The White Moonlight Disdained by the Male Protagonist of Redemption - Chapter 24.2

Someone pulled Feng Jingzhuo out of the pool.

His body barely held its human shape. His dragon tail and horns hadn’t disappeared. His pale face and the corners of his eyes were still covered in a few shimmering scales.

His long silver hair dripped with water, sticking to his cheeks. It was hard to tell whether his skin or his hair was more colorless.

The Flame Lord Wuji looked at him with deep sorrow and placed him on a rock near the pool. He dipped his hand in the water—and felt the boiling heat.

He sighed heavily. “How long are you going to keep doing this to yourself?”

Feng Jingzhuo whispered, “Why are you here?”

“If I hadn’t come, you might’ve died without anyone knowing.”

Feng Jingzhuo’s eyelashes trembled. After a long pause, he shook his head.

“I won’t let myself die. I still have something to do.”

The Fire Deity didn’t argue. Even if he did, he knew he couldn’t win. In the end, he might have to go against his own beliefs.

Some people… even when you want them to let go and find peace, they refuse.

He looked at the Soul-Bending Spike lodged in Feng Jingzhuo’s chest.

Again, he asked, “How long are you going to keep doing this?”

Feng Jingzhuo said softly, “I’ve been clear-headed for a long time.”

The Fire Deity gave a bitter laugh. “So there are different kinds of madness now? Your mind might be clear, but your heart is still lost. Even the cruelest torturer doesn’t do this much harm to others—let alone to himself.”

“For ten thousand years, because of you, I’ve lost countless hairs from stress! Come back to the god-realm with me. We need to find a way to remove that spike.”

Feng Jingzhuo sighed. He respected the Lord Flame Wuji deeply—but had disappointed him again and again.

“I’m sorry. I can’t remove it.”

“You’ll die if you don’t.”

“I’m supposed to die. That’s how I repay my sins.”

He couldn’t meet the deity’s eyes, so he looked away.

“But… not yet.”

The Fire Deity fell silent.

He said, “You know that ever since you wanted to activate the Reverse Time Formation, the God of the Underworld has been complaining to me every day. He sends more letters than all the other gods combined. The moment he saw you stab the spike into your chest, he told me right away. You should appreciate that.”

Feng Jingzhuo lowered his eyes.

The Fire Deity, Flame Lord Wuji continued, “No matter what happens later, I know one thing: there’s still time to change this. The pain of boiling water burning your body—normal pool water won’t help. At least use the divine spring of the heavens. It works better.”

Feng Jingzhuo looked at Muyu Pond.

The sun had already set behind the mountain. Moonlight quietly rose into the sky, breaking into small waves on the surface of the water.

He suddenly smiled. But that smile slowly faded.

“This pool… is the best medicine for me.”

He said, “I won’t take out the Soul-Bending Spike.”

The Fire Deity was about to speak but stopped when he heard him say calmly:

“Only a divine weapon this powerful can help me maintain the balance of reincarnation. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I won’t erase anyone’s karma. I only want to go back to that night… just that one night.”

Even now, talking about it made his mouth taste of bl00d.

“I want to go back to that night, to bring back the people who shouldn’t have died. My family… and my wife.”

The Fire Deity said, “Why must you go this far? Ascending to godhood means it was your destiny. Maybe the saying ‘heroes need no origin’ sounds harsh, but it’s true. How a god ascended doesn’t matter most—what matters is whether they protect the world.”

“The Jade God is no different from you. He’s still just as confident as ever.”

Feng Jingzhuo replied, “He is him. I am me.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I won’t judge him. But I also won’t compare myself to him just to make myself feel better.”

Feng Jingzhuo had been taught by Yao Yao, who had instilled in him a sense of right and wrong. He knew the weight of the past and his own conscience. How could he live by someone else’s example?

The Fire Deity stayed quiet for a long time, then sighed. “You’ve destroyed yourself over these ten thousand years. Even with a god’s body, you’ll reach your limit one day. You have no help for the formation. If you die before they come back—what then?”

He asked, “If your wish fails and you lose your life for nothing… is it worth it?”

Feng Jingzhuo looked at him.

And in that look, the Fire Deity knew—he had asked the wrong question.

Feng Jingzhuo said, “The only reason I’m still alive… is to do this.”

Had he thought about dying?

Yes. He had already reached that point long ago.

Everyone said he was mad. Even he didn’t know whether he was crazy—or if he had already died once.

But after coming back to life, he understood one thing:

If the sin isn’t repaid, then even dying adds to the guilt.

He looked up. Clouds were covering the moon.

“To me, this isn’t a choice. It’s something I must do.”

At this point, there was nothing more to say.

The Flame Lord Wuji finally nodded. “Take care of yourself.”

With that, he turned to leave.

Feng Jingzhuo called after him, “Flame Lord, the newly ascended God of Fortune doesn’t need to be stuck at the River of Passage. I won’t cause trouble for the God of the Underworld, and I certainly won’t harm him. The God of Fortune is still young—don’t let her suffer.”

The Flame Lord replied, “Worry about yourself first.”

Then he seemed to remember something. Turning back, he said, “If you’re too weak to deal with the demonic outbreak in Mount Wu, I’ll assign someone else to take care of it.”

“I’ll handle it,” Feng Jingzhuo said. “I’m just stopping by Luoxiang Mountain to pay respects. I’ll head to Mount Wu right after.”

“How long do you think you can keep this up?”

Feng Jingzhuo said, “As long as I live, I will fulfill my duty as mountain god.”

Flame Lord Wuji looked at him for a moment but said nothing. Then, with a flash, he vanished.

Even knowing how weak Feng Jingzhuo was, he couldn’t show favoritism by letting him rest. Indeed, the Scorched Sea of Divine Flame hadn’t burned away his divine mark—so his responsibilities remained. Of course, if he ever truly chose to rest, it would at least mean he’d started to care for himself again. That would be something.

Feng Jingzhuo steadied his breathing, formed a seal with his hands, and reluctantly retracted his dragon horns and tail. Supporting himself on a mossy stone, he slowly stood up.

His robes were still dripping wet, but he paid them no mind. Using a tree trunk for balance, he made his way back to the mountaintop and carefully cleaned each of the houses, one by one.

In the mountain lord’s chamber, new trunks had been added—so many they filled half the reception hall. Stacked neatly, each pile stood as tall as a person.

Feng Jingzhuo gazed at them for a long time, then stepped forward and gently ran his fingers along the edges.

Moonlight traced a faint scar across his cheek, but his gaze was even gentler than the moon itself.

“Yao Yao,” he murmured into the empty air, his voice lost and dazed. “Grandmaster… Yuzhu… Brother Xiao… Sister Tu…”

And finally, the name that was the very bl00d in his heart: “Yao Yao… Yao Yao,” he whispered again, “Yao Yao, don’t forgive me.”

“I’ll keep this life. Come and take it.”