Immortal Mortal Chapter 1: The Fallen Prince

Translator: Sparrow Translations Editor: Sparrow Translations

Prologue:

“Hahahaha... Ruoyin, I finally managed to refine the Channel Opening Solution. I’ve succeeded...” Inside a chaotic laboratory, Mo Wuji erupted into laughter, clutching a porcelain bottle as if he had lost his mind.

“Ding...” A porcelain cup tumbled to the floor, scattering tea everywhere. A stunning woman garbed in a vibrant crimson cheongsam stood frozen at the doorway, her gaze fixed on the frenzied Mo Wuji. After a prolonged silence, she finally managed to speak, her voice quivering, “Wuji, did you succeed? Did you truly succeed?”

Mo Wuji gazed at the beautiful woman gracing the entrance. He understood that Xia Ruoyin had arrived to serve him tea. This revelation had evidently startled Xia Ruoyin, causing her to drop the cup in her excitement. It shattered upon impact with the ground.

“Ruoyin, there is absolutely no error this time. I sampled half the bottle, and I could distinctly feel a fiery sensation coursing through my meridians as they were progressively opened and widened. My meridians are still in the process of expanding, but we have achieved success.”

Mo Wuji, still clutching the porcelain bottle, eagerly approached the woman and took her hands in his. “Ruoyin, you have endured hardships. Throughout these years, my sole focus has been the research of the Channel Opening Solution, and I neglected you. Instead, you bore the burden of caring for me. Let us marry. Afterward, we shall establish a company dedicated to producing the Channel Opening Solution. I am convinced our venture will swiftly captivate the world.”

The woman’s composure eventually returned, though her voice still trembled slightly. “Did you secure the drug formula?”

Mo Wuji nodded. “Ruoyin, have no worries. All the information is on my laptop. Here, please take a look...”

Having spoken, Mo Wuji turned to retrieve his laptop. Suddenly, a chilling sensation pierced his back, followed by an agonizing agony. As he saw the glint of a blade protruding from his chest, the horrifying realization dawned: he had been stabbed through the heart from behind.

The pain induced extreme dizziness, and his strength rapidly ebbed away. Mo Wuji slowly craned his neck, his gaze involuntarily falling upon the hands gripping the blade. They belonged to Xia Ruoyin. His eyes widened in disbelief as he whispered, “Ruoyin... Why? Why?”

He simply could not fathom that the woman he had cherished for so many years would commit such a treacherous act.

“I’m sorry, Wuji. I’m truly sorry...” Xia Ruoyin’s hands trembled violently, a shudder coursing through her entire being. She had just taken the life of the man she loved. He was the one who had graced her with affection for over a decade.

Two teardrops welled in Mo Wuji’s eyes. He felt his body growing progressively colder. Consciousness began to slip away, and the light in his eyes dimmed. Yet, he resisted closing them, his gaze locked onto Xia Ruoyin as he murmured, “If you desired the formula... you only needed to ask, and I would have gladly given it to you... why?”

Mo Wuji’s tears were not shed for his impending death. For as long as his memory served him, he had never once wept. However, the deepest agony he felt today stemmed not from the wound in his back, but from the profound pain of betrayal by the woman he loved.

Perhaps not even Xia Ruoyin comprehended the depth of Mo Wuji's devotion. Had she merely asked, Mo Wuji would have readily sacrificed his life for her. Yet, Xia Ruoyin, the very woman for whom he would have gladly died, had plunged a blade into him on this grim day.

This question might linger unanswered indefinitely. Perhaps his spirit would never find peace in the grave. His fading eyes finally closed, leaving two crystalline tears clinging to their corners.

“Pa-ta...” Two streams of tears flowed from Xia Ruoyin’s eyes, gently landing on Mo Wuji’s eyes, seeming to wash away his final tears.

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The Fallen Prince

“Gua....” The piercing cry of a crow jolted Mo Wuji awake. Upon lifting his head, he observed a solitary crow soaring above, quickly vanishing with its shrill lament.

“Where am I?” Mo Wuji felt a profound sense of disorientation. He appeared to be seated upon a freshly constructed tomb, surrounded by seven or eight children kneeling before him. Among them, a young girl clad in a floral blue skirt held a bamboo basket beside him.

While Mo Wuji remained bewildered by the unfolding scene, the young girl softly whispered, her voice gentle, “Everyone behaved admirably today. However, there are no more sweets left, so let us conclude our play for now and return tomorrow to continue.”

“Were these games played during the previous emperor’s reign? Why does this scene feel so remarkably familiar?”

Mo Wuji experienced shock as the current unfolding scene eerily mirrored the final moments of Mu Rongfu from the novel. Mu Rongfu, driven to madness by his patriotic duties, watched as his beautiful cousin and childhood sweetheart, Wang Yuyan, left him for another. In the end, only his loyal servant Abi remained by his side. This present situation mirrored that, with Abi and several children playing around a seemingly deranged Mu Rongfu.

"Long live my King, goodbye my King. We will be back for more sweets tomorrow..." The children chanted in a disorganized fashion before dispersing.

Mo Wuji surveyed his surroundings, his gaze falling upon several young men and women passing by. His eyes locked onto a lady clad in a purple skirt, her beauty so captivating that he momentarily forgot his dire predicament.

The lady in purple exchanged a look with Mo Wuji. Her expression was a mixture of confusion, sympathy, and disappointment. The other attractive youths nearby appeared to be whispering and chuckling amongst themselves as they walked past.

“This… this cannot be…”

Suddenly, a dreadful realization dawned upon Mo Wuji. “Could it be that upon my death, I was reborn into Mu Rongfu’s body? Have our souls truly transmigrated into different bodies in this world?”

“And why would my soul cross over? What was I doing before this?”

A throbbing headache began to plague Mo Wuji as he tried to recall. He finally remembered that after he had successfully developed a crucial solution, the very lover he would have died for had betrayed him. This memory overwhelmed his spirit with profound sadness…

The intensifying headache prevented him from dwelling on the matter further. An overwhelming flood of information assaulted his consciousness. It took a full two hours before Mo Wuji could finally piece together what was truly happening.

He understood that he was no longer in the Song dynasty, nor had he merely been reborn into Mu Rongfu’s body.

This was not Earth at all! He found himself in Rao Zhou City, the capital of the Cheng Yu state. His name, in this life, was Mo Xinghe, the prince of Northern Qin Prefecture. His father had bestowed the name Mo Xinghe in honor of the Xing Han Empire.

Mo Xinghe couldn't quite ascertain the world's scale, but he knew the Xing Han Empire was not the sole dominant power. Each empire was subdivided into states, which in turn were further divided into numerous prefectures.

Mo Xinghe hailed from Northern Qin Prefecture, a part of Cheng Yu State, which itself belonged to the Xing Han Empire.

Nineteen years prior, Mo Xinghe’s grandfather, Mo Tiancheng, had been the lord of Northern Qin Prefecture. His sudden disappearance upon arriving in Cheng Yu state had left a void. Consequently, Northern Qin Prefecture required a new lord, a successor who needed the State Lord's endorsement.

Had Mo Tiancheng not vanished unexpectedly, he could have directly passed the title to his heir and simply notified the State Lord. However, Mo Tiancheng's absence and failure to officially designate a successor meant the new lord had to personally travel to the state capital to formally claim the position before all other prefecture and state lords.

Mo Xinghe’s parents had brought him to Rao Zhou City with two primary objectives: firstly, to find Mo Tiancheng, and secondly, for Mo Xinghe’s father, Mo Guangyuan, to garner recognition from the other lords and rightfully succeed his father’s position.

What was initially expected to be a straightforward succession devolved into a complex struggle. Mo Xinghe’s parents had expended vast fortunes and tirelessly pursued the goal for over a decade, yet they remained unsuccessful in securing the throne.

The untimely demise of Mo Xinghe’s parents from illness left Mo Xinghe to inherit his father’s fervent desire for the throne. Following his parents' death, the Mo family's resources were utterly depleted. Mo Xinghe spent several years wandering without any significant achievement. Upon learning that Northern Qin Prefecture had been seized by the Cheng Yu state lord, Mo Xinghe descended into madness, and subsequently, he was reborn as Mo Wuji.

Mo Wuji also managed to recall the identity of the lady in the purple skirt. Her name was Wen Manzhu, and her father held a close friendship with Mo Xinghe’s parents. Mo Xinghe and Wen Manzhu were childhood sweethearts, and although no formal betrothal existed, it was widely assumed they would eventually marry.

Ever since the Mo Clan lost their chance at succession, coupled with the death of Mo Xinghe’s parents and his subsequent mental decline, the Wen Clan began to distance themselves from Mo Xinghe. As Wen Manzhu matured, she drifted further from Mo Xinghe, gravitating towards princes from more influential families.

Feeling two drops of moisture on the back of his hand, Mo Wuji lifted his head from his knees. He saw a sorrowful young girl with a scar marring her face.

Much like Abi's steadfast loyalty to Mu Rongfu, Yan’Er was the sole individual who remained by his side, despite her status as merely a servant. If not for Yan’Er, Mo Wuji would never have experienced rebirth, and who knows how long the original Mo Xinghe would have remained deceased.

In addition to the scar marring her face, Yan’Er suffered from severe malnutrition. Her complexion was pale, her hair had turned a dull blonde, and she lacked the vibrant energy typically seen in young ladies.

“It still doesn’t add up…” Mo Wuji shivered. The Mo Clan was intrinsically linked to the royal lineage; even if Mo Xinghe’s father failed to ascend the throne, he should not have succumbed to poverty and illness in such a prosperous nation. Could he not have simply departed Rao Zhou City and returned to the Northern Qin Prefecture at the earliest opportunity? Or perhaps the Mo Clan received no financial or escort assistance?

Something was undeniably amiss…

Mo Wuji’s gaze lifted, observing Yan’Er delicately dabbing at her slightly reddened eyes as she softly inquired, “My King, may we depart now?”

Mo Wuji lowered his head and sighed, reflecting on Yan’Er’s plight as well as his current circumstances and the borrowed body. Even while engaging in such a childish game, Yan’Er maintained a respectful demeanor, seeking permission as if they were truly in a sovereign state.

However, Mo Wuji’s recovery was remarkably swift, and he recognized that self-pity was his most significant failing. He found himself in a vortex of conflicting emotions: gratitude for his survival, heartbreak over his lover's betrayal, and sorrow for his inability to return to Earth.

Noticing Mo Wuji’s prolonged silence, the exceedingly cautious Yan’Er ventured another question, “My King, the sky is growing dark…”

Mo Wuji let out a sigh, his eyes fixed on the distant setting sun. He was uncertain if the melancholy stemmed from thoughts of Mo Xinghe or from a lamentation of his own predetermined fate. Finally, he uttered, “Let’s return…”

He observed the surprised expression on Yan’Er’s face and, without offering further explanation, sighed again and stated, “Let’s head back to the dynasty…”

With that declaration, he intended to rise, brush the soil from his legs, and depart. Yet, his legs, having been crossed for an extended period, had become numb and unresponsive. Fortunately, Yan’Er was there to assist him in standing.

As Yan’Er helped him emerge from the sparse woodland, Mo Wuji was engrossed in reorganizing the jumbled thoughts swirling in his mind.

“What kind of world is this…?” he murmured to himself after they had walked in silence for a few minutes.

“My King, what did you just say?” Yan’Er asked, clearly not comprehending his earlier utterance.

Mo Wuji shook his head, “Yan’Er, please refrain from addressing me as your King any longer. Refer to me by my name.”

Given that Mo Wuji and Yan’Er would continue to share their lives together, there remained certain matters that required clarification.

A wave of emotion washed over her, and Yan’Er, clutching a bamboo basket with trembling hands and eyes brimming with tears, eagerly inquired, “Young Master, are you feeling better?”

Mo Wuji responded with a slightly hesitant smile, “Perhaps I haven’t fully recovered or recalled everything, but I shall no longer act or dream like an imbecile as I did before.”

Mo Wuji, wary of revealing too much, opted to simply state that his recovery was incomplete.

“Then…” Yan’Er appeared poised to say more, yet hesitated, seemingly afraid to.

Mo Wuji understood Yan’Er’s unspoken question: whether he intended to continue these games with the children the following day. She feared that such activities might trigger painful memories of the previous dynasty’s events, potentially leading him to another episode of madness.

Gently patting Yan’Er’s back, Mo Wuji chuckled and declared, “I have already lived the life of an Emperor and am thoroughly weary of it. Let us forgo this tomorrow and instead focus on how to navigate our lives ahead.”

Yan’Er’s bamboo basket slipped from her grasp, and tears streamed down her cheeks as she sank to her knees, unable to cease her soft, self-directed murmurs…