Chapter 47

“Let the spirit have emotions…” Liu Changsheng mulled over the phrase. “Are you saying she’s already restored the spirit in that Liuli Lantern?”

Was spirit supplementing such an easy task? Her senior brother had spent more than a decade barely managing to nurture a jade spirit. Without Song Qian’s special constitution, he might never have produced one in his lifetime. What method had that person used to let Yun Chu mend a shattered spirit so effortlessly?

“I don’t know the details. The last time she came to me, she was holding Liuli’s hand as they walked in together.” Wu Yizhi recalled the scene from that day: rain pouring in sheets, the lamplight flickering as he pored over his talisman books inside the house, Yun Chu entering with a face pale as death, wet strands of hair plastered to her skin.

She had said, “Help me one more time. I’ll agree to anything you want.”

From his dazed expression, Liu Changsheng surprisingly detected a hint of lingering reluctance. Was he reminiscing about something?

Wu Yizhi let out a sigh. “Yun Chu…”

A massive wave surged in Liu Changsheng’s downcast eyes, crashing against her heart and refusing to ebb. To her shock, she heard a deep, lingering affection for Yun Chu in his tone. Perhaps… she had misheard?

Liu Changsheng desperately hoped she had. She closed her eyes and tried to steady her mind, slowly turning her prayer beads.

Someone leaned in close beside her and whispered, “This friend of yours seems to like that Yun Chu.”

Liu Changsheng opened her eyes and looked at Qi Buyu. Are you sure?

Qi Buyu nodded solemnly. She had a knack for peering into the deepest emotions hidden in people’s eyes. Just moments ago, as Wu Yizhi recalled Yun Chu, the corners of his eyes had curved softly, filled with the tender, intricate warmth one reserved for a lover.

She could not be mistaken.

The wind outside had died down. Wu Yizhi rose to his feet, rubbing his waist, and glanced at the others in the room. “There are a few empty rooms in the back courtyard. Why don’t you all go rest?”

Lin Qing asked, “Can we go out now?”

Wu Yizhi laughed at his frightened expression and clapped him on the shoulder. “Of course. Just paste some talisman paper on the door. And whatever you do, don’t come out at midnight.”

He turned back to the girl standing by the bed. “Oh, and Little Zhang—you should rest too. I’ll keep watch here for you.”

Her eyes were red and puffy, her face etched with exhaustion. After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded. “All right.”

“You lead them back there. I’ll stay here and tidy up.” Wu Yizhi glanced at Liu Changsheng. “Forgive the poor hospitality.”

Liu Changsheng gave him a single look while turning her prayer beads but said nothing.

Wu Yizhi chuckled from behind her.

Little Zhang didn’t bother with a lamp, navigating the back courtyard by the faint moonlight.

“Sigh, it doesn’t smell anymore.” Lin Qing sniffed the air vigorously a few times.

It was damp, but the revolting rotten stench from earlier had vanished, replaced by the fresh, earthy scent of grass after rain.

Little Zhang glanced back in fear, pressing a finger to her lips. “Shh. Hurry up and don’t talk.”

Lin Qing clamped a hand over his mouth and nodded frantically.

The back courtyard had only a few rooms. As the sole male student, Lin Qing got one to himself. Liu Changsheng and Qi Buyu shared the next, leaving the innermost for Song Qian and Little Zhang.

Before they entered, Liu Changsheng pulled Song Qian aside and cautioned her not to sleep too deeply, to stay alert for any sounds, and to keep the bell close at hand.

Ji Wuxin snatched Song Qian’s arm and tugged her into the room. “Got it, got it. I’m right here.”

Fine, talk all you want—but keep your hands to yourself.

Liu Changsheng itched to thwack Ji Wuxin on the head, but given their surroundings, she restrained herself.

The room carried a faint musty odor but was otherwise spotlessly clean. Liu Changsheng surveyed it, noting how it seemed prepared expressly for their arrival. She ran a hand over the tabletop: not a speck of dust.

Would an ordinary household keep so many guest rooms in the back courtyard? And with only these three—all apparently for guests—where was the master bedroom?

“What are you doing? Come to bed already. I’m exhausted.” Qi Buyu flopped onto the mattress with a mumble, yawning hugely.

Liu Changsheng eyed the narrow single bed and sank into thought, then calmly took a seat at the table. “You go ahead and sleep.”

Qi Buyu propped herself up on one elbow. “What, no special service? I’m not going to do anything to you.”

In the darkness, Liu Changsheng’s ears burned at the words, but she feigned composure and kept turning her prayer beads. “I’m not tired.”

Qi Buyu tsked in annoyance, rolled off the bed, and hauled Liu Changsheng over to the bedside. She jabbed a finger at the foot of the bed. “Fine, then sit here. It’s too far otherwise—I get scared.”

“You’re supposed to protect me. That’s not a problem, is it?”

Liu Changsheng considered it for a moment and found the logic sound, so she settled obediently at the bed’s foot.

Qi Buyu clambered back onto the bed, stretched with a lazy groan, and rolled to the far side, curling up under the quilt. She even left space at the edge for another person. Liu Changsheng quietly averted her gaze.

By contrast, the atmosphere in Song Qian’s room crackled with tension.

Little Zhang blinked up at Song Qian, silently urging her toward the bed. Ji Wuxin glowered—first at Little Zhang, then at Song Qian.

Song Qian quietly drew Ji Wuxin behind her and gently stroked her hand. “You sleep first. I’ll join you in a bit.”

“All right. Good night.”

Once Little Zhang had drifted off, Song Qian let out a breath of relief. She found Ji Wuxin’s persistent glaring amusing and reached out to pinch her puffed-up cheek.

“What’s got you so mad?”

Ji Wuxin seized her hand and peered into those faintly reddened eyes. “You can’t sleep with her.”

Song Qian glanced around the cramped room with a helpless sigh, then teased, “But there’s only one bed. Should I take the floor?”

Ji Wuxin narrowed her eyes and leaned in close, voice laced with displeasure. “So you want to sleep with her?”

Song Qian blinked. “?”

“See? I knew it—you do want to sleep with her!” Ji Wuxin huffed, flinging herself onto Song Qian in a sulk and playfully nipping at her shoulder without any real force.

Song Qian wore only a thin blouse; the bite merely tickled.

She wrapped her arms around Ji Wuxin, letting her snuggle close. When the tantrum finally subsided, Song Qian’s expression turned serious. “Do you want to know what I saw earlier?”

Ji Wuxin tilted her head lazily against Song Qian’s shoulder. “What?”

“I saw Yun Chu. And I suspect… the Liuli Lantern she has now is a fake. That spirit inside is fake too.”

Once that woman had gotten her hands on the Liuli Lantern, why would she give it back so easily? Most likely, the spirit supplementing that Sun Wei performed had been on the fake one.

“A fake?” Ji Wuxin shot upright, baffled. “How is that possible?”

Song Qian recounted every detail she had glimpsed. She watched Ji Wuxin’s face shift from calm composure to seething fury, teeth gritted.

“Who is that person? How could anyone be so vile?”

“I don’t know. Master might.” Song Qian pulled out the bell—the one belonging to Fake Liuli.

“Yun Chu doesn’t seem to care that much about Liuli if she couldn’t even tell real from fake.” Ji Wuxin snorted, then thumped her chest confidently. “Don’t worry. I’d never mistake you for anyone else.”

Song Qian had pondered the same question and eventually understood: Yun Chu was just an ordinary girl. In her distraught state, seeing the one she loved ensnared, it was forgivable to miss the truth.

“Ji Wuxin.”

“Hm?”

Song Qian’s palms grew slick with sweat. She bowed her head, clasped Ji Wuxin’s hand, drew a deep breath, and finally asked, “Will you always stay by my side?”

Ji Wuxin froze. Jiao Niang had instructed her to remain with Song Sensen, but she hadn’t specified for how long.

When Jiao Niang eventually called her back, she wouldn’t be there anymore. That wasn’t “always,” was it?

“No.”

No…

Song Qian’s mind went blank, her vision swimming. Ji Wuxin wouldn’t stay forever. She would leave.

Her arms, still looped around Ji Wuxin’s waist, slowly fell away. Ji Wuxin glanced down at them, then up at Song Qian’s face, which had gone deathly pale in an instant.

“Song Sensen?” Alarmed, Ji Wuxin cupped her face and peered closely, left and right.

“Are your eyes hurting?”

Song Qian wrenched free of her grasp, shoved her away, and slumped over the table, burying her head. “I’m tired.”

Ji Wuxin noted the genuine weariness in her eyes, then turned and slipped into the jade.

The room fell utterly still, save for the faint, erratic heartbeat drifting from the table.

Song Qian lay awake. Her mind swirled with visions of Ji Wuxin leaving, vanishing forever, never to be seen again…

Wait a minute…

Song Qian jerked upright and yanked the jade from her collar. Ji Wuxin was the jade spirit! With the jade right here in her hand, where could she possibly go?

She smacked her own forehead, mortified at her own foolishness for falling into such a simple trap.

“You’re still up?” Little Zhang mumbled groggily from the bed. She stood up and shuffled over to the table, pouring herself a cup of water and gulping it down noisily.

The cold water jolted her brain awake. She blinked and glanced toward the table.

Thud!

“Ah!!!”

Urgent footsteps pounded from the doorway, and the door flew open violently from the outside.

“Song Qian!?”

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?”

Lin Qing and Liu Changsheng squeezed in at the same time. They saw no one else in the room—Song Qian was sitting calmly at the table.

“Why are you yelling?”

Song Qian shook her head and pointed at Little Zhang, who had fainted on the floor. “It wasn’t me who screamed. It was her.”

“Wait a minute.” Liu Changsheng spoke up suddenly and walked over to lift Song Qian’s chin.

“Your eyes…”

Song Qian’s eyes glowed an eerie red in the darkness—no wonder Little Zhang had fainted in fright. Who wouldn’t be scared if someone in the room suddenly sprouted glowing red eyes?

“What happened? I heard someone screaming from way over there.” Wu Yizhi came running from up front, his hands still stained with fresh ink.

He paused upon seeing Song Qian’s eyes, then turned to Liu Changsheng beside her. “You came this time for this?”

Liu Changsheng nodded.

“This Ghost Qi is tricky. I can’t handle it.”

Wu Yizhi laughed and straightened his back. “Heh heh, every trade has its masters. For something like this, you’ve gotta count on Old Wu!”

“Don’t brag too soon. We’ll see in the morning.”

“Alright, alright, everyone go back to bed. Nothing more to worry about tonight.”

Wu Yizhi hurried off again; he seemed quite busy.

With Liu Changsheng’s help, Song Qian lifted Little Zhang onto the bed. Then she took the bell from her bosom.

“Master, do you know who the original owner of this bell was?”