“Oh.” Chi Xue responded softly, clutching his flower. “Madam, may I leave instead? I’m not very good at rolling like my family’s dog, Ah Huang, who can roll over and over effortlessly.”
His reply amused the old procuress so much that she chuckled despite herself. “Where did this fool come from?” she thought. She glared at him for good measure and snarled, “I said roll! You’ve already dirtied my wall!”
“Oh.” Chi Xue placed his flower down, bent over, and, headfirst, actually rolled—crookedly—until his forehead smacked into the wall with a loud “thud.”
The procuress was doubled over with laughter, clutching the wall for support. Just as she was wondering how else to toy with him, Feng Yi appeared.
“Mother, why are you tormenting someone?” Feng Yi asked, her voice heavy with the scent of wine. Her drowsy, drunken eyes glanced over as she helped Chi Xue up. “This young man is so delicate-looking. He’s clearly fallen on hard times. You shouldn’t treat him this way.”
“Why are you out here? What about the guests? Didn’t three important patrons arrive?”
“They’re all passed out under the table by now,” Feng Yi laughed. Despite being a courtesan, she carried an air of boldness. “And I’ve had enough myself. Just came out for some fresh air.” With that, she pulled out a small piece of silver from her pocket and placed it in Chi Xue’s hands.
“Take this, young man. Everyone has hard times.”
“I’m Chi Xue,” he murmured awkwardly.
“So it’s Young Master Chi. My apologies.”
“I can’t take your money. I’m not a beggar.”
“Then consider it a loan,” Feng Yi replied with another cheerful laugh, her demeanor refreshingly unpretentious. “Pay me back someday.”
Chi Xue glanced at himself, clearly doubting his ability to repay. After an awkward pause, he blurted, “Then I’ll tell your fortune! I know how to tell fortunes.”
“Alright.” Feng Yi leaned down. “Tell me when I’ll finally escape this wretched life.”
Chi Xue nodded solemnly. Taking her hand, he pricked her fingertip to squeeze out a drop of blood, which he smeared over his eyelids. He then closed his eyes.
Activating the Tranquil Mind Technique, the world fell silent—no wind, no rain, no desires, no self.
Fragments of images began to surface: a copper coin, a reddish-brown snake, a mountain cave, a ghost… and guttural moans.
He saw Feng Yi’s open eyes, her expression frozen in terror, as if the sky were collapsing.
The vision abruptly ended. Chi Xue, drenched in sweat, gripped Feng Yi’s wrist tightly and exclaimed, “You’re in grave danger, very soon, and it’s connected to a snake!”
Feng Yi froze, then, after a moment, laughed. “Really?” She seemed entirely unbothered.
Chi Xue’s heartbeat gradually returned to normal. He took a deep breath and added, “But it might not be accurate. My foresight is always half right and half wrong.”
The procuress burst out laughing. “Half right, half wrong? Isn’t that as good as nonsense? Ha…”
Chi Xue lowered his head.
“It doesn’t matter,” Feng Yi said, tilting her head back with a radiant smile that revealed her bright eyes and pearly teeth. “Thank you anyway.” With that, she turned and walked away.
“Be careful! Remember… remember… don’t touch any copper coins!” Chi Xue called out loudly behind her.
“Alright,” Feng Yi replied casually, waving her hand as she stepped through the courtyard gate.
“It probably wasn’t him,” Ban Xia said at Marquis Shi Lang’s residence after the three-minute battle ended. She watched as the old ghost was sealed into the Moonlight Blade, her unease evident. She repeated herself: “It definitely wasn’t him.”
“It wasn’t him,” Xuan Ye confirmed, his voice calm but firm as he sheathed his blade. “If it were him, he wouldn’t take such a huge risk to scout around. He would’ve fled after exacting his revenge.”
“Then who could it be?!” Marquis Shi Lang raised his voice in frustration.
“That remains unknown.” Xuan Ye rubbed his temple, his weariness evident, his voice hoarse. “If it’s convenient, Marquis, we’d like to stay in your residence to continue our investigation.”
“Of course,” Shi Lang agreed readily. Having seen Xuan Ye’s ability to subdue the ghost, he was completely convinced of his skill. He called for his steward. “Take the Daoist Master and arrange guest rooms for them.”
It was clear that he still mistook Xuan Ye for a Daoist priest.
Xuan Ye didn’t correct him and followed the steward silently, his steps unsteady. Once inside the guest room, he bolted the door and didn’t exchange another word with Ban Xia.
The next day, when the sun was high, Ban Xia woke naturally, enjoyed breakfast in the Marquis’ household, and then went to knock on Xuan Ye’s door.
To her surprise, the usually diligent Master Xuan had only just gotten up. He was wiping his face with a handkerchief.
His complexion was pale, but his sharp features made his profile stunning. Ban Xia leaned against the doorframe, watching him with an amused expression. “You say you’re not a Daoist. Then how did you learn to subdue ghosts?”
“Just like you—it’s innate,” Xuan Ye replied in his usual mild, harmless tone.
“Innate?”
“Yes. Ever since I encountered this blade, I naturally gained this power. It was as if it unsheathed itself overnight.”
“When did you come across this blade?”
Before Xuan Ye could answer, the steward rushed in, panting, with urgent news. “Master, Lord Shi Lang’s friend in the Ministry of Justice sent word. Another woman was killed last night in the same way as the Madam. The Lord asks that you both meet in the side hall and accompany him to investigate.”
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