That familiar cold gaze.

Xuan Yi was startled—she truly had the feeling that he could somehow see her. She subconsciously retreated two steps, pondering what moment she should choose to reveal herself, when suddenly he stood up and threw a cinnabar-marked yellow talisman paper at her, saying coldly, “What kind of evil spirit is this?”

The cinnabar talisman paper slapped onto her shoulder with a “smack.” Xuan Yi looked down at it, then looked back up at him, finally turning her head to look outside the window. The chief spirit official hiding in the shadows told her with lip movements: I told you to be careful!

…So this meant that Fucang, having become a mortal, no longer wildly swung the Chun Jun sword but now wildly scattered talisman papers instead? Also, she clearly hadn’t manifested her form—could he actually see her? He could see her and still scattered talisman papers at her?!

Xuan Yi carefully peeled off the sticky talisman paper covered in paste, wrinkled her nose in disgust and tossed it to the ground, then rubbed some white snow into a ball to wipe her shoulder. Unexpectedly, the next moment five or six talisman papers came flying at her face, their sticky paste nearly hitting her in the face. She hurriedly dodged and shouted angrily, “Stop throwing them!”

Seeing him about to grab more yellow paper, she lunged forward. Taking advantage of being a divine being with strength, she snatched things from this brute’s hands for the first time, throwing all the yellow paper, paste, and cinnabar out the window in one go. With a sweep of her long sleeves, the moon window was closed shut.

Fucang retreated several steps, his back against the bookshelf, his gaze vigilant and gloomy as he stared at her. Xuan Yi let out a breath and sat down on a cushion, beckoning to him with her hand. “Come, sit.”

Instead, he shrank back two more steps, his voice low. “Beauty’s enticement is useless on me.”

Who was trying to entice him?

Xuan Yi continued to beckon to him. “Why are you still such a coward, not even brave enough to come over and sit down to talk?”

Before her words had finished, he swept over like the wind and sat down opposite the desk, staring at her silently without speaking.

The dim light flickered, dancing in his eyes. Identical—they were truly identical. His hair, his build, even his voice and gaze were all identical.

Xuan Yi shifted her gaze away and randomly kneaded the ball of snow in her hands that had gotten sticky with paste. She coughed. “…Do you still remember me?”

Last time, when Yan Xia saw Shao Yi, she had seemed to recall something, and his few words of apology had helped her resolve her karmic ties. Why was none of this working when it came to her?

The Fucang across from her still said nothing, his eyes still full of vigilance, examining her from top to bottom with scrutiny.

Very well, she was certain he didn’t remember.

Xuan Yi spun the ball of snow in her hands until it rolled around smoothly. There was always something fluffy stuck in her throat that made it difficult to speak smoothly. She cleared her throat again. “It’s like this—I came here specifically for you. In the past, it was I who wronged you… Can you forget those unpleasant things and start fresh…”

Before she could finish speaking, her forehead suddenly felt cool. He had somehow produced another talisman paper and slapped it onto her forehead with a “smack.”

Xuan Yi was stunned.

The Fucang across from her frowned slightly and made an “ah” sound. “…Still didn’t work?”

There was no way to have this conversation! Xuan Yi tore off the talisman paper and flew out the moon window. While vigorously wiping the sticky paste from her forehead with white snow, she glared at the chief spirit official with extreme suspicion. “Are you sure he’s Fucang?!”

What was with all these sticky talisman papers? Didn’t they say he had become an imperial prince? Had he changed careers to become a ghost catcher instead?

The chief spirit official smiled bitterly. “Naturally it’s absolutely certain. Lord Fucang lives in seclusion at the Qing Di Temple, and that peach tree earth immortal occasionally teaches him some mortal methods for exorcising evil and filth. Just now… he probably mistook the Princess for an evil spirit.”

Over these years, they patrol spirit officials had also been stuck with quite a bit of paste—one got used to it.

Xuan Yi violently threw the sticky snow to the ground, unleashing the thunderous fury of a princess. “I came to resolve his karmic ties! How can I resolve them like this? Go tie him up!”

“How could that be done!” The chief spirit official waved his hands repeatedly. Seeing her face full of chagrin, he spoke consolingly, “I don’t know for what reason Lord Fucang descended to the mortal realm, but since it’s related to the Princess, please be patient and carefully think about what his karmic ties are, what he wants—only then can you properly resolve them for him.”

Xuan Yi suddenly fell silent. What he wanted should be her apology, right? But how was she supposed to do this? He had arbitrarily decided she was a female ghost, and the moment they met, she was pelted with paste-covered talisman papers. He was always like this—in the upper realm too, threatening her with cutting her hair at the drop of a hat.

Though he had never actually cut it even once.

Through the tree shadows, she looked toward the moon window in the courtyard. The window had already been opened, and Fucang was sticking various cinnabar yellow papers on the windows and door. Just how afraid of her, this female ghost, was he?

The night gradually deepened. Time in the mortal realm truly passed quickly. Xuan Yi quietly watched the moon window turn pitch black. Fucang must have already fallen asleep, right? She suddenly rose and transformed into a clear breeze again, slipping in through the window. Sure enough, he was sleeping on the bed, lying quietly on his side in the cotton quilt with long hair covering half his face.

She cautiously moved to the bedside, pulled over a cushion, and sat on the floor to study him carefully. When he slept, his eyelids actually trembled slightly, and his lips would move too. How interesting—were all mortals like this?

Suddenly, his lips moved several times, mumbling something indistinctly. Xuan Yi put both hands on the edge of the bed and said in a low voice, “What are you saying? Are you talking to me?”

His mumbling grew quiet again. He turned over, the quilt sliding down to his waist, and the robe on his body slid down below his shoulders, revealing a large expanse of taut, solid back.

Xuan Yi climbed onto the bed and moved close to his face again, staring for a long time. She confirmed he wasn’t awake. If he wasn’t awake, how could he speak?

The next day, Fucang was awakened by cold. Even though he was covered with a quilt, he still felt a bone-chilling cold throughout his body, and this was the height of summer. He threw off the quilt and sat up, shivering from the cold. He suddenly saw that last night’s female ghost sitting on the cushion, leaning against the bed edge with her head nodding as she dozed off.

His heart was alarmed—it was already daylight and she could still manifest! His hand shot out like lightning, immediately reaching for talisman papers in the hidden compartment under the bed. When he felt around, the hidden compartment had already frozen over, sealed tight with ice. Only then did he discover that this room had somehow become covered in freezing ice at some point, with even a fine layer of frost on the bed. No wonder it was so cold.

This female ghost’s powers were truly profound.

Fucang pulled a yellow paper from under his pillow, bit his finger to write an incantation in blood, and slapped it on her forehead. Xuan Yi was in a half-asleep, half-awake haze and couldn’t help but cry out “hey” in surprise as she woke. She turned her head to look at him in confusion. After quite a while, she slowly peeled off the talisman paper on her head. Seeing it was written in blood, she immediately frowned in disgust and threw it away.

“Stop scattering talisman papers.” She rubbed her pitiful forehead with white snow. “I’m very powerful—there’s no way to subdue me.”

Fucang was at a loss for the moment and could only ask, “What do you want?”

Xuan Yi looked at him suspiciously. “You really don’t remember me?”

He said flatly, “I’ve never seen you. Why would I need to remember you?”

Xuan Yi felt quite uncomfortable hearing these words and frowned. “I even came to see you when you were five years old. You forgot so quickly? Do mortals have such poor memories? Or are you just stupid?”

A ball of anger suddenly rose in his chest that he could neither swallow nor spit out. After quite a while, he asked coldly, “What exactly do you want to do?”

Xuan Yi glanced at him with ill intent and grinned wickedly. “I want to peel off your skin and eat your heart.”

She crossed her arms and waited leisurely for him to cry out and shrink into the quilt, but he didn’t move at all, just stared at her coldly. She suddenly found herself missing that round, chubby little coward a bit.

Fucang wrapped himself in the quilt and got out of bed, his voice indifferent. “Please leave. I need to change clothes for my morning lessons.”

He had thought she would shamelessly continue to pester him, but unexpectedly she got up neatly and efficiently, walked elegantly toward the door, and just as she was about to open it, suddenly seemed to remember something. She turned back to ask, “Why do you talk in your sleep?”

Talk in his sleep? She had stayed here all night?! Fucang was both annoyed and embarrassed. He quickly walked to the door, opened it, and forcefully pushed her out. “That was sleep-talking.”

Who was calling whom stupid? She was the stupidest one—she didn’t even know what sleep-talking was.