Even Qing Xuzi himself was now caught in a state of hesitation — uncertain whether to press forward or to retreat. True, the three of them between them were all versed in the arts, and Lin Xiao was no ordinary man either; the four of them together could handle a typical malevolent entity without great difficulty. But as the saying goes, know yourself and know your enemy, and you will win every battle. Since they had entered the river, they had formed no clear picture of whatever lurked within it, and had been driven on purely by a determination to get to the bottom of things. If what lay within the coffin was far more formidable than they had imagined — might they all perish here?

As he was still weighing possible courses of action, a light sound came from the coffin lid. Something was rustling and stirring out from inside.

Everyone’s hair stood on end. Qing Xuzi made an immediate decision. “Form the formation at once!” he ordered in a sharp, low voice.

The three of them each produced their respective implements and took up the Three Yang Formation — braced for the worst, afraid of what might emerge.

Yet after holding their breath in tense silence for a long while, all that appeared was something leaping down from the coffin lid, squeaking noisily as it scurried off and disappeared along the base of the wall.

It was a rat.

Qing Xuzi stood there for a blank moment, then understood. If a genuine evil entity had truly been inside the coffin, it would never have permitted something as vibrantly alive as a rat to share its quarters.

Lin Xiao, too, grasped the logic. He strode without further hesitation to the jade platform, slowly looked to the left and right, ascended the steps, and pulled the Chixiao free from the coffin wood.

With the Chixiao now in hand, he used the light of the eternal lamp to peer into the open coffin. Inside, it was entirely filled with scrolls of scripture. The walls of the coffin too were written all over in vermilion Sanskrit characters. But the coffin itself was empty — there was no body.

Qing Xuzi and the others made their way up to the platform and took in the sight of the coffin’s interior. After a moment’s stunned pause, Qing Xuzi picked up one of the scripture scrolls and examined it carefully by the lamplight. Unfortunately, the text on the scrolls was entirely in Sanskrit, and its meaning could not be determined.

After examining this coffin, Qing Xuzi turned to look at the other one. It was noticeably taller and longer than the first. Placed side by side, the two bore a slight resemblance to a husband and wife buried together.

Qing Xuzi felt his way along it, found that the lid was only resting loosely on top and had not been sealed fast as he’d initially assumed. He hesitated briefly, then said to A’Han and Lin Xiao: “Come — help me open this one.”

Lin Xiao agreed. He handed the Chixiao to Qin Yao. Together, the three of them applied their combined strength and slowly slid the coffin lid aside.

They looked inside. This coffin was even more bare than the first — not only was there no body, but there were no scripture scrolls either, nor any Sanskrit text upon the walls. Only upon the underside of the lid could faint scratch marks be seen, as though something had clawed and raked at it.

Qing Xuzi looked with close attention, and suddenly recalled something he had heard from Yuan Jue in his younger years — a strange tale from the Buddhist world. A powerful unease rose in his chest. He could no longer stand still. He gathered up all the scripture scrolls from inside the coffin, removed his Daoist robe and wrapped them securely inside, instructed A’Han to carry them, descended the stone steps, and walked toward the exit. “This evil entity has already broken through the formation and departed,” he said as he went. “It is certainly not within this cave at present. I must go tonight and find Yuan Jue to get a clear account of things.”

A’Han followed at once.

Qin Yao and Lin Xiao exchanged a glance, both puzzled. There had clearly been two coffins — so why had Master spoken of only this evil entity, as though there were only one?

The four of them swam back along the route they had come, and the moment they broke the surface, they saw that night had already fully descended. The inky velvet sky overhead was scattered with stars, while the moon hid behind dark clouds.

Chang Rong and the others had maintained exactly the positions they had held when Lin Xiao’s group went below, faces taut with anxiety as they stared fixedly at the water. The moment they saw Lin Xiao emerge safely, they let out a collective breath of profound relief.

Lin Xiao first helped Qin Yao up onto the bank, then pulled himself out after her. Though none of them had come to harm, they had spent a considerable time underwater, and were all somewhat worn.

Seeing Qin Yao soaked through, Lin Xiao feared she would catch a chill. He directed Chang Rong to quickly retrieve a cloak from the carriage and draped it around Qin Yao’s shoulders.

Qin Yao cast a swift glance at Qing Xuzi, and saw, as expected, that Master’s expression had gone dark.

Qing Xuzi had been on the verge of ordering Qin Yao to return the cloak to Lin Xiao — but on second thought, his own Daoist robe was already wrapped around the scriptures, and though A’Han was her senior brother, it would not be appropriate for her to wear his clothing either, especially with a group of young men standing right there. He could hardly ask Qin Yao to stride about in her soaked clothing in front of all these people.

When he had considered it from every angle, this was clearly the only practicable solution. So he shut his mouth in frustration, though his mood remained distinctly ill.

Qin Yao drooped her ears and did not dare look at her Master, terrified that he would scold her when they returned home. But between being scolded by her Master and walking about soaked through while everyone stared, she far preferred the former.

She shuffled off toward where the carriages were waiting. Without being told, she bypassed Prince Lan’s fine horses and climbed instead into the Qingyun Observatory’s carriage.

Lin Xiao understood perfectly well the reason for this, and took no offense. He still instructed Wei Bo to drive the carriage, while he and Chang Rong and the others continued at an unhurried pace alongside Qin Yao’s carriage.

On the road, Qing Xuzi was too preoccupied to bother lecturing Qin Yao. He held the scripture scrolls in his hands and studied them with intense concentration. Seeing his grave expression, Qin Yao couldn’t help asking: “Master, there were clearly two coffins back in the underground palace — so why did you say there was only one great evil entity?”

Qing Xuzi glanced at her, then finally spoke after a long pause: “I only recalled a strange tale I heard in my younger years, and formed a theory — but it is only a guess, and could be wrong. I need to question that bald monk Yuan Jue before I can say anything definitive.”

“Ah.” Qin Yao felt a trace of disappointment, then pressed on: “The implements and Sanskrit inscriptions used to suppress that evil entity in the river were all objects of the Buddhist faith, and they appeared to be several hundred years old at least. I wonder what the origins of this evil entity truly are — and why it would have broken free from the formation at all.”

“Indeed.” A’Han, rarely inclined to offer his own thoughts, ventured to weigh in this time. “That formation was so thoroughly constructed — it had stood for hundreds of years without falling. How could the stone stele have simply cracked on its own?”

Qing Xuzi’s brow furrowed deeply, and only after a long silence did he speak: “Either it was done deliberately by human hands, or it was a sign of some anomaly in the heavens — of encroaching darkness and growing evil forces, heralding a calamity for all living beings in this world. Enough. Let us find Yuan Jue first and get a clear understanding of the matter, then discuss how to deal with this thing.”

Entering Chang’an proper, the Qingyun Observatory’s carriage proceeded directly to Dayin Temple.

A’Han and Qin Yao both moved to follow and get out of the carriage, but Qing Xuzi waved them back: “I’ll go in alone. A’Han, take your junior sister back to the Qu residence, then come back for your Master.” With these words, he gave A’Han a meaningful and pointed look, impressing upon him the importance of keeping a close watch over his junior sister, with absolutely no room for error.

A’Han was left rather confused, and after a long moment, hesitantly agreed.

Qin Yao dearly wanted to go in as well. She pestered Qing Xuzi for a while longer, but he refused to relent no matter how she pressed, and in the end she had no choice but to go with A’Han.

Back at the Qu residence, the moment she stepped down from the carriage, she found that Lin Xiao had already ridden ahead and was waiting for her at the front of the carriage. When he saw her descend, he too swung down from his horse and walked to stand before her.

A’Han paused, uncertain whether to descend himself. After a moment’s consideration, he decided that the Young Lord was a man of such upright character that he would surely not mistreat A’Yao simply by exchanging a few words with her. Master had always been the suspicious sort, trusting no one. So A’Han stayed where he was and did not get out of the carriage.

Qin Yao’s clothing had been dried by the summer heat during the journey and no longer clung to her. She removed the cloak and returned it to Lin Xiao. “I didn’t see you on the road,” she said, “and thought you had already gone back to your residence.”

Lin Xiao looked down at her with a smile. “I had to see you safely home before I could be at ease.”

Qin Yao felt his gaze growing bold and unhurried again, and quickly turned her face slightly aside, her cheeks going pink. “It’s getting late. You should head back and rest.”

Lin Xiao’s gaze fell on the hairpin in Qin Yao’s hair, and a wave of warmth moved through him. He said softly, coaxingly: “Let me look at you a little longer.”

Qin Yao allowed him to look, but when he remained silent for a long while, she glanced at him and said: “I should go in now. I’m afraid someone from the house will come out, and it wouldn’t do for us to be seen.”

The two of them were still standing there, facing each other with flushed cheeks, when a carriage suddenly swept past at speed. Someone inside had the curtain lifted and happened to be looking out. The moment they caught sight of Lin Xiao, they froze — then, gripping the window frame, stared for a long, disbelieving moment.

“That — that’s actually her!” the person breathed in astonishment.

Their expression turned ominous.

“What is it?” A man’s hand appeared at the curtain’s edge, steadying it as a head leaned out to look alongside her. The hand was exceptionally fair and slender — exquisitely formed, were it not for the fact that it had only four fingers, which lent it an unsettling, marred quality.

“Nothing. I mistook someone.” The woman hurriedly let the curtain fall and straightened in her seat. The man hesitated for a brief moment, then abandoned the thought of pressing further. Silence returned to the carriage’s interior.