Xuan Ye, a man of few words, wasted no time. His fingers curled, gripping the blade, and in one fluid motion, he unsheathed it, gathering energy in a seamless attack.
“I should die?” Chi Lian repeated mockingly. With a casual wave of his hand, the cave’s lights were extinguished. “But… you’ll be coming with me.”
Xuan Ye instinctively held his breath and flung the Moonlight Blade upward. Its light illuminated the ceiling, but it was already too late.
Chi Lian had vanished. The once lavish cave was now in complete disarray, filled with jagged rocks and crumbled stone.
As the blade’s light spread, Xuan Ye spotted two faint green glows in the depths of the cave. He moved swiftly toward them.
At the end of the cave, he found a damp stone wall dripping with water, covered in moss.
High up on the wall, a soul-sealing nail engraved with scripture pinned a long serpent skeleton in place.
The skeleton stretched nine feet in length, unmistakably from a monstrous snake. Time had eroded the remains; the head was nothing but a skull.
Yet, in the empty sockets of the skull, Xuan Ye saw two faint green lights. He could even sense the faint, sinister smirk—a smile distinctively Chi Lian’s.
“A lonely life…” the cave echoed with a voice that seemed to come from nowhere. “Let’s bring it to an end together.”
Blood began seeping from the ground beneath Xuan Ye’s feet, endless and untraceable.
The entire cave began to change.
The Moonlight Blade’s light intensified, illuminating the cave walls, which began to grow snake-like patterns inch by inch.
The foul stench of blood and decay filled the air as if the entire cave was being covered in freshly shed snake skin.
A single drop of cold blood fell from above, landing on Xuan Ye’s forehead.
In that moment, a deep sense of foreboding crept over him.
It felt as though Chi Lian had no intention of escaping.
Nor did he plan to fight.
Instead, it seemed the snake demon wanted to drag Xuan Ye into destruction alongside him—an end to their shared loneliness, together with this cursed life.
Finally, freedom. After countless days and nights of imprisonment.
Su Yun rose from the dust, her heart bursting with joy. Lifting the hem of her skirt, she dashed southward at full speed.
This was the capital. Her lover lived in the southern district, in a courtyard with a persimmon tree that bore fruit so sweet it could overwhelm the senses come autumn.
This scene had replayed in her mind countless times. No matter how much time had passed, she could close her eyes and still find her way there.
Sure enough, the courtyard was still there. The persimmon tree stood as vibrant as ever, though fewer fruits hung from its branches. Yet, the remaining ones were as red and luscious as she remembered.
Nothing had changed. Just like old times, she leapt lightly and plucked a persimmon with ease.
This was the power Chi Lian had given her—a spiritual energy that allowed her not only to maintain a corporeal form but to interact with the mortal world almost exactly as if she were alive.
It was wonderful.
She smiled, taking a bite of the persimmon without bothering to peel it, and reached out to knock on the door.
No one answered for a long time.
It didn’t matter. Hang Sheng was a heavy sleeper, especially at night. She kept knocking.
At last, someone came. A woman’s voice, laced with irritation, echoed as she approached, grumbling and cursing.
Perhaps it was Hang Sheng’s wife. That didn’t matter either. She was a ghost now. All she wanted was to see him safe and know that the silver she had left behind had truly saved him. That would bring her peace.
She had let go of her attachment to him, so when a plump woman squeezed half her face through the door crack and glared at her, Su Yun didn’t feel the slightest anger.
“Hello,” she greeted politely. “I’m looking for Hang Sheng.”
“Which Hang Sheng?” The woman’s voice, though harsh, was oddly melodious.
“Xu Hang Sheng.”
“There’s no such person here!” the woman snapped and slammed the door shut.
Su Yun stood there, stunned. She looked up at the gate, then at the persimmon tree, unsure of what to do.
Then the door creaked open again. The plump woman poked her head out, her expression slightly confused.
“Xu Hang Sheng?” She knocked on her own head as if trying to jog her memory. “Oh, are you looking for that lecherous, dirty old uncle of mine?”
Behind Qi Feng Tower, Xu Hang Sheng had grown so old that he had almost forgotten who he was.
“Winter’s coming…” he muttered, crouching by a small furnace, fanning the fire. “The girls need nourishing soup…” He spoke to no one in particular, his words drifting into the air.
Nearby, two courtesans whispered to each other, laughing softly.
“Old Xu’s getting creepier by the day,” one giggled, nudging her friend. “Last time, the way he looked at Feng Yi when he brought her sweet soup… it was like he wanted to eat her whole. I don’t know why the madam doesn’t kick him out.”
“I heard he owes the boss a fortune. So much that he could never pay it back in a hundred lifetimes. That’s why he’s stuck here working as a servant for life,” the other replied, covering her mouth with a handkerchief to stifle her laugh.
As they gossiped, a cold wind swept through the courtyard. The sudden chill made them shiver and blink, and when they looked up, a young woman was standing before them.
She seemed about twenty, her petite face blank with an almost dazed expression. She rushed up to them, her voice urgent. “Where is Hang Sheng? Xu Hang Sheng! That woman said he’s here.”
The two women screamed and fled like startled birds, leaving the courtyard empty save for an old man. His face and hands were pitted with scars, and a foul stench clung to him, carried on the wind.
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