Chapter 270: [Tianyin Pavilion] The Crime to be Sentenced

The three days passed quickly, and at the break of dawn on the third day, Shi Mei arrived in front of the chamber.

Fairy Tramper is already dressed, still in her black battle armour, her waist strong and lean with her silver glittering concealed weapon case, her legs long, her shoulders broad and even, her hands covered in dragon scales and her wrist strapped with a thousand boxes.

He raised his eyes and his gaze was cold: "You're here."

"Get ready, we're going to the Tianyin Pavilion."

"No need to get ready, let's go."

Shi Mei looked him over: "What about Chu Wanning?"

"Give him his medicine, and go to sleep."

Shi Mei nodded, but just in case, he went back into the chamber with Fairy Tramper again. After checking his pulse, Shi Mei said, "His energy will be fully recovered in a few days, so be careful."

Fairy Tramper is not afraid of Chu Wanning's fighting prowess and instead asks, "Where are the memories?"

Shi Mei glanced at him, "Just the same."

""

Ignoring the gloomy look on Fairy Tramper's face, Shi Mei rises and sets up a compulsion incense in the chamber to ensure that Chu Wanning does not suddenly wake up and ruin his plans. Finally, on the way out, she places a high-level spell on the door.

Fairy Tramper frowned: "What is this spell for? There is no one else on this mountain, and Nan Gongliu is the mind of a brat, so no one can go in and save him."

Shi Mei's face remained unchanged as she said, "It's hard to protect your family from thieves."

"Who."

"You don't know." Shi Mei sighed, "It's one of the people closest to me. No more talk, let's go."

The two men left.

Inside the cold, stone room, Chu Wanning is left alone. He is still unconscious, his memories of his two lives coiling back.

But more than that, even Shi Mei didn't realize that the reason why Chu Wanning had been lingering for so long and still hadn't fully recovered his consciousness and memories was not only because of his poor health, but also because of another very important reason

It was not just his own memories he had to remember

It was probably because half of the earth soul had been in Mo Ran's body for a long time, and had been entwined with Mo Ran's soul all day, that when the earth soul returned, it brought some memories of Mo Ran's soul with it.

At this moment, these memories became the last images to flood his skull. He was dreaming, dreaming of broken and unpleasant memories.

First he dreamed of a mass grave, where dishevelled children crouched over a decaying female body and wept, snotty and tearful.

"Mother, Mother, is there anyone? Is there anyone? Bury me too, bury me and Mother together."

Then I dreamt of the Xiangtan Zuiyu Building, Mo Ran, bruised and battered, curled up in a dog's cage, the warm pavilion with its golden beasts of the Rui brain and misty incense, the child locked in the cage, without food or drink, and he could not even turn around.

A child of his age grinned and laughed at him, "Don't look at yourself, you want to be a hero, I think you're a joke, you've been a joke all your life."

Spit over.

Little Mo Ran Close your eyes.

Chu Wanning's eyelashes also twitched.

Mo Ran

Then he dreamed of tongues of fire twisting and twisting like hanging ghosts hovering over the buildings, dancing morosely.

There were cries everywhere, burning beams collapsing, people screaming and smoke rolling in.

The young man Mo Ran sits in the light of this Tongtian fire, his face cold, his eyes calm, his head bowed, a bloodstained knife in his lap, a bunch of grapes in his hand, slowly peeling the purple skin.

"It's all over, Mother."

Mo Ran appears to be at peace.

"But I can't see you. I've killed someone and there's blood on my hands. Mother, I'm going to hell when I die and I'll never see you again."

Mo Ran Mo Ran

Suddenly a light came up in front of him.

It is the gentle face of a woman with her eyes tilted slightly upwards.

Who is it

Chu Wanning thought that the woman's brow bore a striking resemblance to her own, and when she looked down and worked hard, it was particularly striking.

She delicately sewed the rough coat in her hands.

" Mother" there was a child's voice, calling out in a soft, mosquito-like voice.

When the woman looked up at the sound, she smiled at him, "Why are you awake?"

"I had a bad dream and I'm hungry."

The woman then laid aside her shirt, opened her arms and said with a gentle smile, "You're having another nightmare... don't be afraid, Mo Ran come into Mother's arms."

Mo Ran Mo Ran

Chu Wanning's eyes were closed, and his heart was not sure how bitter it felt.

It's too bitter.

Just looking at it, it feels like the days are dried up and crumpled, and every day and night is so hard.

Mother

This was the first time he saw Mo Ran's mother's face, and he suddenly understood why, outside the Temple of No Mercy, little Mo Ran had instinctively grabbed his robe and trusted himself to pray to him, and why, in front of the Tongtian Tower, the young man had approached him and persistently begged him to take him as his pupil.

The teenager smiled brightly and said, "Because you look the nicest and gentlest."

At the time, everyone laughed behind Mo Ran's back for being blind and for kissing his ass.

Actually, it's not.

Not really

He was not blind, nor was he patronising, but he could not tell the truth, nor could he cry, nor could he pull Chu Wanning and say, " Your Mightiness, when you bow your head, you actually look a bit like the person who once treated me best in this world. She is no longer here, so can you just ignore me, can you look at me one more time instead of her."

I miss her so much.

Mo Ran could not say anything, but held back the bitterness in her heart and the tears that welled up. He can only hold back the bitterness in his heart and the tears that are welling up. He can only hold back the coldness and neglect of Chu Wanning. Chasing after them, pretending to laugh calmly and fooling everyone.

No one has to know his past, and no one can share his pain.

He could only smile so brightly, under the Tongtian Tower, a smile too eager, too thirsty, stealing the endless thoughts that burned Chu Wanning.

Mo Ran opens his eyes.

He is no longer at the top of death and life; he is in an extremely cramped cell. The walls are grey and dull, and the only light here comes from a small opening under the basalt door where food is served.

The top of the cell was engraved with the coat of arms of the scales, and he knew he was behind bars.

This is the most impartial and fair sanctuary in the world, the first public hall in the Xianxia world, independent of the ten sects.

Tianyin Pavilion.

He lay in it with a burning sore throat and chapped lips.

There was silence, so silent that the sound of a hollow wind could be heard in his eardrums, and he could hear the murmurings of spirits. It took him a long time to bring his lax consciousness together

He actually felt that he should have had this day in his last life, but fate had been kind to him after all, allowing him to live two lives before his sins were cleared up with him in this one.

" Mo Ran, dinner is ready."

I don't know how long I've been lying here, but time is a blur.

He heard someone come up to him and push a meal through the hole, a piece of oil swirl cake and a bowl of soup.

He did not rise to receive it, and the attendant of the Tianyin Pavilion did not speak to him again, his feet clattering as he quickly moved away.

How is Chu Wanning doing?

How is it going at the top of death and life

What happened to all the pieces that were destroyed?

He was drowsy and kept thinking wearily about these three questions for a long time before he was willing to resign himself to them, knowing that no one would tell him the answers.

He is now a prisoner.

He sat up.

There was a pounding pain in his chest, no strength in his body, and the once surging spiritual flow was nowhere to be found. He leaned against the wall for a moment

It turns out that this is what it feels like after the spirit core is shattered.

I cannot summon Shenwu, I cannot cast spells, as if the kun that rides the waves has lost its tail and the roc that rides the clouds has lost its wings.

He was curled up in the corner, his dark eyes staring blankly ahead.

Mo Ran was suddenly sad, but not because of himself. He thought of Chu Wanning in his previous life, and finally he felt the same helplessness and pain Chu Wanning felt at that time.

He would have liked to say sorry to Chu Wanning at the time.

But it's too late.

Nothing can be turned back.

He was trapped in the room, and the one loaf of bread and bowl of soup went from hot to cold, from cold to freezing. Then he began to eat, and when he had finished this little bit, no one came to the cell again.

He was Mo Ran in his childhood cage again, but the room was so much better than the cage that he could actually lie down comfortably.

He lay in this darkness, waking and sleeping, but waking and sleeping were not so important, in this room he looked like he was dead.

Mo Ran thought drowsily that maybe he was just dead

Perhaps this life was a dream he had while lying in the coffin beneath the Tongtian Tower, his soul still intact. He saw the thirty-two years of his life pass before his eyes like a horse-rider's show, with all its colours, joys and sorrows, but in the end it all became dead bones in the grave.

He curled the corners of his mouth slightly, a small smile rising.

He actually thought it would be nice if that were the case.

He was tired, he had walked too long, he had struggled too long, he didn't care so much whether it was hell or earth ahead, he just wanted to rest.

He was senile at heart, in fact, he had completely collapsed and aged since the time Chu Wanning perished. All these years he had been doing good, making amends, and he was looking for the medicine that would cure this senility.

But he couldn't find it.

He had fought for so long, begged shamelessly and unyieldingly for so long, and now he was tired of fighting, tired of begging. In this life, he had lost his mother, his master, his best friend, his lover, his stolen family and his vain reputation.

Now, he has lost even his spirit core. But he was still brought to the Tianyin Pavilion, and still could not escape the harshest chastisement in the Xianxia realm.

He finally died, knowing that he would never be forgiven again.

He, Mo Weiyu, is an ugly, deformed mountain, whose sores are covered by the vast winter snow.

But the snow melted.

His darkness or his horribleness, there is nowhere to hide.

He could not be the Master of Ink, from the moment he stained the blood of the first innocent man, he was doomed to be the Fairy Tramper Emperor all his life.

He died, and the world rejoiced.

I don't know how many days he had been trapped in the forbidden room, but the door opened.

The disciples of the Tianyin Pavilion came in and without a word tied him with the binding ropes, before dragging him up left and right and dragging him outside.

They led him, through a long dark tunnel.

Mo Ran spoke hoarsely and drowsily, saying for the first time in days, "How are they?"

No one paid him any attention.

He was twisted and carried to the end. The light was coming on, and Mo Ran, like an evil dragon who has been cowering in the darkness for too long, blind and clawed, looked so trapped and unsettled in this blinding glare. He tried to cover his eyes, but his hands were tied behind his back, so he could only look down, tears dripping from beneath his thick black lashes.

His ears are dull and he does not know where he is; his sense of smell is the only thing that is distinct.

He smelled the wind, the sea of people, the flowers and trees, and he was nudged a little, so he hesitated to move forward.

Slowly, the ears are getting used to the noise of the place.

He heard many people talking, the whispers coming together like a river tide. The tide was able to wash away dirt, but the tide could also drown a man.

Mo Ran felt like she couldn't breathe.

He is very weak.

At the moment it is as weak as it can be.

"Kneel down."

His escorts were pushing him and he fell to his knees, the daylight shining brightly in the high sky on his haggard, withered face.

I didn't expect it to be such a glorious day outside.

"That's the Ink Master."

"I never thought I'd see him on trial at Tianyin Pavilion one day... I don't know who I am."

Mo Ran's ears buzzed and his eyes gradually saw something, but it was still very unclear, and he could only look at everything in front of him through the thick shade of his eyelashes, with his eyes slightly closed.

It is the memory of the Tianyin Pavilion's public hearing platform.

As a young man, he had seen the place of trial with Xue Zhengyong Xue Meng.

But he had gone from being a spectator to being a man on trial in full view of the public.

These were the ordinary people who had come to the Tianyin Pavilion to watch the trial, and the scattered practitioners of the four seas. He could not see the faces of any of them, nor could he see the expressions on their faces, but only the heads that were mingling together, forming waves of wheat that rose and fell.

Then he looked up again.

A high platform towered over the four walls and on it sat visitors from various sects.

The turquoise one was Jade Lake Villa, the red one was Fire Phoenix Pavilion and the yellow one was Temple of No Mercy.

He saw the familiar silvery blue, the quietest and most crowded sect in the entire grandstand.

The top of death and life.

He blinked, ignoring the stinging in his eyes, and looked desperately in that direction but he could not see, he could not see where Xue Zhengyong was, he could not see who was Xue Meng and who was Elder Greedy Wolf and who was Xuan Ji, and he could not find Lady Wang.

At the end of the day, on the judgment bench, he still could not see those he was most concerned about.

"Mo Ran, Lord of the Ninth City of the School of Confucianism, the illegitimate son of Nan Gongyan," Mu Yanli stated in a clear, amplified voice on the podium, "should therefore be tried severely and not be misplaced. No wrongful conviction."

Mo Ran did not listen to her words.

Such a bright, sharp voice is too harsh for someone who has been claustrophobic for so long.

Mu Yanli spoke at great length for about a cup of tea, but all that drifted into Mo Ran's ears were intermittent words like "killing to pay for life", "evil intentions" and "forbidden arts". The words that drifted into Mo Ran's ears were "kill to pay", "evil intent" and "forbidden practice".

At the end he heard her say, "It is the Tianyin Pavilion's duty to remove felons and to do justice."

As Mu Yanli finished speaking, a disciple from Tianyin Pavilion came alongside him, and he came to Mo Ran, casting a dark shadow of ink against the dazzling sunlight.

"Open your mouth."

""

When Mo Ran didn't respond, the man gave a "tsk" and roughly picked up his jaw, pouring a pot of bitter, salty juice into his mouth.

"Cough cough."

Mo Ran couldn't stop coughing; he hadn't eaten for days, and his stomach was so irritated by such a strong pulp that it nearly spasmed, as if he was going to dry heave.

The man squeezed his throat to stop him from moving, forcing him to swallow the entire pot of potion. The cold liquid was like a snake sliding into his belly, turning over and tearing out his internal organs.

Mo Ran's face was blue, he wanted to vomit, literally.

But he wouldn't say anything, he wouldn't beg for mercy, he wouldn't even let a tear fall from the corner of his eye. He had lived half a life of poverty and humility, but that did not mean that he was without dignity.

The potion was poured down as far as it would go and the man let go of him as he gasped heavily.

The feathers are in disarray and fatigue is evident.

Yet it still has the fierceness of a lone eagle on the brink of death.

The people at the Tianyin Pavilion were explaining to the visitors from all over the world the usual

"This is the water of vindication."

Mo Ran's lips are pale and her eyes are drooping as she smiles.

The water of guilt, the water of guilt, how could he not know

This potion was never to be drunk by an innocent person, but only by a prisoner on trial in the Tianyin Pavilion, who would be given this potion and then become unconscious, recounting all the great sins and mistakes he had committed in his life.

When the Tianyin Pavilion disciple had finished explaining, he came over and tapped Mo Ran on the lips, using the art of amplification so that everyone could hear his words.

Mo Ran closed her eyes and frowned, her stomach feeling like a knife was twisting.

He was holding back, shivering from the effort of holding back, his shackles clanking. His face was pale, the whites of his eyes slowly turning upwards as he lay prostrate on the torture table spasming and convulsing

He was still conscious, but his consciousness was clear for a while, then blurred, and he used up all his strength to fight the drug, but he could not get rid of it.

"I've killed people." By the end, still in agony, he closed his eyes and spoke hoarsely.

His ragged voice stumbled around every corner.

The crowd fell silent as pairs of eyes looked at the man on stage.

Mu Yanli gazes out of the corner of his eye from his elevated platform.

"How many people have been killed?"

"Too many to remember."

Already the people below had turned pale.

"How old were you when you first killed someone?"

"Fifteen."

"Killing a monk or a mortal"

"Mortals."

"Killing for revenge, or for self-preservation"

"Both."

As the two of them asked and answered, many of those spectators had gathered to watch the fun and were previously unaware of the previous events. When they heard that Mo Ran had killed someone at the age of fifteen in revenge, and that he had killed more and more people than he could remember, they were both shocked and angry.

"I can't believe that this famous Patriarch Mo is a murderous devil."

"How awful this man is so sinister."

"When I was fifteen I couldn't even kill a chicken, but he's actually started killing people already it's sick"

Mu Yanli said coldly, as if he hadn't heard, "Go on to Chen sin."

"I", Mo Ran said in a dumb voice, "I impersonated the nephew of the Lord of Death and Life."

"How long"

"Eight years."

"Continue with Chen sin."

Mo Ran then slowly said, "I practice the three forbidden arts Zhenlong Zhenlong Chess game"

Many in the stands were countenanced in this moment.

Someone was looking towards the top of the Dead and Alive in a sinister manner and sneered, " Xue Zhengyong is still trying to absolve this beast, isn't he? I think this old man is so blinded by lard that he doesn't even want to avenge the murder of his nephew. The top of death and life actually has disciples practising forbidden arts, this sect can be disbanded, what else is there to keep it for and continue to nurture devils"

"I would have said it was him too. At the top of the Dead Life, he scrapped his own spirit core to save us, nothing more than a bitter ploy, and it's lucky we didn't let him off the hook then"

"He must have been thinking that way, he's so capable, so what if his spirit core is ruined, maybe he can even come up with some devious way to restore himself. If it wasn't for Lord Tianyin Pavilion's insistence, we might have let this evil thing go by mistake"

On the dais is a huge scale, with golden light flowing through its body. It is a very special Shenwu, weighing a hundred tons, which has stood here for thousands of years, since the opening of the Tianyin Pavilion.

It is said that the scales were left in the world by the gods to determine all sins and punishments on earth and to give the most just verdict.

Mo Ran did not open his mouth to confess a single sin, Mu Yanli ordered his disciples to throw golden spiritual weights into the scales, and those lingering weights fell into the midst of the scales and quickly grew larger, weighing down heavily and toppling the other side of the scales against the corresponding chastisement.

When he described his first sin, the scales were already pointing to "digging up spiritual cores by birth."

And after he finished the game of Zhenlong, the scales pointed to the most extreme punishment

"Crush the soul."

In the stands, Xue Meng's face was instantly bloodless.

He muttered, "Crush the soul."

From then on, there will be no more Mo Weiyu, no more Mo Ran.

This elder brother of his, real or not.

Even if they are reincarnated, they will never see each other again.

His mind went blank and his hands were wooden and stiff.

Xue Zhengyong stood up and said solemnly to Mu Yanli, "This punishment of crushing the soul has never been inflicted on anyone since the Tianyin Pavilion was established. I fear, Master Mu, that you have been unjust in your trial."