However, Qi Rong said, “State Preceptor? That evil cultivator Fangxin or whatever? Who the hell is on the same side as him?”
Lang Qianqiu heard his question and was puzzled again.
“You…you said An Le wanted to spill blood at the Gilded Banquet, but the one who did it was the State Preceptor? Were they not on the same side? I…” he trailed off, thoroughly confused.
“Hell knows where that evil cultivator came from,” Qi Rong replied. “It had nothing to do with him! Listen up, Lang Qianqiu—the slaughter at the Yong’an Gilded Banquet was the work of the people of Xianle! An Le had already planned to kill off every single damn rebel at the banquet, but then that weirdo State Preceptor suddenly busted in. An Le thought the plan had gone ass-up and ran to me for help, asking me what to do if his involvement was discovered. But that very night it was announced that the one who committed the Gilded Banquet Massacre was your State Preceptor, and he was the one who became the most wanted man in the entire kingdom.”
It took Lang Qianqiu a while to process that information. “If that was true, then why didn’t you say anything?”
Qi Rong clicked his tongue. “Are you fucking stupid? Why would I say anything? Why wouldn’t I want to have someone else take the blame? Can I get leveled up to a supreme for pulling off this lie?” He was relishing this more and more the longer he spoke. “Yoooo, I get it. You just can’t believe what I’m saying, right? I heard you nailed your own shifu into a coffin over this! Ha ha ha ha HA HA HA, you dumbass! You killed the wrong person!”
Listening to that vile, hearty laughter, Xie Lian closed his eyes and cursed inwardly again.
Lang Qianqiu cracked his knuckles as he raged. “…You’re wrong!” He then whipped around and shouted toward Xie Lian. “If this is true, even if he didn’t say anything, why didn’t you?!”
Qi Rong spat out a broken tooth. “And who the fuck is that? What, are you all here to have a party in my cave?”
Everyone ignored him. Lang Qianqiu demanded, “If you didn’t do it…if you didn’t kill them, then why did you admit your guilt?!”
Just then, Xie Lian’s body relaxed. Hua Cheng had undone the petrification spell. It might’ve been too late, though. Lang Qianqiu was waiting for answers, and Xie Lian stood up slowly, working out the kinks in his wrists and joints.
After a pause, Xie Lian blurted, “Complete nonsense.”
Lang Qianqiu had fully expected him to say “It’s true, just as he said.” Yet those words Xie Lian uttered so coldly completely rejected any relief of guilt from Qi Rong’s recounting of events.
Qi Rong was pissed. “Complete nonsense?! Says who?”
“Says me,” Xie Lian replied. “All these empty words. What proof do you have that the ones who spilled blood at the Gilded Banquet were the royal descendants of Xianle?”
Qi Rong seemed to find this funny and replied, “All those who were killed are dead, so what proof is there to give? Besides, it’s been hundreds of years. What proof is left?”
“Which is why I say this is all complete nonsense,” Xie Lian replied. “Xianle and Yong’an are dynasties of the past, long lost to time. Is there any point in you stirring up trouble with nothing but baseless bits of ancient history?”
The tone of his voice startled Qi Rong, and he narrowed his eyes as if remembering something.
Xie Lian turned to Lang Qianqiu and said calmly, “I killed your father; you saw it yourself. This was not long after my second banishment. I was filled with frustration and caused a great wrong. This is all my fault. There’s no need to drag anyone else down with me. This man is a deceiver; dragging Prince An Le’s name through the mud was only his revenge for you calling him vulgar.”
If any bystander listened in on this conversation, they would find it hilarious. A fight over the title of murderer? One would think massacring the Gilded Banquet was some sort of glorious achievement.
Lang Qianqiu was in turmoil and profoundly confused. He held his head and thought for a long while before he slowly stated, “That’s right…it was you and no one else.”
He had seen it with his own eyes. That night, he ran to the Gilded Palace excitedly, only to see the black-clad State Preceptor pull a long, thin sword from the chest of his father, splattering blood everywhere. And at that moment, his father, the king of Yong’an, had reached a hand out toward him, still breathing. It was only after he’d rushed over that the hand dropped limply.