Amber’s well-meaning advice was enough to make Ban Xia seethe with frustration. Her simmering emotions boiled over into an insatiable hunger. She slammed her chopsticks onto the table with a resolute clatter. “Five pounds of beef, three pounds of lamb, and a jar of bamboo leaf wine—hurry up and serve it!”
Ban Xia could hold her liquor well. At company year-end parties, she was known to outdrink everyone at the table, leaving her colleagues passed out while she remained standing.
Half a jar of wine later, she wasn’t fully drunk, though her cheeks were flushed and her spirits high. Giggling as she walked, she began peeling posters off the walls. In those days, paper was precious. These weren’t ordinary posters; they were official notices, wanted ads, and bounty announcements. As Ban Xia gleefully tore them down, Xuan Ye trailed behind her, apologizing profusely or hastily reattaching the posters with spit and a slap.
Their antics led them to an imposing estate. Spotting a particularly intriguing poster, Ban Xia tore it down with a dramatic flair. “This one’s good, really good! A thousand taels of gold for summoning a Taoist immortal! A thousand taels! How many grams is that?” She paused, drunkenly attempting to calculate.
“One tael is fifty grams, so a thousand taels is fifty thousand grams. At two hundred fifty per gram…” Xuan Ye started to explain, but Ban Xia interrupted as realization hit her.
“One million two hundred fifty thousand!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with drunken triumph. The staggering sum eclipsed her earlier melancholy.
“Post a notice, Taoist immortals of the semi-divine clan are answering this bounty!” she declared. Without hesitation, she marched to the estate’s door and banged on it loudly.
The estate belonged to the Xia family, evidently a household of considerable wealth. Ban Xia and her companions were led down a labyrinth of winding corridors by a servant, taking what felt like an eternity to reach a side hall.
The room was dimly lit and adorned with orchids. After waiting for a while, they were finally greeted by their employer: an elderly woman, frail to the point of emaciation, accompanied by a young man supporting her.
Another young man trailed behind, his demeanor humble and subservient. Ban Xia quickly surmised that the first two were the masters of the house.
The elderly woman was unremarkable apart from her frailty, but the youth caught Ban Xia’s attention. His face was sharp and delicate, almost feminine, with an unnatural pallor. Two faint red marks beneath his eyes hinted at poor health. Most peculiar was his gait—silent and nearly weightless, with a strange restraint in his movements.
“Greetings, Taoist. I am Xia Zhi, and this is my mother,” the young man said politely after seating the elderly woman. His tone was poised and practiced, suggesting a familiarity with formalities.
“You’re the head of the Xia family?” Ban Xia asked, her skepticism plain as she let out a small hiccup.
“I am,” Xia Zhi replied, his tone neither defensive nor servile. From his sleeve, he produced a silver banknote worth one hundred taels and handed it to Xuan Ye. “This is an advance payment. If the Taoist demonstrates even one skill, this money is yours to keep.”
“My skills are limited to exorcising spirits and capturing lost souls. They are not for casual display,” Xuan Ye replied evenly.
Xia Zhi paused, studying Xuan Ye for a moment, then placed the banknote on the table. “Very well. Take this as a deposit. Should you kill Zhan Xiao, you will be paid five hundred taels of gold. If you can capture him alive, the reward is one thousand taels. I promise this sum without fail.”
Ban Xia’s eyes gleamed at the mention of the generous reward. Snatching up the note, she asked, “So, who is this Zhan Xiao? A demon or a ghost?”
“He is a corpse-walker, wielding a jade-handled longsword,” Xia Zhi explained.
“Does he have any distinguishing features? Perhaps a portrait?”
“I do not know his exact appearance, but he is always accompanied by a purple coffin. That alone makes him easy to identify.”
“A purple coffin?” Ban Xia repeated, startled. She let out a hiccup-laced laugh. “So, he’s a corpse-herder? Maybe there’s a Fifth Master inside that coffin!”
Xia Zhi stiffened, clearly baffled by her jest. Ignoring it, he bowed his head solemnly. “This Zhan Xiao went mad half a year ago and slaughtered nine members of my family. I have sworn to avenge them, even if it costs me everything.”
His grief was palpable, making the severity of his vow believable. Yet, as Ban Xia observed his demeanor, her eyes fell on his exposed wrist. His pale, slender arm was mottled with faint red spots. Coupled with the marks on his face, she was reminded of a colleague who had once suffered from aplastic anemia.
“Do you ever feel short of breath? Exhausted no matter how much you rest?” she asked abruptly.
Xia Zhi hesitated, his expression briefly startled before he lowered his gaze. “No, I am in good health. Thank you for your concern,” he replied evenly.
Sensing his evasion, Ban Xia knew it was not her place to press further. Instead, she waved her hand grandly. “No matter! Rest assured, we will avenge your blood debt. All you need to do is prepare the gold.”
“Charlatan. Another charlatan.”
The elderly woman, seated silently until now, suddenly spoke, her voice quivering with a mix of anger and derangement. Clutching Xia Zhi’s arm, she declared, “Zhi’er, we’re leaving. Take me to the shrine.”
Xia Zhi quickly bowed apologetically to Ban Xia before escorting the old woman out. Her gnarled hand clung to his arm with such ferocity that Ban Xia half-expected her to snap his slender limb.
“Farewell, miss. Zhan Xiao’s last known location was in the northwest, in Mo County,” Xia Zhi called back as they reached the door. His voice was as composed as ever, his movements light and deliberate as he disappeared from sight.
Hello everyone! This is the Midnight Scrolls team. Our translation of the story concludes here, as this is all the author has posted so far. If you see more than 6 chapters available in Chinese online, please let us know, and we’ll continue translating.
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