Chapter Text
No heart survives unscarred when its owner is hauled into the tempest of extreme misfortune. If one’s fate demands for one’s good providence to be dispersed instead of accrued and for one’s life to be lived throughout within a thick mist of misery, naturally their temperament will suffer the consequences of all the woes endured and all the wrongs received and, eventually, darken so that a ray of hope could rarely brighten it. Even worse when the heart cannot survive and ends up dead, strained and exhausted. Then, as its owner expires into the realm of the deceased, the darkness of their temperament evolves into a ghostly spirit nourished by resentment and not even the soul can escape the wounds of a tragic destiny, all the more so if it becomes known that such extreme misfortune was fated to oppress not them but another and that a switch of fates was inflicted by external forces. When fault is added to fate, the feelings of resentment morph into a need for revenge and the soul becomes trapped in the unyielding storm which surges thereafter.
Thus so happened to have been the life and death of a man called He Xuan, which was now widely known as the demon Black Water.
So many centuries had gone by since he had lost first his bride-to-be and his sister and then his parents at the hand of those external forces, which he had learned to have been led by the Water Master Shi Wudu, a god who had taken advantage of his divine powers to transfer all of the man's fortune to his own younger brother Shi Qingxuan. So many centuries had gone by since the agony of loss had tired him to death and turned him into a resentful entity, with a hate so strong that it later brought him to kill his way through the bands of monsters gathered on Mount Tonglu and become a supreme ghost king, recognized and feared by the world. Yet, not so many years had passed since he had executed his revenge against Shi Wudu and Shi Qingxuan.
Since then, his thirst for vengeance had dissipated, calmed, but, although he had conquered his enemies, he had still lost, for, if the one who had ordered the transfer was to him merely an enemy, the one who had unknowingly profited from it was one who had gained what could be called his affections. Therefore, in order to execute his revenge, he had had to cause immense pain to a companion he had cared for, though he had never admitted as much and he had at times denied such sentiments. He had treated him like an enemy, but he had been a companion whom he had willingly followed in countless wanderings and to whom he had expressed his attachment in ways typical of those whose words are reticent and cannot be spoken.
He Xuan’s luck had thus been as bad in death as it had been in life. Who was to know that the one who had used up all his good fortune was also someone who would never knowingly abuse others, who was generous to the point of letting himself be used by others and who was dear enough to be his first true friend in the world since his whole family had gone? Wretched luck had made him lose everything in life and the one thing he cared for in death. Of all the despicable people ever born it had to be him, the only one whom he could loathe but really not.
Love and hate had melded with each other and the confusion had tormented his soul.
Now that, to sooth his own spirit he had killed his friend’s brother and deprived his friend of his powers and godhood, that friendship had sunk in the depths of a sea so deep only his mind could dwell within it. He also knew that, in part, he himself had been at fault. Though his revenge was earned and just, all the same he knew that, for the mistreatment and betrayal of his friend, he could not hope to be ever forgiven and that their bond was forever lost to him. Still, as his mind could still reach those depths, he could not forget. Centuries of memories of feeling treasured would not dissolve and flowed through his eyes when the night was dark and his lair lonely.
Until the last moment, he had silently prayed that Shi Qingxuan would forsake Shi Wudu and stand by his side instead. Blinded by rage, He Xuan had desired Shi Qingxuan to kill his own brother in order to avenge him, unable to realize that such horrors went against his character. Still he had hoped, still he had been wrong.
Then why, when all was over, there was still hope in his dead heart?
Sometimes, when the storm of revenge has had its course and the winds of resentment fade, love and friendship resurface from the depths of the sea and, although they are wrecked, they are still all that remains.