kvmb Chapter 151 The Memory of Blood Lotus
Chapter 151 The Memory of Blood Lotus
The flames surged upward, swallowing the wooden beams with frightening speed. In the blink of an eye they glowed red-hot.
The heat slapped me in the face. Instinct made me recoil, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
“The door—look, the door!” Mu Cangli hissed.
The wooden door was kicked outward from inside, and two children burst out, one after the other.
The older one wore a mask, moving with clean, practiced motions as he reached back to grab the younger.
And the younger—
The younger one…
My whole body went rigid.
He too was dressed in red, red so vivid he almost melted into the flames behind him.
That face—those childish brows and eyes—there was no mistaking it. I really did see a trace of Lian in him.
My throat tightened. My voice scraped out, barely audible. “That kid… is he…?”
Lian’s gaze never left the fire. He answered quietly, “Yes.”
The blaze reflected twin shards of searing red in his eyes, as if an old nightmare had been set alight again.
“That is me.”
We all exchanged looks. The air shifted—strange, awkward, heavy.
The firelight cast a faint red glow across Lian’s face, but his expression remained still as dead water.
Hua was the first to lose patience. “If that kid is you,” he drawled, “then what exactly are you now? No—wait, let me rephrase—not a ‘what,’ but—”
I suspected he had been waiting ages to say that line.
I nearly choked on air, ready to punch him, but Lian ignored the banter entirely.
He closed his eyes just a fraction. Something unfocused drifted across his expression.
After a long moment, he finally spoke. “That… really is me from when I was young.”
We all stared.
“This place,” he murmured, “must be a sealed fragment of my memory. Too old, too jumbled… I had forgotten it entirely. Only now, when the illusion dredges it up, do I begin to see it clearly.”
A wind blew across the mountain pass, carrying a faint scent of blood.
His eyes fixed on the burning hut in the distance, and his voice grew low. “Back then, my father had been dead less than a hundred days. The sect was still in mourning. I was supposed to stay in the quiet hall and cultivate, preparing to succeed him.”
He breathed in lightly, a breath that seemed to hurt. “That day, I was practicing calligraphy. The character ‘Lian’ took me forever to write. Brother Hua even laughed, saying my strokes were too heavy—like carving blood into the paper.”
He let out a laugh—not amused, but brittle.
“Brother Hua—my Left Guardian—was a few years older than me. We grew up together. He had just finished sharpening my brush when noises erupted outside. I remember him frowning and going to look… and the next moment, firelight spilled through the window lattice.”
His voice trembled, almost imperceptibly.
“The fire started from the east corridor. By the time Brother Hua pushed the door open, the flames were already rolling in. He grabbed my hand and said, ‘Don’t be afraid.’ But I was too young… I just stood there watching the fire creep closer. He kicked open the window, snatched me up, and jumped.”
Lian paused. His fingers curled slightly.
“The moment we landed, armed soldiers rushed in. Court soldiers. Not a word spoken. Their blades reflected in my face—I was too scared to make a sound. Brother Hua shielded me as we fled, but for some reason that day… the Blood Lotus Sect’s protective array and traps never activated. The attackers moved like they already knew every path.”
“I was dragged along while behind us came shouting, crying, the sound of burning timber. Then—” He drew in a deep breath. “I slipped. The ground was covered in ash; my foot slid. A blade swung from the side. Brother Hua turned back and blocked it for me. His blood splashed across my face. I couldn’t even scream.”
“Everything after that… I forgot.”
His voice was nearly swallowed by the wind. “When I next woke, I was in the quiet hall. Brother Hua was gone. The attackers were nowhere. The elders told me he protected me, carried me out of the fire… and vanished. They said I was too shaken, so they gave me Forget-Worry Powder to seal the memory away.”
Lian lifted his eyes slightly. A faint red glow moved in them.
“Only today, seeing it again, did I remember.”
My mind felt scrambled. Sympathy, shock, and something I couldn’t name all surged at once.
So I asked, “Your Brother Hua… he was never found afterward?”
Lian shook his head.
A sudden thought struck me, and I blurted out, “Hold on—your Brother Hua was the Left Guardian. So what is Hua? Hua Daddy? Hua Brother? Wait—Hua and Hua… Hua-shang—don’t tell me Hua is your Brother Hua?”
The air froze.
Hua’s face went black instantly. “I’m Hua, not Hua-with-another-radical! And for the record, my father is Elder Hua. I only returned to the main altar at eighteen. How would I have time to be the young master’s nanny?”
I nearly burst out laughing. Even Mu Cangli’s shoulders were shaking.
Lian, however, remained calm. He nodded. “It isn’t Hua. Brother Hua’s name was Hua Xiang, from a collateral branch of the Hua family. After he disappeared, Hua was nominated as a candidate for Left Guardian.”
“I see.” I nodded. “Still, kind of similar. Hua Xiang, Hua-shang, and you even used to travel under the alias ‘Hua Shang.’ Sounds like you were acting out a whole replacement drama.”
Hua’s face darkened another shade. “Say that again.”
I coughed and shut up immediately.
Lian explained seriously, “It’s not a replacement. It’s tradition. The position of Left Guardian has alternated between the Hua and Hua-branch families for generations—symbolizing continuity and renewal.”
He paused, voice softening. “I thought we both died that day. I never expected to wake up still in the sect—only with no trace of Hua Xiang anywhere.”
His lashes lowered. “After that, I had nightmares every night. In them he lay on the ground, the sword stuck in his chest, the fire flaring behind him as I was dragged away. The scene repeated over and over until they medicated me.”
I reached out and patted his shoulder lightly. “You went through a lot.”
Then I couldn’t stop myself from adding, “But… the masked kid we just saw didn’t block any blade for you. That doesn’t match the plot. And besides—” I glanced around. “Why are we trapped in this illusion? What’s the mechanism here?”
Mu Cangli frowned in thought. “If this really is an illusion array, then the pivot must be that sword strike. According to the sect master’s memory, Hua Xiang should block the blade. But in what we just saw, the two kids were captured by soldiers before it could happen. That means the key moment was interrupted. The memory cycle can’t close, so the array won’t break.”
I slapped my thigh. “Exactly! While Lian was telling the story just now, those two kids were taken by soldiers. Without me stepping in, the plot changed again!”
Hua clicked his tongue. “So what, you’re saying we need to force the masked kid to get stabbed again to fix the timeline?”
“…”
Mu Cangli said, “To break the array, we may indeed have to restore the original conclusion. Arrays tied to the heart only dissolve when the memory completes its loop.”
Hua spread his hands. “Meaning we just stand by and watch the little version of our sect master get chopped while his guardian takes a blade for him, and applaud so the array collapses?”
I shot him a glare. “It’s… a valid approach.”
But Lian shook his head. His expression dimmed. “I’m not sure. Something feels wrong. This illusion isn’t merely replaying the past. Someone is manipulating it, forcing me to remember what I should have forgotten.”
“Manipulating?” I raised an eyebrow. “Who would be bored enough to do that?”
Lian looked toward the unnatural fog hanging over the mountains. “Perhaps… those who didn’t die that day.”
We all froze.
The wind suddenly felt colder. The shadows stretched unnaturally across the ground.
I coughed to cut the tension. “Alright, alright. No point worrying. The loop won’t let us out anyway. We’ll try it again and again until the truth shakes loose. With me here, illusion arrays fear me more than I fear them.”
Then I remembered something. I turned and tapped the silent boy beside us.
“By the way—we’ve been talking for ages, but never asked your name. Little brother, what do they call you?”