Chapter 55

Xue Tong was suddenly stunned by her question.

Before this, Xue Tong had never considered the matter. The signs on Xun Ruosu’s body were too obvious. Even if she stood completely still, she would draw wandering ghosts to her. On top of that, only she could casually dissolve karmic obstacles, transforming them into merits—and those merits could only be granted to others, never kept for herself.

The first trait could be chalked up to the Xun Family’s unique constitution, but what about the second? Not to mention how Xue Tong stalked her like a peeping tom, always tracking her precisely through every reincarnation.

“Look at the incidents after that,” Xun Ruosu continued, using her cinnabar brush to highlight several key dates. “That winter when I was ten, there was a major landslide that killed a few other kids my age. Starting from then, the next year, this person targeted a one-year-old child again.”

“In twenty-seven years, there were five reincarnations. The child born alongside me—possibly even connected to me someway—lived as long as ten years at most, or just one or two before meeting a cruel end. The mastermind was still pursuing her up until yesterday. I’m not certain if she died in that car crash.”

“She’s not dead,” Huang Xiaoran spoke up just then. “I may not know what you two are talking about, but last night when I got here, I inspected all the bodies. I had a feeling that this one is still alive.”

Though Huang Xiaoran was merely a half-body, she had been linked to her main body for five years now, her traces left at every crime scene. Her intuition might well be spot on.

“If she’s alive, the culprit will strike again,” Xun Ruosu concluded. She delved deeper into her ancient memories, probing for the truth. At this point, she had the distinct sense that she and Jiang Changting must have schemed together long ago, before she chose to enter reincarnation.

Xue Tong lifted Xun Ruosu’s chin with both hands, forcing her to tilt her head back as far as it would go while she leaned down, gazing at her intently.

Xun Ruosu’s long hair trailed toward the floor under gravity’s pull, one stray lock catching on her raised pinky finger. The woman gazing upward gave a faint smile. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just checking what a fox spirit looks like in human form.” Xue Tong’s tone was cool. “You’ve hidden far too much from me, and I don’t like playing the fool in the dark. I need to think about whether it’s time to cut you loose.”

“Would you really?” Xun Ruosu’s ring finger caught hold of that lock of hair, twisting it gently at first before yanking hard, pulling Xue Tong down another few inches until their eyes were mere breaths apart. “My memories are starting to come back, Xue Tong. Did you used to like me a lot?”

Xue Tong’s hands still rested lightly on Xun Ruosu’s jawline, her fingertips tracing back along the bone until they settled at her earlobe. “If you remembered everything, you wouldn’t need to ask. Me? I’ve got no compassion to speak of. Whether those souls reincarnate or not is none of my concern. And don’t think so highly of yourself.”

Xun Ruosu peered straight into Xue Tong’s eyes. She knew she’d slipped into another memory. The light around her dimmed, and before her stood Xue Tong with her hair tied back in a simple ponytail. Beneath their feet stretched a colossal bridge built from piled bones.

The bridge spanned a sheer crimson cliff, flames roaring up from below. From afar, Xun Ruosu could hear the clash of chains. Something massive was bound to that red precipice, and the figure ahead seemed to be sulking, head down as she marched on. Xun Ruosu heard her own voice calling out, but Xue Tong only quickened her pace.

“If you won’t ferry it across, then I will,” Xun Ruosu heard herself say, coming to a helpless halt. Her tone was gentle and resigned, devoid of much emotional inflection.

The stubborn figure marching ahead froze in the middle of the bone bridge at those words. Xue Tong turned slowly. “I’ve got no compassion, and I have zero interest in saving the masses. Bodhisattva, if you force me to perform soul exorcisms and take the throne as the Tenth Wheel King, I’ll jump right off this bridge. I’ll die clean and total—no traces left behind.”

“You’re my student. If you jump, I’ll save you,” Xun Ruosu replied with utter seriousness. “Besides, you wouldn’t die even if you did.”

“…” Xue Tong ground her teeth. “You really want me in that seat so badly? Yama’s Palace has the names recorded—from Jiang Changting onward, every one of them is cold and ruthless. You truly want me to turn out like that?”

“You were all born to fill the vacancies in the Underworld. It’s your duty, your very reason for existing. Whether I wish it or not is irrelevant before the order of things.” Xun Ruosu heard her own voice again. With those words, Xue Tong’s eyes widened, and slowly she added, “I hate you.”

Xun Ruosu coughed sharply twice, snapping back to reality. Her eyes fluttered open to find Xue Tong’s face hovering close above, scrutinizing her from above until she blinked. Only then did Xue Tong speak. “You were just spacing out.”

“Ah.” Xun Ruosu brushed it off.

“You’ve been spacing out more and more lately—talking to me one second and drifting off the next.” Xue Tong leaned in even closer, until Xun Ruosu had to cross her eyes to focus on her.

Then Xue Tong added, “When you drift off like that, are you remembering something?”

Xun Ruosu paused for a long moment before nodding. “These are just fragments, but most of them involve you.”

“Most involve you” wasn’t quite right—it was all about Xue Tong. She just didn’t always appear directly; sometimes she lingered in conversations or as an item representing her… So Xun Ruosu mentally dubbed her “persistent ghost.”

To protect Huang Xiaoran, they had layered the room with protective measures inside and out, which had cost them a lot of time. By now it was nearing noon, the sky bright and clear, the flames mostly extinguished—though dust still hung thick in the air.

Fires in the countryside weren’t like those in the city. A single spark could ignite the fields in a blaze, with no firebreaks between the vast expanses. The open flames were gone, but the water hadn’t stopped spraying, and the air was choked with smoke. Without a gas mask, you could choke to death easily.

The Zhong Family had arrived and was talking with the fire brigade captain by the roadside. Word from above was “let them through,” assigning them as the “investigation team.” But what kind of team had the elderly in their seventies leaning on canes and the young ones with backpacks and no hair below their noses? They looked more like a family on a spring outing.

The captain had wanted to hand out gas masks—or at least masks and goggles—but the leader was bold and refused them all, striding into the burn site with his whole clan in tow.

If not for the direct order to “stay out of it,” the captain would’ve called the cops… even though the patrol cars were parked right there, just a short walk away.

This family was Zhong Li’s father, mother, grandfather, grandmother, and little aunt. The Zhong Family had strict rules: side branches couldn’t exceed the Big Dipper Number. After Zhong Li’s father married and had Zhong Li, her little aunt couldn’t wed… The family didn’t favor boys over girls, but they prized ability and seniority above all.

The strong were allowed to produce heirs. If siblings were evenly matched in talent, the eldest got the chance. It was archaic, but necessary—a rough sort of fairness.

From the little tile house’s window, Xue Tong spotted them from afar. Zhong Li was there too, glancing around in search of something. The girl was sharp and clever, with plenty of street smarts. She figured that in a situation like this, Xue Tong—being nearby—would surely come check it out. Ever since the battle at Soaring Firmament Mountain, Zhong Li’s idol had shifted from the family head to Xue Tong.

Legends felt distant if you’d never seen the person; they were just stories, unfit for true worship. But Zhong Li had witnessed Xue Tong’s prowess firsthand, making the fearsome Tenth Wheel King seem approachable. Plus, Xue Tong was both beautiful and talented—far more pleasing to the eye than the grizzled old family head.

The area was vast, shrouded in smoke, daylight blotted out. Talisman paper might locate someone, but Zhong Li wasn’t alone. Her family upbringing was strict; even her darting glances seemed improper to her parents, let alone pulling out talismans and incantations to search.

Zhong Li pouted, feeling glum, when a paper crane folded from yellow talisman paper landed on her shoulder. A voice emanated from its beak: “Look north. There’s a little tile house by the field edge, across a path. Xun Ruosu and I are inside. Bring your whole family.”

Zhong Li vaguely remembered this crude craftsmanship. Up on Soaring Firmament Mountain, they could’ve just swapped contact info, but centuries-old clans were set in their ways—younger members rarely used electronics. She hadn’t brought her phone this time.

“Dad, Mom,” Zhong Li called out. “Sister Xue Tong wants us to meet her over there.”

She pointed ahead, where an ordinary little tile house sat at the end.

Though young, Zhong Li was exceptionally gifted—no one in the side branch could match her. The Zhong Family valued strength, so as the rising junior, she had some say in demon-exorcism matters, beyond school and daily life.

That also meant she always felt distant from her parents, starved for affection.

“Sister Xue Tong? You mean that Xue Tong?” Zhong Wei—Zhong Li’s father—gestured downward, indicating the Underworld.

Though Xue Tong hadn’t dealt with the Zhong Family in ages, she, Jiang Changting, and the other eight had their names etched in the family’s mandatory recitations for the young. Zhong Li’s simple mention sparked recognition in everyone.

She hadn’t told a soul about her Soaring Firmament Mountain adventure—it was her secret. Besides, she’d lied to her family that day, claiming to visit a classmate. With their strict ways, she’d been grounded for over half a year.

So Zhong Wei frowned in confusion. “When did you get in touch with that lord?”

“Uh…” Zhong Li, ever the honest sort, started stammering. The paper crane on her shoulder spoke up again. “Just say I reached out to you first. Who do they think they are? This lady contacts whoever she damn well pleases. Tell them to know their place.”

“…” Repeating that verbatim would be rude to her elders—a mixed doubles beating was surely coming today.