Chapter Ninety-Nine: The Scripture of Great Calamity

They brought medicine? What is wrong with Senior Season? Does he need to take medicine?

Crimson Letter rose at once, meaning to take the bowl. She had already noticed the small window high in the prison door; the cell she had once occupied was the same way. Prison meals were handed in through the opening, and if one was slow to take them, the person delivering food would simply toss them inside without a word.

But Season Wind caught her hand and said to the visitor most rudely, "Open the door and bring it in. I happen to have business with you."

The visitor sounded troubled. "Grand Master, I do not have the key to this cell!"

Season Wind said impatiently, "Then go fetch the one who does. Tell him I have taken today's medicine."

The man hurriedly answered, "Yes, sir. Please wait." He spoke with sudden deference, and hurried off.

Crimson Letter was utterly baffled and asked worriedly, "Senior, what medicine are they giving you?"

"An all-purpose tonic. They are afraid this cripple of mine will not survive the prison's hardships and die on them."

Season Wind narrowed his eyes, then resumed his languid manner.

Crimson Letter blinked. She truly could not understand and asked, "Who are they? The elders of the Demon Refining Prison? Those old men are sending you tonics and begging you to drink them?"

"Yes. Normally I could not be bothered to indulge them, but since they have sent you to me today, I may as well give them the courtesy."

Crimson Letter only grew more confused, but since Season Wind had said so, the medicine was certainly not something harmless.

After a while, the old man who had brought Crimson Letter came hurrying back at the news. From outside the door, he exchanged a few greetings with Season Wind, then took the key and clanked the lock open.

The prison door swung open. A guard carried in a bowl of medicine. Season Wind told Crimson Letter, "Take it from him."

Crimson Letter replied and stepped forward to meet the guard. She had already forgotten the nosebleed Season Wind had smeared across her face. The guard, however, lifted his head at that very moment and, in the lamplight, saw it all at once; his hand trembled, and he nearly spilled the bowl.

Season Wind frowned and watched the three of them without speaking. The old man asked respectfully, "Does Grand Master have any further orders?"

Season Wind pointed at Crimson Letter. "Remove the chain from her leg."

The old man was startled, then smiled. "Grand Master is truly kind to the fair sex." He immediately turned and instructed the guard who had brought the medicine, "Go fetch the key and remove the female cultivator's fetters."

The guard obeyed and left. In no great while, the heavy fetters that had bound Crimson Letter for more than two years were taken off.

Season Wind was likewise in high spirits. He took the medicine bowl from Crimson Letter's hands, did not even look at it, and tipped his head back to drink the dark slurry dry.

Seeing this, the old man smiled. "If Grand Master can keep taking this decoction, then within a month at most I guarantee your body will be restored to its former peak."

Season Wind had no wish to speak with him further. He waved him away. "Enough. You may all go. Do not keep me from resting."

The old man stepped forward at once to collect the bowl, then carefully checked whether the lamp oil was sufficient before leaving with the guard and locking the cell once more.

"How could you drink it all so quickly? What if there was poison in it? And can you even spit it out now?" Crimson Letter was both puzzled and worried.

Over the years, Season Wind had lived in suffocation and suppression. He had never been a man of good temper to begin with. Now his personality had become even stranger; while confined in this Black Tortoise Prison, he often found ways to stir up trouble simply for amusement. Yet at that moment, beneath the lamp, he looked at Crimson Letter, whose originally lovely face had been smeared into that of a little tabby cat without her even realizing it, all while she wore such a solemn, old-fashioned expression. He suddenly found it terribly amusing and burst out laughing.

Crimson Letter stared at him in amazement. Season Wind laughed harder and harder. After a while, he realized that he had not felt this happy in many years. Shaking his head, he rarely bothered to explain himself to Crimson Letter, but this time he said, "Nothing to worry about. They are more afraid of my dying than I am."

Crimson Letter was at a loss for words.

To torture a person mercilessly, yet at the same time keep him supplied with miraculous medicines and be terrified of anything going wrong—that could only mean this man was holding something extraordinarily important over them. Unless it was pried out of his head, they could not allow him to die.

Sure enough, Season Wind went on in a much better mood. "Earlier you said my dear brother knows some water-aspected insight art. Then you certainly do not know that this is a secret technique passed down in my family, called the Great Calamity Manual. My Season clan once had its glory. With this Great Calamity Manual, our ancestor accomplished earth-shaking feats with nothing more than Nascent Soul cultivation. Do you know how Shang Intoxicated could find the Mirage Shrine back then? It was not at all as people now claim, that the demon cultivators' fate had run out and Heaven caused Shang God-Transformation to stumble into the shrine by accident. My ancestor and Shang Intoxicated were sworn brothers in life and death. The time and location of that Mirage Shrine's appearance were both calculated by my ancestor with the Great Calamity Manual."

Crimson Letter's eyes widened in shock.

"Could the Mirage Shrine really be calculated?" she blurted out. "Then Season Cloud would be..."

Season Cloud was also a Nascent Soul cultivator, and ambitious as he was, if he found the Mirage Shrine, no one knew what this world would become.

Season Wind gave a contemptuous snort. "What's there to fear? Such a fuss over nothing. I am kindly broadening your horizons, so listen obediently until I finish."

Lying on the bed, he shifted into a more comfortable position and tucked one arm beneath his head before continuing. "At that time, demon cultivators were rampant, and the appearance of the Mirage Shrine in the depths of the Endless Sea was a matter of the highest importance. Our ancestor feared some error might arise, so he accompanied the expedition and waited outside the shrine. The Great Calamity Manual cannot divine its own bearer, and while Shang Intoxicated underwent the trials inside the shrine, enemies came for my ancestor. He was killed, and half of the Great Calamity Manual was snatched away by demon cultivators. But by then the demon cultivators hoping to enter the shrine were already too late, and could only flee into the distance."

Crimson Letter gave a sharp cry of shock.

Season Wind nodded at her and continued. "Shang Intoxicated in the shrine knew nothing of any of this. By the time the Heaven Curtain cut off the realm of the righteous and the demonic, it was already too late for him to recover that half of the Great Calamity Manual. My ancestor's only son, like me, had a metal spiritual root and ordinary talent. This family supreme art was exceedingly difficult to cultivate, and he spent his entire life reaching nothing beyond perfected Core Formation. Moreover, with only half of the Great Calamity Manual left to inherit, he could scarcely accomplish much. He merely, with Shang Intoxicated's help, built this Demon Refining Prison and used the Great Calamity Manual to distinguish good from evil and restrain the demon cultivators who had not yet withdrawn beyond the Heaven Curtain."

So that was the origin of this Demon Refining Prison. No wonder Season Cloud had been able to control the other elders and dominate everything, while Season Wind had fallen to such a state and yet people like Ren Chen still treated him with considerable courtesy, never taking things too far.

Crimson Letter no longer dared interrupt Season Wind. Her thoughts raced like lightning, and suddenly she remembered the words Dai Bright Pond had spoken in the Vast Splendor Hall before the whole Crimson Cliff Sect after her grandmaster died: that taking disciples in the Deity-Transformation realm had been a way to send them to the demon cultivators' side to search for the missing portions of a technique for Season Cloud. It turned out to have been true.

Season Wind had reached this point in his tale when he suddenly smiled at Crimson Letter and motioned for her to come closer.

Crimson Letter had little guard against Season Wind. Seeing this, she thought he found her too far away and that speaking while lying like this was inconvenient, so she leaned her head closer. Then Season Wind suddenly raised his free hand, pinched her cheek between three fingers, and gave it a sharp tug.

Crimson Letter cried out in pain and surprise, "Ow!" She quickly pulled free, covered one side of her face with her hand, and glared at Season Wind in annoyance.

Without that wonderfully striking face, the clarity of her gaze under the lamplight was like autumn water, unexpectedly and breathtakingly moving.

Season Wind laughed aloud, and his laughter carried unmistakable self-satisfaction. Between laughs he said, "Little girl, there is no need to worry. Our Season clan's ancestors feared above all that their descendants might turn out unworthy, so they were always very cautious in choosing the inheritor of this half of the Great Calamity Manual. It was only because my father and mother died early that that bastard found an opening. After all these years of fighting, both of us have learned most of the half-volume. If he wants to learn the rest, he will have to come dig it out of my head. Right now, that bastard thinks everything is under his control. What he fears most is that I will close my eyes and stop playing his game. With you here, I will naturally keep you safe."

Crimson Letter stared, then simply said loudly, "If you keep bullying me like this, I will not play with you anymore either!"

Season Wind heard her force out such a line and his features twisted. He suddenly rolled over on the bed, buried his face in the pillow, and his shoulders shook.

Crimson Letter could not tell whether he was crying or laughing. She only heard the dark chain hanging through his shoulders jangle incessantly, and little by little she began to feel some pity.

Senior Season had been locked in this lightless prison for so many years, and on top of that he was crippled. He must have been lonely and stifled beyond measure. Now that someone he trusted had suddenly come to keep him company, it was only natural that, in his excitement, he would act strangely, like a child with no place to put his hands and feet.

She took her hand away from her cheek, lightly patted Season Wind on the back, and called, "...Senior!"

Season Wind abruptly lifted his head, drew a deep breath, and then laughed heartily, the sound carrying far out through the prison.

"..."

Crimson Letter thought he was pitiable and decided not to hold it against him.

After laughing for a while, Season Wind saw that Crimson Letter still had no reaction, and gradually quieted down as well.

He cast her a sidelong glance, amusement still lingering on his face. "Come, girl. My back itches terribly. Use your hands and scratch it for me, and I will tell you another secret."

Crimson Letter was naturally interested in the "secret" he wanted to tell, but what she felt more deeply was sorrow.

Ten years ago, he had still been a heroic man who came and went like the wind. Now he was trapped in this prison, bound by iron chains, and had lost both feet. If he wanted to bathe, the prison guards surely would not refuse to serve him, but he probably did not wish to summon them for help.

So Crimson Letter did not think of the fact that the body before her belonged to an adult man. She slipped her hand beneath Season Wind's clothes, her nails brushing over his somewhat rough skin, and patiently scratched at his itch while following his many commands of "left, right, up, down." As she did, she said softly, "Later we should ask for some hot water. Let me help you wash up."

Season Wind was silent for a moment, then suddenly said something entirely unrelated: "Back when we were in the Crimson Cliff Sect, the few formulas I taught you for healing the spirit sense were actually the opening lines of the Great Calamity Manual."