The creature moved with considerable speed, and its bulk was no small thing — it had something of the look of a water ghost or some similar malevolent being about it. Qin Yao swam with all her strength for a good while before she had managed to close even half the distance between herself and it.
The underwater depths were naturally far darker than the bank above, and Qin Yao had not expected to be able to make out what this thing truly was. But thanks to the palace attendants’ unstinting use of lanterns hung in every direction, the light cast down through the surface of the water illuminated the depths well enough to make out a fair portion of the scene below.
By that borrowed light from above, Qin Yao saw that the creature had hands and feet — it was human in shape. Moreover, its entire body was wrapped in a faint, eerie luminescence, casting the bottom of the spring in a cold, ghastly greenish glow. Stranger still, the way it moved through the water was rigid and stiff — it did not use its limbs to propel itself at all, but traveled in a perfectly straight, unbending line, as though it were a massive puppet being drawn forward by invisible strings. Watching from a distance, it was profoundly unsettling.
Qin Yao pursued it relentlessly but could not catch up. Her breath was growing increasingly ragged; her chest and abdomen felt about to burst, and a faint sweet-metallic taste rose in her throat. She forced herself to surface, gulping air in great heaving gasps until the dizziness began to clear. Without pausing to check what was happening above water, she dove back under immediately.
But in the few seconds she had taken to breathe, when she looked ahead again, the space before her was empty. The creature had vanished entirely without a trace.
Qin Yao slapped the water in frustration, then moved left and right beneath the surface for a while, finding nothing. She knew that if this thing was a creature native to water, it commanded every advantage this environment had to offer, while her Soul-Devouring Bell was utterly useless underwater. There was no point in continuing to chase it, and she reluctantly abandoned the pursuit.
She had just surfaced when she found herself face to face with someone standing on the bank.
That person had heard the sounds earlier and had nearly left, but suspicion had drawn him back.
A startled voice: “Ah-Yao?”
Qin Yao brushed the water from her face and recognized the person before her as Lin Xiao.
He appeared to have not long emerged from the water himself — his hair was still damp at the temples. He was barefoot, holding his boots in one hand, his sash not yet fastened, his sapphire-blue robe hanging open loosely, revealing the snow-white undergarment beneath.
The spring shimmered with rippling light that played across his face, making his complexion appear even clearer and more luminous than usual, his lips a vivid red, his eyes deep and dark as black jade.
He took in Qin Yao’s state, startled at first — and then his face flushed red. He turned sharply to the person behind him and said in a low, firm voice, “Everyone, withdraw.”
Chang Rong and Wei Bo gave a collective flinch. They dared not look at the water for another moment, and hurriedly lowered their heads and stepped back, terrified of being too slow and displeasing the Young Lord.
The two of them retreated to a distance and, of their own accord, took up positions blocking the path — standing guard, ensuring no inattentive person would blunder in.
Qin Yao was dazed for a long moment before she collected herself and quickly sank down in the water, shielding her body completely beneath the surface with only her head above water.
Both of them were somewhat ill at ease, and Qin Yao especially so.
Fortunately, the customs of the present dynasty were open-minded, and women dressed lightly or wearing only chest-binding garments was not uncommon. Qin Yao’s state just now, dressed in her chest-binding, was not so shocking as to be mortifying beyond endurance.
After a silence, it was Qin Yao who spoke first, forcing herself to sound composed. “Young Lord — there is a creature beneath this water. I pursued it just now, but nearly had it and still lost it in the end.”
Lin Xiao responded distractedly, “A malevolent creature?”
His mind was entirely occupied with the glimpse he had just caught — a graceful, delicate silhouette and skin as white as snow. He could barely take in a word Qin Yao was saying.
Qin Yao looked at him with a peculiar expression and repeated, “Young Lord — there is a malevolent creature beneath the water. I am afraid it may return before long. You should inform everyone and ensure they do not come to bathe in this Yuquan spring again.”
Lin Xiao finally snapped back to himself, genuinely surprised. “A creature beneath the spring?”
Qin Yao nodded. “And its nature is exceedingly strange — it is neither quite like an ordinary water demon, nor like a common ghost or spirit. I worry it is not confined solely to the water and may emerge to harm people on land. Unfortunately, it is too late in the night now to have everyone descend the mountain — Young Lord, you will need to increase patrols tonight, and remain extremely vigilant, to prevent that creature from finding an opening.”
Lin Xiao’s expression turned serious. “Though there has never been any known malevolent presence on Yuquan Mountain before, since you witnessed it yourself, that creature could hardly have appeared from nowhere — it must have some kind of origin. I will make arrangements at once.”
His gaze settled on Qin Yao, and after a moment’s hesitation, he cleared his throat and said quietly, “Ah-Yao — with that creature still able to return, it’s not safe for you to remain in the water. Let me help you up to the bank first. You can wear my outer robe and wait here while I send someone to bring you clothes.”
Qin Yao glanced at the deep-blue robe with its intricate dark pattern on his frame. Her face grew inexplicably warm, and she said quickly, “There’s no need, there’s no need. When I dove after the creature just now, I left without a word to the others. If I’m gone too long, they’ll worry that something has happened to me. I’ll swim back the way I came — I can’t let them search for me.”
Lin Xiao’s expression remained perfectly steady when she declined, but inwardly he felt a flicker of disappointment. He had finally found himself alone with Qin Yao — how could he bear to let her go so soon?
Seeing her about to duck back beneath the surface, he quickly said, “Malevolent creatures usually have some means of concealing themselves. My men and I are ordinary men of flesh and eyes — we cannot easily distinguish the creature’s tricks. I may well need your assistance in setting up the defenses tonight.”
Qin Yao paused and gave a nod. “I’ll go and get ready, then come find you later. But where should we meet?”
Lin Xiao considered for a moment. “This is not far from my chambers. Come back to this spot — I’ll have Chang Rong come to guide you. The path will be cleared, so there’s no chance of you being seen.”
Qin Yao heard this and gave Lin Xiao a suspicious look. Something about this felt oddly off to her — they were clearly joining forces against the malevolent creature, and yet the way Lin Xiao framed it, it sounded rather like two people arranging a secret rendezvous.
But there was no time to dwell on it. She had been away too long already, and if she did not return, Wang Yingning and Pei Min would not know what to worry first. Xia Yuan and Chen Yuqi were not the sort to stand by quietly either — all manner of trouble might arise. So she said, “Then it’s settled.”
With that, she dove back beneath the water and swam quickly back the way she had come.
Lin Xiao remained where he stood and watched her go until the last tiny ripple on the water’s surface disappeared. Then he turned and walked back.
Chang Rong and Wei Bo had expected Lin Xiao to remain in the grove for quite some time, and were somewhat surprised to see him emerge so soon — and without Miss Qu. They were curious enough to wonder where she had gone, but after thinking better of it, neither dared to ask.
Lin Xiao returned to his chambers, changed his clothes, and fastened the Chixiao Sword at his waist. He instructed Chang Rong and the others to pass word to Xu Shenming and his men that no one was to go to the Yuquan spring any longer. Then he made his way to the front hall, intending to inform the Emperor of the situation. The Emperor had only the Imperial Guard commanders to rely on during this excursion, so the defensive arrangements would need to be handled with the utmost care and precision — not even the slightest error could be permitted.
However, the Emperor had always harbored a deep disdain for anything that smacked of the supernatural or the strange. If he were to go and report to him what Qin Yao had seen in the water — a water demon, just like that — the Emperor would not only disbelieve him, but would likely suspect that someone was spreading seditious tales to stir up panic, which would in turn bring unnecessary trouble down on Qin Yao. He would have to find another way to frame the matter.
Thinking this over as he walked, he had arrived without realizing it at the far end of the garden. Rounding the small path ahead, the white jade carved railings of the front hall would come into view.
This part of the grounds was dense with trees that blocked out the sky and screened out the light. Even in daylight it was rarely frequented, and at this hour it felt all the more dim and ominous — the palace attendants making their nightly rounds avoided it, frightened to venture near.
Lost in thought, Lin Xiao was just about to turn at the fork in the path when he heard a sudden rushing sound behind him — something broke through the air and came hurtling straight toward him.
Lin Xiao’s expression hardened. There was no time to turn around. He dropped low in an instant, sidestepped, and at the same moment drew his sword with a swift, decisive thrust into the space beside him.
The thing struck the Chixiao Sword and recoiled with a low, unearthly shriek. A strange wind laden with a biting chill retreated to one side.
Lin Xiao tracked its retreat and immediately surged forward in pursuit, driving after it to the end of the small path. He was nearly upon it when it reached a decorative screen wall ahead — and then the strange wind turned the corner and vanished entirely.
Lin Xiao was forced to stop. He fixed his gaze on the space before him and was about to search more carefully with his sword drawn, when footsteps rounded the bend.
He turned — and saw the Vice Commander of the Imperial Guard, Xu Shenming, emerging from the path around the corner.
Lin Xiao watched as Xu Shenming’s face passed from shadow into light, gradually becoming clear in the lantern’s glow. With no change in his expression, Lin Xiao looked him up and down and said, “Commander Xu.”
“Young Lord.” Xu Shenming stepped forward and gave a salute, his expression grave. “A short while ago, the Chang guard accompanying you conveyed that the Young Lord wished to assemble the commanders?”
“Yes.” Lin Xiao nodded, then looked at him carefully once more, and said suddenly, “When you were on your way here just now — did you see anything unusual?”
Xu Shenming’s gaze flickered, and he arranged his expression into one of surprise. “Nothing at all. Young Lord — has something happened?”
Lin Xiao was silent for a moment, studying him, before he said slowly, “Nothing. Let us proceed to the front hall.”
With that, he glanced down at the Chixiao Sword at his side. The blade was perfectly still, showing not a single sign of disturbance. He had no choice but to set aside his suspicions for the time being, and turned to walk on ahead.
Meanwhile, Qin Yao had swum back at full speed to the spot where the young women had been gathered earlier, and found — as she had expected — Pei Min and Wang Yingning in a frantic state, just on the verge of sending someone to look for her.
When Qin Yao suddenly surfaced from the water, Pei Min was startled first — then swam over and grabbed her by the arm with anxious urgency. “Where did you go just now? You disappeared without a word — we all thought you had drowned! We were scared half out of our wits!”
Seeing the genuine worry and alarm in Pei Min’s eyes, Qin Yao was inwardly moved by her — so cool and reserved on the outside, yet warm-hearted within. She said quickly, “There were so many people in the spring, I felt a bit suffocated. I just swam a little to the left and right, I didn’t dare go far.”
Wang Yingning’s expression was also strained. She took Qin Yao by the hand and looked her over carefully, and managed — unusually for her — to show a mildly reproachful expression. “Don’t go frightening people like this again.”
Pei Min, her heart finally released from its anxious grip now that she could see Qin Yao was safe and sound, turned to them both and said, “Everyone else has gone. Shall we head back too?”
Only then did Qin Yao notice that the spring was empty except for the three of them. Xia Yuan, the Princess Consort of Lan, and all the others had long since left. “Where did they go? Have they all gone back?”
The way the Princess Consort’s attendant had shattered Xia Yuan’s beloved hairpin, with the whole scene so unpleasant — how could that have been resolved so quickly?
Pei Min and Wang Yingning exchanged a glance, and said quietly to Qin Yao, “We’ll tell you everything when we get back.”