Bao Zhu could barely breathe, her entire being submerged in ice water called terror. She was experiencing drowning on dry land, her limbs drained of all strength to move. Cold sweat slowly flowed from her hairline down her face, yet she lacked even the courage to raise her hand and wipe it away.

She glanced at the storyteller sitting beside her and saw he displayed the same extremely frightened, twisted expression, his hand gripping the fan handle trembling violently. He clearly also sensed some horrifying change in the atmosphere.

As soon as the pipa music stopped, Shisan Lang’s low sutra chanting became audible, the pattering rain continued, and damp, cold mist crept from the doorway into the room.

“Hungry ghosts and beasts, blind, deaf and mute, suffering from meeting the hateful, suffering from parting with the beloved, suffering from not obtaining what is sought”—one phrase after another entered her ears, occasionally interrupted by the pipa woman’s painful coughing.

Bao Zhu thought: This woman is a ghost, certainly a ghost.

Could it be that requesting someone to tell “The Tale of Li Wa” on this dark, rainy night had summoned this wandering spirit from the streets? Her expression and tone contained deep resentment—was it unwillingness over death from faded beauty and illness? Or grief and rage from being severely injured by a lover who couldn’t be obtained?

Bao Zhu had been afraid of ghosts since childhood. Her mind conjured the eerie palace legends told by old palace ladies. In those stories, female ghosts were inevitably more savage and terrifying than male ghosts, because the various injustices women suffered while alive were always deeper than men’s, making their vengeful hearts inevitably stronger.

Her bow and arrows were in her room, but even with weapons at hand, could ordinary arrows without a high monk’s demon-breaking blessing deal with such a terrifying female ghost? At least the Shurangama Mantra hadn’t driven her away.

The wandering woman seemed somewhat concerned about Bao Zhu saying her music sounded muffled. She supported the pipa while adjusting the white bone tuning pegs, constantly plucking to test the sound. Hearing the endless sutra recitation in her ears, she suddenly shouted harshly: “Bald head’s noise! Shut up!”

This explosive shout was sharp and piercing, making Bao Zhu dizzy with ringing ears. The chanting behind her stopped abruptly—Shisan Lang was injured by the woman’s single rebuke and began coughing violently. As one waned and the other waxed, the cold shrouding her body intensified threefold. Bao Zhu felt utterly desperate as tears of terror burst forth. Even a monk’s sutra chanting couldn’t cause her the slightest harm—this must be an extremely fierce evil spirit.

Mustering all her courage, she said tremblingly: “Grievances have their source, debts have their owners. We have no enmity with you—go seek that man who hurt you.”

The pipa woman laughed coldly: “I haven’t found the wrong place. That cruel little devil was just… cough cough… was just lingering here.”

Bao Zhu cried as she argued: “But we don’t even know the person you’re talking about!”

The pipa woman’s expression changed again, speaking tenderly with affection: “You definitely know him—this person loves wearing blue robes. Word in the martial world is that a donkey-riding young lady captured him alive. I’m extremely curious… cough cough… what kind of stunning beauty could make that iron-hearted person willingly surrender? Seeing you today, you’re just a little girl who only knows how to cry. Has that dead little devil lost his mind?”

Hearing this almost name-specific accusation, Bao Zhu was completely stunned. Could the person this female ghost spoke of be Wei Xun?

The pipa woman laughed miserably: “He treats you very gently, doesn’t he? That year when he forcibly dragged me from bed and beat me, he showed not a trace of mercy…”

Before she could finish speaking, a blue shadow suddenly flashed through the doorway, striking diagonally with a palm thrust swift beyond compare. Though it seemed light and effortless, the pipa woman knew well the power of this Twilight Mist Palm and dared not receive it directly, sliding from her chair to avoid it.

The blue-robed person changed moves extremely quickly, this palm falling like a rabbit rising and falcon dropping, pressing down toward her shoulder. Half the pipa woman’s body was enveloped under the overwhelming palm force, already feeling sluggish movement, knowing that if it struck solidly, death was certain.

She formed claws with five fingers, pulling up the pipa strings to block. When two masters’ true qi clashed violently, there was a resonant clang of strings like a jade mountain collapsing, like a silver vase suddenly shattering. The human sinew strings absorbed most of the blue-robed person’s fierce palm wind, transforming it into scattered force. The room’s curtains and furniture immediately showed countless tiny cuts.

Since Wei Xun appeared, Bao Zhu felt the oppressive cold on her body greatly reduced, and her hands and feet could move again. Though he shielded her from injury, dozens of black hairs at her temples were severed by the scattered force.

The pipa woman borrowed the force to escape, her form flashing to the doorway. Though only receiving half the palm strike, she still felt her chest’s qi and blood churning. Unwilling to show weakness and suppressing the urge to vomit blood, she stood gracefully holding her instrument, teasing mournfully: “Cruel, short-lived little devil, do you want to hurt this slave’s heart and body again today?”

Wei Xun’s expression was grimly fierce as he said word by word: “You brought this on yourself.”

The pipa woman swayed her waist and stepped backward as if to flee. Wei Xun rapidly closed in, his knuckles crackling, thinking to simply beat her to death today. But she reached into the pipa, gripping three thin-as-cicada-wing throwing knives between her fingers and scattered them into the room, one heading directly toward Bao Zhu.

Wei Xun responded with divine speed, listening to the wind to determine position and throwing something to intercept. Another clang of metal striking jade—the polished bronze mirror split in half and fell to the ground, also knocking away the hidden weapon.

Taking advantage of this gap, the pipa woman deployed her lightness skill, floating up like paper figures used at funerals, sweeping onto the rooftop. Wei Xun was about to pursue and finish her completely when he glimpsed Bao Zhu’s face drained of all color from fright, her cherry lips turned pale. Immediately his fierce killing intent faltered, and his iron-hard heart softened.

Top masters’ exchanges occurred in the blink of an eye. Wei Xun’s slight hesitation allowed the pipa woman to escape with loud laughter, her ghostly sharp laughter echoing in the dark rainy night, intermittent and fading into distance, containing both triumph and mockery.

Bao Zhu was so frightened by this woman’s ghost-like behavior that her legs went weak. She couldn’t stand up from her chair and felt around to find her face covered with cold sweat mixed with tears.

Wei Xun turned and rushed over, placing his hand at the Renying acupoint beside her throat. Feeling this cold claw grip the soft part of her neck, Bao Zhu startled again, instinctively shrinking and trembling as teardrops fell on his hand. Then she realized he wasn’t using force, only lightly touching the acupoint to check her pulse. The major blood vessel near the throat was closer to the heart pulse—in critical moments, the results were more accurate than checking the wrist.

After examining her pulse and confirming she had no internal injuries, Wei Xun released his hand and carefully looked her over from head to toe before truly relaxing. Only then did he notice the tear on his hand was surprisingly hot. He wanted to wipe the tears from her face but didn’t dare reach out again.

“I returned too late,” Wei Xun said regretfully. Shisan Lang’s skills were more than adequate against five or six ordinary people and usually sufficient to protect her. Who could have expected that woman to suddenly appear in this ordinary inn in Lingbao County?

Full of doubts, he heard Bao Zhu ask with a crying voice, trembling: “Was… was that thing human or ghost?”

Wei Xun calmly comforted her: “A living person—a martial world person who likes playing mysterious tricks. Don’t be afraid.”

Bao Zhu still couldn’t react, staring blankly for a moment before asking again: “If so, then what the wandering woman said about you being her lover and her coming for revenge after you severely injured her—is that true?”

Hearing this inexplicable accusation, Wei Xun showed complete astonishment, thinking this was bad. That fierce woman hadn’t just thrown knives before leaving—she’d also buried a more sinister hidden weapon here. He hurriedly argued: “She’s lying! That woman isn’t any wandering woman either—she’s an assassin leader from Chang’an…”

Before finishing his words, a miserable wail echoed from the room, startling Bao Zhu again.

The sound came from the storyteller who’d been sitting nearby. Without Wei Xun’s protection, his entire body was scraped with countless small cuts from the scattered pipa string force. While not fatal, a throwing knife had just grazed his head, slicing off his topknot along with a piece of scalp. Because the blade was so thin and fast, he only now discovered it.

With the topknot fallen away, the storyteller’s head revealed an egg-sized patch of white skull bone, then blood gushed out torrentially. With disheveled hair and blood streaming, he looked extremely horrifying.

Already scared witless by the pipa woman and now losing blood heavily, thinking he’d lost his head, he immediately lost his sanity. Screaming while fleeing the inn, he disappeared into the black night, abandoning his fan and gavel.

The main hall was splattered everywhere with the storyteller’s blood, dripping and spreading to outside the inn. The innkeeper came out for a look, thinking there’d been bandit robbery and murder. He quickly recited Buddha’s name while hiding back in the rear hall, barricading the door with wooden poles and pretending nothing had happened.

Seeing the bloody scene, Bao Zhu felt even more frightened, staring at Wei Xun with pale face and murmuring: “I don’t know what romantic entanglements or grudges you two have. If she’s human, why do all her actions and behavior seem like an evil ghost?”

Though not knowing why, Wei Xun instinctively sensed trouble. Thinking that even if he were wrongly suspected of seventeen or eighteen murders, he had to clarify this matter first, he said loudly: “Only grudges, no romance! I did injure her, but that’s because she attacked first—getting beaten was her own fault.”

Glancing at Shisan Lang standing dazed with palms pressed together, he called for help: “Stop standing there pretending to be Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva! The enemy has already fled!”

Shisan Lang, having just been shaken by the pipa woman’s shout until his mind was unsettled with sweetness in his throat, finally managed to resolve the reversed malevolent qi. He apologized dejectedly: “Sorry, Big Brother. I tried my best to resist, but truly am no match for Third Sister.”

Wei Xun said urgently: “I didn’t expect you to beat her, but you can’t let that fierce woman spread rumors about me either!”

Shisan Lang paused, finally understanding why his senior brother was angry. He quickly explained to Bao Zhu: “Jiu Niang, don’t be afraid. That woman just now was our sect’s third-ranked senior sister, ‘Pipa Demon’ Tuoba Sanniang. She has a grudge against Big Brother—they almost fight whenever they meet. She… she’s always been particularly frightening.”

The little monk’s comfort began with “don’t be afraid” and ended with “particularly frightening,” failing to achieve its comforting purpose and showing he was also very afraid of that woman.

The romantic imagery of “The Tale of Li Wa” had completely dissipated from Bao Zhu’s mind, leaving only the impression of a savage, terrifying female ghost. She wondered what other demons and monsters existed in Wei Xun’s evil sect—how was each one more bizarre than the last?

Cold wind mixed with rain swept in from outside. Tuoba Sanniang had vanished without a trace, as if it were all just a nightmare. However, the scattered blood in the inn and a leather bag used to wrap the pipa proved it wasn’t a dream.

The leather pouch lay face-down on the chair. Looking carefully after calming down, she saw the yellowed leather clearly bore a tattoo of Vaisravana, complete with several moles—it looked like it had been peeled from a human body, truly making one’s scalp crawl.

Once knowing the opponent was human, Bao Zhu felt both annoyed and ashamed at being so frightened she couldn’t move.

But recalling the split-second exchange between Wei Xun and his sect-mate, a blue shadow and white shadow entangled in combat, both moving ghost-fast, she could barely make out their movement paths. If holding bow and arrows, she truly lacked confidence in hitting Tuoba Sanniang without accidentally injuring Wei Xun.

In hall corridors and short-range combat situations, bow and arrows indeed weren’t suitable weapons.

Coming to her senses, Bao Zhu felt sticky cold sweat in her hair and on her chest and back, with dried tearstains uncomfortable on her face. Having practiced archery and horsemanship since childhood only to be mocked in battle for only knowing how to cry, Bao Zhu felt very embarrassed, her pale cheeks gradually flushing red. Anxious to return to her room to wash and hide her shame, she reached the door only to find Wei Xun still following behind, seeming somewhat uneasy.

“I’m not injured,” Bao Zhu said.

Wei Xun grunted, staring at the floor beneath her feet, quietly repeating: “Only grudges.”

Bao Zhu paused, somewhat understanding what he was worried about. Thinking that he showed no concern for the life-and-death battle’s split-second changes yet cared about this, she responded: “I heard you clearly the first time. Of course I trust you over a stranger.”

With that, she quickly walked into her room, closed the door behind her, and went to wash.

Author’s Note: Vaisravana is also known as the Wealth-Giving Heavenly King, actually a god of wealth. Not considering material issues, Third Sister is very particular about auspiciousness, just with a preference for human body art pieces.