When Yuan Zhong returned to the inn, two of his clan members were already there guarding the place. As soon as they saw him return unharmed, they both let out a sigh of relief.
“Elder Ding Xu is already aware of Zifei’s death. It is a great fortune that you managed to escape unscathed.” The two clan members, wearing expressions of awe, half-kneeled before him.
Yuan Zhong smiled, “If I couldn’t escape unharmed, why would I even bother coming here?”
The Grand Monk had a peculiar personality—his moods were unpredictable. On good days, he could joke around with anyone, but on bad days, he ignored everyone. Knowing his temperament, the two clan members didn’t dare speak further.
“Those old fools like Ding Xu still haven’t learned their lesson?” Yuan Zhong asked as he took off his dirty outer robe. “Fighting with the War Ghost Clan—today Zifei dies, tomorrow who knows who will die. Maybe they’ll be satisfied when we’re all dead.”
The two clan members exchanged uneasy glances, unsure how to respond.
Yuan Zhong untied his tangled long hair and slowly began to comb it. Suddenly, he said, “Leave. I need to bathe and change.”
One of the clan members hesitated before quickly saying, “Your Highness, the Grand Monk, Elder Ding Xu sent the two of us to assist you...”
“Go back.” Yuan Zhong set down the comb and turned to face them, expressionless, but his eyes were cold. The two clan members felt a chill run down their spines as his gaze swept over them.
“But... the clan members from Orange Lake... even though they’ve been separated from Fangwai Mountain for a long time, the more deeply we clash with the War Ghost Clan, the more all the clan members will be affected. Unity is the right path. Today, you stood up for them. They shouldn’t refuse Fangwai Mountain…”
“Don’t make me repeat myself a third time,” Yuan Zhong interrupted coldly. “Go back and tell Elder Ding Xu that after he reattached my severed right hand, I’ve repaid the favor. How he acts from now on has nothing to do with me.”
Is the Grand Monk really preparing to leave Fangwai Mountain?! The two clan members were shocked. They had grown up on Fangwai Mountain, and the rules set by the elders like Ding Xu were as immutable as iron laws in their minds. Yuan Zhong’s actions were nothing short of rebellious.
“But...” One of them wanted to say more, but at this moment, Yuan Zhong’s face had turned cold as water. Fear gripped them, and after hesitating for a moment, they saluted and left.
Fighting all day long—what, as if the Fox Clan were truly skilled in battle? They were just using him and his left hand as a tool for killing.
Yuan Zhong cast a barrier around the inn, removed his fake face, revealing the bloodstained half beneath. Glancing in a mirror, he saw a fresh cut on his forehead. He didn’t care and tore off his clothes, plunging into a tub of cold water.
He wasn’t in a good mood. After all, seeing one of his clan members die in front of him wouldn’t put anyone in a good mood. What’s more, Zifei had been fine before; he had only sent him to investigate Ji Tan Yin’s identity. In the end, it was his own paranoia about Ji Tan Yin, who was now dead, making Zifei’s death seem even more pointless.
When the monk Xinmao died, his only worry had been about Yuan Zhong. After spending so much time with Elder Ding Xu and the others, he had done countless dishonorable things and had changed greatly. Elder Ding Xu had once said that this was his destiny. After so many years, that hand had finally reappeared in the clan, and Yuan Zhong was destined to be the tip of the Fox Clan's blade, ruthlessly slaying any enemy.
Monk Xinmao had once asked him: Yuan Zhong, let me ask you—do you trust anyone in this world besides yourself?
At that time, he didn’t answer. Even now, he still couldn’t.
Monk Xinmao had said: Our clan once lived so freely... That was his last sentence before he passed away.
Yuan Zhong let out a soft sigh, splashed cold water on his face haphazardly, and leaned back against the tub, staring blankly around the room. On the table sat a teacup—just this afternoon, Ji Tan Yin had used it to drink tea. In the blink of an eye, she was dead. Of course, he had played a role in it. Perhaps, given the chance to do it again, he would still make the same choices without hesitation. But Zifei's unjust death made him feel guilty even toward Ji Tan Yin.
He needed to leave. What Monk Xinmao had described as freedom—he didn’t know what that was. But staying on Fangwai Mountain would only make everything worse.
He took a towel to wipe his face and was just about to get up when suddenly he heard a creak from the window. The well-locked window silently opened, and Ji Tan Yin, who was supposed to be dead, had just half-climbed into the room through the windowsill, only to find him sitting naked in the tub. Both of them froze.
On her way there, Tan Yin had thought of countless ways to explain her situation. For example: "I have a special constitution, so I didn’t die," or "I’m a craftsman, so freezing me doesn’t work." But upon reflection, only an idiot would believe such excuses. She had no solution, so she rode her mechanical bird in circles outside, deep in thought.
Should she borrow another body? However, even though she hadn’t spent much time with Yuan Zhong, she could tell he was extremely suspicious. He probably wouldn’t even use a maid. The only reason he had used her before was out of suspicion. Even if she borrowed another body and infiltrated Fangwai Mountain flawlessly, she wouldn’t catch even a strand of his fox fur.
Besides, it had been pure chance that she had been able to borrow this body in the first place. Where in the world could she find another coincidence like that?
Unable to come up with any clever plan, she decided to just go meet him directly.
The lock on the inn’s window was as good as nonexistent to her—she could open it with a fine copper wire. The barrier set by the Fox Clan didn’t bother her at all. She had prepared herself for the Grand Monk’s absence from the inn, or perhaps for him to be asleep or eating, but she hadn’t expected him to be bathing.
Water was still dripping from his hair, and droplets clung to his long eyelashes, trembling and swaying. Under those lashes were two bright eyes, sharp like a deity’s, with slightly upturned corners. His skin was extremely pale, likely due to constantly wearing a fake face. Tan Yin suddenly understood why he wore that mask—such a face, once seen, could never be forgotten. The intense yet cold beauty was enough to drive anyone mad.
Yuan Zhong stared at her at first, his eyes filled with surprise and bewilderment. But in almost an instant, his gaze turned colder than ice. With a splash, he pulled Tan Yin, causing her to stumble and half-fall against the edge of the bath. Behind her, the window silently closed.
His left hand, ungloved, hovered less than a hair's breadth from her neck. She could distinctly feel the chilling coldness radiating from his fingertips, but her expression remained unchanged as she calmly lifted her head to meet his gaze.
“…What are you?” Yuan Zhong’s voice was low and unkind, without a hint of politeness.
He didn’t believe a mortal could survive—her entire skeleton shattered by the War Ghosts, then frozen by his ice, yet she appeared before him unharmed. Had she been possessed by some demon? Or was she something else entirely unknown to him?
He had encountered undying demons before—the monsters from the Twenty-Four Caves of the Southern Barbarians, who couldn’t die even when their heads were severed and sliced into pieces. But he had never seen, nor believed in, an immortal human. Could he have misjudged her? Was Ji Tan Yin not a mortal? But there was no trace of demonic energy in her, and he trusted his ability to distinguish between humans, demons, and immortals.
Tan Yin thought for a long moment before finally saying, “I am Ji Tan Yin.”
Yuan Zhong gave her a strange smile, and in the next instant, she felt her entire body go numb. Thick ice and snow instantly enveloped her, freezing her in place. She sighed inwardly, gently parted her lips, and blew softly. The thick layer of ice instantly turned to powder and fell to the ground with a soft rustle.
She gazed at him calmly, her voice soft, “I won’t harm you.” After a pause, she added, “Nor will I harm the Fox Clan.”
Yuan Zhong looked at her as though she were a monster, saying nothing.
Only then did he notice that this girl seemed subtly different from before, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what had changed. Her nose, eyes, and mouth were the same, even her hairstyle hadn't changed. Yet, something was undeniably different.
The Ji Tan Yin he remembered seemed more human—a girl of seventeen, with pretty yet dull eyes and a calm, slightly naive demeanor. Now, her eyes were too bright, like black gemstones. A fleeting memory of those eyes flashed in his mind, making him feel absurd.
He took a step back, turning around. The robe hanging on the rack seemed to come to life, flying toward him and automatically wrapping around his body. When he turned back, he was already wearing an ordinary, unremarkable mask.
Tan Yin felt like she needed to say something. She had anticipated the Grand Monk might get furious and try to kill her, or that he would bombard her with questions. But his silence left her at a loss for what to do.
“Uh…” she began, but before she could continue, the Grand Monk suddenly transformed into a beam of golden light and vanished from the room in an instant.
…He had run away.
Yuan Zhong was riding on the back of a Jile Bird. He had been in a bad mood already, and now it was even worse. A series of questions and an unknown sense of fear weighed heavily on him.
He was confident that no immortal, demon, or human could escape death—not even the mighty War Ghosts could resist his left hand. So why couldn’t he kill Ji Tan Yin? Unable to kill her, he had no choice but to flee. When had the Grand Monk of the Fox Clan ever been so humiliated?
Suddenly, he sensed something off behind him. He turned his head and saw Tan Yin riding on a strange mechanical bird, trailing him from a distance.
An unrelenting pest! What exactly was she? Where did she come from?
Yuan Zhong reached into his robes and pulled out a jade chess piece—a trinket he had taken from Tang Hua to amuse himself with. He aimed at the chest of the mechanical bird and flicked the piece. With a sharp crack, some intricate mechanism inside the bird must have broken, as it wobbled unsteadily and plummeted down.
He let out a sigh of relief, only then realizing that cold sweat covered his back. He gave a bitter smile—everything that had happened tonight was utterly absurd. Was he having a nightmare?
In the distance ahead, golden light flickered, and Yuan Zhong immediately recognized it as the Fox Clan's barrier. This must be the territory of the Orange Lake Clan. A sudden sense of security washed over him, bringing a wry smile to his face. Finally, it felt like he was home.
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