Tang Hua watched as Yuan Zhong headed toward a young girl in green—none other than Ji Tan Yin, the maid Tang Hua had chosen. He was surprised that she was still by the side of such a suspicious and eccentric Grand Monk. An idea sparked in his mind, and he suddenly called out loudly, “Be careful! Elder Ding Xu is furious with you. He’s probably going to send someone to capture you.”
Yuan Zhong didn’t even turn his head, only waved a hand dismissively.
Tan Yin, however, heard the words “send someone to catch,” and couldn’t help but glance back at Tang Hua. His eyes were locked on hers, a flash of wariness flickering through them.
This immortal is hostile toward me, Tan Yin thought to herself.
She lowered her head and quickly quickened her pace, catching up to Yuan Zhong.
Up ahead, Yuan Zhong was already drooling at the thought of the hot springs, grinning as he teased, “Hey, Little Ji, want to come with me to the hot springs? We could do something really fun together…”
But before he could finish, a commotion broke out at the inn as a scrawny man came storming out, shouting angrily, “Late by just a day, and now there’s not a room to be found! What kind of useless intel did you gather?!”
A small, jet-black crow perched on his shoulder was squawking furiously, seemingly arguing with him. Yuan Zhong raised an eyebrow—Meishan Jun, that gossip-loving immortal, had arrived as well.
“Meishan Jun,” Yuan Zhong greeted him politely.
As soon as Meishan Jun spotted him, his eyes lit up. He jogged over with a sycophantic grin, rubbing his hands together. “Grand Monk, fancy running into you here! By the way, those two jars of Drunken Dreams, Sleepless Nights wine you promised—I still haven’t received them, and, uh…”
“Oh, I forgot,” Yuan Zhong said nonchalantly.
Forgot... Meishan Jun turned away, wiping away a tear. Fine, fine. He’s the Grand Monk of the Fox Clan, after all—I’ll tolerate it!
“Can’t find a room?” Yuan Zhong asked, his face the picture of sincerity. “I could clear out a room for you, if you want. Just so happens I won’t be heading home for a while. How about we call it even for those two jars of Drunken Dreams, Sleepless Nights?”
Wine is irreplaceable, Meishan Jun thought, his expression stern with righteous indignation. He was about to flat-out refuse this shameless offer when a voice called from behind him, “Meishan.” The voice was rich and steady, with a pleasant tone.
Everyone turned to see a man dressed in white standing by the roadside. His long eyebrows extended into his hairline, his skin bronzed and handsome, with an air of strength. However, beneath his eyes was a delicate tear-shaped mole, and his expression, though gentle and charming, carried a hint of melancholy.
“Fu Jiuyun!” Meishan Jun exclaimed, both shocked and delighted. “You rascal! Where have you been all these years?!”
Fu Jiuyun approached with a smile and bowed slightly to Yuan Zhong. “I didn’t expect to run into the Grand Monk here. I’m honored.”
Yuan Zhong had only met Fu Jiuyun once before and wasn’t particularly familiar with him. However, Fu Jiuyun was no ordinary figure—he was a spirit born from the sacred Soul Lamp, which naturally fostered a sense of kinship between him and the Fox Clan, who served the heavenly gods. Before Yuan Zhong could respond, he noticed Fu Jiuyun turning toward Tan Yin. His smile deepened, and his gaze softened, like the warmth of spring, almost intoxicating.
“And who might this young lady be?” he asked, clearly intent on charming her.
Instantly, Yuan Zhong felt a pang of displeasure. He noticed Tan Yin staring blankly at Fu Jiuyun’s overly flirtatious face, and his mood worsened further.
Her eyes are practically about to fall out of her head! he thought, turning his head away with a cold expression.
Tan Yin continued to stare intently at Fu Jiuyun, growing more confused the longer she looked. After a moment, she suddenly let out a soft “Hmm?” and said, “You… you’re…”
He wasn’t human, nor was he immortal. His aura was very familiar to her—it was the aura of the Soul Lamp, no doubt about it. He carried the essence of the long-lost sacred artifact.
“I am Fu Jiuyun,” Fu Jiuyun replied, smiling warmly, pretending not to notice the Grand Monk’s growing coldness.
“You’re… strange,” Tan Yin said hesitantly.
Fu Jiuyun raised an eyebrow. “In what way?”
Tan Yin shook her head, falling silent. This sort of thing only happened in legends—objects crafted with a master craftsman’s utmost sincerity, given enough time, could develop their own spirit. She never imagined that the Soul Lamp had actually given birth to a sentient ghost in reality.
Meanwhile, Meishan Jun was enthusiastically dragging Fu Jiuyun into a rapid conversation, bombarding him with questions about where he had been all these years and lamenting the loss of a drinking companion.
Fu Jiuyun chuckled and replied, “I’ve been wandering the world lately, feeling inspired to compose a new song. When it’s finished, I’ll need you to critique it for me.”
“Hah! No problem at all! So, are you here to see Tianguang Kaihe as well?” Meishan Jun, eager for drinks, grabbed Fu Jiuyun and dragged him into a nearby tavern, refusing to let go.
Yuan Zhong, watching Tan Yin continue to stare at Fu Jiuyun, couldn’t stand it any longer. He stealthily flicked her on the forehead, a bit harder than necessary.
“A young lady staring at a man like that—aren’t you ashamed?” he whispered harshly.
Tan Yin rubbed her forehead but refused to take her eyes off Fu Jiuyun. After a long pause, she finally muttered, “He… isn’t human.”
“You just figured that out?” Yuan Zhong replied mockingly.
Tan Yin shook her head again. This was something she had only heard about in legends—that tools crafted with a craftsman’s utmost devotion could, over time, develop their own spirits. She never imagined she’d encounter such a spirit from the Soul Lamp in real life.
Fu Jiuyun emerged from the tavern in his elegant white robes, his ever-flirtatious face radiating charm. He was so dazzling that nine out of ten women on the street couldn’t take their eyes off him. The tenth was probably blind.
“Grand Monk, and this young lady, why don’t you both join us for a drink?” Though he addressed the Grand Monk, his eyes remained on Tan Yin.
In Tan Yin’s heart, a feeling of warmth and pride bloomed. She had crafted the Soul Lamp with her own hands, and though Tai He had once called it too ruthless, the fact that a spirit had emerged from it filled her with a sense of accomplishment, as if she were looking at her own child.
“Sure,” she agreed before the Grand Monk could even speak.
Yuan Zhong’s mood instantly plummeted. He hadn’t felt this awful in a long time.
0 Comments