Chapter Twelve: Memories of the Southern Capital (Part Three) The mountains and rivers bear witness, as do the old fires of days gone by.

The moment they passed through the city gates, the scene before them left the group utterly astonished. Lush greenery filled their vision, an oddity for any city. If not for the sight of a few passersby, they might have believed themselves lost in the wilderness. Yet, for a city this vast, its interior bore no resemblance to a proper settlement. Moreover, every person they had seen so far was elderly—there was not a single youth or child in sight.

These old men and women showed no surprise at the newcomers, nor did they stop to gawk. Only when their eyes fell upon the Second City Lord at the party’s side did they nod respectfully, which he returned with a silent dip of his head, uttering not a word. He moved with the quiet air of one who had never learned to speak, much like a primordial man.

Taken aback by this uncanny scene, the group turned to Jiang Wuyou, whose expression remained serene. She paid them no mind, simply following the man ahead. After their initial confusion, the group exchanged glances and, without a word, trailed after her. They walked for some distance before a tall building emerged before them—the only structure befitting a city they had seen since entering.

Inside, the décor was solemn and austere. The man took the main seat and gestured for them to sit as they pleased. Jiang Wuyou chose the first seat, with the three following her.

Once all were seated, the man finally spoke. “Now, tell me the reason for your visit,” he said, looking pointedly at Chen Zhiming and his companions.

Yu Ansheng rose and bowed. “Senior, we have come in search of a man named Yi Yun Song. He arrived here about a month ago. Might City Lord have seen him?”

“Yi Yun Song…” the man murmured softly, as if pondering. After a moment, his eyes narrowed dangerously. “What is your relation to him?”

Sensing the threat in the man’s words, Yu Ansheng replied with unyielding calm, “He is my uncle.”

“Oh?” The man’s lips twisted into a wicked smile. The next instant, he vanished. When he reappeared, he was standing directly before Yu Ansheng. He thrust out a single palm, sending Yu Ansheng flying backward. Blood gushed from the boy’s mouth.

Jiang Wuyou began to rise but, as if recalling something, sat back down. Chen Zhiming and his companion, however, were anything but calm. They hurried after Yu Ansheng, unable to comprehend why the City Lord had attacked a boy of only ten or so years merely for naming his uncle.

By the time they reached the outside, the figures were already hundreds of miles away. The two gave chase, following the traces left behind.

At the Southern Capital Cemetery, rows upon rows of gravestones stretched out in solemn order. Before one stone knelt a middle-aged man, and five others stood silently by his side. At that moment, a figure landed at the cemetery gate, dragging a youth—none other than Yu Ansheng—while Jiang Wuyou, dressed in white, was already waiting there.

The two exchanged a nod. Yu Ansheng was dazed, having thought himself doomed, yet the Second City Lord had merely struck him once and brought him here. When he realized their destination was a cemetery, his composure faltered entirely. What did this man intend to do?

From afar, Chen Zhiming and the other hurriedly arrived, spotting the three figures at the cemetery gate. Seeing Jiang Wuyou among them left them stunned, but they rushed forward, standing protectively at Yu Ansheng’s side, warily eyeing the man before them. At this, Jiang Wuyou explained, “No need to be so on guard. If the Second City Lord had wished to kill him, he would already be dead.” Then she turned to the man. “Why bring us here? What is it you want?”

The man regarded them and, hands clasped behind his back, walked ahead. “Follow me, and you will understand.”

They had no choice but to comply, weaving their way through the gravestones. Chen Zhiming could not help but ask, “Senior, who exactly is buried here?”

“Isn’t it written on the stones?” the man replied, pointing to the names engraved upon one nearby.

Chen Zhiming scratched his head awkwardly, but the man continued, “It isn’t a secret. Surely you noticed something unusual upon entering the city.”

Chen Zhiming ventured, “You mean that we saw only elderly people—no youth or children at all?”

The man nodded approvingly. “Exactly. Now, only the aged remain in Southern Capital City. All the men, women, and children you see buried here are its former citizens.”

Jiang Wuyou interjected, “I recall that last time I visited, the city was not so desolate. Did something happen?”

The man looked up at the sky and let out a long sigh. “Ten years ago, for reasons unknown, a certain man found a pretext to destroy Southern Capital. He sent a host of masters to attack. The six of us went out to meet them, drawing the battle outside the city to protect the people. But our foes were persistent. Even outside the walls, we had to worry about the city’s safety. We lured them further away, fighting for four days and nights. When we returned, the outskirts were a wasteland of smoke and corpses. Inside, the women and children had formed the city’s last line of defense.”

“We never imagined that man would stoop so low. It was a trap. While we fought outside, he led his army to attack the city. Out of misplaced loyalty, the people opened the gates for a man they once called friend, comrade, and companion. He betrayed them. The young and the innocent were slaughtered. A handful survived, but their wounds proved fatal. In the end, only the elderly remained, all who had lost their sons and daughters. As for us six city lords, we were left bearing the weight of our guilt.”

At this, Chen Zhiming and his friends were overcome with sorrow. They bowed deeply before the gravestones. Jiang Wuyou and the man nodded in approval, and then Chen Zhiming asked, “But why did they wish to wipe out everyone in the city? Was it only because Southern Capital was considered a city of sinners?”

The man laughed bitterly. “A city of sinners? That’s nothing but a feeble excuse dreamed up by those hypocrites—useless and shameless, monsters wearing human skin. If we were not bound here, I would have torn them all to pieces.”

Gu Wen, puzzled, asked, “Senior, why are you unable to leave?”

Jiang Wuyou explained, “Because of an oath, a command, and for the safety of the city, they cannot go farther than three thousand meters from Southern Capital.”

Gu Wen was only more confused. “Why?”

The man brushed fallen leaves from a gravestone, then began to recount:

“Decades ago, before Southern Capital was abandoned, the city was prosperous, filled with merchants and travelers. The city academy produced six martial prodigies, who, while still young, bested even the city’s Grand General. In those days, martial prowess was revered, and the six’s renown soon eclipsed that of the Duke’s eldest son—the current Duke. Fearing for his inheritance, he plotted against us, though we had no such ambitions. He tried to poison our cultivation with a pill that would block our meridians. His scheme was uncovered by his own sister, the Duke’s daughter, so he abandoned his plan, but remained uneasy.”

“Curiously, all six of us fell in love with the Duke’s daughter. She was married off to the heir of a neighboring state, a man of vile character. He had previously been accused of abusing his power and assaulting an innocent woman, but as the Duke’s son, he was barely punished. After she married him, her life was misery. Only when her maid risked everything to return to Southern Capital did we learn of her fate. The scandal spread, but opinions were divided—some believed it wasn’t worth offending another state over a county princess, others demanded her return and an apology. The Duke turned a deaf ear.”

“Incensed, the six of us resolved to rescue her. In the process, we killed the neighboring state’s heir and grievously wounded his retainers. We were pursued, and upon returning, the Duke, seeking to save face, tried to hand us over. The people who supported us pressured the Duke, who then used the opportunity to move the city and its loyalists, leaving us and those who remained behind. The city was renamed Sinners’ Capital and severed from the Mu Yun Prefecture. When the avengers from the neighboring state arrived, Jinwu City’s forces repelled them, but there had to be consequences. Henceforth, no one from Southern Capital could leave the city or cross its borders. If any did, Jinwu would abandon them. The neighboring state added a further condition—if all residents of Southern Capital perished, they would invade and kill us six.”

“From then on, the city became taboo, its name forgotten. The county princess chose to stay with us, but we did not know she was pregnant. She bore twins—a boy and a girl. We did everything to send them away. When the Duke led his army into the city, she leapt from the walls and died defending it.”

“Now, only a few hundred of us remain, all elderly. More die each passing day.”

He gazed at the drifting autumn leaves, his face lined with sorrow. “They say time heals all wounds. But when I see these gravestones, the lives turned to bones, I find I cannot forget. No matter how the years wear on, Southern Capital endures. The memory of those bloody days is etched in my bones. I will never forget.”

Catching himself, he turned to the stunned group. “Forgive me, I spoke at length. But you were meant to hear this.” He looked at Yu Ansheng, then walked deeper into the cemetery. “Come, follow me. There are some people you must meet.”