At long last, the ghost finished sharpening the blade. It gleamed so brightly it could reflect light, and it looked sharp enough to sever her head with a single swipe.
The ghost seemed to doubt the blade’s sharpness and tested it on his finger, lightly brushing it against the edge. Fresh blood immediately welled up. Satisfied, he turned toward Ban Xia, sword in hand.
The Next Morning
“Ban Xia! We need to leave now!”
Chi Xue knocked on Ban Xia’s door.
There was no response. The door was ajar, so Chi Xue pushed it open, only to find a drawing on the wall.
It was crude, like something a child might scribble, but upon closer inspection, it depicted a temple.
Next to it was a single character—hate—written in clumsy, bloodied strokes. The drawing had clearly been made using blood, just like the word.
“Ya Jin!” Chi Xue, though often slow to react, finally realized the gravity of the situation and bolted out the door, shouting.
Back at the temple, the ghost, now holding his sword, seemed hesitant. He measured Ban Xia’s thigh, shook his head, then compared it to her arm and shook his head again. After much awkward deliberation, he placed the gleaming blade directly against Ban Xia’s face, the cold edge resting on her nose.
“I have chronic sinusitis. My nose is always full of pus and snot. Please, please don’t eat my nose!” Ban Xia wailed.
The ghost paused, startled, and seemed genuinely put off by the idea of pus and snot. He moved the blade away from her nose and instead pointed it at her little finger, pressing his lips together as though deep in thought.
“Are you planning to cut off a piece of me to blackmail my friends?” Ban Xia asked, beginning to piece things together.
The ghost nodded.
“Do you have a grudge against my friend? Did Xuan Ye steal your wife?”
The ghost immediately shook his head.
“Then maybe you have a grudge against Chi Xue? But that little fool hardly has the ability to offend anyone.”
The ghost grew agitated, scratching his head. In frustration, he dipped his finger into his own blood and began writing on the ground.
Hate.
The word was large and bold, and next to it, he sketched something that resembled a pointy-faced creature with a sharp nose.
“What is this? A fox?” Ban Xia tilted her head and studied the drawing before suddenly realizing. “You mean you hate Amber?!”
The ghost nodded immediately, his mouth slightly ajar. Blood began to drip from his lips, flowing steadily.
“She killed you? Drained your life essence?”
The ghost shook his head.
“She killed your family? Your wife?”
The male ghost nodded this time—vigorously—with such intensity that tears welled up in his eyes.
“Grievances have their roots, and debts have their owners, ghost brother. If she killed your wife, go after her! Why are you targeting me?” Ban Xia started to feel wronged and muttered a few complaints before realizing: “Wait, are you under the impression that we’re on the same side as her? So you captured me to threaten Xuan Ye and the others into handing her over?”
The ghost frowned, giving her a look that clearly asked, Aren’t you all on the same side?
It seemed this ghost was rather gullible and easy to fool.
Ban Xia quickly cleared her throat, preparing a long explanation, but before she could begin, the camphor trees outside the temple suddenly rustled without wind. The sound was sharp and deliberate, carrying an unmistakable aura of anger.
Amber had arrived. She didn’t say a word, but the swaying treetops conveyed her intent clearly: This is between us. Leave others out of it.
The male ghost immediately stood, grabbed Ban Xia, and pressed the sharp edge of his sword against her throat in a show of menace.
The standoff lasted for half a moment before Amber sighed. She slowly stepped forward, signaling for Xuan Ye and Chi Xue to stay back. Finally, she spread her arms and stood motionless before a towering camphor tree.
“She’s saying you should release me and draw your bow to shoot her directly,” Ban Xia explained quickly.
The ghost hesitated, glancing at Amber in surprise.
The autumn wind blew gently, and Amber, along with the camphor tree, nodded as if in agreement.
At twenty paces, with his bow fully drawn and sword sharpened to a lethal edge, the ghost felt entirely confident. Without a second thought, he released Ban Xia, nocked the sword to his bow, and loosed it with all his strength. The blade, gleaming from its recent sharpening, shot forward with a sharp whoosh.
Ban Xia bolted out of the temple, but before she could get far, Xuan Ye caught her in his arms.
“Up!” Xuan Ye called softly, flicking his fingers to send his crescent-shaped blade flying.
Though light and less powerful, the crescent blade struck the flying sword, slightly altering its trajectory.
Amber, however, remained still, arms outstretched, unmoving before the tree.
The sword, though diverted, still struck true. It pierced her shoulder and pinned her to the tree behind her.
For a brief moment, blood gushed from Amber’s shoulder like a crimson ribbon.
The male ghost, both vengeful and satisfied, stomped his foot before leaping through the temple roof and vanishing into the night.
“Just now, that ghost said Amber killed his wife,” Ban Xia remarked uncertainly after Xuan Ye had taken Amber down and tended to her wound in the temple’s central hall.
“A mute ghost with no tongue, not particularly handsome, just a mere hunter—why would Amber go out of her way to harm his wife?” Ban Xia continued, voicing her doubts.
Even without Xuan Ye responding, she could see the logical inconsistencies in her own argument.
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