The woman led the way north, with Nan Wan following closely. Chong Zhao carried the child behind them, with Er Yun at his side. Strangely, Er Yun, who usually glared at Bai Shuo, was unusually quiet this time and hadn’t looked her way since Bai Shuo had appeared. With Nan Wan around, Bai Shuo couldn’t find any chance to talk to Chong Zhao, and for some reason, since leaving the inn, Chong Zhao hadn’t glanced her way even once. Knowing she had likely angered Chong Zhao by sneaking into Evil City, Bai Shuo kept her head low, looking dejected as she trailed behind.
Fan Yue walked behind them, wanting to cheer Bai Shuo up several times but holding back each time, casting a cautious glance at Chong Zhao. He looked like a timid little follower.
Meanwhile, Hua Da Tie followed the group with a mischievous grin, watching everything as if it were a spectacle.
Soon, they arrived at the northernmost part of Evil City, where most of the buildings were made of mud walls. The woman’s home was no exception, though the courtyard was filled with wine jars, and the air was thick with the smell of alcohol, suggesting she made a living brewing wine.
As soon as they entered the courtyard, a drunken old man stumbled out of the house, his bleary eyes searching around as he shouted, “Xiao Qiu Gua! (Little Autumn Melon), why are you only getting back now? Where’s my wine?”
Xiao Qiu Gua? Everyone gave the middle-aged woman a look, surprised that she had such a simple, rustic nickname.
“All you ever think about is wine, you drunken old man! Drink yourself to death!” she shouted irritably, but her hands weren’t idle—she grabbed a wine jar from the courtyard and tossed it at him. “Here, take it!”
“Well, that’s more like it! Xiao Qiu Gua, just put it on my tab, alright?” The old man chuckled, clutching the wine jar with his wild, white hair sticking up like a madman.
“Put it on your tab? You’ve been running a tab for a hundred years! Even if I sold your old coffin, it wouldn’t cover it.”
“You’re the best, Xiao Qiu Gua.” The old man laughed, hugging the wine jar as he staggered about.
“‘Best,’ my foot! Hu’er is sick. I need to take care of him, so get lost!”
“Hu’er is sick?” The old man, still hiccuping from his drink, stumbled over. “What’s wrong with the boy?”
“He ate something that didn’t sit well. Thanks to this Daoist here, Hu’er is fine now, so go back to your ‘coffin nest’!” Waving her hand impatiently, she shooed the old man away.
The old man took one look at the child in Chong Zhao’s arms, seeing his healthy color return, and grunted, “As long as he’s fine. Thanks for the wine, Xiao Qiu Gua.” Without further comment, he wandered off, hugging his wine jar. He didn’t even spare a glance at Nan Wan and the others.
Once he was out of sight, the woman set the child down inside and came back out, looking at Bai Shuo. “What exactly do you want to know, Daoist? Let me make it clear: if it concerns the safety of my people…”
“Don’t worry, Madam,” Bai Shuo said quickly. “You know we came to Evil City to find the Wu Tong spiritual artifact. I just wanted to ask if you’ve heard of a place called the Strange One’s Tomb?”
The woman blinked. “Strange One’s Tomb?”
Seeing her look of confusion, Bai Shuo felt a sinking feeling. Not good—if even the non-celestials didn’t know about a place like that, it must really be hidden!
“You haven’t heard of it, Madam?”
The woman shook her head, looking a bit apologetic when she saw Bai Shuo’s disappointment. “No, I haven’t heard of it.”
“No problem, no problem.” Bai Shuo could feel Nan Wan’s dagger-like glare on her back even without looking.
Great. After all that effort, they’d found nothing, and they’d wasted half a day. The head disciple of Yun Xiao might just skin her alive!
“If Madam doesn’t know, we’ll take our leave,” Nan Wan said curtly, turning to leave, his voice barely hiding his irritation.
“Your Majesty, wait! Let’s all go together!” Bai Shuo hurried to follow the scowling Nan Wan, but after a few steps, she turned back to remind the woman, “Oh, Madam, please take good care of Hu’er… Children can be greedy; don’t let him sneak any more Autumn Cicada Fruit.”
As Bai Shuo looked back anxiously, the woman bit her lip and suddenly called out, “Wait.”
Everyone stopped, turning to look at her, and she addressed Bai Shuo. “Daoist, as you aren’t from the non-celestial tribe, you may not know the customs for sending off our departed.”
Bai Shuo was curious. “What customs?”
“When a non-celestial passes, their name is inscribed on their tombstone. Therefore, every grave in Evil City has a name, except for the tombs in one place.”
Bai Shuo’s interest piqued, and she quickly returned. “Where is this place?”
“Nameless Mountain.”
“Nameless Mountain?”
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