Why

1,388 words

Chapter 126: Why

The Fire-Cloak Admonition Scripture?

Startled, Li Huowang reached out and took the strange book sealed in translucent wax. Through the solidified wax, he could make out the title on the cover. He realized he had been wrong. Yingzi hadn’t said a true sutra. She had said admonition.

The Fire-Cloak Admonition Scripture was the book’s name.

Even though the treatment process had been excruciating, Li Huowang understood the immense value of this object. “Why are you giving me this?” he asked, astonished.

“This one felt that Benefactor wanted it, so this one made a point of bringing it. That said, this book is not so easy to practice. You will need to learn an unusual kind of script first.”

Yingzi extended her hand. The wax shell on the book cracked open, revealing the contents inside.

“This is…” Li Huowang’s brow gradually furrowed.

It was a script formed from all kinds of circles. Large circles enclosing smaller circles, with tiny dots inside the small ones. Each circle was unique. He could not understand a single character. It was a writing system he had never encountered before in his life.

“If Benefactor wishes to understand this admonition, you must learn it from the very beginning. Only by mastering the celestial-fire patterns’ notes of gong, shang, jue, zhi, yu can you make better use of it.”

As she spoke, she drew another hand-copied book from her sleeve. “This is a reference between the celestial-fire script and ordinary vernacular. Benefactor can look it over.”

Li Huowang flipped through it quickly. The records inside were extremely detailed, the handwriting delicate and pretty—it looked like Yingzi had written it herself. Since she had gone this far for him, Li Huowang no longer tried to refuse. Honestly, he did need this right now. But there was no time to study it yet. He would pore over it slowly once they got out of this cursed place.

He tucked the two books away and turned to Yingzi. “You gave me these without permission. If the others find out, won’t you be in trouble?”

Yingzi lowered her head and shook it gently, saying nothing.

Li Huowang nodded in understanding, his gaze fixed on her with serious intent. “You have your troubles. I won’t ask. If others respect me a foot, I respect them ten feet. I still mean what I said. As long as you commit yourself fully to helping me, I can still lead you out of this demon’s lair.”

“Mm!” At these words, Yingzi couldn’t suppress her joy as she nodded.

“Benefactor, what do you need me to do? I can help you with anything.” A hint of eagerness crept into her voice.

After a wary glance around, Li Huowang lowered his voice. “Yingzi, since our goals are the same, you’re one of us now. And right now, I really do need your help.”

With that, he leaned in close and whispered something in her ear. Yingzi nodded along from time to time.

Half an incense stick later, they emerged from the cave one after the other.

Over the next two days, with Yingzi’s company, Li Huowang explored every corner of the entire cavern complex. He left no hidden spot unchecked. Shou San had kept his word—no one came to bother Li Huowang during that time. Even when they crossed paths with others, they were merely watched or passed by.

On the third day of his exploration, Li Huowang had completely memorized the layout of the entire cave system.

“Benefactor, you’ve finished recording everything. What should we do next?” Yingzi asked quietly from behind him.

His expression set, Li Huowang stared at the cavern before him for a long moment, then turned and walked back the way they had come. “Let’s go. We’ll head back first. We need to be careful of eavesdroppers.”

Yingzi followed silently behind him like a personal attendant. As he walked, Li Huowang’s thoughts were heavy. His expression shifted between grim and savage, as if he was wrestling with something.

Halfway there, someone blocked his path. It was none other than Shou San, his body charred black. A deeply unsettling smile cracked across his face, flakes of scorched skin falling from his cheeks to the ground.

“Xuan Yang, young friend, it’s already been three days. Have you come up with anything?” Shou San’s voice was cheerful. “Do you need this old man’s help? If you think the last method didn’t work, to be honest, I’ve thought of a new one today.”

Before he could finish, Li Huowang cut him off sharply, afraid of what filth might spill from the man’s mouth. “I don’t need it. I told you—I’ll find the way myself!” He pulled Yingzi along and strode quickly toward his lodging.

Shou San did not stop him. He stood where he was, his eyes flickering with some indefinable light as he watched their retreating figures.

Only when the thin wooden door closed behind him, sealing out everything outside, did Li Huowang finally let out a breath. Living in this dragon’s pool and tiger’s den was utterly tormenting. It felt like dancing right on the edge of someone’s teeth.

“Benefactor, what do we do next?”

At Yingzi’s voice behind him, Li Huowang took a deep breath. He was about to say something when his expression suddenly froze. “Damn it. Not again.” He slid down, his back against the wooden door, until he sat slumped on the ground.

“Benefactor? Benefactor, are you alright?” Yingzi quickly moved closer.

But Li Huowang’s eyes were fixed blankly on the young woman before him. After a brief struggle in his expression, he spoke softly. “Mom? You’re here? I don’t want any oranges. Could you step out for a while? I have some things to take care of.” His manner shifted, becoming polite and coaxing. “I know. Of course I know. That side is an illusion. Don’t worry about my illness. I’m a little thirsty—could you go to the water room and get me some hot water? I don’t want water from the thermos. I want boiled water.”

“Benefactor…?” Yingzi asked hesitantly, watching the raving Li Huowang.

A moment later, Li Huowang, who had been smiling gently, suddenly turned deadly serious. His eyes darted around without focus. “Yingzi! Quick! Tie me up! Tie me to the bed! I’ll explain when I wake up!”

The instant the words left his mouth, his expression changed again. “Dad? Why are you here too? Don’t you have work today?”

Yingzi stood rooted to the spot, watching the red-robed Daoist babble at the empty air. But she did not follow his command to bind him.

“Mom, thanks. Don’t feed me—I can drink it myself.” Li Huowang’s hands reached out as if taking a cup from the air and tilted it toward his mouth.

Watching his gaping mouth, Yingzi’s trembling right hand reached inside her robe and pulled out a ball of iron thorns tangled together and studded with rusty nails. She held the iron bramble. Her expression flickered with hesitation for a moment. Then she put it back.

“Alright, alright. I’ll peel the oranges myself. You don’t need to come.”

When Yingzi’s lone arm emerged from her robe again, it held a bottle of medicine. She tossed the rusted iron bramble inside. It corroded with a hissing sizzle, billowing black smoke.

Soon, the smoking, corroded bramble was brought before Li Huowang’s face.

Woof… Mantou trotted over curiously, tilting his head at the scene he could not understand.

Thump! Yingzi’s right foot lashed out, sending Mantou flying across the room. The dog coughed blood, struggled to its feet, swayed, and then collapsed again with a stumble.

“Mom, stop peeling. I’ve had enough oranges already.”

Li Huowang reached out and took the smoking iron bramble.

Yingzi stood there, watching Li Huowang as if he were on the verge of death, her body even trembling with excitement. The iron bramble drew closer and closer to his mouth. But just as it was about to touch, it stopped.

The three fingers holding the corroded, bloodied iron bramble loosened slightly. The object slid past Li Huowang’s cheek, fell to the ground, rolled a few times, and came to a halt.

There was no trace of madness in Li Huowang now. He stared at the one-armed young woman before him with an icily indifferent gaze.

“Why?”

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Reading Guide Decoding

The Poison and the Orange: A Game of Trust

Cultural / Xianxia Notes

Let’s chew on the Fire-Cloak Admonition Scripture for a second. In the real world, the term “Fire-Cloak” (火袄) is a dead giveaway: it’s a fusion of Zoroastrianism (袄教)—an ancient Persian faith centered on fire worship—and Nestorian Christianity (景教), which also traveled the Silk Road into Tang Dynasty China. The Ao-Jing Sect’s whole aesthetic is a blend of these historical “foreign” religions, weaponized into a body-horror cult. That “celestial-fire script” and its gong-shang-jue-zhi-yu phonetic notation? That’s the standard pentatonic scale from traditional Chinese music theory (宫商角徵羽), eerily repurposed as a mystical language for invoking pain. It’s a beautiful, terrifying collision of Silk Road cultures: Persian fire rites + Chinese musical cosmology + a wooden-bone doctrine of suffering. This isn’t just worldbuilding—it’s the novel borrowing real, forgotten history to make its horror feel ancient and inevitable.

Also worth noting: the Admonition’s script—circles within circles—is a power move in itself. It’s a deliberate barrier to entry. In xianxia, secret texts usually require spiritual cultivation to read. Here, the barrier is linguistic. You need a teacher. You need trust. That’s why Yingzi giving him the glossary is a bigger deal than a sword manual—it’s handing him the key to the sect’s language.

Ao-Jing Sect (袄景教)

A fictional sect fusing Zoroastrianism (袄教) and Nestorian Christianity (景教); the original owners of the Thousand Greats Record and a pain-worshipping cult.

Chapter Overview

Whoa. This chapter swings like a pendulum between two poles: Li Huowang the shrewd opportunist and Li Huowang the shattered mental patient. On one side, he’s coolly securing a rare alchemical text from Yingzi and meticulously mapping the entire Ao-Jing Sect stronghold—a man playing 4D chess in a snake pit. On the other, we see him sliding into a full-blown hallucinatory episode, mistaking furniture for people, and talking to his mother about oranges. The real kicker? Yingzi—our seemingly devout ally—almost slips him a poisoned iron bramble while he’s vulnerable. This isn’t just a spy thriller; it’s a masterclass in how this novel weaponizes mental illness: not as a weakness to be pitied, but as a tactical opening for betrayal. Get ready, because the question hanging in the air—Why?—isn’t just an accusation. It’s a knife-twist.

Key Plot Points

The Gift: Yingzi presents Li Huowang with the Fire-Cloak Admonition Scripture, sealed in translucent wax. It’s a massive tactical upgrade—a pain-based power manual—but written in an alien script of nested circles. She also hands over a handmade glossary (“celestial-fire script”) so he can learn it.
The Pact: Li Huowang reads the gift correctly: an act of extreme loyalty. He reaffirms his promise to get her out of the demon’s lair—a bond sealed with the kind of grim respect that only desperate survivors share.
The Recon: For three days, with Yingzi as his guide, Li Huowang systematically memorizes every inch of the Ao-Jing Sect’s cave complex. No one bothers him, but the “permission” feels like a leash—a predator letting its prey stretch its legs.
The Interrogation: Shou San ambushes them on the way back, oozing false cheer and offering yet another “new method.” Li Huowang shuts him down hard, asserting control even when he has none. The power dynamic here is a fragile, terrifying dance.
The Collapse: Back in his room, Li Huowang’s madness hits like a freight train. He hallucinates his mother and father, asking for orange peels and boiled water. The scene is jarringly domestic—which makes it worse.
The Assassination Attempt: While Li Huowang is raving, Yingzi hesitates—then produces a bottle of acid, drops in a rusty iron bramble, and feeds the smoking mass to her “Benefactor.”
The Reveal: At the last second, Li Huowang stops. The madness drains from his eyes. He looks at her with ice-cold clarity. Why?

Reading Guide

Alright, fellow survivors. This chapter is a gut-check. Let’s talk about the elephant in the room: Yingzi’s betrayal. Or was it? The chapter ends on a masterful cliffhanger—Li Huowang catching that iron bramble mid-air and asking Why. But here’s the twist we have to sit with: he was pretending. Or, more precisely, he let her think he was fully lost. This is huge. Because Li Huowang is learning that his madness isn’t just a liability—it’s a weapon. He knows the pattern by now: when the hallucinations hit, people drop their guard. He let her watch him rave. He let Mantou get kicked. He let her produce the poison. Because he needed to find out who in this godforsaken cave was a friend and who was a tool. The cold question at the end isn’t shock—it’s a test. He’s giving her a chance to explain before he acts.

Also, pay attention to the small domestic texture of the hallucination. Oranges. Boiled water. A mother who peels fruit. This isn’t random. It’s a safe memory—the last sane warm thing his brain can project when the walls crumble. The novel uses these mundane details to make the horror of the Ao-Jing Sect feel even worse. Rust. Acid. Iron thorns. That’s the world that’s real. No wonder he keeps trying to crawl back to the hospital.

The fight isn’t just against Shou San or the cult—it’s against the part of Li Huowang that wants to stay in a room with his mother, eating oranges forever.