mo Weiyu after all.
In the third year, the local community began to stir, whether it was Buddhist, Taoist or spiritual cultivators, those who could not bear the violence of Mo Ran, the righteous people of the jianghu began to revolt one after another.
So, this time, Mo Ran thought hard about it and drafted numerous names, and came up with a name that would shock the world and make the world cry.
The meaning is good, and the two words that the first emperor came up with in his head were meant to be a "cessation of war". The only thing is that it is a bit awkward for the people to say.
It is especially awkward to listen to if you can't read or write.
The first year was called the first year of the halberd strike, which sounds like the year of the chicken.
The second year is called the second year of the chicken handle.
The chicken put in three years.
Some people have closed their rooms to scold: "simply absurd, how not to come to a halberd strike Chen Nian later see men also do not have to ask each other noble geng, just ask each other is a few years Chen chicken put a hundred-year-old man is called a hundred years Chen chicken put"
After three years of hard work, the year of the "halberd" was finally coming to an end.
The people of the world waited in fear for the Emperor's fourth year, but this time Mo Ran had no intention of taking it, for in this year, the Xianxia realm was finally in full turmoil. For nearly a decade, the warriors and warriors of the Xianxia world had been holding back their anger and had finally united to form an army of a million people to force the court of the First Emperor Mo Weiyu.
The Xianxia world does not need an emperor.
Such a tyrant was especially not needed.
After months of bloodshed, the rebels finally arrived at the foot of the Mountain of Death and Life. This mountain, located in the Middle Shu Area, is a mountain of constant cloud and mist, with Mo Ran's palace standing at the top.
The arrow was on the string and the final blow to overthrow the court was all that was left. But it was also the most dangerous of all, and with victory in sight, the allied forces, who had been on the same side, were beginning to have second thoughts. With the old emperor gone and a new order to be re-established, no one wanted to expend their own energy at this time, and so no one was willing to be the first to take the vanguard and attack the mountain.
They all feared that this cunning and vicious tyrant would suddenly descend from the sky, revealing his beastly white teeth and gutting those who dared to lay siege to his palace.
Someone with a sullen face said, " Mo Weiyu's magic is profound and he is insidious, we should be cautious and not fall into his path."
The generals echoed the sentiment.
At that moment, however, a young man with extremely handsome eyebrows and a prideful and extravagant face stepped out. He was dressed in a light silver and blue armour, with a lion's head belt and a high ponytail, with an elaborate silver hair clasp at the base.
The youth's face was ugly as he said, "We've reached the foot of the mountain, and you're still here dawdling and refusing to go up, do you want to wait for Mo Weiyu to climb down by himself what a bunch of cowardly and fearful losers"
As soon as he said that, a circle of people around him exploded.
"How does Lord Xue speak? What do you mean by having little guts? In all military matters, caution is the best. If all of them are as careless as you are, who will be responsible if something goes wrong"
Immediately, someone else mocked, "Oh, Lord Xue is the pride of the heavens, we are just mortals. Since the pride of the heavens can't wait to compete with the emperor of the human world, why don't you just go up the mountain yourself first? We'll set up a banquet at the bottom of the mountain and wait for you to go and bring Mo Weiyu's head down, how good would that be?"
These words were spoken in an aggressive manner. An old monk of the allied forces hastened to stop the young man who was about to get angry, changed his face to that of a country squire, and advised him in a gentle voice.
"Please listen to me, Mr. Xue. I know that you and Mo Weiyu have a deep personal grudge. But the matter of forcing the palace is of great importance, so you must think of everyone and not act out of anger."
More than a decade ago, he was a teenage sensation and the pride of the world.
Yet time has changed and the tiger has fallen, and he has to endure the ridicule and mockery of these people just to go up the mountain to see Mo Ran again.
Xue Meng's face twisted in anger and his lips trembled, but he tried his best to hold it down and asked, "And when, exactly, are you going to wait?"
"Let's at least see the movement again."
"Yeah, what if Mo Weiyu has an ambush?"
The old monk who had made peace with the situation earlier also advised, "Don't be anxious, Sir Xue, we have already reached the foot of the mountain, so it is better to be careful. Anyway, Mo Weiyu is trapped in the palace and cannot come down from the mountain. He is now at the end of his rope, and he can't make it, so why should we act rashly just for the sake of the moment? There are so many people at the bottom of the mountain, so many noblemen, and who can be responsible if we lose our lives"
Xue Meng was steeped in rage, "Responsible then I ask you, who can be responsible for my master's life Mo Ran He has kept my master under house arrest for ten years a whole decade right now my master is on the mountain, how can you make me wait"
As soon as Xue Meng mentioned his mentor, the faces of all the people were a little embarrassed.
Some people look ashamed, others glance left and right and mumble.
"Ten years ago, Mo Ran crowned himself Fairy Tramper and slaughtered all the 72 cities of the School of Confucianism, not to mention the nine remaining schools. Later, Mo Ran was crowned emperor and wanted to wipe you out.
Eventually someone coughed twice and said softly, "Sir Xue, don't be angry. We all feel guilty and grateful for what happened to Master Chu. But as you said, he has been under house arrest for ten years, so if there was anything, it would have been long overdue.
"Yeah fuck you right."
The man's eyes widened, "How can you swear"
"Why don't I scold your master for putting himself out of the way of death to actually save the likes of you?"
He couldn't say it anymore, a lump in his throat, "I'm not worth it for him."
At the end of her speech, Xue Meng jerked her head away, her shoulders shaking slightly, holding back her tears.
"We didn't say we wouldn't save Master Chu."
"That's right, everyone remembers Master Chu's goodness in their hearts and hasn't forgotten it. If you speak like this, Sir Xue, you're really putting an ungrateful label on everyone, which people can't afford."
"But then again, Mo Ran is also Master Chu's disciple," someone said softly, "If you ask me, in fact, when a disciple does something wrong, he should also be responsible as the master. What is there to complain about?"
This was a bit mean and was immediately stopped by someone saying, "What kind of crazy talk is that? Keep your mouth shut."
He also turned to Xue Meng and advised him in a pleasant manner.
"Sir Xue, don't be in a hurry."
Xue Meng violently interrupted his words, his eyes wide with anger, "How can I not be in a hurry you guys are standing around talking, but that's my master my I haven't seen him for so many years I don't know if he's dead or alive, I don't know how he's been, what do you think I'm standing here for"
He gasped, his eyes red: "Are you going to wait so long that Mo Weiyu will come down on his own and kneel before you and beg for mercy?"
"Apart from the Master, I don't have a single person in the world I can be close to." Xue Meng broke away from the old monk's tug on his coat and said in a dumb voice, "If you don't go, I will go alone."
Leaving these words behind, he went up the mountain alone, one man and one sword.
The cold, damp wind was mixed with the sound of a thousand leaves, and the fog was like the whispering and rustling of countless evil spirits in the mountains and forests.
Xue Meng walked alone to the top of the hill, where Mo Ran's majestic palace was lit by peaceful candlelight in the night. He suddenly saw three graves standing in front of Tongtian Tower, and as he approached, he saw that the first one was covered in grass and had a dog-eared tombstone with the words 'Tomb of Qingzhen Guiji'.
The second tomb, opposite the 'Queen of Steam', is a new one, with the earth only just covered and the monument chiselled with the words 'Tomb of Empress Song of the Oil Blast'.
If it were more than ten years ago, Xue Meng would have laughed out loud at this ridiculous sight.
At that time, he was under the same master as Mo Ran, who was the most entertaining pupil, and even though Xue Meng had a long-standing dislike of him, he would occasionally be amused by him.
The steamed consort and the oiled empress, I don't know what the hell it is, but it's probably the tombstone that Mo Daizi put up for his two wives, so similar in style to "Wang Ba", "Quack" and "Halberd Strike". But why he gave these two posthumous names to his queen is unknown. It is not known why he gave these two posthumous names to his queen.
Xue Meng looks towards the third tomb.
In the night, the mound was open, with a coffin lying inside, but there was no one in it, and the tombstone was unmarked with ink.
In front of the grave, there is a pot of pear blossom white, a bowl of cold red oil cod roe and a few plates of spicy dishes, all of which Mo Ran likes to eat herself.
Xue Meng stared in awe for a moment, but suddenly she was shocked, did Mo Weiyu not want to resist and had already dug his own grave, determined to die?
Cold sweat beaded.
He didn't believe it. Mo Ran, a man who has always fought to the end, who has never known what it means to be tired or to give up, and who, given his way of acting, is bound to fight to the end against the rebels, would not
What has Mo Ran seen and what has happened in these ten years of standing at the pinnacle of power.
No one knows.
Xue Meng turns and disappears into the night, sweeping towards the brightly lit Wushan Palace.
Inside Wushan Palace, Mo Ran's eyes are closed and his face is pale.
Xue Meng guessed correctly that he was determined to die. The tomb outside was dug for him. An hour ago, he dispatched his servants with a teleportation technique and took the poison himself. His cultivation was so high that the poison dissipated in his body extraordinarily slowly, and so the pain of his internal organs being eaten away became more and more profound and vivid.
"The door of the temple opened with a creak.
Mo Ran did not look up, but said hoarsely, " Xue Meng . It's you, isn't it? Are you here?"
On top of the golden tiles in the hall, Xue Meng stands alone, his ponytail scattered and his light armour shimmering.
A reunion of former schoolmates. Mo Ran, however, is not very expressive as he sits sideways with his cheek, a curtain of thin, thick lashes falling in front of him.
Everyone said he was a hideous demon with three heads and six arms, but he was actually a very good-looking man, with a softly curved nose, thin lips and a sweet, gentle nature.
When Xue Meng saw the look on his face, he knew that he had indeed taken the poison. He didn't know how he felt, but he wanted to say something, but in the end he clenched his fist and asked, "Where is the master?"
Xue Meng said sternly, "I ask you, where is your master, where is mine, where is our master"
"Oh." Mo Ran hummed softly, finally slowly opening his eyes, dark with some violet, to fall on Xue Meng across the layers of years.
"By all accounts, you and your master have not seen each other for two years, since we parted at Kunlun Snow Walk Palace."
Mo Ran said, with a slight smile.
" Xue Meng, do you miss him?"
"Cut the crap and give him back to me."
Mo Ran looked at him calmly, fighting back the gut wrenching pain in his stomach, his mouth mocking as he leaned back against the back of the emperor's chair.
There was a blackness in front of his eyes and he almost felt as if he could clearly feel his internal organs twisting, dissolving and turning into foul-smelling blood.
Mo Ran said languidly, "And you're stupid. You don't have the brains to think about how I would allow my master and I to live in this world with such a deep hatred."
"You" Xue Meng suddenly lost all his blood, his eyes widened and he stepped back, "You can't possibly you can't"
"I won't what?" Mo Ran laughed softly, "Tell me why I won't."
Xue Meng shuddered, "But he's yours he's your master after all how can you do that"
He looked up at Mo Ran sitting high on the imperial throne. There is Fuxi in the heavenly realm, Yanluo in the earthly realm, and Mo Weiyu on earth.
But for Xue Meng, even if Mo Ran had become the emperor of the human world, he should not have become like this.
Xue Meng was shaking all over, tears of hatred rolling down her face: " Mo Weiyu, are you still human he used to"
Mo Ran raised his eyes lightly, "How did he ever"
Xue Meng shuddered, "You should know how he treated you."
Mo Ran smiled abruptly, "Are you trying to remind me that he once beat me to a pulp and brought me to my knees to confess my sins in front of everyone? Or do you want to remind me that he once stood in my way for you, for someone unrelated, and stood in my way several times and spoiled my great work"
Xue Meng shakes his head in pain: ""
No, Mo Ran.
You think about it, you let go of all your hideous hatred. You look back.
He used to take you to train and practice martial arts and protect you.
He used to teach you to learn to read and write, and to lift poems and paint.
He once learned to cook for you, clumsily, and got his hands bruised.
He used to wait day and night for you to come back, alone from dark to dawn
So many words were stuck in his throat, and in the end, Xue Meng only choked up and said.
"He he is bad-tempered and speaks harshly, but even I know he treats you so well, why do you why do you put up with it"
Xue Meng raises her head, holding back too many tears, but her throat is blocked and she can't speak anymore.
After a long pause, a soft sigh came from Mo Ran from the hall and he said, "Yes."
"But Xue Meng. You know," Mo Ran's voice sounded tired, "he was and is the one person I ever loved. The only one."
A long dead silence.
The pain in my stomach was like a burning fire, and my flesh and blood were torn into a million pieces of shredded remains.
"But, at least he was a teacher and a disciple. His corpse, resting in the red lotus watering hole at South Mountain. Lying in a lotus flower, well preserved, as if asleep." Mo Ran took a moment to breathe and compose himself. His face was expressionless as he said this, his fingers resting on the long rosewood case, but his knuckles were pale and blue.
"His corpse was sustained by my spiritual power to remain undecayed. If you miss him, don't bother with me here and hurry up while I'm still alive."
A fishy sweetness rises in his throat, Mo Ran coughs a few times, and when he speaks again, there is blood between his lips and teeth, but his gaze is relaxed and at ease.
He said hoarsely, "Go on. Go and see him. If I'm late and I die, once the spiritual power is broken, he'll be dust too."
After saying this, he closed his eyes in dismay, the poison attacking his heart, the fire tormenting him.
The pain was so heartbreaking that even Xue Meng's mournful, twisted howls became so distant, as if they were coming from the water across a million seas.
Blood poured out of the corners of his mouth uncontrollably, and Mo Ran squeezed his sleeve, his muscles spasming.
Xue Meng had already run away. The boy's lightness was not bad and it would not take him long to get to South Mountain from here.
He should have seen the last of his master.
Mo Ran braced himself and staggered to his feet, his bloodstained fingers forming a spell to transport himself to the Tongtian Tower at the top of the Dead and the Living.
It is late autumn and the begonias are in thick and breezy bloom.
He did not know why he had finally chosen to end his life of sin here. But the flowers were felt to be in such splendid bloom that they did not lose their fragrant mound.
He lies down in his open coffin and looks up at the night flowers, silently drifting away.
Floating into the coffin, floating on the cheeks. Fluttering like the past fading away.
In this life, from being an illegitimate son with nothing, he has gone through countless experiences to become the only emperor and venerable lord of the earthly realm.
He was so sinful, so full of blood, so loved and so hated, so desired and so hated, that in the end, nothing was left.
He also, after all, did not use his letter of the word, to his own tombstone to mention a word. Whether it was the shameless "Ancient Emperor" or something as absurd as "exploding in oil" or "steaming", he wrote nothing, and the tomb of Xianxia, the first emperor of the Xianxian kingdom, was not left with a single word after all.
The curtain has finally come down on a farce that has lasted for ten years.
After several more hours, when the crowd entered the emperor's palace like a snake of fire, carrying bright torches, they were greeted by the empty Wushan Palace, by the empty summit of death and life, and by Xue Meng, who crumpled to the ground and cried numbly in the ashes of the red lotus.
There is also Mo Weiyu in front of Tongtian Tower, where even the corpse is already cold.