Prologue

This demon, it seems, cannot be cured.

1

Ten years ago.

Winter solstice, deep in the night.

Snow had just begun to fall, and the secluded alley seemed buried under the cold, not a single sound to be heard—not even the stray cats that usually passed through were anywhere in sight.

From far away, heavy footsteps broke the silence of the freezing night.

Soon, a tightly shut door in the alley was pounded with a loud banging. It was a medicine hall, usually tended by an old physician with a full head of white hair.

A figure, wrapped tightly from head to toe in a thick cloth so that their face couldn’t be seen, gender unknown, short in stature, cradled a child of one or two years old in their arms, looking as though it took great effort. The hand freed to knock on the door trembled without pause.

Perhaps the old man slept too deeply, for it was quite a while before a light finally came on inside the medicine hall. Yawning endlessly, the old physician threw a robe over his shoulders and called weakly toward the door, “Coming, coming, stop knocking.”

As a physician, being woken in the middle of the night was nothing unusual, but it was simply too cold today—crawling out of a warm bed was truly unpleasant, and he couldn’t very well pretend to be asleep, so he sighed and dragged himself out.

He opened the door, and the cold wind slapped him in the face. The old physician sneezed, blinked a few times, but saw no one there knocking. Only a small child wrapped in cloth lay before the threshold, eyes already shut tight, face pale and bluish, breath extremely faint.

The old physician hurried to scoop up the child and turned to run back inside, shouting as he went, “Old woman! Get up quickly!”

For the rest of the night, the physician and his wife worked frantically in the treatment room—medicine, acupuncture, every method they had was tried, yet the child still would not wake. Its small hands and feet were as cold as ice, and no matter how fiercely the charcoal fire burned in the room, there was not the slightest sign of warmth returning.

The old physician pried open the child’s eyelids again, carefully checked the pulse and listened to the heartbeat, and finally let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head at his wife. “It’s no use. Held too long in the cold, and frozen on top of that—how could such a small body endure it?”

The physician’s wife sighed as well, pulling up her sleeve to gently wipe the child’s face. “Such a small child… how did this happen? Did you not see whoever brought it?”

The old physician shook his head. “By the time I opened the door, they were already gone.”

The couple sighed together once more.

“I’ll wash the child clean. You find some decent clothes.” The physician’s wife touched the cold little face. “It hasn’t even had the chance to see this world clearly, and already it’s gone. Ah well, may it be born into a good family in the next life.”

“Alright, I’ll go find something.” The old physician said, glancing once more at the child. “What a handsome little face. There’s even a cinnabar mole between the brows—such a fortunate look. Truly a pity.”

The old couple fell silent for a while.

Just then, a strange sound suddenly came from outside the window, as though someone had stepped on a broken roof tile outside.

“Who’s there?” The old physician startled, walking quickly to push open the window. Cold wind mixed with snowflakes blew in. He squinted his old eyes and looked out—the courtyard was pitch black and empty, only a blurred dark shadow just crossing over the courtyard wall.

“A thief?” the physician’s wife asked nervously. “We don’t have anything valuable here.”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t even tell if it was a person—might’ve just been a big wild cat.” The old physician rubbed his eyes and closed the window, turning back. “Tomorrow we’ll report it to the authorities, see if we can find the child’s parents. Poor thing.”

“Mm.”

The night passed, and the physician couple went to the government office first thing in the morning.

After an investigation, nothing came of it. No family had recently reported a missing child, and the little one carried nothing that could prove its identity. Notices were posted for many days, but no one came to claim it. In the end, it was handled as an orphan with no family, and buried in the graveyard outside the city.

The physician couple went once to burn paper offerings at the grave, and the matter was closed.

Just one life no one knew, just one unmarked grave. From then on, no one spoke of it again.

2

Ten years later.

The third day of the new year, early morning.

Tao Yao, still bleary with sleep, carried a bucket of specially prepared feed toward the stables. One of the horses had diarrhea, and she’d been carefully watching over it these past two days, terrified that if a horse died on her watch, Si Kuanglan might just send her to the afterlife along with it…

Thankfully she hadn’t broken any rules—treat demons, not people, was the rule, and horses were fair game.

She hadn’t even reached the stable yet when, from a distance, she spotted someone standing in the thin morning mist, affectionately stroking a horse’s face.

As she came closer, the figure’s back grew clearer—white robe, black cloak, not a hint of extra color on him, standing as tall and straight as ever, hair tied neatly, not a single strand out of place from head to toe. It was only his back, and beside him was nothing more beautiful than a stable, and yet he still looked exceptional, wreathed in mist, faintly carrying an air of the divine.

He… he’s back?! Tao Yao’s heart skipped a beat, but she quickly suppressed the momentary flutter of nerves and swaggered up behind him.

“When Ding Sansi was here, the horses in this household never had such accidents.” Before Tao Yao could speak, Si Kuanglan turned to glance at her and said flatly, “Qilin is strong and gifted, able to run five hundred li without rest, and has never fallen ill since birth. How do you intend to explain this to me?”

She had imagined many different scenes of their reunion after Si Kuanglan returned from Luoyang, but somehow none of them started with a discussion about a horse’s upset stomach…

He must have just returned to the estate—up close she could see frost forming in the strands of his hair, the tip of his nose reddened from the cold, and his face carried the weariness of a long journey. Had he not traveled through the night to get back? Riding through this weather, only sheer luck could keep a person from freezing to death. But why rush back like this? She had already asked Steward Miao about it in a roundabout way, and he’d said they wouldn’t be back before the seventh at the earliest. If he was having a good time in Luoyang, he might not return until after the Lantern Festival.

But today was only the third… surely he hadn’t rushed back out of concern for his Qilin’s upset stomach? That couldn’t be it either—horses don’t burn paper offerings…

Tao Yao’s mind raced through a chaotic string of thoughts, but when their eyes met, she answered honestly and dutifully: “The day before yesterday… um… it ate a piece of rice cake. I didn’t even have the heart to eat it myself—it was jujube paste and red bean filling. How was I supposed to know something so gifted would get diarrhea from a rice cake?”

Hearing this, Si Kuanglan said nothing, turned and patted Qilin’s head, and said sternly, “You’ve never been able to handle sweets. And you just eat whatever she gives you? Keep breaking the rules like this and if she ends up killing you, you won’t have anywhere to complain.”

Listen to that—was this really something to say on such an important day of the new year?!

Tao Yao slammed the wooden bucket down on the ground and pointed at Qilin’s face. “Tell your master the truth—did I give you that rice cake on purpose? Didn’t you snatch it right out of my hand the moment I wasn’t looking! And here I am mixing you medicine when you’re sick, and this is how a horse repays kindness?”

“Since when does a servant eat rice cake while cleaning the stables?” Si Kuanglan, who knew the truth, didn’t budge an inch. “Only you would be so careless.”

“Am I supposed to eat grass instead of rice cake?” Tao Yao put her hands on her hips and glared up at him. “Every horse I’ve ever fed has grown fat and healthy—and you still find something to nitpick!”

“A mistake is a mistake, and now you’re talking back.”

“I’m reasoning with you!”

“Someone who rolls on the ground over missing out on grilled meat is going to reason with me?”

“I only sat on the ground. I did not roll. Don’t slander me.”

“Is there a difference?”

The two of them locked eyes, sparks nearly flying between them. The horses in the stable swung their heads to watch the pair outside, their faces full of question marks.

Finally, Si Kuanglan stopped paying her any attention and, turning to leave, tossed out one last line: “Half a month’s wages docked. A small punishment as a warning.”

“You lose the argument so you dock my pay instead?” Tao Yao stamped her foot in fury and blurted at his retreating back, “Si Kuanglan, you scoundrel!”

Si Kuanglan turned back, smiling. “Insulting your employer—another half month docked.”

Tao Yao snatched up the wooden bucket, raising it halfway into the air, but in the end she held herself back… a month’s wages already gone, and now she’d have to pay for a bucket too? Not worth it! She had always been a sensible person, mm, sensible! Sensible!

She took a deep breath and said through gritted teeth, “You think you can just dock my pay however you like? I’m going to talk to Steward Miao about this!”

At that, Si Kuanglan suddenly stopped again and turned to ask, “Was the red envelope, the one as big as a pillow, to your satisfaction?”

Was he going to twist the knife further too? Tao Yao clenched her fists, telling herself not to get angry, not to get angry, and forced out a smile. “If I give that red envelope back, can I get a month’s wages in exchange?”

“Of course not.” Si Kuanglan remained as indifferent as ever, but as he turned his head back, an unguarded smile slipped out—as if a wish had been granted, as if a prank had succeeded.

Tao Yao, of course, couldn’t see this fleeting smile, and could only wish she’d stuffed the entire bucket of feed into his mouth.

If she’d known better… she wouldn’t have hoped for his return at all. Serves her right!

But then, what was this feeling—angry and yet somehow not quite angry?

Watching him standing there before her, safe and sound—even though there had never been a kind word between them, being able to face him and argue like this… was it strange that it actually made her a little happy?

Her mood suddenly shifted without her permission… Tao Yao frowned, smacked herself hard on the head, and cursed under her breath—what was wrong with her! Who gets happy arguing with someone! She must have gotten up too early and her brain wasn’t awake yet.

Just then, hurried footsteps approached—Steward Miao came jogging over and murmured something to Si Kuanglan. Si Kuanglan nodded and immediately quickened his pace to leave.

Tao Yao hastily dumped the feed into the trough and chased after Steward Miao before he could get away.

“He’s going to dock a whole month’s wages from me!” she said with a tearful face, grabbing Steward Miao’s sleeve and pointing at Si Kuanglan, who was already a good distance ahead. “Just because I ate rice cake while cleaning the stables!”

Steward Miao laughed and shook his head. “You two. Haven’t seen each other in so many days, and the moment you meet you can’t even exchange a proper greeting?”

“I’d sooner teach my horses to say ‘congratulations’ to him than have him say it to me.” Tao Yao pouted. “Scared me half to death first thing this morning—thought I’d seen a ghost!”

“The second young master arrived at dawn, and the moment he got back he went straight to the stables. I told him to change clothes and have some hot tea first, but he wouldn’t hear of it, said he’d been away too long and was worried about you…” Steward Miao suddenly broke into a fit of coughing, “—worried about the horses you’ve been raising.”

The spark of delight in Tao Yao’s eyes vanished instantly. She let her eyelids droop and said, “Could you finish your sentence before you start coughing?”

Steward Miao hurried to add, “But it’s true he was worried about you too. Heaven knows what kind of trouble you’ll get into next. And look, didn’t Qilin end up with an upset stomach?”

“I already told you, it stole my rice cake! I’m the one who’s been wronged here—I kindly treated his stupid horse’s stomach, and he docks my pay for it!” Tao Yao fumed. “And then he forces that unlucky red envelope on me too, like he can’t stand to do a single thing that would actually please me!”

“Haha, I knew that red envelope would feel more like a bomb to you than a gift. But the second young master meant well—practicing calligraphy isn’t just about the writing, it can also broaden your knowledge and cultivate your temperament. Your temper runs hot, girl, and practicing calligraphy to calm the mind would do you good,” Steward Miao said earnestly. “And besides, that brush, ink, and paper were all carefully chosen by the second young master himself. Other people would kill to have them and can’t.”

“Oh… then I suppose I owe him thanks.” Hearing Steward Miao explain it this way, Tao Yao felt a little better, and craned her neck forward. “Didn’t you say he wasn’t coming back until at least the seventh?”

Steward Miao’s brow furrowed slightly. “On New Year’s Day a visitor came wanting to submit a formal card. I told them the young master wouldn’t be back until after the new year, but the visitor was quite desperate, begging me to think of some way, saying it was a matter of life and death that truly could not wait. So, following the second young master’s usual instructions, I looked over the contents of the card myself. It turned out the matter concerned someone with a certain connection to the Si family, and the ‘trouble’ he’d run into was indeed strange and serious—truly not something that could be delayed. So that very day I sent a message by carrier pigeon to Luoyang to inform the second young master.”

So he’d rushed back to resolve some trouble… it really was rare to catch them handling actual business.

Tao Yao thought for a moment, then suddenly asked, “Do we even keep pigeons at this estate?”

Steward Miao looked at her, both amused and exasperated. “We keep foxes and chickens too—what’s so strange about pigeons? Though there aren’t many, and the pigeon coop is in a side courtyard, tended by a few experienced young servants. You just never noticed. Whenever you see them flying about, you probably just took them for ordinary pigeons.” He paused, then added, “Though they can’t really be counted entirely as ours.”

Tao Yao didn’t understand. “What do you mean?”

“Those pigeons originally belonged to Young Lady Niansheng,” Steward Miao said. “She said she felt bad that the two young masters so often accompanied her in Luoyang, and worried that if something urgent came up while the young masters weren’t at the estate, so she sent over some of her carefully raised messenger pigeons to the Si household. Those pigeons know the location of the Bright Moon Terrace like the back of their wing—release them a thousand li away and they’ll still find their way home accurately. That way, if we ever needed to find someone here, we’d never be at a loss.”

The moment she heard the name Young Lady Niansheng, Tao Yao’s mouth nearly dropped to the floor, but she quickly picked it back up and said with a forced smile, “Young Lady Niansheng really is thoughtful.”

“Indeed. Given her status, what’s most remarkable about her is that she hasn’t a shred of arrogance about her—rather, she’s a rare kind of gentle and wise, considerate of others.” Steward Miao rattled off a string of praise so naturally. It seemed his opinion of Song Niansheng was extremely high. Though that was only natural, really—someone as wealthy, beautiful, and yet unaffected as Song Niansheng, everyone was bound to like her.

Everyone except Tao Yao… though, even though she didn’t like her, she couldn’t quite say she hated her either, since there was no real reason to. Still, she couldn’t help wondering—on New Year’s Eve, what gift had Si Kuanglan given her? Surely not a red envelope the size of a pillow! A girl as immortal-like as that must be a master of both literature and painting, with no need for something as ordinary as brushes and calligraphy models. And the way Si Kuanglan looked at that mortal fairy-like beauty—she still remembered it clearly—attentive, gentle, admiring, in every way the opposite of that ghostly look he gave her.

The two of them would probably never have a chance to get along well. A small pang of disappointment stirred in her heart, but on second thought, mutual dislike wasn’t so bad either—she was going to leave eventually anyway, so this way, at least she could leave without regret.

She quickly shook off her momentarily sour mood and asked Steward Miao, acting as though nothing had happened, “Where’s the eldest young master? Surely he didn’t come back just to catch up on sleep?”

“The eldest young master is still in Luoyang. He said he wanted to help Young Lady Niansheng find more interesting things, so she wouldn’t get bored on her own. The eldest young master has always had a playful streak and no shortage of clever ideas—with him at the Bright Moon Terrace, Young Lady Niansheng must be quite happy. He also said he wanted to gather with some old friends in Luoyang, and would decide whether to come back after the Lantern Festival.” Steward Miao sighed. “The estate’s proper business is left to the second young master to handle.”

Tao Yao smiled. “I bet the second young master would rather the eldest young master stay in Luoyang and enjoy himself.”

Steward Miao understood at once and said thoughtfully, “Ever since the day he learned his elder brother had fallen ill, the second young master has always left the fun things for him and kept the unpleasant things for himself. That’s just how he’s always been.”

Tao Yao watched Si Kuanglan’s hurried figure walking ahead—this man… he’d probably been like this for a very long time, always walking alone, seeming indifferent to everything, not even caring about his own joys and sorrows. But those he left behind him were always, without fail, kept somewhere safe.

Forget it. She’d scold him less from now on.

Just then, a flock of pigeons wheeled overhead in the morning light. She looked up at them and rolled her eyes.

3

“Second Young Master, if we truly had no other way, we would never have dared to trouble your household. My husband’s life is entirely in your hands now! If you can resolve this matter, even if we had to give up everything we own, we would still repay this great kindness.”

In the main hall, a middle-aged woman dressed as a wealthy lady, along with several maids and servants, knelt on the ground together, pleading desperately as though clutching a lifeline.

Si Kuanglan sat calmly in his seat, holding a cup of tea, and said flatly, “Since I’ve returned, I won’t sit idle. Madam, please go back for now. I’ll make preparations and pay a visit to your household first thing tomorrow morning.”

Upon hearing this, the woman was overjoyed, thanking him repeatedly and calling him “Second Young Master.” After several more kowtows, she left with her servants, showering him with gratitude. But after only a few steps, seeming still uneasy, she turned back to ask once more, “Definitely tomorrow morning?”

“Rest assured, madam.” Si Kuanglan carefully blew a few tea leaves aside, not even sparing her a glance.

Only then did the woman relax somewhat and take her leave.

Steward Miao, who had seen them out, returned and said to Si Kuanglan, “For Madam Xiao to come in person shows how truly desperate they are.”

Si Kuanglan set down his teacup. “We’ll see.”

“Looking at what was written on that card, this matter is quite strange. When we go to their household tomorrow, we’ll need to pay close attention.” Steward Miao grew more uneasy the more he thought about it. “You should bring your sword. Just in case it’s needed.”

Si Kuanglan smiled. “The Xiao household is no tiger’s den. That Xiao Yuanxin is nothing more than a businessman—no need to worry so much.”

“But…” Steward Miao frowned. “I’ve heard bits and pieces that Old Master Xiao, in order to keep his business thriving, often invites all sorts of shady wandering practitioners into the household to perform rituals for turning fortune and drawing wealth—and these dealings, from what I hear, aren’t the kind that can be spoken of openly.”

“How so, not spoken of openly?” Si Kuanglan asked.

Steward Miao’s frown deepened, and he lowered his voice. “I fear it may be dark arts.”

“Our two families haven’t been in contact for many years now—it’s remarkable that you still keep track of their affairs,” Si Kuanglan said with a smile. “Which just goes to show how indispensable you truly are to this household.”

Steward Miao said earnestly, “Second Young Master, better safe than sorry. Even though his household once had some friendship with ours, one must still guard against others. He’s suffered this sudden calamity—who’s to say he wasn’t backfired upon by something he meddled with. We mustn’t be careless.”

“I have my own judgment.” Si Kuanglan glanced toward the door. “Heard enough? Come out already.”

Tao Yao shoved Mo Ya out ahead of her, Young Master Liu shoved Tao Yao out, and Gungun, carrying a steamed bun in its mouth, sat perched on Young Master Liu’s shoulder. The three humans and one fox calmly made their way over to stand before Si Kuanglan.

“Who was that distinguished guest?” Tao Yao pointed toward the door. “That lady’s attire was no ordinary household’s, that’s for sure.”

“Just that brocade robe alone must be worth a fortune,” Young Master Liu said enviously. “And the hairpins on her head, the bracelets on her wrists—dazzling enough to blind you.”

Mo Ya, however, said, “You all only saw how wealthy she was—I only saw the worry on her face. Second Young Master, has something truly dreadful happened to her household?”

Si Kuanglan didn’t deny it. “Worse than dreadful, in some ways.”

“Second Young Master rushed back without even a thought for the beauty in Luoyang—so it seems you’ve made up your mind to resolve this trouble?” Tao Yao deliberately put extra weight on the word “beauty.”

Si Kuanglan sighed lightly. “The beauty is certainly important, but the Si family’s business cannot be neglected either—otherwise what would I use to feed you lot of sneaky troublemakers?”

“Who’s feeding who? Who’s the one who just docked a whole month of my wages!” Tao Yao’s face darkened again.

“Alright now, the guest has only just left, don’t you worry she might turn back and catch you making a scene.” Steward Miao hurried to smooth things over, then said to Tao Yao, “That was Madam Xiao, wife of Old Master Xiao Yuanxin, a great figure in the city. Changfeng, Songxian, Mingze, and seven or eight other fine establishments are all under his ownership. Besides being skilled in business, his brewing craft is second to none—the wine he brews has long been a favorite among the imperial family and nobility. Even the late emperor once praised it without end, and bestowed upon him a golden plaque reading ‘Seller of Nectar’ as a reward. Truly a man of boundless glory and wealth beyond compare.” He glanced at Si Kuanglan, and seeing no sign of objection, continued, “Back when the old master was alive, every year during the holidays, Old Master Xiao would often come to pay his respects. Knowing the old master had no taste for common gifts, he would bring his own fine brewed wine as a present, which suited the old master’s taste perfectly. Combined with his thoughtful way of handling matters, the old master came to admire him greatly, and over time regarded him as a friend.”

“Oh… so that’s the history between your two households.” Tao Yao suddenly understood, looking at Si Kuanglan. “Then you really should help him—after all, your family drank plenty of his good wine back then.”

Si Kuanglan, however, said coldly, “I never drank a single drop of his wine.”

Seeing Si Kuanglan’s expression, Tao Yao lowered her voice and asked Steward Miao, “Our second young master doesn’t seem too fond of this friendship?”

“Naturally not,” Steward Miao said. “After the old master and mistress passed away, Old Master Xiao seemed to think the Si household had fallen into decline, and changed his attitude, gradually cutting off contact with us. At the time, the two young masters were still quite young. On the first anniversary of the old master and mistress’s passing, the eldest young master, knowing his father had greatly loved the wine Old Master Xiao brewed, went to his household to ask for a jar. But he was turned away with a few dismissive words. I remember the eldest young master came back and cried bitterly. From then on, the two households had no further dealings, and I only ever heard bits of news about Old Master Xiao from others.”

“Quite the realist, that one,” Young Master Liu laughed. “But shrewd as he is, he never anticipated that the Si household would produce someone even more capable than the last generation. As a businessman, his foresight was rather lacking there. For a man like that to attain such great wealth, he must have relied on something beyond mere foresight.”

Mo Ya’s eyes rolled as he connected this to the “turning fortune and drawing wealth” business he’d overheard Steward Miao mention earlier, and blurted out, “Could it be that he practiced dark arts for the sake of wealth, and that’s why he’s brought disaster on himself and needs the second young master to save him?”

“What nerve.” Tao Yao snorted. “If it were me, someone who wouldn’t spare even a sip of wine, I wouldn’t have the shamelessness to turn around and beg for my life to be saved.” She stared at Si Kuanglan. “I don’t know what trouble this Old Master Xiao has gotten himself into, but is a man like that really worth rushing back through the freezing cold for?”

Si Kuanglan smiled. “When you treat a patient, do you pick and choose?”

Tao Yao paused, then answered honestly, “I don’t pick patients. I pick moods.”

“Then you’re quite a fortunate physician.” Si Kuanglan stood up, and as he passed by her, left two more sentences behind. “I don’t pick clients, and I don’t pick moods—I only look at whether this ‘trouble’ can be resolved. The Si household’s standing today was not built by picking and choosing.”

With that, he walked straight out of the hall.

Young Master Liu clapped softly. “Well said! Truly more dependable than the head of our own household.”

“Agreed,” Mo Ya murmured in agreement.

It took Tao Yao a good while to come back to her senses after his words, and strangely, she found she had no wish to lose her temper at anyone.

From a child who couldn’t even beg a jar of wine, to the standing he held in the world today—the challenges and hardships he must have faced, countless and never of his own choosing, weren’t things he hadn’t wanted to choose—he simply hadn’t been able to.

She looked toward the door, and there again was that figure, always alone.

Something stirred in her heart…

“Second Young Master! Take me with you tomorrow! I want to see Madam Xiao’s big hairpin again! It was so pretty! I want one too, aaahhh!!” Tao Yao suddenly shouted and dashed outside.

The others were startled.

“Oh no, she’s going to cause trouble again.” Mo Ya stuck out his tongue. “Surely the second young master won’t be so impulsive as to actually take her, will he?”

Young Master Liu watched the two figures beyond the door, the corner of his mouth curling up. “He heads straight for the stables the moment he’s back—who doesn’t know Tao Yao goes to feed the horses at that exact hour every day?”

“Huh? What stables, what breakfast?” Mo Ya looked utterly confused.

Young Master Liu patted his bald head, smiling. “Everyone has their moments of being impulsive.”

“Huh?” Mo Ya still didn’t get it.

Steward Miao rubbed his forehead, half-smiling. “With someone accompanying her, I’ll worry a little less.”

Young Master Liu and Steward Miao exchanged a glance, both understanding without needing to say more.

Mo Ya looked between the two of them, exchanging their cryptic looks, and picked up Gungun, troubled. “You don’t understand either, do you?”

Gungun let out a satisfied burp, jumped onto his head, and wagged its tail.

4

This morning, snow drifted down sparsely once again, and icicles gleamed under the eaves and on the branches. Stalls selling all kinds of hot food lined the street, crowded with customers blowing warm breath and stamping their feet, eagerly waiting for something good to warm them from the stove.

Every day in the winter capital began just like this.

A carriage rolled briskly down the street, heading straight for the Xiao residence in the southern part of the city.

Madam Xiao, leading a large group, had been waiting anxiously at the gate since early morning, watching for it. Not until the carriage’s shadow appeared in the distance did her expression finally ease somewhat.

Before the carriage had even come to a full stop, Madam Xiao led everyone forward to meet it.

The moment Si Kuanglan stepped out, before his feet even touched the ground, Madam Xiao was already speaking through a choked voice, “Second Young Master, you’ve gone through so much trouble for us!” She looked ready to kneel again.

“Madam, there’s no need for such formality,” Si Kuanglan said, extending a hand to stop her. “Having accepted your card, I will naturally do what needs to be done.”

“Such a great kindness, I shall never forget it.” Madam Xiao wiped at her reddened eyes, then glanced toward the carriage. “Is it just Second Young Master alone?”

The two sides were indeed mismatched—the entire Xiao household had turned out in force, while the Si household came with just one man alone… they’d probably assumed that handling such a thorny matter would require several people from the Si household to manage.

Si Kuanglan turned to glance back at the carriage and deliberately cleared his throat.

No movement from inside.

Si Kuanglan’s brow furrowed. He stepped back half a pace and gave the carriage a light-but-not-so-light slap. Under the force of his palm, the entire carriage shook several times, even the horse turned its head to look.

Soon there was a rustling from inside, the curtain was flung open, and Tao Yao’s head poked out in a fluster, a bit of drool still on the corner of her mouth. She blurted out, “Was that an earthquake? Why’d it shake so hard?”

Si Kuanglan didn’t even bother to look at her. “Awake now?”

Only then did Tao Yao realize something was wrong—they’d already arrived at the Xiao residence?

She scrambled down from the carriage and stood beside Si Kuanglan, looking utterly innocent. “It’s the fault of our carriage running too smoothly—and besides, these past few days I’ve been so exhausted looking after Qilin!”

“You eat more than it and sleep earlier than it—and you call that exhausted?” Si Kuanglan still refused to look at her.

Tao Yao’s eyes widened. “How would you know I sleep earlier than it does—did it tell you that?”

“Do you think it wouldn’t?” Si Kuanglan tossed off this line and walked straight toward the Xiao residence’s gate.

“Since when does it understand horse language…” Tao Yao muttered, hurrying to catch up.

She’d actually gotten up before dawn that morning, waiting early in the courtyard, terrified of missing Si Kuanglan.

She had come fully prepared to be shameless about tagging along, but to her surprise, when Si Kuanglan saw that she really intended to follow him to the Xiao residence, he hadn’t refused her on the spot—especially with Steward Miao chiming in that the Xiao household’s matter seemed rather strange, and more people meant more eyes watching out for each other, and Young Master Liu had also argued convincingly that since he’d docked a whole month’s wages from her and she was still upset about it, why not bring her along to help out—if she did some good, it could offset the debt and she’d get her money back. Otherwise, with her still fuming, who knew which horse in the Si household would suffer for it next.

The two of them had made it plain they meant to foist Tao Yao onto him, and Si Kuanglan, without further comment, climbed into the carriage on his own and simply said, “Do you need me to help you up too?”

Tao Yao’s face lit up, and she blurted, “Young Master Liu was right, this counts as extra work this time—if I help out, my payment gets calculated separately!”

“We’ll see if you actually help first.” Tao Yao giggled and quickly hopped into the carriage.

Mo Ya wanted to go along too, but Young Master Liu grabbed him. “What would you go for?”

“Didn’t you say the Xiao residence is strange?” Mo Ya said, puzzled. “What if something goes wrong?”

“However strange it gets, two great menaces like them will be more than enough.” Young Master Liu smiled meaningfully. “You, little baldy, don’t need to worry about it.”

Mo Ya thought about it, then tilted his head at Young Master Liu. “Something’s off about you!”

“Enough chatter, let’s go get breakfast!”

Young Master Liu laughed and dragged Mo Ya off, leaving Steward Miao calling after the carriage, “Do be careful!”

Tao Yao stuck her head out of the carriage window. “I’ll keep an eye on the second young master!”

And true to her word, she did watch him the whole way there. He really was good-looking—she’d seen no shortage of striking figures, immortals in the heavens and demons on earth alike, but setting aside mere superficial beauty, just the aura that radiated from him inside and out, unconventional through and through, meant that this mortal, Si Kuanglan, lost to none of them. Along the way he continued his habit of reading, while she propped her chin in her hand, staring at him unblinking as he sat as steady as a mountain, and with the steady rhythm of hooves and turning pages, she somehow ended up falling asleep watching him…

Strangely, it seemed that as long as she was close enough to him, her heart felt especially calm, and all her tense emotions faded away within that range. On the journey from the Si residence to the Xiao residence, in her sleep, she even had a dream—she was floating in icy water, and a hand reached out, pulling her into warm light… and then she was rudely shaken awake.

Madam Xiao glanced at Tao Yao, puzzled. “Second Young Master, may I ask who this young lady is?”

“A servant of the household,” Si Kuanglan answered. “Brought along to lend a hand.”

“To Madam, I’m surnamed Tao, just call me Girl Tao,” Tao Yao introduced herself with a smile, though her gaze couldn’t quite pull away from Madam Xiao’s magnificent jewelry.

“So this is Miss Tao.” Madam Xiao gave her a slight nod, politely saying, “Thank you for the trouble.”

Tao Yao glanced at Si Kuanglan, already thinking about how they’d split the payment… She had no idea just how much the Xiao household had offered him in the end. Knowing his character, he probably wouldn’t stoop to bargaining, and a household like the Xiao family, where even a single brick or tile screamed “I am truly rich,” wasn’t something one encountered every day—she absolutely could not let this opportunity slip away!

But Madam Xiao had said that as long as the matter could be resolved, they were willing to give up everything they owned, which meant the reward must be substantial. Even if Si Kuanglan were stingy and gave her only a small portion, it should still be enough to buy plenty of good things… the more she thought about it, the more curious she grew about the Xiao household’s “trouble.”

The Si residence was already quite spacious, but compared to the Xiao residence, it fell somewhat short. As Tao Yao walked through the vast, magnificent grounds, she marveled that she was finally seeing what real wealth at the emperor’s feet looked like—a mansion this large, ordinary people would surely get lost in it. Yesterday she had asked Steward Miao what kind of trouble this overwhelmingly wealthy Old Master Xiao had gotten into, and Steward Miao had only said it was quite troublesome, adding that the Si household had its own rules—if Si Kuanglan refused to let her participate, then whatever was written on that formal card could not be revealed to her at all. And on the way here, aside from reading, Si Kuanglan hadn’t said a single word to her about Old Master Xiao. She hadn’t bothered to ask further either—now that she was here, whether it was man or ghost would soon become clear.

Madam Xiao, leading the way, wore a complicated expression—part joy at seeing Si Kuanglan keep his word and come, part worry that even he might be unable to solve the problem. Her eyes remained red and swollen, showing no telling how many sleepless nights, how many tears she’d shed. The young servant boy trailing behind her, carrying a hand warmer, tried several times along the way to hand it to her, but each time she refused it. Now, aside from resolving her husband’s trouble as quickly as possible, nothing else mattered to her at all.

Tao Yao quietly reflected on how deep the affection between this couple must be.

Si Kuanglan said nothing the whole way, only glancing briefly at the scenery as they passed.

Everyone already knew of the Si household’s second young master’s cold, proud, and eccentric temperament. Since he didn’t speak, no one else dared to say much either, and they simply quickened their pace in silence.

After a while, Madam Xiao led them to a side courtyard with its gate tightly shut. Four burly guards stationed beside the gate hurried forward to greet her when they saw her coming.

Tao Yao noticed these guards, all looking weary, with dark circles under their eyes bigger than the eyes themselves—clearly they’d been on watch all night. Their clothing was strange too, dressed head to toe in red, with all sorts of Buddha statues, bagua talismans, and safety charms hung haphazardly around their necks. It seemed they weren’t picky about which deity they called on—whatever they knew of, whatever might protect them, they’d all been summoned onto their persons. Paired with their troubled expressions, it was more than a little comical. Looking again at the courtyard gate, on each of the two leaves was painted a vivid red talisman symbol, origin unclear, presumably also meant to ward off misfortune and draw good luck—which only made one more curious just what kind of situation inside the courtyard could have reduced these men to such a state.

Madam Xiao didn’t rush inside, only asking the guards, “How is it?”

“The masters have been performing rituals the whole time. So far it’s been relatively calm,” the guards reported.

“Good.” Madam Xiao frowned, then turned to Si Kuanglan. “Second Young Master, please, this way.” With that, she dismissed all the attendants around her, telling them to wait outside the courtyard gate.

Si Kuanglan and Tao Yao followed her into the side courtyard. No sooner had they stepped in than the gate was hastily shut behind them, as though those outside feared something might slip out.

Tao Yao marveled inwardly once more—even the Xiao family’s side courtyard was bigger than an ordinary household’s whole estate.

But before she could finish marveling, a sudden gust of wind kicked up, sweeping several yellow-and-black papers into the air, one of which slapped squarely onto Tao Yao’s face.

“What is this thing!” Tao Yao grabbed the object off her face and threw it to the ground—it was a half-burned yellow talisman paper with black characters. Looking closer, she realized the ground was scattered everywhere with paper ash and half-charred talismans, blowing about wildly with every gust of wind.

Si Kuanglan glanced over at her, then quickly looked away, his gaze turning toward the altar table set up in the center of the courtyard, laid out with incense candles and offerings, surrounding a bronze cauldron with smoke curling up from it. Three men sat around it, each wearing a black cap and colorful robe—one shaking a bell, one fingering prayer beads, one holding a fan, eyes closed, chanting incantations only they understood. Impossible to tell which sect these self-proclaimed masters belonged to.

“These three are masters from the Dragon Tiger Sect, most skilled at exorcising evil spirits. I was fortunate enough to secure them—they’ve been performing rituals in the household for seven days now,” Madam Xiao explained on her own.

“The Dragon Tiger Sect…” Si Kuanglan smiled faintly. “Has it shown any effect?”

“This…” Madam Xiao looked somewhat awkward, unwilling either to lie or to have those three overhear anything unfavorable, so she said only, “This matter is troublesome—it’s probably not something that can be resolved in just a few days. The three of them have also worked hard at it. Let’s wait and see a bit longer.”

Whether Si Kuanglan had ever heard of the Dragon Tiger Sect, Tao Yao had no idea—she certainly hadn’t. Looking at the three men putting on such an air of seriousness, amid this courtyard of chaos, she simply couldn’t associate them with the word “masters.” Whether they had any real skill was doubtful—more likely, they were frauds…

“Well, no rushing things,” Si Kuanglan said, going along with Madam Xiao’s words, then pointed toward a room facing the altar. “Is Old Master Xiao in there?”

Madam Xiao nodded quickly. “I’ll take you in.”

Si Kuanglan’s gaze settled back on the room. “She’s coming in with you?” she started to ask, hesitating, then said quietly to Si Kuanglan, “Does this young lady go in with you as well? I worry…”

“She won’t be afraid,” Si Kuanglan said plainly. “Wherever I am, she’ll be. Madam, there’s no need to worry about her.”

“I see…” Madam Xiao had nothing more to say and walked forward a couple more steps. “The two of you, please follow me.”

Tao Yao hurried to keep up, but Si Kuanglan suddenly caught her by the arm.

“What are you doing? Weren’t you letting me come along?” Tao Yao asked, confused. “Changing your mind now?”

Si Kuanglan reached out expressionlessly and flicked a finger against the tip of her nose, then held his finger up for her to see—smeared with a bit of black soot, likely from the talisman paper that had slapped her face earlier.

“How improper,” Si Kuanglan said, shaking his head, and walked past her into the room.

Improper?! That counted as improper?! It was those three idiots’ fault for burning paper so carelessly! Besides, it wasn’t as if she’d rubbed her nose on it herself! This man really did find fault with her over everything… but then again, he could’ve just told her to wipe it off herself—why bother lowering himself to help?

Somehow she couldn’t manage to get properly angry. Sigh.

Tao Yao rubbed her nose absentmindedly and hurried after him.

Well, whatever she wanted to know, she’d know soon enough.

The moment Tao Yao stepped over the threshold, her vision suddenly darkened…

5

This room was really dark!

It took Tao Yao a good while to adjust to the light inside.

Every window had been nailed shut with wooden boards, letting not a sliver of outside light in. Every piece of furniture that had a mirror or any reflective surface had been draped completely with thick cloth, even the floor hadn’t been spared. The entire room was lit only by a single oil lamp against the wall, its bean-sized flame looking about to gutter out.

The room was a mess—the table sat askew, a stool lay overturned on the floor, and some books that should have been resting properly on the shelf had been torn to shreds, scattered all over the floor.

A figure sat huddled in the corner, wrapped in a thick blanket.

Madam Xiao gazed at this chaotic room with pain in her eyes, cautiously stepping closer to the corner, and said gently, “My lord, the second young master has arrived!”

Was this Old Master Xiao?! Tao Yao glanced at Si Kuanglan, puzzled—it was hard to imagine a wealthy man who owned such a mansion would make such a wretched entrance.

The figure beneath the blanket stirred a little at the sound of Madam Xiao’s voice, but still didn’t lift its head out.

Si Kuanglan stepped forward and said, “Old Master Xiao, I’ve accepted your card. Come out and let’s talk.”

At the sound of his voice, the movement beneath the blanket finally grew a bit more pronounced. After some hesitation, the blanket was slowly pulled back, and a head slowly emerged from beneath it.

Though the lamp was dim, the face was still just barely visible.

And it was fortunate it was only just barely visible—had this been under normal bright light, who knows how many people it would have frightened to death. Never in this world, it seemed, had there been such a “peculiar” human face—one half was the plump, double-eyelidded face of a stubbly middle-aged man, while the other half belonged to a fair, refined single-eyelidded young man who looked no more than twenty, with half a cinnabar mole on his forehead. This person cowering before them looked as though someone had torn two different portraits in half and pieced one half of each together.

The problem was, this wasn’t a portrait at all—it was a living, breathing person.

Going by age, the fat half of the face was undoubtedly Old Master Xiao’s, but who did the other half belong to?

“My lord…” Seeing him show his face, Madam Xiao’s tears immediately fell. She knelt beside him, holding him up. “Now that the second young master is willing to come, you’re sure to be saved!”

Just as Steward Miao had said, Old Master Xiao truly had run into something worse than dreadful…

Tao Yao secretly tugged at Si Kuanglan’s sleeve and whispered, “Half-and-half ‘trouble’—however are you going to solve this one… cut it open with a knife?”

Si Kuanglan ignored her, stepping forward to crouch before Old Master Xiao, carefully examining him. “It started ten days ago?”

“That’s right.” Madam Xiao wiped her tears. “During the day everything was fine—we’d followed the yearly custom and brought all sorts of offerings to pay respects at my husband’s master’s grave. But when we returned that night, something was wrong. First he said his face itched. I thought some insect or something poisonous had bitten him during the day, so I got up to look for ointment. But before I even found it, he was already rolling on the ground, screaming that his face itched, hurt, and tingled all at once, like hundreds of bugs biting into it. I went to look, and I nearly fainted on the spot! He turned into this right before my eyes! A perfectly whole person, and now only half a face remains!” Madam Xiao’s voice trembled, and she continued, “He passed out after that, and I was so frightened and confused I didn’t dare tell anyone, only called for a trusted steward and told him to rush and fetch a doctor we knew well. The doctor came, and he too was badly startled, but forced himself to take his pulse, and said the pulse showed nothing abnormal, and told us to seek another way. The steward said perhaps it was possession by an evil spirit. My mind was in chaos, and I remembered that my husband had often kept company with wandering practitioners of strange arts, so I had the steward go find them—which is how those few outside came to be here. They’ve been performing rituals for these several days, and I had the most trustworthy guards take turns watching the gate to this courtyard. No one may enter without my command. But…”

“But after all these days of rituals, Old Master Xiao is still… half and half. No wonder you had to swallow your pride and come to the Si household to beg for help.” Tao Yao looked at the figure under the blanket, nearly laughing out loud—she’d never seen someone brought this low, and remembering what he’d once done to the Si brothers, all she could think was how fortunes turn, though it hadn’t even taken thirty years for this one.

Hearing Tao Yao’s voice, Old Master Xiao looked up and let out a strange cry, pointing at her with a trembling hand. “Ghost! A female ghost! The woman in red has come to harm me!” With that, he pulled the blanket back over himself and refused to show his face again.

Madam Xiao hurried to hold him, comforting him. “It’s alright, my lord, you’re seeing things. That’s just a young lady who came with the second young master to help—not a female ghost.”

“The woman in red! The female ghost has come to harm me!” The shouting continued from beneath the blanket.

Si Kuanglan glanced at Tao Yao with a smile. “Quite a fitting assessment of you, actually.”

“Si Kuanglan!” Tao Yao stamped her foot. “Believe it or not I’ll show you what a real vicious ghost looks like!”

“No manners at all.” Si Kuanglan stood and looked around the room, then asked Madam Xiao, “Do you recognize this other half of a face?”

Madam Xiao shook her head. “Never seen it before.”

“Is he afraid of light?” Si Kuanglan asked again.

“After this happened, whenever he saw a mirror or anything reflective, he’d go into a frenzy. Whether he can’t bear the outside light or simply doesn’t want to see it, I don’t know—he only insisted I seal up the windows quickly, then huddled here under the blanket all day. With his face like this, who wouldn’t have a hard time accepting it?” Madam Xiao grew more distressed as she spoke. “Seeing him like this, and being unable to do anything about it. I can’t even tell anyone what happened to him—I can only say he’s unwell and needs a period of rest. The shop’s business has temporarily been handed over to those below him.”

She looked at Si Kuanglan and suddenly kowtowed deeply. “Second Young Master, I know my husband’s attitude toward the Si family back then wasn’t exactly generous, and yet now I come to you begging for his life—this face of mine has grown quite thick indeed… but after over twenty years of marriage, I have no other way. I cannot bear to simply watch him continue like this. That you’re willing to accept this card despite our past, I am beyond grateful. Anything within the Xiao household that catches your eye, you may have it, whatever you desire!”

“The reward can wait. Once the matter is resolved, Steward Miao will settle accounts with you.” Si Kuanglan’s gaze returned to Old Master Xiao. “Even in his confused state, he wouldn’t cry out about a female ghost harming him for no reason, and specifically mention it was a ghost in red. Madam Xiao, is there something you haven’t told me?”

At the mention of red clothing, Tao Yao instinctively glanced down at her own outfit, and snorted.

Madam Xiao hesitated for a moment, then said, “Actually… I’ve seen her too. Ever since the day I moved in to care for him through the nights, every night a woman in red comes in through the door, stands beside my husband, and doesn’t say a word. I seem to fall into some kind of nightmare—I can see but I can’t move. By the time I can move again, there’s no red-clad woman anywhere in the room.”

“That hardly counts as seeing anything,” Tao Yao said. “Sounds like nothing more than a nightmare of yours, Madam.”

“But it’s the same nightmare every night…” Madam Xiao trailed off, hesitant to say more.

Si Kuanglan smiled. “In that case, we’ll have to stay the night here and see if we might encounter this ‘female ghost’ ourselves.”

Tao Yao looked surprised. “Stay the night? We’re not going back today?”

“No leaving until the trouble is resolved,” Si Kuanglan said, looking at her. “Since you’ve come along, don’t even think about going back.”

“I’ll lose sleep in a bed that isn’t mine!” Tao Yao refused outright—she’d been counting on getting back in time for dinner.

“Who said there’d be a bed for you to sleep in?” Si Kuanglan said flatly. “As a servant, you should know your place.”

“What?” Tao Yao rose onto her toes to try to meet his eyes. “Not letting me go home is one thing, but in the middle of winter you’re going to make me sleep on the floor? Are you even human?!”

“Don’t want next month’s wages anymore?”

“I want them…”

Madam Xiao was rather confused by their exchange—even she wouldn’t dare be so casual with Si Kuanglan, yet this little servant girl dared to speak to him with such disregard for propriety, and Si Kuanglan didn’t seem to mind at all. She couldn’t help glancing at Tao Yao once more—a young girl, passably cute in appearance, but with no particular claim to great beauty. Given Si Kuanglan’s status and standards, it seemed unlikely he’d harbor any secretly tender feelings for a girl like this… and yet the way the two of them bantered back and forth was truly odd. Puzzled as she was, she didn’t dare ask further. The one thing she could be certain of was that, knowing Si Kuanglan’s usual manner, he would never bring along someone useless—this girl might well have some real skill, not someone to offend. Besides, whatever relationship existed between them was of no importance—what mattered was whether the two of them could resolve the greatest calamity the Xiao household had faced in decades.

“You two, don’t worry. It’s rare for the second young master to be willing to stay behind—whatever you two need, just tell me. I won’t have you go without,” Madam Xiao hurried to smooth things over, then said to Tao Yao, “As long as you sleep comfortably, high beds and warm pillows, brocade quilts and fur blankets—the household has everything you could need.”

Before Tao Yao could respond, Si Kuanglan had already said, “I’ve come to resolve trouble, not to add to it. Tonight we’ll stay in the side courtyard, no need to bring anything extra, madam, don’t trouble yourself. I have only one request.”

Madam Xiao said quickly, “Second Young Master, please speak freely!”

“Write out in detail everything that happened before and after Old Master Xiao’s incident, including everywhere you went, everyone you saw, even everything you ate. Leave out nothing, and the sooner the better.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll go prepare it right away.” Madam Xiao turned back to Old Master Xiao. “My lord, you see, we will save you! Don’t torment yourself any further. Please eat at least a little of the meals we bring, or your body won’t be able to bear it.”

But Old Master Xiao paid her no attention, only curling up under the blanket, trembling.

Madam Xiao sighed and said to them, “Let’s step outside first.”

Just then, Old Master Xiao suddenly poked his head out from beneath the blanket again, eyes darting wildly, and said, “Kill them all, the female ghost must die… the male ghost too! The little ghost too!”

“My lord, you…” Madam Xiao’s tears nearly fell again. She said to them, “He grows more delirious by the day, saying things no one can understand.”

“It will make sense eventually,” Si Kuanglan said. “Madam, just do as I’ve said.”

“Yes!”

Before the three of them left the room, Tao Yao glanced back at Old Master Xiao, and some thought seemed to strike her—she suddenly turned back and crouched down before the still-raving Old Master Xiao, carefully examining his strange face once more, finally settling her gaze on his eyes. After a moment’s thought, she said with a grin, “I’m not a ghost. I can help you kill ghosts.”

“Kill ghosts? Kill ghosts, good, good!” Old Master Xiao suddenly grew excited, pointing at his own face with one hand. “Kill it! Kill it all! It can’t be him! How could it be him!”

“But you have to let me see where the ghost is,” Tao Yao coaxed him with a smile.

“Here! It’s here!” His finger jabbed wildly at his own face.

Tao Yao took the chance to check his pulse, then lifted his eyelids to look, and her brow furrowed at once. Si Kuanglan, waiting at the door, glanced back but didn’t hurry her to come out.

After a while, Tao Yao walked out of the room, lost in thought.

Si Kuanglan looked at the yellow papers still fluttering about the courtyard and smiled. “Wasn’t it ‘treat demons, not people’?”

Tao Yao gave him a sidelong glance and pointed back toward the room. “Put him out there right now and see how many people call him a monster.”

“Fair enough. Doesn’t break your rule then.” Si Kuanglan started toward the courtyard gate.

“Wait!” Tao Yao suddenly called after him. “Why do I feel like the way you agreed so readily to bring me along wasn’t really about giving me a chance to earn my wages back?”

Si Kuanglan paused and turned back with a smile. “Knowing how to make good use of people is an excellent habit.”

With that, he walked straight out of the courtyard.

“Making good use of people?” Tao Yao stood there scratching her head, and it took her quite a while to realize—this man must have already known long ago that Old Master Xiao’s half-changed face was no ordinary illness, that the matter was far too serious to be compared to mere quarrels or petty theft. Knowing Si Kuanglan’s deep and calculating nature—once he acted, he never allowed himself to fail—he must have planned from the very start to have her be the one to solve Old Master Xiao’s trouble! And yet… it was he who needed her help, so how had it ended up seeming as though she’d volunteered herself, eager to show off?

She’d been outmaneuvered again.

Tao Yao stamped her foot in frustration, but this was no time to dwell on it. Thankfully she had come along, or who else could have seen that Old Master Xiao’s “illness” was truly the work of a scheming demon.

This time, at least, it wouldn’t break her rules. Tao Yao’s duty was to oversee all the demons of the realm—minor offenses to be punished, grave sins to be executed. Whatever demon had reduced Old Master Xiao to this disgraceful state would probably not be let off lightly.

She thought for a moment, then walked over to the three “masters” and asked with a smile, “I hear you three have been chanting away here for quite a few days now. Have you found the ‘root of the illness’ afflicting Old Master Xiao?”

Seeing their ritual interrupted by a young girl, the three men’s faces immediately showed displeasure. The one holding the fan glared at Tao Yao. “Get away at once, don’t disturb our ritual.”

“What ritual are you performing, exactly?” Tao Yao pressed on.

“You wouldn’t understand even if we told you! Step aside now, or don’t blame us for being rude!”

“This place is haunted by a vengeful spirit! If not for the three of us holding the line, do you think Old Master Xiao would still be alive! You keep disturbing us, girl, and we won’t go easy on you!”

“Get lost!”

The three men scolded her all at once, then closed their eyes and resumed chanting.

A vengeful spirit at work? Tao Yao nearly burst out laughing. Whatever handsome sum the wealthy Madam Xiao had paid these three, it was enough to keep them planted here for days on end without sleep, going through all the motions… sigh, how easily other people made their fortunes, while she found it so hard to earn even a little money.

Tactfully, she walked away, muttering to herself as she went, “It sounds like Madam Xiao mentioned the masters haven’t shown any results after all these days—the payment might have to be cut in half and given to my young master instead. And here I thought a wealthy family like this wouldn’t care about money, but I guess they’re careful with every penny too.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than the three men’s eyes flew open. The one holding the bell instantly went red with fury, threw his bell to the ground, and shouted at the one with the fan, “Brother, didn’t you agree with that woman? Twenty bars of gold, not a single one less!”

“We had an agreement!!”

“So why is she reneging now? And who’s that young man they brought with them, daring to come and steal our share?”

The moment money was mentioned, the group’s expressions instantly changed. They leapt up from the ground, and the one with the fan called after Tao Yao, “You brat, where’d your young master come from anyway?”

Tao Yao said innocently, “My young master said you three aren’t even worthy of knowing his name. He said so, not me—I still have plenty of respect for you masters.”

“Such young age, such big talk.”

“Brother, we cannot let him get away with such arrogance!”

“If we don’t teach him a lesson, where will the Dragon Tiger Sect’s dignity be!”

And then, Tao Yao watched as these three “masters” stormed off toward the courtyard gate in a fury. She covered her mouth, grinning wickedly.

Soon, loud accusations came from beyond the courtyard wall, followed by a strange commotion, and after that… silence.

Once she guessed it was safe, Tao Yao crept over to the courtyard gate and peeked outside—the three masters lay sprawled on the ground, eyes blackened, noses swollen red, each looking thoroughly disheveled, their ritual implements scattered everywhere, including two broken fire pokers.

Si Kuanglan stood beside them, completely unscathed, expression indifferent as he brushed the dust off his robes.

The guards stationed at the gate had all fled far away. Two of them, who’d had their poles taken away, stammered toward Si Kuanglan, “They forced their way at us, sir, it’s not our fault! Please don’t blame us!”

Tao Yao suppressed a laugh and skipped happily over to Si Kuanglan’s side. “Ooh, Second Young Master, are you alright?”

“If I’d taken a blow to the head, you’d be even happier, wouldn’t you?” Si Kuanglan said, smiling at her.

“What a thing to say. If Second Young Master lost even a single hair, I’d be devastated—after all, I still need you to keep feeding me,” Tao Yao said, gesturing at the men on the ground. “It’s them who decided you’d come to steal their business, what’s that got to do with me?”

Just then, Madam Xiao, who’d come back at the sound of the commotion, was stunned by the scene before her. “This… what happened here? Second Young Master, did you fight with the three masters?”

“They fought with me,” Si Kuanglan corrected her.

“Masters, what happened?” Madam Xiao, seeing the three of them struggling even to get up, quickly called the guards over to help them to their feet.

“Does Madam not trust our brothers’ abilities anymore? Is that why you sent for someone else?” the eldest, clutching his back, said indignantly.

“That’s not it at all, Master, please don’t be upset. How could I not trust your abilities—it’s only that seeing you perform rituals in the household for so many days, exhausting yourselves so, I worried that in case something went wrong, so I invited the second young master here as well, thinking more people would mean more strength.” Madam Xiao’s temper truly was remarkably good—she seemed unwilling to offend anyone, even a group of utterly useless men.

“What second young master? Old Master Xiao’s trouble is no ordinary matter to resolve. Madam, don’t let a moment of desperation lead you astray.” The second, blinking with his blackened eye, pointed at Si Kuanglan. “Madam, don’t let this smooth-talking, slick-haired boy fool you!”

Tao Yao finally burst out laughing—so what if she got scolded, as long as she didn’t get hit. Smooth-talking, slick-haired, hahaha.

Si Kuanglan shook his head, not bothering to argue with him at all.

“Masters, please calm yourselves.” Madam Xiao said helplessly. “This is the Si household’s second young master. Surely he wouldn’t stoop to fraud.”

The three froze for a moment, then blurted out, “The Si household? The Si household of Qingmeng River?”

“That’s right,” Madam Xiao said. “You gentlemen and the second young master seem to have some kind of misunderstanding.”

Their faces changed. They looked Si Kuanglan over once more, lowered their heads and muttered among themselves for a good while, and then the eldest, stiffening his neck as if to salvage what pride he had left, said loudly, “Since Madam has already found someone more capable, we three brothers have no reason to stay. Our Dragon Tiger Sect’s practice above all cannot tolerate outside interference—our involvement ends here. As for payment, the ten bars of gold already received will not be refunded. Farewell!” With that, he glanced somewhat guiltily at Si Kuanglan and, steeling himself, cupped his hands in a bow. “Today’s meeting has proven the Si household’s Little King of Hell lives up to his reputation. Our Dragon Tiger Sect will remember this. Until we meet again!”

With that, ignoring their aches and pains, the three of them fled as fast as their legs could carry them, paying no heed to Madam Xiao’s calls to stay behind.

Watching the three vanish in an instant, Madam Xiao sighed. “And just a moment ago they were fine…”

“Isn’t this better now, Madam saved ten bars of gold!” Tao Yao stuck her tongue out at her.

“But without their rituals protecting him, I fear my husband might…” Madam Xiao still looked worried.

“What they need to protect first is themselves,” Si Kuanglan said, glancing at the sky. “Madam, you’d best hurry and get that account written up as I asked.”

Seeing there was nothing more to say, Madam Xiao nodded and left.

Watching Madam Xiao leave, Tao Yao pointed into the courtyard and said to Si Kuanglan, “Actually, they weren’t complete frauds, you know—they did have some real cultivation, even if they got the source of the problem entirely wrong. The talismans they burned really do ward off wandering spirits and evil influences.”

“Which only confirms it further—whatever ‘ghost’ Old Master Xiao and his wife saw is something else entirely.” Si Kuanglan glanced at her. “They were chanting away in perfectly good faith, and yet you had to go and ruin their livelihood.”

“I was just making good use of people too,” Tao Yao said, grinning to show her teeth.

Si Kuanglan turned his face away. “Next time you want to borrow someone else’s blade to do your killing, find someone with better skills.”

“Will do,” Tao Yao said breezily, then added, “If these three were truly of the righteous path, how could they abandon a matter of life and death for a mere ten bars of gold and get into a brawl over it? You get what you pay for—ten bars of gold was already more than generous for them. But what exactly is the origin of this Dragon Tiger Sect?”

“Their origin doesn’t matter,” Si Kuanglan said, looking at the trouble-ridden courtyard. “What matters is that the martial world now has one more sect holding a grudge against me, thanks to you.”

“No worries, maybe one day they’ll turn that hatred into love,” Tao Yao said with a straight face.

“Bringing you along might really have cost more than it was worth.”

“It’s small investment, big return, more like it!”

The snow had stopped at some point, sunlight faintly breaking through the clouds, illuminating clearly the two expressions, sharp as needles pointed at each other.

6

In the afternoon sun, much of the snow covering the grave had already melted. A few wild birds flew past, found nothing to eat, and chirped off again.

Before the grave, Tao Yao studied the name carved on the tombstone. “Feng… Bayue?”

Si Kuanglan said, “The most famous brewer of his day, known as the Wine God, Feng Bayue. In his life he took on two disciples, one of whom was Xiao Yuanxin. That Xiao Yuanxin became the Old Master Xiao he is today owed largely to Feng Bayue’s careful teaching.” He looked around, then continued, “Feng Bayue cared little for fame or fortune in his life, loved to travel and see the world, and settled in his later years at Cloud Beyond Valley in the southern outskirts of the capital.”

Tao Yao followed his gaze and saw a simple bamboo cottage not far off, a courtyard enclosed by bamboo fencing, paved with bluestone and rich with flowers and trees. Though it was the barren depths of winter, there was no sense of desolation about it. Above the courtyard gate hung a wooden plaque, casually inscribed with the three characters “Cloud Beyond Valley.”

Feng Bayue must have truly loved his home, to want to gaze upon it even in death.

She rather liked the look of such a house herself—only it was a bit too quiet around here. Living somewhere like this for long would surely get boring.

Si Kuanglan searched the area around the grave once more, found nothing unusual, and walked straight toward Cloud Beyond Valley.

“Madam Xiao said they came here to pay respects to Old Master Xiao’s master. This is the place?” Tao Yao caught up with him. “Are we going to visit every location on that list she wrote out for us?”

“Once, I spent an entire month doing exactly this,” Si Kuanglan said flatly. “However great the trouble, it always starts with a person. The places he’s been, the things he’s done, the words he’s said, the people he’s met—the cause is always hidden somewhere in there.”

Tao Yao smiled. “And here I thought the mighty Second Young Master Si had some incredible treasure that let him see straight through to the root of a problem. Turns out it’s this ordinary, even somewhat clumsy method.”

“Ten years ago, Xiao Yuanxin’s only son died of illness,” Si Kuanglan said, without arguing the point. “He and his primary wife had no children together for many years—the son was born of a concubine. Not long after the young son’s death, his second wife, overwhelmed by grief, hanged herself. Xiao Yuanxin never remarried after that, and has remained with his primary wife to this day.”

Tao Yao scratched her head. “That’s not something Madam Xiao wrote for you, is it?”

Si Kuanglan smiled. “Knowing the trouble is how you resolve the trouble. Reading widely helps, and listening to market gossip has its uses too. The more you remember, the more useful it becomes.”

What did that mean? Did he, besides reading, also often go sit on some little stool in the streets and alleys listening to gossip? Wasn’t that supposed to be something only Tao Yao herself would do… or was he deliberately being cryptic, hiding some secret method of gathering the information he wanted?

“You wouldn’t happen to have planted ears and eyes everywhere to collect information for you, would you?” she asked him—a man who rivaled a “guardian tower” in stillness, how did he even have time to wander around gathering gossip?

Si Kuanglan didn’t answer, only saying, “This morning as we entered the Xiao residence, five servants let a look of gloating cross their faces. Little Fu, the boy attending Madam Xiao, nearly stumbled four times while walking, as though half-asleep and unsteady on his feet. When mentioning the ‘female ghost,’ Madam Xiao’s eyes darted away three times, hardly like someone with no idea of its origin. The guards stationed at the courtyard gate didn’t seem to like wearing red at all—I heard two of them privately complaining that if it really was the second wife who’d come, she’d always loved red in life, and if this warding-off-evil red they’d been told to wear by the so-called masters didn’t actually ward off evil, but instead angered her further, what would they do then?”

Hearing this, Tao Yao clicked her tongue. “You noticed all that…”

“And you noticed only what was in the kitchen.” Si Kuanglan smiled.

“No need to look, I can smell it and know already.” Tao Yao lifted her chin proudly, but not bothering to argue with him further, she said, “Going by what you say, things have gotten this bad, and yet Madam Xiao still hasn’t said a single word about the second wife—that’s quite suspicious.”

“Perhaps she has her reasons,” Si Kuanglan said. “Or perhaps she has her schemes.”

Tao Yao fell silent for a moment, then said, “Old Master Xiao’s condition, this is a face eaten away by demonic energy. This demon must be somewhere very close to him. If it were too far away, the suffering he’s enduring wouldn’t be nearly this severe.”

“Do you have a lead?” Si Kuanglan asked.

“Not certain yet.” Tao Yao continued, “Earlier I wandered around inside and outside the side courtyard, but found no trace of this demon. All I know is that it holds a deep grudge against Old Master Xiao.”

“How so?”

“Old Master Xiao has the mark of three lines in his eyes,” Tao Yao said, frowning. “When three straight blood lines appear at the bottom of a mortal’s eyes, it means what’s afflicting him isn’t just demonic energy, but a demon’s ‘death curse’—a curse a demon casts even at the cost of its own life, to leave permanent damage on someone. Once those three blood lines run through the full length of the eye, the demon is bound to die, and Old Master Xiao—even I, or gods far more powerful than me, would be unable to restore him to how he was.”

Si Kuanglan frowned. “Trading its own life…”

“Exactly, which means the grudge between them must run deep, for a demon to give up its own life just to turn Old Master Xiao into a monster like this. It won’t kill him outright, but if he must live the rest of his life with a face like that, isn’t that worse than death?” Tao Yao’s frown deepened further. “It’s been a long time since I’ve come across a demon like this.”

“Kill it?” He glanced at her—in all the time they’d spent together, he’d rarely seen her frown so deeply.

“Find it first, then decide.”

The two of them stopped before the gate of Cloud Beyond Valley, and Si Kuanglan pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Though the cottage had stood empty for many years, it was clear someone had still been tending to it—both inside and out were kept remarkably clean, even down to the tables and stools, all arranged neatly. The courtyard held a rich variety of flowers and trees, evidence that Feng Bayue had loved not just wine, but plants as well.

The two of them searched thoroughly, inside and out, and found nothing.

“Nothing amiss.” Tao Yao, her legs aching, sat down at the stone table in the courtyard. “I’m going to rest a bit. Haven’t even had lunch yet, I’m exhausted.”

Si Kuanglan sat across from her and, as if by magic, produced an oil-paper packet and tossed it to her.

Tao Yao opened it—a fragrant sesame cake, and she was thrilled. She took an immediate bite and, chewing, said, “You actually carry cakes with you!”

“Just took it off old Feng’s grave.”

Tao Yao spat out the mouthful she hadn’t yet swallowed. “You!!!”

“Bought it at the market, actually.” Si Kuanglan smiled. “There’s no food on old Feng’s grave, your judgment’s really rather poor.”

If she hadn’t hated to waste food, she’d have thrown the rest of the cake right at his face.

“Eat slowly, no rush.” Si Kuanglan stood and walked off to examine the flowers and plants, as though nothing had happened.

Tao Yao swallowed the last bite and hopped over next to him, saying loudly, “Why do you always have to make me angry? Do you dislike me that much? Can’t you be a little kinder to me, like Steward Miao is?”

Si Kuanglan looked at her with distaste, at the crumbs she’d sprayed onto him. “Could you not talk while you’re still eating?”

“No, I couldn’t!” Tao Yao said indignantly, ready to keep scolding him, but suddenly she froze, and shut her mouth in an instant.

A moment later, hearing no more scolding, Si Kuanglan realized something was off and turned to look at her—only to find her standing there stiff as stone, leaning to one side with her head tilted, in a strange posture.

“What’s with you…”

“Shh!” Tao Yao quickly clapped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t speak! And especially don’t ask any questions!” And yet, deliberately, she asked loudly, “Second Young Master, do you think I’m pretty or not?”

An utterly bizarre question. Si Kuanglan frowned, letting her greasy hand rest over his mouth, wondering if this girl was up to some new scheme of revenge against him.

The air seemed to freeze. Aside from the occasional gust of wind, the small courtyard held only the faint sound of their breathing.

Hee hee!

Someone was laughing.

The two exchanged a glance, silently asking each other with their eyes: did you hear that too?

Tao Yao lowered the hand covering his mouth, gestured for him to stay silent, then raised her voice again to ask, “Second Young Master, what should we do? Where can we go to catch this demon?” The moment she finished, she fell silent, waiting.

Hee hee!

Another light laugh, a woman’s voice.

The two of them heard it clearly.

From Feng Bayue’s grave to here, they hadn’t seen another soul along the way. Inside and outside the small courtyard, there was no one but the two of them—where could a third person’s voice come from?

Si Kuanglan and Tao Yao located the source of the laughter at the same moment, both stepping left in unison, their gazes landing on a large pot of gardenia bushes with nothing but green leaves. Deep winter though it was, with no flowers in bloom, the leaves on the branches remained fresh and glossy green.

Si Kuanglan silently pointed at the unremarkable plant, and Tao Yao nodded in understanding.

The two of them circled the gardenia, and finally, among the overlapping leaves, discovered a small, inconspicuous flower—entirely deep green, nearly the same color as the gardenia leaves themselves. It had five petals, no bigger than a quail’s egg. But most remarkable of all, at the center of the petals grew a fully formed human face, small but with clear, distinct features—that of a delicate, fine-browed woman.

Looking closer still, this flower hung entirely from a stem thinner than a strand of silk, its roots buried in the soil, supported by the gardenia branch, with a thick canopy of gardenia leaves shielding it. If one didn’t go looking deliberately, it would be very difficult for an ordinary person to ever notice it.

Tao Yao glanced at Si Kuanglan, smiled, leaned in close to the flower, and asked loudly again, “Is Second Young Master especially good at making people hate him?”

Hee hee!

The face on the flower actually opened its mouth and laughed.

Si Kuanglan was rather astonished. He had witnessed countless strange and wondrous things in his time, but a flower bearing a human face that could laugh—this was a first.

Tao Yao smiled, her mind now made up.

She pulled Si Kuanglan far enough away from the flower and asked quietly, “After Old Master Xiao and his wife paid their respects, did they stop by Cloud Beyond Valley?”

Si Kuanglan said, “By the time the respects were finished, it was already afternoon. Old Master Xiao and his wife brought their attendants and rested at Cloud Beyond Valley for about an hour. Madam Xiao even had the attendants do a quick cleaning of the place. Old Master Xiao sat the whole time at the stone table in the courtyard drinking tea, never even entering the house.”

“Who all entered Cloud Beyond Valley that day?”

“Old Master Xiao and his wife, two guards, Hu Daniu and Zhang Sheng, Madam Xiao’s personal maid A’Lan, the attendant boy Little Fu, and the steward, Old Xu.” Si Kuanglan answered without a single hesitation, not even needing to consult the list Madam Xiao had written for him.

“Seven people…” Tao Yao mused, murmuring to herself. “Given its power, if it wanted to move freely, it likely couldn’t rely on just any of them… hmm, it should be that one.”

Once she’d finished muttering, Si Kuanglan asked, “You have a lead?”

Tao Yao glared at him. “You’ve made me angry so many times, and this is finally the one time it’s proven useful.”

“How so?” Si Kuanglan glanced toward the flower—no sound came from it now, as though it too had gone quiet, hearing nothing more of their conversation.

“West of Mount Huo there’s a valley where a human-face flower is often seen among the leaves. It blooms with five petals, all bearing women’s faces, unable to speak, but laughing when asked a question. It blooms once every ten years. A minor demon, harmless.” Tao Yao looked back toward the flower as well. “That’s a human-face demon. When it blooms, hearing someone ask a question makes it laugh. I don’t know what’s so funny about it, but that’s simply how this kind of minor demon behaves. Their demonic power is weak and they’re utterly unremarkable—if you hadn’t made me angry enough to ask you three questions in a row, I might never have noticed it was there.”

“Human-face?” Si Kuanglan frowned. “If what you say is true, this demon should be harmless.”

“Even a rabbit will bite when cornered,” Tao Yao shot back, and walked back over to the flowerpot, bending down to examine the demon closely. She reached out and gently touched its forehead with a fingertip, thought for a moment, then turned and headed toward the courtyard gate. “Let’s go back.”

“Not going to do anything about it?” Si Kuanglan hadn’t moved. “I thought you’d be taking this troublemaking little demon into custody.”

Tao Yao turned back. “That human-face flower is nothing but an empty shell now. That foolish laughter is all instinct left in it.”

Si Kuanglan raised an eyebrow. “Ill?”

“Something like that,” Tao Yao said with a smile. “Does Second Young Master remember when the eldest young master was first carried back, and I said there was an invisible hollow between his brows that ordinary people couldn’t see?”

“You said a body without its soul develops such a hollow.” Si Kuanglan remembered, of course.

“This is the same.” Tao Yao said with certainty. “A trivial little demon like a human-face, unless it’s especially gifted or highly cultivated, most of them go their entire lives never able to take human form. All their lives, they can only live among the branches and leaves. On ordinary days, if it wants to venture out, it can rely at most on the most basic technique of soul separation, wandering no further than seven zhang from its true body. If it wants to travel any real distance, it can only do so once every ten years, during its blooming period, when its own demonic power is at its strongest—by possessing another living creature to leave this place. If it doesn’t return within fourteen days, its soul turns to ash, its body withers—effectively, suicide.”

“It can only leave by possessing another living creature?” Si Kuanglan looked slightly startled. “Then of the seven people who came to Cloud Beyond Valley that day…”

“The human-face must be inside one of them,” Tao Yao said, her expression turning as cold as the winter sky. “This demon, it seems, cannot be cured.”

End

Si Kuanglan considered for a moment, and instead of heading for the main gate, turned and went back into the cottage.

The furnishings were just furnishings—table, chairs, benches, ink paintings hung on the walls, a large rattan cabinet holding wine gourds and cups of various sizes and colors, with a stack of books scattered casually beside it.

Si Kuanglan casually pulled out a bundle of notebooks and flipped open the yellowed cover, finding nothing more than records related to brewing—when a batch was sealed, when it was opened, which spring or river the water came from, what raw materials were used, all meticulously recorded within. Nothing unusual. But looking at the handwriting, it seemed to have been completed by two different people—one hurried, one neat.

He pulled out another stack of papers beneath the notebooks and found something resembling exam papers—certainly questions Old Feng himself had set, nothing more than techniques related to brewing. The answers, too, were written by two people, their names still clearly legible—one was Xiao Yuanxin, the other Fang Heyu.

“Fang Heyu…” Si Kuanglan looked at the name. “Both of them were old Feng’s star disciples. Xiao Yuanxin went on to boundless glory, while the other vanished without a trace.”

Tao Yao popped up from behind him, staring at the name on the paper. “Fang Heyu? Old Feng’s other disciple?”

“Mm.” Si Kuanglan carefully put the papers away, closed the cabinet, and suddenly said, “Xiao Yuanxin is a skilled businessman, but unfortunately, as a person, he’s driven purely by profit, no man of good character.” He turned to look out the window at the gardenia. “Whether he’s the victim of someone else’s scheme, or has brought this calamity on himself, remains to be seen.”

“That’s exactly why we need Second Young Master to resolve the trouble.” Tao Yao smiled. Judging by his tone, it seemed he wasn’t exactly on Old Master Xiao’s side—probably still holding a grudge over that childhood matter of the wine.

Si Kuanglan turned back and looked at her, his gaze like someone studying some strange specimen, saying nothing for a long moment.

Tao Yao grew uneasy under his stare, unconsciously wiping at her mouth and nose. “What are you looking at me for? My face isn’t dirty!”

“This time, I’ll need your help.” Si Kuanglan suddenly spoke, holding up three fingers. “Resolve this matter successfully, and I’ll reward you with three months’ wages.”

Had she heard that right? The second young master was actually asking her for help himself?! And offering payment too!!

Tao Yao quickly rubbed her ears. “What did you say, it’s too cold, I didn’t hear you clearly!”

Si Kuanglan looked at her expressionlessly and didn’t repeat a single word.

“Fine, fine, three months’ wages it is!” Tao Yao held out her little finger. “Pinky promise! Whoever breaks it goes bald!”

Si Kuanglan hesitated for a moment, but still held out his finger.

Fortunately there was no one around in this deserted place. If anyone had seen the great Second Young Master Si linking pinky fingers with some scrappy girl… he didn’t dare think further. Just imagining what Si Jingyuan, Steward Miao, and Young Master Liu and the rest might say, the eyes they’d roll, the nonsense they’d spout, was enough to make the whole world unbearable.

“Let’s head back.” Si Kuanglan promptly withdrew his hand.

“Got it!”

Promise secured, Tao Yao happily skipped out the door, already calculating on the way just how much three months’ wages added up to.

Watching that bored yet manic figure, Si Kuanglan quietly let a warm smile slip across his face.

Keeping her around wasn’t so bad after all.

Sunlight crept in through the window, falling across his face, which now, unexpectedly, carried a look of anticipation.