Upon receiving He Cai’s urgent message, Chu Dingjiang had done everything possible to complete his affairs early. On his return journey, he chanced upon Liao cavalry secretively concealing something. He had quietly followed them to this place. Fortunately, he had made an exceptionally wise decision! Fortunately, he had appeared before her in time.
Chu Dingjiang had always believed his feelings for An Jiu were a kind of dependent companionship born of shared suffering, a man’s natural possessiveness towards a woman. However, just now, seeing her gradually engulfed by the blue light, he felt a despair he had never experienced before.
As he rushed towards her, he wasn’t at all certain his abilities would allow him to rescue her calmly from such a perilous situation. At that moment, his mind, which had concocted countless schemes and plots, was utterly blank.
Reflecting on it now, it seemed quite incredible.
Chu Dingjiang ran his hand down An Jiu’s shoulder, hooking his little finger with hers, then grasping her blood-stained hand.
An Jiu awkwardly tried to shake him off.
Chu Dingjiang smiled, tightening his grip. “I finished my business early. I can stay here with you for two months. By then, you should be recalled as well.”
An Jiu was quiet for a moment, then said discontentedly, “Let go.”
Ignoring this small discomfort, Chu Dingjiang considered her lack of violent resistance as acceptance. “Ajiu, have you missed me during our separation?”
Feeling the warmth from his palm, An Jiu sighed comfortably and replied carelessly, “Why would I miss you?”
“Not even for a moment?” Chu Dingjiang couldn’t accept this. He had never invested any emotional energy in women before. Now, his first time giving his heart, he was met with such thorough coldness. Surely not…
“I did,” An Jiu said. “Mo Sigui raised two tiger cubs. Once, when I peeled pine nuts for them to eat, they were quite disdainful. Then I thought, if Chu Dingjiang were here, these pine nuts, full of my labor, wouldn’t go to waste.”
Food disdained by tigers was only fit for him?
Bearing this blow, Chu Dingjiang persisted, “Besides that time?”
“There was another time,” An Jiu replied without hesitation. “The two tiger cubs only eat meat, but I don’t know how to roast it. At that time, I thought if Chu Dingjiang were here, he could roast meat for them. I could eat some too.”
“…”
After pondering for a while, Chu Dingjiang managed to praise her, “You’re very honest. That’s good.”
A glimmer of mirth appeared in An Jiu’s eyes as she said happily, “I think so too. My mental state is becoming increasingly normal.”
“Mm.”
She did seem more lively, but Chu Dingjiang felt something was off. Do normal people speak and act like her?
“I also chatted a lot with that supervising secretary,” An Jiu continued, omitting Zhao Ling’s reactions. “I used to struggle with communication and was wary of strangers, but now I find it’s not so difficult. Familiarity breeds expertise – I’ve diagnosed myself. I’m recovering.”
Chu Dingjiang smiled, “Is ‘familiarity breeds expertise’ really appropriate for a patient like you?”
“Oh, physical illnesses and mental illnesses are quite different,” An Jiu said, unusually receptive to his correction of her word choice.
Chu Dingjiang sighed and corrected her again, “It’s ‘body’, not ‘physical’.”
Considering herself normal now, An Jiu thought normal people should be willing to question themselves. So she humbly asked, “What’s the difference between ‘physical’ and ‘body’?”
“Well…” Chu Dingjiang pondered, “There’s no essential difference, it just doesn’t sound as good.”
“Physical, physical, physical,” An Jiu repeated several times, looking up at him. “How does it not sound good?”
Gazing into her sparkling eyes, Chu Dingjiang’s heart skipped a beat. She was indeed different from before, but this change wasn’t like her abnormal state during episodes. Her willingness to open up to him was a good thing. Perhaps, as she said, her condition had improved.
“If you think it sounds good, then it’s fine,” Chu Dingjiang said, not bothering to argue over such trifles. Why should he, a deep-thinking “old man,” quibble with a not-quite-right young girl?
Chu Dingjiang’s sudden appearance had not only moved An Jiu initially but also filled her with indescribable joy.
As a seasoned mental patient, An Jiu’s emotional responses were quite proper. When depressed or agitated, she possessed a terrifying destructive power. On the rare occasions, she was happy, it was as if she’d been injected with adrenaline. Though she didn’t act wild, her shining eyes and flushed cheeks from excitement made it seem as if Mo Sigui had given her some strange medicine.
If An Jiu were to describe her current feelings, she’d say it was like having ten thousand Liao cavalry galloping back and forth in her heart.
“Ajiu, if you want to laugh, laugh. If you want to cry, cry. Holding it in isn’t good for your condition,” Chu Dingjiang said, suppressing a smile.
Hearing this, An Jiu restrained herself for a moment before gradually letting go.
In the days that followed, Chu Dingjiang deeply regretted saying those words.
On the first night, Hejian Prefecture was filled with the uncontrollable laughter of a female ghost, so loud that all residents could hear her laughing to the point of hysteria. On the second night, in a small forest outside the city, people heard a female ghost chopping trees all night; by morning, the forest was in shambles. The third night was quiet, but someone claimed to have seen a dark shadow darting around the city all night, starting to crow like a rooster before dawn. On the fourth night, the largest winery in Hejian was visited by the female ghost; it was said she sat in the cellar drinking, singing, and crying…
On the fifth day, the city’s residents began organizing ghost-hunting parties. Chu Dingjiang searched the entire city, finally finding her by a stream. She was holding a wine jar in one hand and a tree branch in the other, singing, “Bang bang, he shot me down. Bang bang, I hit the ground. Bang bang…”
Chu Dingjiang couldn’t understand the words but saw her pointing the branch at him, shouting “Bang bang, bang bang.”
With Chu Dingjiang’s protection, Hejian’s ghost-hunting efforts inevitably failed.
The next day, they considered seeking help from Buddhist and Taoist masters to exorcise the ghost.
While the entire Hejian Prefecture was in a state of panic, the “female ghost” was now perched on a tree outside the Supervising Secretary’s office, her face cold and serious, as if nothing in the world could shake her emotions.
Except for Li Qingzhi, who was recovering from severe injuries, the other shadow guards occasionally cast strange glances at her.
“My lord, Mei Shisi…” Gao Dazhuang suspected that her mind had been damaged during the recent Liao army attack.
“It’s nothing,” Chu Dingjiang said.
An Jiu was deep in thought. After venting, she immediately inquired about the battle’s outcome.
As Chu Dingjiang had said, six days ago, Ling Ziyue had dealt a crushing defeat to ten thousand Liao cavalry. This news boosted morale, and the victory report had already been sent to Bianjing by fast horse. It was the most impressive battle in recent years. Although the Song army had also lost nearly ten thousand men, destroying such a large number of Liao’s prized cavalry was immensely significant.