Bao Zhi continued to interrogate the city lord for relevant information about the era.

The city lord explained to the best of his ability.

How Spectral Soul Demon Venerable created soul path, opening up a new way of cultivation for gu masters.

Through his innovations and promotion of soul path, it became the mainstream path of the five regions and two heavens.

It provided many advantages in other aspects, like gu refinement and enduring backlashes.

Gu masters chose to strengthen their souls. Seven out of ten gu masters cultivated soul path, a shocking number!

Bao Zhi recalled in his mind how wood path's popularity soared during Geneis Lotus Immortal Venerable's era.

Now things have changed, this was the undisputed era of soul path.

The city lord himself was a rank four gu master cultivating soul path.

Meticulously absorbing the knowledge, Bao Zhi instructed him to show all his gu and explain their effects.

The city lord knew in the depths of his heart, looking at his situation, whoever these people were they could pry his secrets from him even if he resisted.

He willingly complied, producing a series of gu, starting his showcase with his vital gu.

The more Bao Zhi heard about soul path, the more serious his expression became.

"If there were soul path gu worms back in my time, I could have healed my soul."

"No, there were soul path gu worms, just soul path wasn't established yet. It was lacking a comprehensive system."

This thought of his was confirmed shortly after as the city lord started to explain soul path gu relating to memories.

Soul search gu!

This gu worm could access its target's memories.

"Oh. I knew of methods to erase memories. But now it seems soul path has even more methods." Bao Zhi immediately realized the importance of such a gu.

A gu master's secrets could be extracted, leaving no space for lies.

Bao Zhi took the soul search gu, startling the city lord.

After a moment, the city lord felt his connection severed to the gu.

"Wait! I haven't told you about the side effects of-"

"I will know all about them." But Bao Zhi interrupted him as the gu worm activated in tandem with the gu house.

The displays came to life, projecting pictures from the man's memories.

Some where life-like and vivid, some were blurry and vague.

A boy stood in a dimly lit chamber, barely eight, his eyes wide with awe and fear.

The chamber was dominated by a towering statue with three heads and a thousand stone arms.

"Father, when can I start cultivating my soul like you? I want to be strong like you!"

His father's voice echoed in the chamber, harsh and commanding.

"You are still too young. Go and worship the thousand armed effigy. This is also cultivation."

...

A small room, its walls lined with dusty shelves of old, yellowed books.

A teenage boy stood over the frail body of a young girl, no older than twelve, her face pale and sickly.

Her eyes were sunken, staring blankly up at the ceiling. The boy's hands trembled as he shook her, desperate to elicit a response, tears welling up in his eyes.

"What happened to you, sister?! Speak to me! Help! Something is wrong with her!"

...

A grand hall. At the center, middle-aged man with a commanding presence walked to and forth.

"Cultivating the soul is hard, remember this well. Your talent is greater than what your sister had, we have great expectations of you."

His hand rested heavily on the boy's shoulder, a gesture both of support and of dominance.

"Yes, I won't bring shame to our house."

...

A lavish, well-lit study, its walls lined with intricate carvings.

The young man, his face twisted with rage, stormed in. He confronted an older man, seated behind a large, ornate desk.

"You! It was you, wasn't it? I discovered today why mother became feeble and why she died later. You did the same thing to your own daughter as well?! You monster!"

His father's voice again, cold and unyielding.

"Son! This is the path of cultivation. I told you it is very difficult. You have to accept it."

"If that's the price I won't accept!"

...

The family hall. The scent of incense thick in the air, voices chanting.

"Long live the new family head! Long live the new family head!"

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Pride swelled in his chest, yet a cold, gnawing emptiness lingered, a void that no power or title could fill.

...

He was in his father's study, fingers trembling as he held a bloodstained dagger, his uncle next to him.

"They even planted false evidence! How will you deal with your father's enemies? Your resolve is feeble and your foundation is too shallow!"

"I can deal with them." He gritted the dagger. "Thanks for your concern, uncle."

...

The faces of the family elders loomed before him, twisted in pain as their souls were ripped from their bodies.

His uncle's voice rose in anger.

"You fool! This was a grave mistake! I trusted you to take care of it. But this? Have you learned nothing from your late father? You clearly absorbed their souls. We can't cover this up, they are from the main family branch!"

...

The life of the city lord flashed by rapidly. Moments of years condensed into minutes.

The joys, sinful acts, betrayal and hidden secrets of a lifetime displayed for all to bear witness.

"Ah! Enough! Make it stop." The city lord wailed in agony.

The soul searching not only damaged his soul, causing intense pain, it also made him relive his darkest moments he wished he could forget.

But Bao Zhi did not relent, he continued to extract information. The most significant events the city lord lived were of no importance to Bao Zhi.

"Aargh-!"

The interrogation turned into a torture of soul and psyche.

The city lord, transfixed by the immortal gu house, couldn't lift a finger.

He stared into the emptiness with gritted teeth, his gaze vacant.

The sharp screams turned to guttural groans, his body shivered.

But seeing the contents of the unearthed memories, who would feel a shred of sympathy for him anymore?

At the next moment, the city lord's eyes unexpectedly opened to their fullest then he let out a loud cry as his body went limp.

The images stopped playing.

"He shouldn't have died from that much. Could it be..." Bao Zhi pondered in his mind.

"An agreement was triggered on his soul when I reached relevant information, it seems."

The loud scream didn't go unnoticed.

Hao Meng's eyes fluttered open, the voice of the city lord stabbing through the haze of his unconsciousness.

He sat up, his heart pounding, a chill crawling up his spine as he looked around the room.

And then he saw her.

"Mother?"

His mother lay crumpled on the floor, her delicate body still and unnaturally mangled.

Hao Meng's breath got caught in his throat, and for a moment, he was paralyzed, unable to process the rawness of reality.

He rose unsteadily to his feet, his legs threatening to give way beneath him. Each step he took toward her felt like a terrible dream, but he couldn't stop himself.

His mind raced, bombarded by a relentless stream of memories, the gentle lullabies she sang when he was a child, the iron grip she held on his life, the countless ways she had twisted his love into something dark and suffocating.

"Why?"

His chest tightened as he sank to his knees beside her, the weight of her influence still heavy on his soul.

"Why did you have to die? Why are you tormenting me even in your death?"

Yet, even as hatred churned within him, it was tethered to something else, a deep, inextricable love, forged over years of dependency and fear.

He reached out with a trembling hand, his fingers brushing against the coldness of her skin.

It was true. She was really gone.

"No! No..."

A shudder ran through him, and he pressed his forehead to the floor beside her, his body wracked with silent sobs.

"I hate you!"

He had hated her, but he had loved her too, even when he realized how she had warped his entire existence.

She had been everything to him for the longest time, his only family.

Hao Meng's breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving.

A bitter taste filled his mouth.

His eyes stung with tears he refused to shed.

"Mo... Mother..."

How many times had she held him back, kept him under her thumb, using her selfish care as chains to bind him?

How often had he believed her when she said it was for his own good?

That she knew what was best for him?

Her words had been sweet poison, laced with a venom that had seeped into his soul, warping his thoughts, making him doubt himself.

He remembered the competition round she had tried to kill Qinyang, he re-imagined her face twisting in cold malice.

That was the moment he had seen his mother for what she truly was, a tyrant who used love as a weapon, a manipulator who hid her cruelty behind a mask of concern.

He had hated her then, a white-hot rage burning in his chest.

And yet, even now, as he looked at her lifeless body, he could not help but feel a pang of deep sorrow.

She had been his mother, the woman who had raised him, protected him, cared for him.

Her love had been a prison, but it had been all he had known.

He still loved her, despite everything. He truly did.

"Mother…" He whispered, his voice breaking.

Tears blurred his vision, and he blinked them away, refusing to let them fall.

From behind him, he sensed a presence. He didn't need to turn to know who it was. Qinyang.

Her heart ached as she watched Hao Meng, his shoulders shaking with quiet sobs.

She had never seen him like this, so vulnerable, so broken.

She reached out and her hand touched his shoulder, a hesitant gesture of comfort.

"I'm here for you."

The contact jolted Hao Meng.

He flinched, pulling away from her touch, his body curling in on itself. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the world, to shut out the torrent of emotions threatening to drown him.

The sobs came harder now, wrenching from his throat in painful, jagged gasps. He wrapped his arms around himself, as if trying to hold himself together, to keep from falling apart completely.

"Leave..." He choked out, his voice raw and strained. "Just… I just need some time. Alone."

Qinyang's hand hovered in the air, her fingers curling into a fist before she let it drop to her side.

She stepped back, her heart twisting in her chest, torn between the urge to comfort him and the need to respect his space. She had seen the look in his eyes, the raw agony, the guilt that cut deeper than any blade.

She could only imagine what he was feeling.

She glanced down at the body of Wen Hao Jiong, her expression hardening.

She had tried to kill Qinyang, not once, but twice. Qinyang's life had hung by a thread, saved only by Hao Meng's self-sacrificial intervention.

She had come so close to death, and even now, the memory of it filled her with a cold, simmering anger. She should feel relieved, even glad, that the woman was gone, that the threat had been removed.

And yet, as she looked at Hao Meng, she saw the depth of his pain, her anger faded, replaced by an uncertain mix of emotions.

She recalled how much he had yearned for his mother's approval, her affection. She had seen his respectful eyes when he spoke of her.

She gave Hao Meng the space he needed, her heart aching with the need to comfort him, to hold him, to tell him that everything would be okay.

But the words stuck in her throat.

"What comfort can I offer in this world to you?"

She didn't know how to comfort him, not when she herself was so conflicted.

...

From the shadow of a corner, Mo Xuan's voice erupted.

Witnessing the collapse of the Treasure Blue Beaver Blessed Land...

The life and death fight of Yuhun Kuang and Kong Guying...

The murder of the family in the oasis... The memories of the city lord...

A son's mourning of his mother...

Mo Xuan's innocent heart couldn't bear to watch and listen to these events any longer!

"Why do you all stand and watch unperturbed? Why do you wear a mask and hide your worlds of inner torments?" He pointed at Bao Zhi and Jue Shi.

"Oh the pain, it courses through my bones from my very core bursting forth from an abyssal spring."

"Ah-! I am dying of life!" Mo Xuan grabbed his chest.

"I am drowning in a sea of suffering! It hurts me so much!"

"My spirit is engulfed by the deep-rooted taste of death. I am weak to swallow this certainty! Oh, the savor of eternal nothingness. You flow through me, for I must endure your ebb and flow until I am strong enough. Strong enough to embrace your poisonous claws of irrevocable origin. Ah-!"

"These!"

"These nightmares play before my eyes, haunting my mind."

"I try to wake up. Futile!"

"Ah, it is not possible to wake from this vision, because I am already awake!"

"I want to cry, but my tears turn into thoughts. And my thoughts, they are as bitter as tears."

After a brief pause, Mo Xuan continued his monologue.

"Naivete is the only road to salvation. But for I who felt and perceived the agony of life, the question of salvation is simple."

"There is no salvation on my road!"

"What meaning is there in the tragic suffering of a man for whom everything is void and whose only rule in this world is agony?" Mo Xuan asked in ridicule.

"There is nothing!" He roared.

"I am, therefore this world is meaningless!"

* * * * *