Black Magic Rose Chapter 21
byChapter 21: The Enemy’s Tears
Wen Jingheng’s awakening caused a massive stir in the Wen Family and the entire Supernatural World. The once brilliant Savior had miraculously returned after years of silence—this should have been a cause for great celebration. However, Wen Jingheng soon discovered that the world was no longer the one he remembered.
During his first family meeting after waking up, he sensed an unusual atmosphere. The elders spoke respectfully, but their eyes held scrutiny and suspicion. They repeatedly questioned the details of his awakening, glossed over Shu Yijin’s existence, but paid extraordinary attention to the changes in Wen Jingheng’s internal power.
“Jingheng, you have just woken up and still need rest,” said the First Elder, Wen Qingcang, his tone gentle but carrying an undeniable forcefulness. “We will handle family affairs for now. You should focus on your recovery.”
Wen Jingheng nodded impassively, a cold laugh echoing in his heart. What they feared was never the Evil God, but a Savior they couldn’t control.
What chilled him further was his parents’ attitude. His mother burst into tears the moment she saw him, but behind those tears was an urgency to probe the details of the Seal; his father patted his shoulder and said, “It’s good you’re back,” yet his eyes constantly assessed Wen Jingheng’s remaining value.
Only the Black Rose mark on his chest and the obsidian cufflink on his pillow emitted a faint warmth in the silent night, reminding him that those moonlit whispers and careful tending were not illusions.
Three months later, when Wen Jingheng had mostly recovered his strength, the high-ranking officials of the Supernatural World finally came calling. Leading the group was Lin Zhenfeng, a comrade who had fought alongside him years ago, now the Director of the Supernatural Administration Bureau.
“Jingheng, we need you.” Lin Zhenfeng got straight to the point, pushing a stack of documents toward him. “Shu Yijin is the Evil God from back then. He is currently active in the Northwest Desert and has already destroyed three border cities.”
The photos in the documents made Wen Jingheng’s fingertips tighten. They were blurry satellite images: a figure with long, flowing hair standing at the center of a sandstorm, behind him the burning ruins of a city. Even with the rough pixels, he could recognize those crimson eyes.
“According to intelligence, his next target is the Loulan Ruins,” Lin Zhenfeng stared intently at Wen Jingheng. “There is an ancient Seal there. If it is destroyed, the consequences will be unimaginable. Only you can stop him.”
Wen Jingheng silently flipped through the documents. Every page accused Shu Yijin of crimes, each one seemingly backed by solid evidence. The person who had meticulously wiped his body, the one who had softly read poetry under the moon, had now become an unforgivable demon.
How utterly… ironic.
Three days later, Wen Jingheng led a team to the Loulan Ruins. The desert night was exceptionally cold, the moonlight casting a layer of salt over the broken walls and ruins. He found Shu Yijin by the central altar.
The person stood with his back to him, waist-length black hair gently swaying in the wind, his crimson robe more glaring than fresh blood. Hearing the footsteps, he slowly turned, his red eyes shimmering with an eerie luster under the moonlight.
“You came.” Shu Yijin’s tone was as flat as if commenting on the weather.
Wen Jingheng waved his team members back to the perimeter. When only the two of them remained by the altar, he spoke in a deep voice: “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” Shu Yijin chuckled, twirling a strand of hair around his finger. “Destroying cities? Breaking Seals? Or… deceiving you?”
The last three words were like poisoned needles, stabbing painfully into Wen Jingheng’s heart. He tightened his grip on the long sword—the ancestral divine artifact of the Wen Family, which had once drunk the Evil God’s blood.
“Stop all of this, Shu Yijin.” Wen Jingheng took a step forward. “It’s not too late to turn back now.”
“Turn back?” Shu Yijin sounded as if he had heard the biggest joke, yet a faint trace of sorrow flashed in his red eyes. “Turn back where? To the Wen Family to continue being an Auspicious Marriage ornament? Or back to your side to be a gentle ‘wife’?”
With every word he spoke, he took a step forward. When only three feet separated them, Wen Jingheng smelled the familiar cold fragrance, mixed with the scent of blood.
“Wen Jingheng, you and I both know this was a deception from the start.” Shu Yijin’s voice was soft, yet every word was damning. “I used you to break the Seal, and you… weren’t you also using me to awaken?”
This sentence shattered Wen Jingheng’s last defense. He recalled the various anomalies in his family after his awakening, and the elders’ evasive eyes. Perhaps from the very beginning, he was a pawn used by the Wen Family to restrain the Evil God, and Shu Yijin’s appearance was merely a new variable in the game.
“Come back with me.” Wen Jingheng’s voice was hoarse. “I promise…”
“You promise what?” Shu Yijin interrupted him, his red eyes full of mockery. “Promise the Wen Family won’t lock me in a lab? Promise the Supernatural Administration Bureau won’t grind my bones to dust? Or promise that you… will stand by my side?”
The last question brought silence to both of them. The moonlight flowed like water over the altar, stretching and overlapping their shadows, like a silent dance.
A sound of urgency came from the team members in the distance; time was running out.
Wen Jingheng looked at the face so close to his and suddenly remembered many details—the slightly trembling fingertips when wiping his body, the fleeting tenderness in his eyes when reading poetry, and the cufflink left on his pillow when he departed.
Was all of that truly just acting?
This thought led him to the most impulsive decision of his life. In Shu Yijin’s astonished gaze, he lunged forward and tightly embraced the person. The hug was so forceful it felt as if their bones would be crushed together.
“I don’t want to kill you.” Wen Jingheng buried his face in the other man’s neck, his voice choked. “Come with me. I’ll take you away from here.”
A warm liquid dripped onto Shu Yijin’s shoulder. It wasn’t rain; it was tears.
Shu Yijin’s body froze, a flicker of disbelief in his red eyes. Feeling the trembling of the person in his arms and hearing the suppressed sob, a fissure cracked open in his thousand-year-old frozen heart.
But the next second, he fiercely pushed Wen Jingheng away.
“Don’t be naive, Wen Jingheng.” Shu Yijin turned his back, his voice as cold as the desert night wind. “You are the Savior, and I am the Evil God. We… were born to be enemies.”
With that, he transformed into a streak of red light and vanished from the center of the altar. All that remained was a wisp of cold fragrance and the damp tear stains on Wen Jingheng’s shoulder.
When the team members rushed over, they only saw Wen Jingheng standing alone in the moonlight, tightly clutching the obsidian cufflink in his hand.
“He got away.” Wen Jingheng’s voice was devoid of emotion. “Notify headquarters. The target fled deep into the Western Regions.”
No one saw the moisture glistening at the corner of his eye when he turned, nor did anyone know that the “fleeing” Evil God was currently hidden in the shadows of the ruins, his red eyes fixed on Wen Jingheng’s retreating figure until his fingertips dug into his palm, drawing blood.
That night, the moonlight over the Loulan Ruins witnessed the Savior’s tears and the Evil God’s resolute back as he turned away.
And neither of them knew that this encounter had been fully observed by a third party hiding in the dark. The scout sent by the Wen Family elders quietly retreated into the darkness, a smug smile playing on his lips.
The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind. This play has only just begun.