A’Piao came downstairs with a darkened face.

Half an hour ago, the man standing before the entrance had been composed and elegant — the kind of refined scholar who, even in old age, would carry himself with effortless grace, without so much as a single crease on his garments. Now, it was as if he had become an entirely different person.

His hair, once immaculately pinned up with a fine jade mutton-fat hairpin, was in partial disarray, several strands hanging loose — and among them, streaks of silver white. Earlier, he had been entirely black-haired; now, he had gone white at the temples in an instant.

His clothing was crumpled and snagged, a button torn off by who knew what, the right sleeve scorched and charred at the edges by fire — and the hand beneath that sleeve…

Oh my. Wrapped haphazardly with a handkerchief like a rice dumpling, blood soaking clean through the cloth. A poorly wrapped rice dumpling at that, A’Piao observed privately.

If Sheng Huai’an could have read his thoughts, he would have considered it a form of psychological assassination.

But he could not read minds. He stood there with eyes bloodshot and murderous, glaring at A’Piao with bulging fury — not a trace of refinement remaining, looking for all the world like a brawling thug, his face utterly repellent.

A’Piao narrowed his eyes. Had losing the Exquisite Tower corrupted his aura this thoroughly?

So all that refined scholarship, that warm and approachable brilliance, that literary magnificence — had all of it been sustained entirely by the Exquisite Tower?

No wonder he had been so insistent that the “little Star of Literary Brilliance” had not entered the underworld. The main spirit had gone missing, and the Exquisite Tower was beginning to lose its power — he was panicking, desperate, hence that unshakeable certainty that the man had not reincarnated.

He had said this person was very important to him — and indeed he was. His entire body’s spiritual energy was bound to that soul. Lose it, and he was nothing.

Hah.

A’Piao’s gaze turned cold. He cracked his knuckles. His hands were itching — he very much wanted to hit this man. The face on him was simply too repulsive.

Seeing A’Piao, Sheng Huai’an surged forward — then barely held himself back. His gaze was dark and venomous, his voice cold as ice. “Manager Piao, if you have taken my spiritual instrument to examine it, please return it now. It was an imperially bestowed object. If you have no desire to bring trouble upon this establishment, I suggest the manager comply.”

Oh? Lost all sense of dignity, yet not a scrap of that imposing manner gone, was it? Listen to those airs — thinking he was above everyone, was he? Did he even know what kind of place Tongtiange was, coming here to throw his weight around?

A’Piao was even colder than him. “If Master Liufeng has developed delusions, you’ve come to the wrong place. The Qianjin Hall at the corner of the street still has its doors wide open — they serve all clients without discrimination. The master is welcome to go.”

“You — how dare you!” Sheng Huai’an’s old face flushed crimson as he surged forward.

A’Piao swept his sleeve, and a blast of yin wind sent the man flying — Sheng Huai’an crashed face-first to the ground before the entrance with a resounding slap, crying out in pain.

“Do you think I answer to you?” A’Piao stood over him, looking down. “Royalty and nobility would not dare cause a scene in my Tongtiange, and you come here spitting filth from your mouth? What — do the books you read every day feed you garbage? Are you eating it and smearing it all over your brain while you study?”

From the shadowed corner where she was concealing herself, Lang Jiuchuan clicked her tongue softly. “Manager Piao has quite a foul mouth.”

Fuqi stood beside her and managed to produce one sentence: “Do I have to learn this?”

As a military man, he had never been one for verbal sparring the way scholars were. But as a manager, he would inevitably face unreasonable customers — so since he had taken on an apprenticeship, he supposed he should also learn how to swear properly, foul enough to do the job?

Lang Jiuchuan: “…”

General, there is truly no need.

Sheng Huai’an was consumed with shame and rage. Knocked to the ground like that, his scorched right hand happened to slam directly against the stone step. The piercing pain turned his face bloodless, and blood poured faster from the wound.

He raised his head, glaring at A’Piao. “Give it back…”

“Give what back to you?” A’Piao’s expression went dark. “Has it not been nearly half an hour since you left my Tongtiange? You lose something outside and come back to demand it from me? Have you got water in your brain?”

“It was you, it had to be you…”

“Me what? Go on, tell me — what did I do, what did I take? I only just stepped through my own front door this moment, didn’t lay a single finger on you, and you call me a thief? Master — haven’t your books taught you that to accuse a thief, one must produce evidence and proof?” A’Piao said with cutting mockery. “Oh, I understand — people like you, perched up so high — to smear someone’s name, all it takes is opening your mouth.”

Sheng Huai’an was incensed. “Don’t bandy words with me. I am the top-ranking scholar personally appointed by the late emperor, the great scholar whom every scholar in the realm looks up to…”

A soft snort.

A’Piao smiled and pointed at him. “You — a great scholar?” He waved a hand. “Someone — bring out a bronze mirror.”

The attendants scrambled to fetch a large bronze mirror and set it up.

“Come now — rather than let you relieve yourself on my Tongtiange’s doorstep and foul the air, a bronze mirror serves better. Much clearer. Take a good long look — what exactly does that ghastly face of yours look like to a great scholar? You’re claiming to be a great scholar — are you sure you’re not a counterfeit?”

Sheng Huai’an glanced into the mirror and his pupils contracted. Was the person inside truly him? Such a wretched state — and his hair, that hair he had always been so proud of, white?

That was not him.

The Exquisite Tower. His Exquisite Tower.

“Return my spiritual instrument.” Sheng Huai’an stumbled to his feet with the support of his personal attendant, his eyes boring into A’Piao with lethal intensity. “Tongtiange’s methods reach the heavens — taking something from a distance without touching it is hardly beyond your capability.”

A’Piao’s smile vanished. “You’re trying to extort me now?”

He unhooked from his waist the string of ancient, worn little bells, and yin energy immediately surged from his body, rushing straight toward Sheng Huai’an. “No one gets away with throwing their weight around at my Tongtiange. What exactly do you think you are? Hmm?”

The yin energy condensed into malevolent force, taking shape as a venomous yin serpent crackling with killing energy — it lunged forward and bit down savagely.

Sheng Huai’an let out a howl. His entire body went numb and ice-cold. His face drained to the color of paper as he stared at A’Piao in terror, stumbling back two steps, his whole body shaking uncontrollably.

“Get out!”

Sheng Huai’an did not dare press forward, especially as the gathering crowd of onlookers grew larger, pointing and whispering. A’Piao stood there radiating killing energy; Sheng Huai’an’s right hand — whether from pain or the cold — had gone completely numb and lost all feeling.

He could not afford to drag this out any longer.

He shot A’Piao one last venomous glare, as though the man were the murderer of his family, then turned without another word and retreated to his carriage.

“Sheng-whatever-your-name-is,” A’Piao’s voice drifted after him, cool and unhurried, “a merchant’s golden rule is that harmony brings prosperity. You had to force an honest man to lose his temper — that really isn’t wise. As they say, a deal may fall through but good faith should remain. Since no transaction was made between us, I’ll offer you one parting word free of charge: those who persistently do wrong will bring ruin upon themselves. Do take care of yourself, Master.”

Sheng Huai’an choked on a mouthful of blood he could not spit out. He turned back, and the look in those eyes was cold and feral — like a monstrous beast throwing its jaws open wide.

A’Piao gave a cold laugh. You think I’m afraid of you, you self-aggrandizing, reputation-stealing old corpse?

Sheng Huai’an left. A’Piao turned back and instructed the attendants, “Get a few buckets of water and wash down the front entrance — clear away the foul energy.”

He turned, and found Lang Jiuchuan standing there. She gave him a thumbs-up. “Impressive combat power.”

He felt a swell of satisfaction — but then the memory of her little stunt came surging back. He strode over and said through gritted teeth, “I took the blame for something you did. If you don’t give me some compensation, I’ll make things very unpleasant for you.”