Chapter 52

Ming Wenjun flung Yun Chu into a pile of dry leaves like she was nothing more than trash. Yun Chu’s hand pressed down on the Liuli Lantern, which had just fallen to the ground and shattered all over again. The lantern’s jagged fragments sliced a long gash across her palm.

Yun Chu seemed utterly oblivious to the pain. The bloody handprint she left on the leaves stood out glaringly.

“You deserve a gruesome death… a gruesome death!!”

“After I die, I’ll become a malicious ghost and tear you to shreds…”

Ming Wenjun ignored her frenzied ravings, her eyes shifting toward Ji Wuxin, who had slipped away in the chaos.

Pretty clever.

“Aren’t you going after her?” The black monkey at Ming Wenjun’s feet scratched its head in agitation.

“No rush.” Ming Wenjun toyed with the small gourd in her hand, a mischievous glint of amusement in her eyes. “If I snag her this easily, where’s the fun in that?”

A few more rounds might give her even more glimpses.

Ji Wuxin clutched Song Qian tight, wishing desperately that she could sprout wings and fly. Red Forest Village appeared in her field of vision, and she picked up her pace.

Almost there… just a little further…

Ji Wuxin glanced down at Song Qian. Those red eyes stared back at her, motionless.

Just as Ji Wuxin fought to steady the fresh wave of emotions rising inside her, those eyes suddenly shifted.

Ji Wuxin froze for a split second. Her foot snagged on something, sending her stumbling. Song Qian’s body lifted into the air for an instant before Ji Wuxin yanked her back into a protective embrace. The two of them tumbled down the hillside path.

Ji Wuxin shielded Song Qian’s head with unyielding care, making sure she took no injury. She herself couldn’t feel a thing anyway—no big deal.

They didn’t stop until Ji Wuxin’s lower back slammed into a massive boulder. She felt the body in her arms twitch—Song Qian was moving!

“Song Sensen!”

Song Qian poked her head out of the embrace, frantically checking Ji Wuxin over. When she spotted the countless tiny scratches marring her forehead and hands, tears welled up uncontrollably in her eyes.

Her gaze shifted to the rock Ji Wuxin had blocked for her. Without a word, Song Qian dragged her closer. Seeing the coast was clear, she reached for the hem of Ji Wuxin’s skirt.

That rock was huge, and with the force of their fall, it had to hurt like hell.

Ji Wuxin clamped down on her hand, refusing to let her lift it no matter what.

Song Qian wiped at her tears, her voice thick with sobs. “Let me see.”

Ji Wuxin paused, tilting her head to catch the teardrop trembling on Song Qian’s lashes.

“You’re crying?”

“It doesn’t hurt. Please don’t cry.”

Song Qian wasn’t buying it. All those wounds—how could they not hurt?

She was still aching for Ji Wuxin when her next words made Song Qian’s temples throb.

“Sigh, why haven’t you died yet?”

“…” What kind of talk was that?

Song Qian shot her a glare. Her eyes, reddened from tears, looked all the more heartbreaking, and her retort came out soft and feeble. “Do you want me dead that badly?”

Ji Wuxin pulled her into a gleeful hug, nuzzling her chin against the top of Song Qian’s head. “Not dead is good. Not dead is perfect.”

“You scared me half to death.”

In her indignation, Song Qian also picked up on something strange. “Why did you think I was dead?”

She’d only dozed off for a bit. When she woke, Ji Wuxin was sprinting with her clutched tight, like some savage beast was hot on their heels. Who could make Ji Wuxin bolt like that? With her hotheaded streak, shouldn’t she have spun around and thrown down?

Ji Wuxin held her fast in that same position, eyes narrowed as she recounted the moment: no breath, no heartbeat.

No breath. No heartbeat…

Song Qian went rigid. So after blacking out, she’d been just like a corpse.

Her body wasn’t the same anymore.

Ji Wuxin left out the part about Song Qian trying to ambush her. She was afraid it’d push her away.

She knew Song Qian well enough: if she realized she posed the biggest threat to the jade spirit, she’d slip off into the distance without a word.

Ji Wuxin couldn’t bear that kind of distance.

“Let me see your back.” Song Qian couldn’t make sense of it and figured she’d ask Master later, but she wasn’t about to forget what mattered right now.

Ji Wuxin’s entire body went rigid. She fidgeted coyly. “We’re outside.”

Jiao Niang had warned that proper girls didn’t strip in public, even if Jiao Niang herself paraded around buck naked half the time. Ji Wuxin always took her words to heart.

“No one’s around. Just one quick peek.”

The words had barely left her mouth…

“There they are! Song Qian!!”

“Song Qian—”

Lin Qing’s shout echoed from afar. Song Qian ground her teeth. What was his problem?

Fine. She’d check it properly once they were back.

By the time Lin Qing and the others caught up, Song Qian and Ji Wuxin were already on their feet. Leaves clung to their hair and clothes, and the scratches on Ji Wuxin’s face left them looking ragged.

Liu Changsheng was still seething over Ming Wenjun. Spotting Song Qian, she tamped down her fury, though her expression stayed frosty.

“You okay?”

Before Song Qian could answer, Ji Wuxin darted in front, meeting Liu Changsheng’s gaze head-on. “Of course we’re fine! I kept Song Sensen perfectly safe!”

She hadn’t forgotten Liu Changsheng’s earlier words.

Liu Changsheng wasn’t in the mood for banter. She gave a curt nod. “Good.”

With that, she strode on ahead, her posture even more dejected than usual. Qi Buyu didn’t trail after her this time; she hung back silently with Song Qian, Lin Qing, and the rest.

“Buyu-jie, did that woman do anything to you guys?” Song Qian really wanted to ask about Master, but figured it’d come off tone-deaf with him right there.

Qi Buyu saw right through her with one look.

“No. After you two bolted, she said a few words and left. Didn’t give your master any trouble.”

“That’s a relief.”

They reached Red Forest Village to find a row of burly men in black suits blocking the entrance. Had the locals taken up cosplay?

“Ahem.”

A soft, coquettish cough sounded from behind the men. They parted ranks in perfect sync, snapping to attention with military precision.

There, screened by their bulk, sat a woman on an opulent palanquin straight out of some ancient noble’s fever dream. Strings of tiny pearls draped the canopy, with tassels swaying alongside. She swirled red wine in a tall-stemmed goblet while four attractive young women managed her luggage.

She looked every inch the vacationer. But who in their right mind vacationed in this godforsaken mountain hollow…?

Lin Qing let out an admiring whistle. “Talk about a real rich bitch.”

Qi Buyu twitched beside him. Why did that jab feel personal?

Suddenly, her own fortune seemed downright piddling.

“Hey there, friends.”

“Haha, uh… hey.” Lin Qing stuck out a hand in greeting.

Liu Changsheng led the pack. She eyed the woman mid-sip and marched right up, planting herself in front without a shred of politeness. “Out of the way. You’re blocking the road.”

“Pfft—cough cough cough—” The woman choked hard, red rivulets trickling down her long, pale neck.

One of the girls thrust wet wipes at her with frantic urgency. The woman snatched one and scrubbed at her mouth and neck.

“You’ve got a dark mark on your forehead, face all ashen and weak. Before long, you’ll face…”

Liu Changsheng’s patience frayed. She fixed the woman with an icy stare. “Bloody disaster?”

The woman blinked, then waggled a finger with feigned mystery. Before she could get the words out, the frosty statue before her cut in: “Then bring it on.”

“?”

“Move.”

The woman looked spooked. She waved off the suited bruisers, who cleared the path in unison.

Liu Changsheng breezed past without so much as a glance.

“Tch, spoilsport.” The woman shook her head with a sigh, then turned a sunny smile on the stragglers.

“Young folks these days are all so dewy and ripe.”

Song Qian trailed Liu Changsheng with her head down, one hand shading her eyes.

As she passed the palanquin, a slender, manicured hand shot out to bar her. Song Qian halted and murmured, “Excuse me, could you let me by?”

The woman had only caught a curious flash of red light before, but this little miss’s impeccable manners lit her up.

Listen to that: “Excuse me,” “let me by,” “could you”—pure gold! Nothing like that last one’s arctic “Move.”

“Cutie, fortune reading? I’m spot-on.”

Song Qian: “…”

“No thanks, I’ve got places to be. Mind moving?”

The woman beamed brighter, leaping to her feet and shoving the goblet at an attendant. She fluttered a pinky with theatrical flair. “I adore you! We’re totally meant to be.”

Off to the side, Ji Wuxin slowly swiveled her head. The woman hadn’t spared her a single glance, so Ji Wuxin figured she must be invisible to her.

Song Qian’s face darkened as she leaned in close to the woman. “What fate? What kind of connection do you have with her? Get lost—go as far away as possible.”

The woman’s eyes darted about before settling on Ji Wuxin. Her voice abruptly changed, turning gravelly and coarse like that of a burly man standing over six feet tall. “Rude.”

Ji Wuxin jumped in fright and whipped around, throwing her arms around Song Qian as she yelped, “Eek! She can see me!”

Lin Qing and Qi Buyu, stuck behind them, were equally surprised. Anyone who could see spirits was no ordinary person—and with this wildly exaggerated display, was she some kind of heavyweight?

The woman extended a hand toward Song Qian with cloying sweetness. “I’m Mu Yu. Want to be friends?”

She gazed at Song Qian with a shy, bashful air, her smile never leaving her face.

Song Qian glanced at the figure shrouded in black aura clinging to her, feeling a touch at a loss. She had never been good at refusing requests like this.

Before she could think of a way to respond, Ji Wuxin seized Song Qian’s arm and shoved their way past, even giving Mu Yu a sharp bump with her hip.

Mu Yu staggered back a step, staring up in shock at Ji Wuxin, who stood with her chin raised in smug triumph. Her finger trembled as she pointed, finally managing to blurt out, “You’re so crude!”

Ji Wuxin let out a huff and pushed at Song Qian’s shoulder, propelling her forward.

Lin Qing and Qi Buyu trailed after them and made their exit. Mu Yu had no interest in the pair, so she didn’t bother stopping them.

“Madam, shall we head up?”

“The fun’s over. Turn around and follow that little beauty.”

Mu Yu settled back into her sedan chair with lazy grace. The burly bearers hoisted it steadily aloft, the tassels swaying gently as red wine trickled slowly into her mouth.

A contented sigh escaped someone. “Paid vacation—pure bliss.”

By the time they returned to Wu Yizhi’s home, he was nowhere to be seen. Little Zhang sat vigil by her boyfriend’s side, insisting on keeping watch through the night.

The moment Song Qian dragged Ji Wuxin into the bedroom, she set about stripping off her clothes.

“Stop, stop, stop! Song Sensen, what are you doing!?”

Ji Wuxin clutched desperately at her skirt, which Song Qian had already yanked down past her shoulders. The beauty lay half-exposed, her rounded shoulders gleaming smooth and creamy in the dim lamplight.

Song Qian adopted the pure, upright demeanor of a perfect gentleman. “I just want to check your back.”