Ji Tan Yin, female, spanning a thousand years—there were 503,524 women with that name throughout the land. Narrowing the search to those between the ages of fifteen and twenty eliminated most. Filtering further to those near Yuan City removed nine-tenths of the remaining names, yet the number was still significant.
Lord Meishan, exhausted from sorting through the records, was not only physically drained but also mentally. What was worse, despite all his efforts, he couldn’t find a woman who perfectly matched the Grand Monk’s description. Even more concerning, the girl from Yuan City who most closely fit the criteria wasn’t named Ji Tan Yin, nor did she come from a family of craftsmen. The Heavenly Book clearly stated: this girl had died at the age of eighteen.
Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Lord Meishan handed the Heavenly Book to the Grand Monk and cautiously asked, “Are you sure you didn’t get her name wrong? Could this be the one?”
Yuan Zhong examined the entry closely, frowning until his gaze landed on the portrait in the top left corner, and he let out a surprised “Huh.”
It couldn’t be mistaken—the image depicted the very Ji Tan Yin he knew, a woman from Yuan City. But her name wasn’t Ji Tan Yin, and she wasn’t a craftsman. Furthermore, she had died from a sudden illness at eighteen.
This could only mean one thing: she must have used a technique called soul borrowing, where a spirit takes over a body. No wonder Zifei couldn’t uncover any flaws.
The Ji Tan Yin he knew was a skilled craftsman, with a mastery that seemed extraordinary. She possessed a Qiankun bag, and his left hand couldn’t kill her... Yuan Zhong suddenly spoke, “This record spans a thousand years. Do you have anything older?”
Lord Meishan, his legs shaking with fatigue, sighed, “At most, I can go back five thousand years.”
“Can you find out who made the Qiankun bag?” Yuan Zhong asked.
Lord Meishan shook his head. “That was crafted by ancient artisans. The records were destroyed in the war between gods and demons, and the Heavenly Book contains no mention of it. No one in the world can investigate events from that time.”
Yuan Zhong fell into contemplation. After a long silence, he finally smiled and said softly, “Very well, we’ll leave it at that.”
Lord Meishan was on the verge of tears. He had spent ten days—without eating, drinking, or sleeping—trying to find the answer, only to come up empty-handed. All his efforts had been in vain, and his reputation was now at risk. Worse yet, the two jugs of Drunken Dreams were gone too!
“I’ll have the two jugs of Drunken Dreams sent to you in a few days,” Yuan Zhong, seeing through his thoughts, couldn’t help but laugh even more. “At least we found some clues. Thank you.”
At those words, Lord Meishan’s face brightened as if the sun had come out after days of rain. After days of downpours, the rain at Meishan Residence finally stopped. A rainbow appeared over the lotus pond, and the little spirit ghosts chattered excitedly, congratulating one another.
Yuan Zhong led the Jile Bird out of Meishan Residence. The flooded river in front of the door had vanished, revealing the small wooden bridge hidden beneath. The flowers by the bridge bloomed again, and their fragrance filled the air.
He glanced around, then looked back at Lord Meishan with a smile. “I don’t know what’s caused you such sorrow, but in the future, try not to get so emotional. Otherwise, you’ll waste this beautiful scenery.”
Lord Meishan’s face flushed. The truth was that he had confessed his feelings to Xin Mei, only to have the War Ghost General witness the entire embarrassing scene. Fu Jiuyun had once said that if you liked someone, you had to let them know. Summoning his courage, he had gone to confess to Xin Mei. Though the result wasn’t as ideal as he had hoped, knowing that she was happy brought him some solace despite his outbursts. Deep down, he was genuinely happy for her.
“At least…” Yuan Zhong sighed softly, “At least she’s real, living where you can see and touch her… Well, I’m off now. Take care, Meishan.”
The Grand Monk’s final words were heavy with meaning, but Lord Meishan, after seeing him off, closed the door and pondered them for a long time without understanding what he meant. The Fox Clan always spoke in such mysterious ways.
Now, where to go?
Yuan Zhong rode the Jile Bird, gazing out at the vast horizon. The sky was clear, and a warm summer breeze caressed his face and clothes. Though the world was wide, for a moment, he didn’t know where to go. The excitement he had felt after shaking off Ji Tan Yin had long since faded.
He was growing weary of the search for answers regarding Ji Tan Yin.
Since his youth, Yuan Zhong had followed Elder Ding Xu, chosen because of his indestructible left hand. Elder Ding Xu had wanted to mold him into the sharpest blade of the Fox Clan. Yuan Zhong had learned many things—many of them unsavory—and he had done countless dishonorable deeds. Because of this, Monk Xinmao would often shake his head and sigh when he saw him.
He had been taught to be suspicious. There were too many people who harbored ill intentions toward the Fox Clan, and even more who coveted his left hand. The slightest relaxation on his part would spell disaster for the clan. For the gods, for a chance to see the gods again, they would sacrifice everything—this was what Elder Ding Xu had taught him.
But he was growing more and more tired. The black gemstone-like eyes from his dreams were becoming more distant, so far away that they felt like a dream. He even wondered if the vision he had seen from the platform had been nothing more than his imagination.
Over the years, many of his clan members had died, many of them very young, including Zifei. Their deaths had been pointless. Elder Ding Xu showed no reaction, but Yuan Zhong found it harder and harder to accept. The image of Monk Xinmao’s gaze in his final moments grew ever clearer in his mind.
Later, Elder Ding Xu had ordered the execution of Li Chaoyang and Xin Mei. Yuan Zhong knew who Li Chaoyang was, but Xin Mei was just a mortal. Because she had married Li Chaoyang’s son, Elder Ding Xu had commanded her death to provoke the War Ghost Clan and escalate the conflict.
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