Chapter 308 - The Malice of the Stubborn Stone
Chapter 308 of "Journey to the End of the Night" reveals: âThereâs no need for such grand talk of dying a thousand deathsâŚâ Baili Anâs eyes... Keep reading!
âThereâs no need for such grand talk of dying a thousand deathsâŚâ Baili Anâs eyes curved upwards, but there was no laughter in them, âCould you please raise your arm and roll up your sleeve to let me see your wrist, if you donât mind?â
Despite myriad thoughts, he never expected to hear such a phrase.
Ji Tingâs face stiffened harshly, feeling as if the mild-mannered youth before him had suddenly turned into a venomous snake, hissing and baring its tusks at him.
He recoiled sharply, and his extended hands snapped back as if they had touched flames.
Cold sweat began to stream down his temples; his face still forcedly maintained composure, as he attempted to summon a smile and cautiously said, âBenefactor, what do you mean by this?â
âJust the literal meaning.â Baili Anâs gaze fell on Ji Tingâs sleeve, his tone still even but brooking no refusal.
As he looked at the youth with the gentle eyes and brows before him, Ji Ting felt a chill envelop his body, the hairs on his skin involuntarily standing on end.
His cheeks tensed and relaxed, his teeth clenched in pain, yet he slowly extended his arm as told.
The sleeve was rolled up, revealing a wrist that was nothing but a blur of blood and flesh; the turned-up skin mixed with fine sand and dark earth.
It was filthy and bloody, looking like a rough, hard stone had scraped off a large patch of skin.
Ji Ting appeared to be gritting his teeth in pain, yet also seemed ashamed: âThey say that scholars are good for nothing.
I never took that seriously, but todayâs events have led me to realize my own weakness and inadequacy.
In the face of the chaotic power of ghosts and gods, I found myself utterly unable to resist.â
Baili Anâs expression remained unchanged as he lightly regarded the injury on his wrist, âHow did you come by this wound?â
Ji Ting said, âI fell into a crevasse just now and must have scraped off a chunk of flesh while I struggled.â
Baili An narrowed his eyes slightly: âQuite the feat.â
Ji Ting just chuckled, thinking he was being praised for a scholar being able to climb out of such a crevasse by himself, about to respond when suddenly a sharp pain erupted in his wristâit had been abruptly seized by a palm directly on the wound.
The pain caused him to break out in a cold sweat, and upon looking down in astonishment, he saw fresh blood flowing steadily from between the slender, well-defined fingers wrapped around his wrist.
He was both panicked and startled: âBenefactor, what are you doing?â
Baili An looked down: âThe earth in the desolate house is filled with resentful things from the dead, their yin power is vicious.
Brother Ji Ting, youâve already been cursed by Ghost, and now with the addition of yin soilâs breath into the injury on your wrist, if left too long, I fear it might lead to your bones rotting and your flesh disintegrating.â
He spoke of the terrifying matter so nonchalantly, then took out the Autumnwater Sword, its sharp blade hovering over the wrist for a moment.
With a faint smile, he said, âIf you wish to save this arm, Iâm afraid, Brother Ji Ting, you might have to endure the excruciating pain of scraping the bone.â
Whether it was the âbone-scraping painâ that intimidated him or not, Ji Tingâs face turned deathly pale in an instant.
The arm that had been seized began to tremble slightly, but at this moment, his gaze wasnât one of fear or panic.
After trembling for a bit, it unexpectedly calmed down.
His voice lost its former submission and turned a bit hoarse, âI donât understand, why are you so certain that I am associated with Ghost?â
Baili An pondered seriously for a while before answering, âIsnât it quite obvious?â
Nothing hurt more than this tone of casual self-evidence.
So Ji Ting responded somewhat angrily, âI thought I had been hiding it rather well.â
Baili An shook his head, âIf that was really the case, you wouldnât have caused Fang Geyu to doubt you as well.â
Ji Ting stalled for a moment, glancing at the young lady who was rolling her eyes, his face gradually growing cold, âI donât understand.â
Baili An sighed lightly and said, âAlthough youâve been trying hard to play the part of a good older brother, youâve had too many slips.â
Ji Ting let out two cold chuckles: âIs this the privilege of the victor, to indulge in showing off your brilliance after unraveling all the truth?â
To his sarcastic remarks, Baili An merely looked at him and said placidly, âIf you prefer a more direct approach to resolving this, I can oblige.â
This lightly spoken statement was almost considerate.
Yet it sent chills down Ji Tingâs spine, a bone-piercing coldness shot straight to his skull.
For he firmly believed that should he acquiesce, the youth would not hesitate to end his life with a single stroke of his sword.
Even if there were still things about him that piqued the youthâs interest.
Ji Ting couldnât help but swallow, took several deep breaths of the cold air, and decided it was better to keep a low profile and delay the inevitable as long as possible.
âHowâŚ
how exactly did you figure out that there was something wrong with me?â
âFrom the very beginning.â
âThe beginning?â Even Ji Ting, who was intent on stalling for time, found this concept somewhat inconceivable.
He laughed at himself, âSo you suspected me from the very first moment you saw me in this desolate house.
You appear kind-hearted and sincere, with no hint of guile, but who wouldâve thought you were such a deeply suspicious person?â
Baili An raised an eyebrow and smiled lightly.
It wasnât that he doubted and scrutinized everyone he met.
He released Ji Tingâs wrist, gathered Ji Yingâs bones into the container of water-generating jade, wiped the blood from his palm, and said, âNo, youâre mistaken.
Before I even entered the desolate house, I knew that you were the murderer of Lan Youdieâs personal maid.â
Ji Tingâs face turned wonderfully colorful in an instant: âYou even guessed thatâŚâ
Fang Geyu hadnât thought of that, and in surprise, she said, âDoes that mean Meng Chengzhi is innocent?
But there was clearly an apricot blossom mark on his wrist.â
Baili An said, âIf Mr.
Meng were indeed the murderer, he would not have easily revealed the Ghost apricot blossom mark for others to see.
Isnât that openly telling people that he has betrayed Xianling City for the Ghost Path?â
This point indeed made no sense, but what Fang Geyu couldnât understand was, âEven if the apricot blossom Ghost Seal could be a deliberate frame-up by Ghost, Meng Chengzhiâs act of committing suicide at the Holy Tomb as an apology occurred in full view of everyone.
How do you explain that?â
Baili An touched the jade on his thumb, looked at Ji Ting and said, âTo commit suicide as an apology certainly implies a guilty conscience, but the guilt was not for murder to steal yin lifespan, but for having taught a student who turned out to harm and kill others.â
Fang Geyuâs expression gradually grew colder: âI see.
After all, a strict teacher isnât guaranteed to produce outstanding students.
Meng Chengzhi lacked discernment, and naturally, among his disciples, there would be a few rotten fish and stinking shrimps hiding in the mud, reeking and poisoning others.â
Ji Ting laughed heartily, unabashed on his face, instead appearing rather proud.
His smile was almost twisted.
âYes, youâre right.
I am a naturally rotten fish, a stinking shrimp, wallowing in the mud, surviving by clutching at every straw thrown my way, unscrupulously climbing higher at any cost.
Wherever thereâs a scent of flesh, I head there,â he admitted.
âI concede that Meng Chengzhi is a good person, he treated me extremely well, not despising me as a worthless stone, tirelessly teaching and sculpting this stubborn rock of mine.â
Fang Geyu looked at him coldly.