Weishui Village wasn’t far from town—a round trip cost only thirty bucks. On the bus, Song Qian listened to a bunch of bizarre tales from the driver. Some were no doubt blown out of proportion and twisted through endless retellings, but one story was undeniably true.
There really was a female corpse in that well at the village square!
Grandpa Song Qian had been one of the few well-off people in the village, the kind who’d built a three-story house. Sadly, the old man had passed away too soon, leaving the big place occupied by Grandma Song alone.
Dragging her little suitcase, Song Qian trotted toward the familiar building. From a distance, she spotted the kindly old lady beaming at the doorway, waiting.
“Grandma!”
“Ai, my precious girl’s back.” Grandma Song pulled Song Qian close, looking her over from every angle before nodding in satisfaction. “My precious is getting prettier by the day. You’re a young lady now.”
In front of her grandma, Song Qian dropped her shyness and tilted her head back with a huff, just like when she was little. “Of course. I’m the prettiest.”
Ji Wuxin stifled a laugh from the sidelines. She hadn’t seen Song Qian this full of herself before.
Song Qian shot her a sneaky sideways glare.
Lin Qing, lugging his big bag, felt too awkward to step forward right away and shuffled ahead one slow step at a time.
Grandma Song had clearly spotted him. “Precious, who’s this?”
Lin Qing jumped at the opening and introduced himself. “Hello, Grandma. I’m Song Qian’s classmate. I heard the scenery around here is amazing, so I wanted to check it out.” It was the line they’d rehearsed ahead of time.
Song Qian was in her twenties now, and suddenly bringing home a male classmate? Grandma Song squinted at Lin Qing’s face. When that didn’t help, she fished a pair of reading glasses from her pocket, slipped them on, and leaned in closer—practically bumping noses with him.
“Grandma?”
Grandma Song’s tone was cool. “A classmate of my precious, huh? Welcome, welcome.”
She delivered the words with such icy detachment that Lin Qing wanted to sink into the ground. Grandma Song obviously suspected something between him and her granddaughter.
Song Qian grabbed Grandma Song’s hand and wheedled. “Grandma, he’s really just my classmate. Don’t read into it.”
“Who’s reading into anything? He’s a classmate. I never said boyfriend.”
Song Qian: “…”
Lin Qing: “…”
Ji Wuxin: “?”
They were already there, so no matter how unenthused Grandma Song was, she couldn’t very well make Lin Qing bunk in the fields. She directed him to a room on the third floor to get settled.
“Come on, precious. I freshened up your room a few days ago—the sheets and bedding are all washed and smell nice!” Grandma Song tugged Song Qian along with a cheerful grin.
Song Qian glanced back at Lin Qing with an apologetic smile. He just shook his head, not minding a bit.
Once they reached Song Qian’s room, Grandma Song turned dead serious and gripped her arm. “Sensen, tell Grandma the truth: do you like that boy?”
“Huh?” Song Qian laughed, half amused, half exasperated, as she guided Grandma Song to sit. “I don’t like him at all. He’s really just a friend.”
Grandma Song’s eyes narrowed to slits. “A friend? Wasn’t he your classmate a minute ago?”
Song Qian: “…” How was Grandma so sharp today?
“Aiya, I swear, I really don’t like him. If I did, I’d…” Song Qian didn’t get to finish before Grandma Song smacked her hand in a panic. “Pah, pah, pah! Don’t talk like that—what kind of nonsense is that? Don’t jinx yourself.”
Giggling, Song Qian leaned her head on Grandma Song’s shoulder and swayed. “Grandma, I’m starving.”
“All right, I’ll whip up some dinner. Didn’t you want to see Uncle Ji? Grab that basket of eggs by the door on your way and invite him over.”
“I’ll head over now, then. Catch up a bit.”
“Go on, go on.”
Song Qian picked up the eggs and roped in Lin Qing as she headed next door. She wanted to ask him about the jade.
Next to Song Qian’s modern little building, the neighbor’s place looked like it belonged to another era: a pair of humble bamboo huts that screamed reclusive wuxia master, complete with a small surrounding grove of bamboo.
No soundproofing in a place like that. Long before Song Qian reached the door, voices drifted out from the bamboo hut—a man and a woman talking.
“Second Uncle, just come home with me already. Dad’s sent me out here how many times now, and you keep turning me down. I’m the one who’s gonna catch hell.”
“I’m gettin’ on in years. Don’t fancy long trips anymore. Tell your dad I took a tumble hiking and busted my leg.”
“Second Uncle!”
The young woman’s voice struck Song Qian as strangely familiar—for no good reason, it rubbed her the wrong way.
With people talking inside, she and Lin Qing hung back awkwardly in front of the little bamboo grove.
Lin Qing peered around and let out a quiet “Huh,” then started scrutinizing the area.
Scattered bamboo groves ringed the hut, planted all uneven and kinda eyesore-ish. But their positions neatly blocked the sunrise and sunset light. Year in, year out, it kept the place steeped in lingering yin energy—even the hottest summer day inside felt cool as a mountain stream.
Had someone planted them that way on purpose… or…?
“Sensen!?”
A man’s delighted voice snapped Lin Qing out of it. Looking up, he saw a man and woman standing out front of the hut. The man was pushing fifty, temples gone gray. The woman seemed their age, young and fresh.
Song Qian stood rooted to the spot, face blank. It wasn’t seeing Uncle Ji after so long that threw her—it was the girl beside him. She knew her.
“Sensen? Forgot me already?” Ji Jiusheng stepped up and waved a hand in front of Song Qian’s face.
She snapped to and smiled. “No way, Uncle Ji. You look as dashing as ever.” She couldn’t resist flicking another glance at Ji Shixing.
Deep down, she was gnashing her teeth. Of all the rotten luck!
“Come here, let me introduce you. This is my big brother’s daughter, Ji Shixing. A year or two older than you, I reckon.” Ji Jiusheng beckoned Ji Shixing forward.
Ji Shixing looked conflicted too. Who figured a simple visit to relatives in the sticks would bump into an ex?
“Hello.” Song Qian played it cool, like they’d never met, her smile warm and perfectly polite.
Ji Shixing mirrored it and stuck out her hand. “Hi, Sen… Sen?”
Song Qian’s smile turned brittle as she eyed the hand, one brow arched. No interest in shaking—what now? And who said she could use her nickname?
“Who the heck is she!?” Ji Wuxin picked up on the vibe and ghosted up behind Song Qian, whispering spookily.
Song Qian gave the fingertips the barest brush and yanked her hand back. Three washes when she got home—no, make it ten!
Ji Jiusheng’s eyes landed on Lin Qing trailing Song Qian. He sized the guy up head to toe, a glint of veiled hostility flickering through.
“This your… boyfriend?”
Song Qian shook her head and passed over the eggs. “Nah, just a friend. He’s here to unwind.”
“Ah, got it.” Ji Jiusheng adjusted his glasses. “Unwind by coming here?”
Lin Qing felt crushed under the pressure. He’d sweated less facing Master’s grilling while learning talismans.
“I… uh…”
“Uncle Ji, guy’s got no spine—don’t pick on him. Grandma says come for dinner later. We can chat on the walk over? Been too long.”
Ji Jiusheng clocked how Song Qian was sticking up for the kid and shot him a mental death glare.
Little brat, trying to steal the spot of grandson-in-law!?
Lin Qing missed it entirely, though a shiver crawled down his back.
“Looks like her folks ain’t too keen on you.” Ji Wuxin lounged nearby, arms crossed, dumping ice water on him without mercy.
Lin Qing found it odd too. He’d fretted earlier about misspeaking and causing offense, but now he’d pissed off two elders without opening his mouth.
“Shixing, I’m sitting this one out. Tell your dad I’m under the weather.” Ji Jiusheng snagged a bottle of liquor from the house to join Song Qian, then remembered his niece in the yard and turned back. “A couple things for you.”
Ji Shixing shot Song Qian a look, lips curving slyly. “Second Uncle, scenery here’s killer. Mind if I stick around a few more days?”
Song Qian’s eyes bugged out. What was her game!? She hadn’t missed that glance.
“Sure, but no extra beds.” As Ji Jiusheng spoke, he noticed his niece grinning weirdly at Sensen.
Gut twisting with unease, sure enough—
“I can bunk with Sensen. Girls together—no biggie, right?”
Song Qian had never found Ji Shixing’s smile so punchable.
“Little Daoist, you getting a weird vibe between Song Qian and that chick?”
Lin Qing barely blinked at Ji Wuxin materializing beside him, but her question nailed it. “Yeah. Like they know each other.”
Ever since laying eyes on Ji Shixing, Song Qian’s smile had turned painfully forced and phony.
“Sensen doesn’t like sleeping with other people.” Ji Jiusheng suddenly found himself looking at his niece with displeasure. “If you really want to stay here, go find an inn in town. It’s convenient since you drove.”
Ji Shixing: “…”
Song Qian was inwardly grateful to Ji Jiusheng almost to the point of kowtowing in thanks. She nodded eagerly, like a chick pecking at rice, then shot a smug glance at Ji Shixing.
Your second uncle has spoken up. It wouldn’t be right to keep hanging around here now, would it?
Ji Shixing noticed the look, and her temples began to throb. How had she never realized Song Qian was so infuriating back when they were dating?
At dinner, Lin Qing was seated as far from Song Qian as possible. Even Ji Shixing’s attempt to sit next to Song Qian was thwarted when Ji Jiusheng shouldered her aside.
“When you’re a guest in someone else’s home, you don’t take the host’s seat. Didn’t your father teach you that? Go sit over there.”
Ji Shixing had no choice but to take the spot beside Lin Qing. As she looked up, she caught Song Qian eagerly pouring wine for her little uncle.
“Uncle Ji, I’ve realized you’re even more handsome than before. After all these years, you’ve got even more of that manly charm.”
Ji Jiusheng blushed at the flattery. A man who never touched alcohol in his life now watched as she filled his glass to the brim, his gaze brimming with approval as he looked at her.
Ji Wuxin stood right behind Lin Qing, her frown deepening by the second. “This old man… The more I look at him, the more I can’t stand him.”
Lin Qing kept his head down and shoveled rice into his mouth, not daring to make a sound.
“Sensen, why’d you suddenly come back home for the holiday?”
Grandma Song’s chopsticks paused midair. Lin Qing noticed them trembling faintly, as if she’d just heard something that terrified her.
But in the space of a moment, Grandma Song composed herself and placed a chicken leg in Song Qian’s bowl.
“Sensen said she wanted to come back and see us—especially you. On the phone, she kept going on about Uncle Ji this and Uncle Ji that. I figure this little girl came back just to see you.”
“Really?” Ji Jiusheng took a sip of wine, his face flushing slightly. Deep emotion flickered in the depths of his eyes, a hint of excitement.
Clueless to the meaningful glances that Grandma Song and Ji Jiusheng kept exchanging as they spoke, Song Qian—wedged right between them—simply played along with Grandma Song’s words. “Aiya, Grandma, of course I came back to see you. You’re not seriously jealous of Uncle Ji too, are you?”
Lin Qing and Ji Wuxin could see it plainly. The two of them seemed to be harboring some faint expectations about Song Qian’s sudden return.
“Uncle Ji, after dinner, mind if I ask you something?”
Ji Jiusheng’s buzz evaporated in an instant. His voice trembled as he replied, “What is it?”
