Chapter 336 – Truths and Lies (XXII)

Chapter 336

Truths and Lies (XXII)

The sound of a chess piece hitting against the gilded board was quiet, yet the world around it was quieter still, causing it to echo.

It rippled outwards, as though tossing a pebble into a lake, causing a slight gust of wind.

The two men sitting on opposite ends of the chessboard, however, didn’t seem to register it. Pressed against the side and by the window, their focus was entirely on the board.

One appeared to be in his seventies, aged and weathered, with wrinkled skin, a graying beard, and balding hair. The top of the head was bereft of it whole, while the sides still clung to a few remnants.

He wore robes enshrouded in black and purple, with heads bearing features not quite human embroidered and stitched across the surface. Humming lowly as he picked up a knight and positioned it aggressively, his smirk was one of pride and self-satisfaction as his gaze wandered off the board and toward the man opposite him.

And opposite, indeed, he was–the man seemed no older than thirty, but there was no refinement to his appearance, unlike with the old man; his hair and beard were unkempt, his robes were tattered and full of cuts, and he smelled of alcohol entirely too loudly.

Despite that, however, the gaze within the inhumanly crimson eyes was sharp like a blade, entirely unflinching.

He took a swig from a gourd, downing a few mouthfuls of what the old man assumed was bodiva’s wine, before setting it down and using his bishop to take out the knight. The old man paused, frowning; it was such a beginner’s move, as the bishop had moved away from guarding the queen, but he never knew the ‘young’ man to be so careless. Could it be a trap?

Pulling back, he fell into deep thought, but he couldn’t see through it–if there was one. No matter how he calculated, if he took the man’s queen… he would simply have exchanged a knight for a queen.

And yet, he hesitated. It must be a trap, as simple as that.

As such, rather than taking the queen, he pushed the pawn diagonally, taking the bishop instead.

“Ever the coward,” the young man spoke rather snidely.

“I’ve outgrown my youthful stupidity,” the old man said. “And saw through your trap.”

“… my trap?” the young man arched his brows and suddenly laughed. “Ha ha ha. Aah, lil’ Yin’er, there’s no trap. I simply blundered.”

“… you’re lying.”

“Hm. If it makes you feel better, keep believing it,” the young man said with a chuckle, pulling the queen away from being in the direct line of the old man’s rook. “The more things change, the more they stay the same. That is why you’re still here, not a crown on your head.”

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“Hmph. I’m still here because of my lacking talents, Senior,” the old man said, stroking his chin. “Whether I was even more cowardly or as dumbly courageous as you, nothing would have changed. Hm?”

The old man suddenly felt something snap–both in the spatial ring on his finger as well as in his soul. Quickly reaching into the ring, he pulled out crumbling pieces of a stone tablet–it was old and weathered, but just a day ago, it was whole, radiating life energy… that was now gone.

“Who died?” the young man asked.

“…a disciple of mine,” the old man said, his gaze remaining on the fragments of the stone tablet. “Lu Yuhan.”

“… Lu Yuhan, Lu Yuhan… why don’t I know him?”

“He’s my newest one,” the old man said. “Took him in less than three thousand years ago.”

“How did he die?”