Chapter 63: Old Memories

Spike Binding involved tying sharpened bamboo spikes to the bends of the legs and the sides of the waist. The tips were extremely sharp, pressed right against the skin, so the slightest sway would draw blood immediately. It was meant to prevent the legs from going soft and losing power during training.

According to the rules Shang Ruyun had set, anyone undergoing Spike Binding had to stand for a full two hours, not a minute less. Years ago, when Yao Cuo was still young, he once had to stand on bricks with spikes. He’d eaten some bad overnight breakfast that morning—whatever it was—and ended up with a terrible stomachache. At the one-and-a-half-hour mark, he couldn’t hold it any longer and begged Shang Ruyun to let him run to the toilet. Shang Ruyun didn’t even glance up, just told him to hold it. In the end, when he finally stepped down from the bricks, he soiled himself.

Gu Xianwang had only just awakened from a serious injury today—she wasn’t anywhere near healed—and in this stormy weather, making her stand for two hours? It was sure to leave her with a chronic illness.

Nanny Chen held an umbrella overhead and dawdled as she tied the spikes for her, whispering persuasions under her breath. “Wang’er, don’t be stubborn with your master. Just apologize properly, and this matter—”

“I’m not wrong.”

Gu Xianwang stood firm, her gaze fixed on the streetlamp outside the courtyard. The light’s halo was sliced into fragments by the rain, scattering amid the water splashes churned up by hurried passersby. Ripples spun like wheels, silver lost in the plate—tonight… there was no moonlight.

Nanny Chen couldn’t sway her and felt both anxious and heartbroken. With a sigh of “You child,” she turned and went to find Shang Ruyun.

Shang Ruyun hadn’t gone back to his room; he was still sitting in the hall. When he saw Nanny Chen hurrying over, he cut her off first. “Don’t plead for her anymore. This girl won’t learn her lesson without a taste of hardship.”

Nanny Chen paused in her steps, cleared away his porcelain bowl, and set a cup of hot water in its place before speaking. “Hasn’t Wang’er suffered enough already? Don’t you know what she’s like?”

Shang Ruyun closed his eyes slightly. After a long moment, he sighed. “This girl seems obedient enough on the surface, but she harbors a grudge deep down. She’s exactly like her mother in that way.”

“As my disciple, she can be arrogant if she wants, aloof if she wants—but curiosity is one thing I absolutely cannot allow her to indulge. No matter what, this wicked flame has to be stamped out!”

When he mentioned that woman, Nanny Chen couldn’t help sighing. “But everyone has curiosity. I’m afraid the more you suppress it, the stronger it grows—that Yang—”

She paused, then went on. “I’m just worried that without any explanations, in the end, it’ll be the bond between you master and disciple that gets hurt.”

Shang Ruyun’s gaze darkened a touch. “You’ve seen how she’s been acting out these past couple of days.”

He rubbed his dry, reddened eyes and added, “The X-ray from this morning shows the shadows in her lungs have mostly cleared up. Those yellow blotches on her body—she didn’t see them, did she?”

Nanny Chen replied, “No, they’re covered with gauze. Good thing she had her mind elsewhere; she was distracted while washing up.”

“Hmph. For twenty years, the Forbidden Witch Bone in her body was kept well in check, but it all unraveled in just a few days. Curiosity might be human nature, but not everyone can handle what comes with it.” He glanced at the silhouette outside the window. “Once she steps down from the bricks, she’ll probably spike another fever. When she wakes up, you can give her phone back—the SIM card’s already out. Keep her out of outside business from now on. After the Flower Fair the day after tomorrow, if those surface coordinates check out, I’ll head to the Qinling Mountains myself.”

Nanny Chen knew this was a desperate measure on his part. Shang Ruyun’s public records were mostly faked; his real age this year was exactly eighty. Even if he was in good shape for it, going in personally for Treasure Spotting and exploration was an incredibly risky decision.

“Must you go?”

Shang Ruyun nodded. “Since that incident in Sichuan thirty years ago, there haven’t been any traces of the Long Family on the scene. I’m not getting any younger—I can’t wait many more years. What I can do for her… this is probably the last thing. Whether the Qinling Mountains truly hold footprints left by the Long Family Members or not, if there’s even a quarter of truth to it, I have to go check it out.”

“Our time… is running out.”

~~~

In the end, Gu Xianwang had to be helped into the house by Nanny Chen.

After a night drenched in the downpour, her body felt like wood, her legs like stone. Before she closed her eyes, her deepest regret was not eating a hot meal prepared by Nanny Chen before going to see her master.

In the early hours of the morning, Gu Xianwang’s temperature rose right on cue. Nanny Chen stayed by her side without even loosening her clothes, swapping out cold compresses and checking her fever every hour. It peaked at 42 degrees Celsius. In her delirium, her skin was so pallid it was terrifying, as if she were already dead.

Gu Xianwang felt alternately chilled and feverish, as if she could hear people moving about nearby, yet her eyelids weighed her down like lead, refusing to open no matter what. Gradually, she sank back into a shattered nightmare—from the endless Black Sea to the heaving Dragon Ship, and then she seemed to plunge into icy water. After a gasp of suffocation, she found herself a girl once more.

Every scene in the dream was warped and indistinct. A gang of boys crowded around her, hooting and hollering, each one sporting a grotesque mask atop their head. She couldn’t make out one face from another, only that they were jeering at her, mocking her mercilessly, though the words slipped away whenever she strained to hear them.

Before long, they shoved her into a Cellar Pit. The darkness inside was absolute, a spot where the family disciples honed their Eye Technique—but no one had bothered to teach her how, and there wasn’t a single adult standing guard outside. The boys slammed the wooden door shut and locked it tight. Her frantic pounding brought no response. Day faded into night, the pit growing ever colder, eerie winds whistling through the door’s cracks. She saw nothing, yet she sensed ghostly presences circling her like shadows.

Gu Xianwang desperately wanted to cry. When she could bear it no longer, she sank her teeth into her own hand with savage force, as if the agony belonged to her tormentors, not her. Time lost all meaning as she huddled there, trembling uncontrollably. Through the crack, daylight turned to darkness, then back again. Her throat burned with dryness, her lips cracked and bleeding, her cries hoarse until they faded to silence. In the end, she could only thud her forehead against the door, over and over.

She counted to stay awake—one, two, three… one thousand one hundred, one thousand one hundred one—

With a piercing creak, the door swung open at last.

She squinted against the sudden glare of sunlight, a single tear tracing down her cheek unbidden. The man who opened it was tall and imposing, his back ramrod straight, his voice smooth and resonant. He bent down and swept her into his arms.

He seemed to ask her something then. What was it?

“You must be… ‘s daughter?”

That name—why couldn’t she recall it?

Gu Xianwang remembered nodding.

The man smiled.

“Come with me. Take me as your master, and I’ll teach you the arts to stay alive.”

…

A splitting headache tore through her skull.

Gu Xianwang rolled over and forced her eyes open.

Still the middle of the night?

Nanny Chen was slumped beside the bed, her breathing deep and steady. Gu Xianwang hated to disturb her, but she worried about the strain on the older woman’s back and neck, so she reached out and gently nudged her.

“Nanny Chen, go back to your room and get some rest.”

“…Huh?” Nanny Chen rubbed her eyes in a daze, relief washing over her face. “You’re awake?”

Gu Xianwang lay flat on her back, massaging her temples. “How long was I out?”

Nanny Chen fished the damp cloth from beside the pillow and set it aside, then stretched her back with a satisfying crack before crossing to the window and pulling back the blackout curtain.

“It’s been a full day now, you silly girl.”

Gu Xianwang stared at the sunlight flooding in, momentarily stunned. “A whole day? I slept that long?”

The realization hit her, and she bolted upright. “Where’s Master? Is he still in the house?”

Nanny Chen replied, “The master had business this morning and left at dawn.”

Gu Xianwang’s head still felt waterlogged, sloshing painfully with every thought, but she scrambled out of bed anyway, fumbling for her clothes. “Did he say where he was headed?”

“You could chase after him, and he still wouldn’t tell you a thing.” Nanny Chen draped a cloth over her arm and paused at the door, glancing back. “He gave strict orders: until you’re better, you’re confined to the house.”

Gu Xianwang froze. House arrest?

Nanny Chen’s heart softened at the look on her face. “Hungry, are you? What would you like? There’s still some warm millet porridge in the sandpot. You haven’t eaten properly in days—a little will settle your stomach.”

An idea sparked in Gu Xianwang’s mind. “I’m starving, but porridge doesn’t appeal right now. Nanny Chen, could you get me a bowl of noodle tea?”

Nanny Chen had raised her and knew all her tricks, but she let it slide with a nod. “All right. I’ll call Xiao Zhao to pick some up.”

Xiao Zhao was Shang Ruyun’s driver; when he wasn’t ferrying the master around, he ran errands for Nanny Chen like a trusty handyman. Gu Xianwang hadn’t realized Master had left without him that morning.

“Um… on second thought, never mind. Don’t bother him—porridge will do.”

Nanny Chen chuckled helplessly and sighed. “Fine, stay put in bed. I’ll bring it right in.”

But one glance at Gu Xianwang’s long face, and she relented, fishing the phone from her pocket. “Here. Your phone.”

Gu Xianwang’s face brightened—he’d left her an opening, after all. The moment Nanny Chen stepped out, though, she powered it on. Great: no SIM card, no Wi-Fi. Just a screen-repaired brick.

She clutched her phone, let out a long sigh, and flopped back onto the bed, burying her face in the down pillow. So depressed—utterly depressed. Master had her personality completely figured out; he hadn’t left her even the tiniest bit of wiggle room.

She turned her head toward the sunlight streaming through the window. It was eight-thirty in the morning now. Nanny Chen’s regular nap time was from one to two in the afternoon. How about… climbing over the wall? Getting out would be easy enough, but where could she go afterward? It wasn’t like she could buy a ticket right now and head back to Guizhou.

Besides, Master definitely wouldn’t have left her ID card behind. She was flat broke at the moment, her phone had no signal, and her body hadn’t recovered at all—she was practically a useless invalid. Even if she somehow made it back to the entrance of that altar, she had no gear to descend again.

If only she’d been a little more proactive back then and asked Long Li for her number. Then, if she managed to escape on her own, she could contact her right now. Senior Brother—who knew which hospital they’d stuck him in—and Ye Chan…

On that note, Master really did deserve the label of sly old fox. He handled everything without a single leak, trapping her tight inside an iron barrel.

No, not quite airtight. Ye Chan, Ye Chan… Yesterday, Master had seemed to mention someone surnamed Ye. He’d said, “If not for Batou Ye’s grandson coming to find us.” Batou was an old-school term—back in the day, only the gang bosses in charge got called that. Could the Batou Ye Master was talking about be an old friend from way back?

The door had just swung open when Gu Xianwang shot upright in bed, slapping her thigh. That’s right! That day, right after Senior Brother Yao came down, hadn’t he mentioned someone? Young President Ye, Batou Ye’s grandson, Ye Chan—could they all be one family?

Nanny Chen jumped at the sudden motion. She set the breakfast tray on the table and patted her chest. “You child, always startling like that—you scared me half to death.”

Gu Xianwang’s mind raced. Nanny Chen must have been worn out from looking after her yesterday. After lunch, when the woman was good and tired, she could pry some info out of her. Maybe she even had Young President Ye’s contact details. Then Gu Xianwang could scale the wall…

With that in mind, she smiled. “It’s nothing, Nanny Chen. If Master isn’t coming back today, how should we handle lunch?”

Nanny Chen arranged the bowls and chopsticks, giving her a sidelong glance. “You haven’t even touched your breakfast, and you’re already thinking about lunch?”

Gu Xianwang rubbed her stomach with exaggerated delicacy, a touch shy. “Yeah… it’s been days since I’ve had a proper meal. I miss your cooking.”

Nanny Chen chuckled and chided her affectionately. “Now you know how to sweet-talk, huh? Fine, eat your breakfast nice and slow. Lunch isn’t set in stone yet. The old master just called back—Young President Ye will be dropping by to visit shortly.”

Gu Xianwang blinked, not catching on right away. “Visit who?”

“You, of course! You were so sick this time; he’s coming to check on you.”

They’d never even met—what was there to check on? But Gu Xianwang reconsidered and realized it was perfect timing. It saved her the hassle of climbing the wall to track him down. No need to break iron shoes searching when what you seek comes knocking unbidden.

She pursed her lips and nodded. “Then I should thank him properly.”