Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Nine-Sun Demonic Silkworm Gu

How could this be? Guan Wen asked in astonishment.

Princess Chao Ge was the closest in history to accomplishing the great endeavor of “exorcising demons.” Yet, she vanished during a journey deep into the Himalayas in search of enlightenment and never returned. The place she mentioned earlier was the Summer Palace, a hundred kilometers east of Kathmandu, where the princess once resided. The Grandmaster of the Celestial Eagle explained, “The questions I asked were all related to the Summer Palace and Princess Chao Ge—answers that only the person herself could possibly know.”

Bao Ling was still lying down, but the light in her eyes had faded. Her lids fluttered half-shut as if on the verge of sleep.

“Bao Ling, what’s going on? How do you know about the Summer Palace?” Guan Wen asked.

Bao Ling murmured drowsily, “It… happened in my dream… Don’t ask anymore. Let me sleep. Let me… sleep…”

Her eyes closed slowly, and within seconds, she drifted into dreams.

“Grandmaster, please stand up and speak. I suspect there’s been a misunderstanding. Miss Bao Ling claims to have memories of a past life, and those memories often surface through dreams in subtle ways. Let’s wait until she wakes, and then ask her everything carefully,” Guan Wen said.

The Grandmaster rose, gazing down at the chaos of broken fragments scattered on the floor. His heartache was plain to see. Reassembling the thangka had been his lifelong pursuit, but now, his dream seemed irretrievably shattered.

“There’s a curse inside her,” he said.

The words startled Guan Wen from his exhaustion, leaving him wide awake.

The Grandmaster walked over, bent down, and took Bao Ling’s left hand, carefully rolling up her sleeve by half a foot, exposing her forearm.

Bao Ling’s skin was very pale, making the bizarre parasite an inch below her elbow stand out in stark relief.

“The Nine-Sun Devil Silkworm,” the Grandmaster whispered.

The parasite hid beneath the skin, two inches long and half an inch wide, shaped like a narrow shoe sole, its body densely covered with half-inch-long tendrils.

“When it has drunk its fill of its host’s blood, the nine sun wheels on its back will turn crimson. That marks the moment of its maturity, when it will automatically divide and reproduce. I’ve seen it with my own eyes—those under the control of the Nine-Sun Devil Silkworm become killers themselves, unrecognizing even their closest kin, driven to madness. I sensed something was wrong when I saw her frantically scattering fragments earlier. This kind of curse was developed by the Tang Clan in Sichuan—it must be Tang Guang, it must be him…” The Grandmaster’s face was clouded with grief and anger, clearly recalling some tragic past.

Indeed, nine faint circles could be seen on the parasite’s back, and as it wriggled, each was stretched and compressed, resembling nine strange, squinting eyes.

“How can we destroy it?” Guan Wen asked.

“I only know one way: to transfer the parasite, to give it a new host—to save her life with another’s,” the Grandmaster replied.

“Then do it. Transfer it to me, free Bao Ling from the curse,” Guan Wen decided without hesitation.

“You must think this through. This is no trifling matter.” The Grandmaster’s eyes now showed open admiration, though his tone remained serious. “Guan Wen, is it worth trading your life for Bao Ling’s? Is the affection between young men and women truly more precious than your own life?”

Guan Wen was no saint; he could not offer his life selflessly to just anyone. But he loved Bao Ling—a deep, genuine love untouched by youthful hormones or outward beauty. He had to keep her alive, had to let the one he loved escape the darkness and return to the light.

“If she lives, I live; if she dies, I die.” He smiled at the Grandmaster. “Begin.”

Following the Grandmaster’s instructions, Guan Wen pressed his right arm tightly against Bao Ling’s left. He could feel her skin turn hot, then cold, in waves.

“Are you ready?” the Grandmaster asked.

Guan Wen nodded, gazing deeply into Bao Ling’s eyes.

The Grandmaster drew a small knife and made a horizontal cut across both forearms. Blood spurted from their wounds and mingled together. The parasite, which had lain dormant in Bao Ling’s arm, wriggled forward, crawled out of her wound, and burrowed into Guan Wen’s. The transfer was quick, lasting only a dozen seconds. Throughout, Guan Wen saw only a shadow moving—never the parasite itself.

Curses—gu magic—originating from Yunnan, Guizhou, and Sichuan, were among the most mysterious of arcane arts. Only the gu masters who bred and controlled these parasites understood their secrets, and Guan Wen was no man of the underworld.

He looked down at his forearm. The parasite was now firmly lodged in the middle of the bone, like a freshly-inked, monstrous tattoo—hideous and unfathomable.

“What does my future hold?” he asked softly.

The Grandmaster didn’t answer. When Guan Wen looked up, he saw the old man staring bitterly at the knife in his hand.

Blood still dripped from its tip, and something appeared to be creeping, slow and stubborn, from the blade to the hilt, and then into the Grandmaster’s right hand, burrowing into his body.

“Master, is something wrong?” Guan Wen was startled.

“Another parasite… it’s already inside me. I was too careless—this time, there is no escape…” the Grandmaster replied, stricken.

“But the parasite clearly entered my arm, didn’t it?” Guan Wen was baffled.

“The gu of the Tang Clan are fathomless—” With a clatter, the knife fell to the floor. The Grandmaster covered his face in despair.

“What kind of parasite is it?” asked Guan Wen.

“One I have never seen before. It has already entered my organs in an instant. This time, I doubt I will leave Tibet alive.” The Grandmaster looked around at the shattered fragments, his face etched with unrelenting regret.

“All men must die—some deaths are heavier than Mount Tai, others lighter than a feather,” Guan Wen murmured.

The wound on his arm had already stopped bleeding, and he had accepted his fate, unafraid, waiting for the end.

A mocking laugh echoed outside the iron door.

Tang Guang’s head appeared at the barred window above the door. He watched the Grandmaster with a mixture of pride and regret, clicking his tongue, “This trap wasn’t meant for you, but for someone else. I’d hoped that by digging this pit, I could eliminate the elite sent by Paradise. Paradise and the Azure Dragon Society are mortal enemies. For years, Paradise has hired bounty hunters to kill the Azure Dragon leaders, often with great success. Intelligence showed their agents had arrived in Shigatse, targeting me and Jin Chanzi. Grandmaster, the parasite in you is different from the one in Guan Wen. It’s a vicious gu composed of Seven-Step Heartbreak Grass, wild mountain bees, ice poison, and black armored scarab from the pyramids. Once the toxin acts, it will rush straight to your heart and devour your organs…”

By now, the Grandmaster’s face was ashen. The invisible things that had invaded his body were taking effect, like an unseen net tightening around his life.

“Now you may join your friends in the underworld. Remember the name of this gu: ‘Earthfire Flux.’ Head is heaven, feet are earth—from the depths of the earth, fire will rise and burn you to ashes. Prepare to die!” Tang Guang laughed as he departed.

The Grandmaster, overwhelmed by despair, could only endure Tang Guang’s cold taunts.

After a long silence, all his anger and regret condensed into three words: “I was wrong.”

Bao Ling slept for a long time on Guan Wen’s lap. Most of the time, her sleep was restless—her lips twitched, her brows furrowed, as if she were trapped in another nightmare. For those haunted by so many nightmares, a single peaceful sleep had become a rare luxury.

Guan Wen’s heart ached, yet he was filled with deep regret. In moments of dire crisis, it is not a paintbrush that saves lives, but martial arts. Once, he had been proud of his single-minded devotion to art, undisturbed by the outside world. He scorned wealth, power, mansions, and luxury cars, stubbornly pursuing spiritual fulfillment, as though dedicating his life to painting was the greatest and most beautiful cause.

But, looking back, was that pursuit not also a mistaken dream?

To live, first you must ensure your own well-being, the well-being of those you love, and those who love you. Only then can you give to society and the world. If you cannot manage your own household, how can you hope to manage the world?

He let out a long sigh, a summation of his half-lived life—full of endless loneliness and regret.

“Will we die here?” Bao Ling asked, eyes closed.

“You’re awake?” Guan Wen looked down.

Bao Ling’s eyelashes trembled, and two silent tears slipped from the corners of her eyes.

The tears carried a pain that pierced Guan Wen’s heart. He reached out, trying to catch those pearly drops, but as his finger touched them, they quietly shattered.

“I dreamed of Feng He—the slash to her throat that ended her life and destroyed the knowledge hidden in her mind. I thought, if such a blade struck me, my nightmares would end. And perhaps, that wouldn’t be so bad after all? Once, tormented by endless nightmares, I wanted to climb the highest building and leap, to end those dreams and start over in the next life…

“But then, I couldn’t do it; now, I cannot escape. That is fate—none can escape the hand of God, playing with us from on high, conjuring cloud and rain at will. All we can do is passively accept the outcome. Guan Wen, my dream is over. Before I die, I have only one wish: paint all my dreams for me—paint those naked, bloody scenes… I have nothing left to fear. Since there is no way back, I will open my eyes and face these nightmares…”

As she spoke, Bao Ling truly opened her eyes and fixed her gaze on Guan Wen.

“All right.” Guan Wen replied with a single word, all his complicated feelings contained within it.

They stared deeply at each other, forgetting entirely the Grandmaster pacing anxiously amid the scattered fragments. In that moment, the world consisted only of the other, and the reflection of oneself in the other’s eyes.