The newcomer was Liu Xiulin, a renowned general of the Zhenhai Army. Like Lu Yan, he served as one of Teng Shao’s most trusted lieutenants. His word carried more weight than any official military dispatch.

When the soldiers outside the tent heard that General Teng was wounded, they were struck with dismay. Though Liu Xiulin appeared agitated, he secretly exchanged a meaningful glance with Lin Chengyou.

Lin Chengyou feigned surprise: “How did he suddenly fall victim to assassins? Is General Teng’s injury severe?”

“General Teng was ambushed while taking a shortcut through Qingfeng Valley outside Caizhou City, rushing to join forces with us. The valley was filled with strange practitioners in Peng Zhen’s employ. Those cultists used some kind of dark art, filling the entire valley with shadow soldiers. Fortunately, two senior disciples of Master Yuanjue came to our aid and helped us scatter the shadow army. But General Teng was still struck by a hidden weapon. The camp physician says the weapon was laced with a sinister poison. If we don’t find a way to treat it soon, it may reach his heart meridians. Young Master knows how to counter dark arts – please come with me immediately to save him.”

Without another word, Lin Chengyou ordered his horse brought forth. After mounting, he instructed his deputy commander Chen Wenxiong: “Continue leading the troops in the siege. I’ll personally go receive General Teng.”

By late night, Lin Chengyou’s party had still not returned.

Without their commander’s leadership, the Strategic Army’s assault lost its earlier ferocity. Though they managed to raise scaling ladders to the battlements, Peng Zhen had already prepared countermeasures along the walls. Before the attacking soldiers could reach the top, defenders thrust long spears through pre-drilled holes to push back the ladders. The spear tips were not only barbed but wrapped in blazing flames. Caught off guard, the soldiers had no choice but to hastily abandon the ladders.

Chen Wenxiong immediately dispatched a thousand elite infantry driving forty siege engines in an imposing assault on the city.

The siege engines were covered in thick layers of wet cowhide for protection against arrows and fire attacks, making them as formidable as mobile iron fortresses.

But Peng Zhen ordered his men to pour molten copper from the walls, instantly burning through the cowhide covering. The soldiers inside the engines, fearing being scalded alive, quickly withdrew from the walls.

After repeated setbacks, the Strategic Army experienced its first taste of true powerlessness.

The father-and-son Peng duo’s reputation for terrorizing the Central Plains was well-earned. The Peng family particularly excelled at defensive warfare compared to open-field battles. But the Imperial Court had only given the Strategic Army two months to suppress the rebellion, and tonight marked the deadline.

If they couldn’t break through, they would be forced into a prolonged siege.

A protracted campaign would severely damage the Imperial Army’s prestige. The neighboring East Shannan and Ziqing provinces already had connections to Peng Zhen. If the Strategic Army failed to make an example of this rebellion, those two regions might also grow contemptuous of Imperial authority. Only by easily crushing the Huaixi region could they smoothly bring both provinces’ military forces back under Imperial control.

The Strategic Army’s soldiers attacked again and again with unwavering determination, only to be repeatedly repelled. After numerous attempts, even the most valiant warriors grew frustrated and impatient. Seeing the situation deteriorating, Chen Wenxiong had no choice but to temporarily halt the siege, ordering the troops to return to camp to rest while awaiting Lin Chengyou’s return.

Atop Caizhou’s walls, countless eyes peered from behind the dark battlements, quietly observing the enemy camp below.

The earlier fire in the city’s armory had presented a perfect opportunity for attack, yet the Crown Prince of Cheng had abandoned his troops and galloped away. This suggested General Teng’s situation was truly dire.

Even more satisfying was how quickly the Strategic Army ceased their assault once their commander left, revealing that this seemingly mighty force was as fragile as scattered sand.

They waited patiently.

Late in the night, movement stirred outside the city again as dust clouds heralded the return of a cavalry unit. However, it numbered only four or five thousand, and their leader was not Lin Chengyou but Liu Xiulin, who had delivered the earlier message.

Liu Xiulin’s face was as dark as if covered in yellow ash. Upon arrival, he immediately berated them: “Why have you stopped attacking the city?”

Chen Wenxiong had been happily preparing to welcome reinforcements, but these words soured his mood. As a high-ranking Strategic Army commander, he wasn’t one of Liu’s Zhenhai soldiers – what right did Liu Xiulin have to shout at him? His greeting turned cold: “Where is the Young Master?”

“General Teng… we couldn’t save him. The Young Master is busy arranging the general’s funeral and sent me to lead part of the reinforcements in attacking the city.”

The soldiers were stunned by the devastating news of General Teng’s death.

Chen Wenxiong was shocked and grieved: “How could this happen? Even the Young Master couldn’t save General Teng?”

“We arrived too late.” Liu Xiulin’s bloodshot eyes glared at Caizhou City. “Tonight I swear to take Peng Zhen’s head. Why are you all standing around? Can’t you fight without a commander or reinforcements? Hurry up and join my assault!”

The Strategic Army soldiers grew irritated at Liu Xiulin’s repeated scolding: “General Liu, you have no authority to command the Strategic Army!”

Liu Xiulin kicked the speaker to the ground: “To hell with you! I was earning glory for the Empire while you were still sucking at your mother’s breast! If you’re too weak to fight, my Zhenhai Army will do it!”

Chaos erupted as soldiers hurled insults and others tried to break up the fighting.

The soldiers on Caizhou’s walls ran back to report to Peng Zhen.

“General, the Strategic Army, and Zhenhai reinforcements are fighting each other.”

But Peng Zhen showed no joy: “The Crown Prince of Cheng hasn’t returned?”

“No. The Crown Prince of Cheng declared he would take Caizhou tonight. He wouldn’t delay unless necessary. It seems General Teng has indeed perished.”

The strategists’ spirits lifted: “General’s calculations were brilliant – having the Wuji Sect practitioners ambush them en route was the perfect way to eliminate Teng Shao.”

“General, we should leave the city now while we have the chance. Once Lin Chengyou returns with the Zhenhai Army, escape will be much harder. You still command twenty thousand troops – if we withdraw early, we may yet have a chance to rebuild our forces. Staying trapped here is like a dragon in shallow waters – the Imperial Court will eventually drain us of strength.”

As the advisors strongly urged Peng Zhen to seize this opportunity to escape, a corpulent Daoist priest stood silently observing the heavens from the steps of the council hall.

Someone asked him: “Master Yin, what’s your advice?”

But Peng Zhen asked instead: “Who commands the Zhenhai reinforcements?”

“Liu Xiulin. He’s ranting below the walls about taking your head tonight, and he’s acting like a madman – started fighting with Chen Wenxiong and the others as soon as he arrived. It looks like the Zhenhai and Strategic armies will split apart.”

Peng Zhen’s face darkened: “Liu Xiulin has followed Teng Shao for years. He’s no brainless brute – no matter how grieved, he wouldn’t act like this. Most likely it’s a ruse to capture the city. Let’s wait and see what develops.”

Peng Zhen’s judgment proved accurate. Half an hour later, while the two armies’ loud arguments distracted the defenders, they secretly dispatched an elite unit to quietly set up scaling ladders on the western wall for a surprise attack.

But Peng Zhen had anticipated this – as soon as Liu Xiulin’s soldiers attempted to scale the walls, countless spears were thrust out from above to impale them. Before they could prove their might to the Strategic Army, the Zhenhai forces suffered the same heavy losses.

Chen Wenxiong, who had endured Liu Xiulin’s abuse all night, couldn’t resist some mockery. This enraged Liu Xiulin, who ordered his several thousand Zhenhai reinforcements to assault the west gate at full force and personally brawled with Chen Wenxiong again.

While chaos consumed both the south and west gates, Peng Zhen decisively ordered a withdrawal. Opening the north gate, they silently slipped out of the city, planning to follow a pre-arranged route northwest.

To avoid alerting enemy forces behind the city, the retreating army didn’t even light torches.

Fortunately, a lone star shone brightly enough to guide their way.

Though abandoning their city, Peng’s army maintained iron discipline.

Though facing defeat, Peng Zhen retained the dignity and bearing befitting a military governor.

As they withdrew in silence, countless torches suddenly blazed to life around them. Accompanied by a hail of arrows and thunderous war cries, soldiers poured forth from all directions like a tidal wave.

Caught completely off guard, many of Peng’s soldiers were struck by arrows and fell from their horses.

Leading the attack were none other than Teng Shao and Lin Chengyou.

A dark cloud passed over Peng Zhen’s face – all warfare is based on deception, and he had fallen for the young man’s trap. Lin Chengyou spurred his horse forward, his confident expression seeming to say, “I said I would take Caizhou before dawn, and I meant it.” His advisors paled in shock and hurried to escort Peng Zhen back toward the city.

“Close the gates!”

Lin Chengyou nocked an arrow and casually shot down a Daoist advisor beside Peng Zhen, shouting: “Generous rewards for whoever captures Peng Zhen alive!”

“Yes!” The cavalry’s response shook the heavens.

Earlier, to deceive the Strategic and Zhenhai armies, most of the city’s forces had concentrated at the west and south gates. The north gate had only a few dozen defenders. Before Peng Zhen’s group could reach safety, arrows rained down like a storm. The wall guards fell one after another, leaving no one to lower the drawbridge.

In the blink of an eye, the gate fell.

Soldiers on both sides erupted in celebration. After two months campaigning across Huaixi’s prefectures, suffering defeats and losses, the rebellion’s suppression was finally approaching its end with Caizhou’s capture.

Peng’s army began to collapse. The south gate quickly fell as Chen Wenxiong and Liu Xiulin successfully breached it and led their troops into the city.

Peng’s forces fought like cornered beasts, alternating between combat and retreat until they were pushed to the inner city’s edge.

The clash of weapons filled the air with heart-shaking din.

While Lu Yan and others focused on capturing Peng Zhen, Lin Chengyou dealt with the dark practitioners in the city.

Earlier, when the attackers had attempted to use fire, a sudden hailstorm had protected the city, revealing the presence of numerous sorcerers. If they summoned an army of shadow soldiers, they could massacre the entire city. Lin Chengyou rode with bow drawn, his arrows finding their marks with deadly accuracy, taking down one cultist after another.

After capturing the Daoists, Lin Chengyou joined Master Yuanjue’s two disciples in searching the city for ritual formations. Soon they discovered a Yin Sha Array hidden in a secluded corner. Such an array could summon terrifying evil spirits – for the citizens’ safety, Lin Chengyou and the two masters methodically destroyed each formation.

Under the storm-like assault, Peng’s remaining forces quickly scattered. Among Peng Zhen’s thousand-strong corps of death-sworn warriors, some fell in battle while others surrendered. In moments, Peng Zhen stood alone. Just as soldiers moved to bind him, Teng Shao and Lin Chengyou suddenly spurred their horses toward the north gate. Everyone believed Peng Zhen was trapped, but no one noticed a group taking advantage of the chaos to reach the north gate, led by a man in a felt hat. As they were about to escape, Teng Shao’s warhorse charged forward like lightning while Lin Chengyou’s silver chain flew like a shooting star toward the man’s feet.

When the chain tangled the felt-hatted man’s legs, Teng Shao’s horse cut off his path.

At that moment, the soldiers who had captured Peng Zhen cried out in surprise: “General, this one’s a fake!”

Teng Shao ordered the felt-hatted man’s face mask torn off, revealing the real Peng Zhen.

Lu Yan and others sighed in admiration: “Truly worthy of being Guanzhong’s finest – even with armies at the gates, he remained calm enough to lay such plans. General Peng’s resourcefulness was truly impossible to guard against.”

With his final disguise torn away, Peng Zhen had no choice but to surrender. Yet his mountain-like frame showed no fear as he coldly glared at Teng Shao: “No army is invincible. When I, Peng Zhen, first raised the banner of rebellion, I anticipated this day might come. Defeat is not frightening. Compared to a petty man like you, Teng Shao, at least I fought gloriously. Let me ask you this: Do you feel any shame? You and I each held our territories, not interfering with each other, yet you secretly coveted Huaixi. To curry favor, you voluntarily reported my alleged rebellion to the Imperial Court. Without that, how could the Court have suppressed me?”

“Shame?” Teng Shao’s eyes were like frozen pools. “Today the four seas are peaceful, and our Sage Emperor is benevolent and enlightened. The Court has always treated us well. The provisions and pay for the Loyal and Righteous Army came from the Court. The title of Military Governor of Huaixi was bestowed by the Sage Emperor himself. You ate the Emperor’s grain and should have sheltered your region, yet out of selfish ambition, you launched a rebellion – that is disloyalty. Endless warfare disturbing the common people’s peace – that is inhumanity. How dare such a disloyal and inhuman person question me?”

By now, Lin Chengyou had bound all of Peng Zhen’s remaining followers. A search revealed many magical tools and talismans among them, but no sign of anyone particularly small in stature.

Lin Chengyou’s gaze slowly swept from left to right before suddenly seizing the throat of a shifty-eyed cultist: “Where is the Wandering Master Wenqing hiding?”

The Daoist’s face purpled as he struggled to speak: “Isn’t he with the Bright Moon Wanderer? We’re not associated with Master Wenqing.”

Before he could finish, Lin Chengyou used some dark technique that made the cultist’s body convulse violently, his expression becoming horrifically distorted: “I… I’m telling the truth. The Court knows how small Master Wenqing is – even if you search every corner of the city, you may not find an adult man that tiny. As far as we know, Master Wenqing and the Bright Moon Wanderer never escaped Chang’an.”

Lin Chengyou’s expression darkened. He ordered the surrendered generals locked in prison carts, then mounted his horse and said to Teng Shao: “General Teng, Peng Zhen, and his rebels have occupied Caizhou for so long, they may have laid down arrays in the city. Now that we’ve taken it, perhaps we should let General Liu and General Lu handle the remaining matters. We can formally accept their surrender after dawn.”

“Very well,” Teng Shao readily agreed.

As they reached the north gate, the sky above suddenly darkened as clouds rolled in. Before the soldiers could react, their torches all went out simultaneously.

Accompanied by gusts of ghostly wind, strange rustling sounds emerged from the ground beneath their feet.

“Shadow soldiers!” the troops cried in alarm, drawing their swords and anxiously trying to discern movements in their surroundings.

Lin Chengyou spurred his horse to guard Teng Shao, throwing several talismans into the darkness. Where they landed, the otherworldly winds suddenly ceased.

The two great monks Mingxin and Jianxing struck their prayer beads against the ghostly shadows rushing toward them.

The spirits emerging from the soil weren’t just one or two – they came in waves. Their rigid hands grabbed the soldiers’ ankles, terrifying them to their souls. As the troops began to scream in horror and chaotically retreat, a circle of pure golden light suddenly appeared in the air. A great golden net descended like a falling feather or blanket, completely covering the ground.

Meanwhile, Lin Chengyou’s talismans transformed into symbol dragons that split into two streams of raging fire, burning the emerging shadow soldiers until their spectral forms shredded apart. Mingxin and Jianxing each held half of the dharma net, continuing to suppress the evil spirits below.

While scanning for the array’s focal point, Lin Chengyou called out to Teng Shao: “General Teng, the two masters and I will guard the rear. You and the other generals should go ahead.”

Understanding the gravity of the situation, Teng Shao agreed with a quick “Very well” and led his troops forward by the fire dragons’ light. But countless evil spirits emerged outside the city gate, blocking their escape route.

The imprisoned Peng family soldiers laughed with satisfaction: “Master Yin truly had foresight. While arrays couldn’t be laid outside the city, inside we could work freely. If you dared break into the city, you had to be prepared to pay the price. These shadow soldiers came at the perfect time – before we die, we can at least drag some company down with us.”

Before they finished speaking, Lin Chengyou smoothly shot an arrow into a dark shallow pit beneath the city gate. When it struck, it exploded into an expanding fireball.

Peng Zhen and Master Yin couldn’t laugh anymore – that was the focal point of the Yin Sha Array, where they had buried the corpse of someone who died tragically. The victim’s terrible death created endless resentful energy. Once the gate was breached, the array would activate, and within a quarter-hour, this vengeful corpse could summon all evil spirits within a hundred li. They hadn’t expected Lin Chengyou to find its location so quickly.

With the focal point burned, the fierce ghosts dissolved into wisps of black smoke.

The torches relit, and the soldiers hurriedly checked their surroundings. The spirits had vanished, and the ghostly winds had stopped.

In an instant, the order was restored to both armies. As Liu Xiulin and others were admiring Lin Chengyou’s exceptional abilities, Lu Yan cried out in alarm: “General Teng!”

Lin Chengyou turned to see blood streaming down Teng Shao’s left arm.

His expression changed slightly as he quickly rode forward. When he first saw General Teng tonight, he had noticed the darkness in his face and stayed close to protect him. But just now, if he hadn’t found the array’s focal point, more soldiers and civilians would have suffered. Yet in that moment of distraction, General Teng had been wounded by an extremely resentful evil spirit.

Teng Shao’s face was like golden paper as he fell from his horse amid cries of alarm.

Lu Yan and Liu Xiulin rushed forward to catch him and lay him on the ground. Lin Chengyou sealed several major acupoints to stop the spread and gave Teng Shao a Heart-Clearing Pill.

“General Teng!”

Teng Shao spoke with difficulty: “Let’s leave the city first.”

Lin Chengyou ordered Teng Shao carried to a carriage and joined him to examine the wound. When he tore open the sleeve to look at the injured arm, his heart sank.

From the wound, he could tell that the vengeful corpse from the array’s focal point had scratched General Teng in the darkness. This corpse’s yin energy was overwhelming, and it moved with extreme speed – even in torchlight it would have been hard to dodge, let alone in darkness. Though the focal point was destroyed and the vengeful corpse reduced to ashes, the residual poison it left behind was extraordinarily potent.

Fortunately, sealing the major acupoints had contained the poison for now. Lin Chengyou shook out his silver chain, chanting to make the creature reveal its true form.

The Soul-Locking Beast usually hated cleansing poison, but perhaps sensing its master’s anxiety, this time it readily wrapped around Teng Shao’s wounded arm, sucking out the residual poison in great gulps.

Drawing out each bit of corpse poison consumed both the creature’s essence and its master’s power. Gradually, the Soul-Locking Beast’s silver scales took on an ashen hue, while beads of sweat covered Lin Chengyou’s brow.

Teng Shao struggled to raise his other arm, trying to stop Lin Chengyou: “Young Master, don’t harm yourself.”

“Don’t worry, General. It’s just some corpse poison – we’ll clean it out.” Though his words were light, Lin Chengyou knew that if Teng Shao’s poison wasn’t completely purged soon, the wound would slowly rot and spread through his body. Within ten days, the poison would inevitably prove fatal. The Qingyun Temple had some rare spirit herbs extremely effective against corpse poison, but they couldn’t be found anywhere else.

For now, they could only escort Teng Shao back to Chang’an as quickly as possible for medicinal baths. Growing more anxious as he considered this, Lin Chengyou left the Soul-Locking Beast to continue drawing out the poison while he went to make arrangements.

With the rebellion’s suppression a great victory, the soldiers were eager to return home. Lin Chengyou left Liu Xiulin, Chen Wenxiong, and several other generals to handle the aftermath, instructing them to pacify Caizhou’s citizens before leading both armies back to the capital for rewards as originally planned.

After making these arrangements, Lin Chengyou selected a swift-moving unit and four thousand-li horses to escort Teng Shao back to Chang’an for treatment alongside Lu Yan.

In the carriage, Teng Shao’s spirit seemed fair, but his complexion had worsened further. When Lin Chengyou came closer to check on him, his whole body stiffened.

While Lin Chengyou was away, Teng Shao must have unconsciously turned over, exposing the inner clothing at his collar.

Though only a corner was visible, he could see it was covered in dense talismanic scripts.

Lin Chengyou felt as if he’d been plunged into ice. He hurriedly lifted the sleeve on Teng Shao’s other arm – he hadn’t been mistaken. It was the Body-Binding Formula of the Escaping Techniques, but strangely, all the characters were written backward.

This was a rare self-punishing technique – whoever wore such clothing would have their soul scattered after death, never to reincarnate.

Lin Chengyou looked at Teng Shao in shock.

“Young Master needn’t be surprised. I wore this willingly. I… expected something would happen to me.”

“General Teng—”

Teng Shao managed a slight smile: “Was the Young Master also worried something would happen to me? But you saw tonight – even though I tried my best to avoid danger, what was meant to come still came. This wound is no ordinary injury. I may not survive it. I was prepared for this, which is why I put on this clothing beforehand.”

“General Teng, do you know this is the Body-Binding Formula written in reverse!”

Teng Shao closed his eyes briefly: “I… know. Only this way does my Yu’er have a chance to live.”

Lin Chengyou’s throat suddenly tightened.

Teng Shao smiled faintly: “The Young Master is so concerned for my safety – perhaps you’ve already guessed the truth. Yu’er and I… we both bear the Wrong-Hook Curse. I was cursed at age four, so I managed to survive to adulthood. But Yu’er was cursed in the womb – she cannot possibly live past sixteen—”

Lin Chengyou choked up. Though he had known the truth already, the abyss-like despair in Teng Shao’s eyes still made his chest ache inexplicably.

After a moment’s pause, he asked hoarsely: “Was it because of the Battle of Nanyang?”

These words pierced Teng Shao deeply, and he closed his eyes, trembling.

Those painful memories rose to the surface.

Over thirty years ago, the Hu rebels suddenly launched their uprising, sweeping through the counties of Hebei and Luoyang like a devastating storm.

In a single night, the realm shook as beacon fires rose in all directions.

After taking Luoyang, the rebel army quickly advanced to Lingchang, their forces aimed directly at Henan’s fortress – Chenliu. All of Henan’s defenses were in crisis.

Teng Shao’s father, Teng Yuanhao, had been serving as General of the Left Guard in the capital but was recently demoted to Henan for offending a powerful minister.

When the rebellion broke out, he was stationed in Nanyang under imperial orders, with two of his sons beside him, while his wife and youngest son Teng Shao remained at their old residence in Chang’an.

Upon hearing the alarming news, Teng Yuanhao had his two sons lead the soldiers in reinforcing Nanyang’s defenses through the night, while he led his troops to support Chenliu.

They marched day and night, fearing they would arrive too late. But before Teng Yuanhao’s reinforcements could arrive, the newly appointed Military Governor of Henan, Luo Xuan, surrendered the entire city, unable to withstand the rebels’ fierce assault.

Teng Yuanhao was shocked and enraged. At the time, the imperial court was in chaos, with government affairs controlled by corrupt ministers. This new Military Governor of Henan, Luo Xuan, was some distant nephew of a corrupt minister. The man was illiterate and knew nothing of military matters, but excelled at flattery. It was said he obtained the lucrative position of Henan’s Military Governor only because he had previously found a rare steed for the corrupt minister.

After taking his post in Henan, Luo Xuan repeatedly caused trouble for Teng Yuanhao out of jealousy for his prestige and ability. But only today did Teng Yuanhao realize that Luo Xuan was even more worthless than he had imagined – as a regional governor, he not only failed to resist the rebels even briefly but actively opened the gates to surrender.

With Lingchang and Chenliu both fallen, all of Henan would soon become the rebels’ possession.

Teng Yuanhao stared angrily at the rebel banners above Chenliu’s walls. As the sun set, his shadow and those of the twenty thousand reinforcements behind him stretched long in the twilight. Facing Henan’s complete loss, everyone’s hearts were filled with panic and helplessness.

Teng Yuanhao knew that as merely the commander of Nanyang’s defenses, no matter how unwilling, he was powerless to change the situation.

He hurriedly led his army back to Nanyang. The rebels would march day and night, surely pressing south. Nanyang prefecture was a crucial gateway between Guanzhong and the wealthy Jiangnan region. To protect the empire’s grain reserves, they had to hold Nanyang at all costs.

Just after Teng Yuanhao returned to Nanyang with his commanders, over a hundred thousand rebel troops caught up with them. Thus began the momentous siege.

As Teng Yuanhao arranged the city’s defenses through the night, he suddenly realized a fatal problem.

The rebellion had come too suddenly – the city’s grain stores were insufficient.

A month ago, Nanyang still had seventy thousand shi of grain. As an experienced commander, Teng Yuanhao knew how vital food supplies were for a fortress-like Nanyang. Since taking his post there, he had deliberately accumulated stores.

But recently, Puyang and other areas were suddenly struck by locusts and famine. The newly appointed Military Governor of Henan, Luo Xuan, feared being blamed by the court for administrative incompetence. Not only did he refuse to seek imperial aid, but he concealed the news. Fearing riots from the starving people, he forced Teng Yuanhao to transfer fifty thousand shi of grain to Puyang and other counties.

Soon after, the rebellion broke out. In such a short time, Nanyang couldn’t possibly make up for the fifty-thousand-shi shortfall.

The remaining twenty thousand shi could only last one or two months. With rebels outside the city, it was too late to bring in more supplies.

Without enough grain, how could they resist the rebels?!

Teng Yuanhao quickly thought of a solution – evacuate the civilians through secret tunnels while simultaneously bringing in grain through them.

As a longtime Henan fortress, Nanyang’s secret tunnels had taken ten years to dig. The exits were several li south of the city. Once through the tunnels, people could flee to Qiao Prefecture or escape to Jianghuai – anything was better than being trapped in a city with insufficient food.

Teng Yuanhao immediately ordered his subordinates to guide civilians out of the city, prioritizing children and women.

While soldiers fought bloody battles with rebels outside the city, the evacuation proceeded urgently. In just ten days, nearly a hundred thousand civilians were evacuated, and Deputy Commander Wu Zhenxiao secretly brought in almost ten thousand shi of grain from outside.

But then enemy reinforcements discovered the secret passage. To seize it, the rebels massacred all the civilians and soldiers at the tunnel exit. Hearing this, Teng Yuanhao had no choice but to seal the tunnel.

With their only escape route gone, the remaining four thousand civilians had to stay.

Fortunately, another ten thousand shi of grain had been brought in. Added to the twenty thousand in the granaries, if they tightened their belts they could survive.

Teng Yuanhao calmly fought while patiently awaiting reinforcements and supplies.

But he never imagined that for nearly half a year afterward, despite the rebels’ endless attacks on Nanyang, the court would not send a single reinforcement.

Nanyang seemed forgotten in a corner of the world.

For a long time, Teng Yuanhao and his two sons were cut off from the news. Then one day, they learned from rebel commanders outside that Guanlong and other regions had fallen, the imperial court had fractured, and officials had fled in panic – no one could spare attention for Nanyang in its corner of the Central Plains.

Though hearing this filled Teng Yuanhao with grief and rage, he didn’t despair.

He believed that if they just held on, he and his troops would eventually receive support.

With this conviction, Teng Yuanhao continued defending Nanyang to the death.

To capture Nanyang, the rebels rotated through three commanders. Over a hundred thousand rebels attacked in waves, eventually losing more than half their forces.

Correspondingly, Teng Yuanhao and the city’s defenders paid a devastating price.

In this prolonged battle, Nanyang’s thirty thousand elite troops were reduced to just thousands.

Crucially, they had also consumed every last grain of food.

By this point, the rebels outside no longer felt urgent, knowing Nanyang had reached its limit. They simply needed to wait for Teng Yuanhao and his subordinates to exhaust their final strength.

Just then, a suicide squad Teng Yuanhao had sent out fought their way back into the city with heartening news – two military forces had arrived in nearby prefectures: one under Liu Jue, the court’s newly appointed Military Governor of Henan, and another under the veteran general Qin Fengcun coming to support Henan.

Liu Jue had reached the vicinity of Qiao Prefecture, and Qin Fengcun was reportedly en route. The suicide squad had already requested their aid, believing rescue forces would arrive within half a month.

This greatly encouraged Teng Yuanhao and his soldiers.

The enemy outside Nanyang, perhaps fearing complications from delay, began launching fierce attacks.

Believing reinforcements would arrive soon, Teng Yuanhao and his soldiers fought even more valiantly than before.

Through the defenders’ desperate resistance, the enemy was again repelled.

But Nanyang’s soldiers felt no joy in victory. The thirty thousand shi of grain had only lasted four months, and days ago they had run out of food entirely. They had eaten all the rats and sparrows in the city, stripped every leaf and blade of grass. Some soldiers even ate dirt to fill their stomachs.

Watching his gaunt, sallow soldiers, Teng Yuanhao’s heart burned with anguish. At this rate, Nanyang would fall within two days, and all their previous efforts would be for nothing.

But everyone knew Nanyang couldn’t fall.

The rebels didn’t covet Nanyang itself, but the wealthy Jiangnan regions behind it. Enemy forces had already trampled the northern territories and Guanzhong. If they took Jiangnan, they would gain massive supplies and endless treasure.

At that moment, the empire would officially change hands. Imperial reinforcements had reached neighboring prefectures – they just needed to hold out a little longer. But how could soldiers who could barely lift their weapons persevere?

Lost in thought, Teng Yuanhao slowly turned his gaze to a frail old man in the street. With the city’s limited supplies, each person’s ration was minimal. Not long ago, he had even shared his food with this old man, but now—

The old man was terminally ill, with only days to live anyway.

Teng Yuanhao struggled intensely within himself, hesitating for a long time before finally walking slowly down from the wall to the old man’s side.

When Teng Yuanhao returned, the old man’s blood still stained his face. In his mind, he saw the old man’s expression change from surprise to fear to hatred.

That gaze was like a poisoned arrow piercing his heart.

Teng Yuanhao numbly told himself that given the rebels’ usual practices, when Nanyang fell, the people of Jiangnan would face catastrophe. Then it wouldn’t just be Nanyang’s soldiers and civilians who died, but hundreds of thousands. The elderly, women, children, the strong, the young…

It would be an immense disaster.

Only by thinking this way could Teng Yuanhao find any peace.

But he never imagined that the soldiers, their eyes already green with hunger, once started down this path, could not be stopped…

This way, Nanyang held out for another two months, sustained by Teng Yuanhao and his men’s belief that Liu Jue and Qin Fengcun would surely come to their aid.

But after two months, neither Liu Jue nor Qin Fengcun had sent any reinforcements. Teng Yuanhao recalled the suicide squad’s words – the court had appointed two military governors, each recommended by different ministers, one on this side of the river, one on that side. Perhaps both were busy trying to retake Luoyang and didn’t want to divide their forces for Nanyang, especially since the rebels besieging Nanyang numbered a hundred thousand, requiring a large force to rescue it.

Hearing this, the soldiers’ faith finally began to waver.

The empire teetered on the brink, yet these court-appointed commanders were still pursuing their schemes.

But Teng Yuanhao encouraged his troops, saying that even if only to protect the gateway to Jiangnan, Liu Jue, and Qin Fengcun wouldn’t ignore Nanyang’s peril. Liu Jue might be fully committed to attacking Luoyang, while Qin Fengcun had perhaps just reached the neighboring prefecture.

But Nanyang had already endured another two months of suffering, the soldiers again starving, the city’s fall imminent. To seek aid from Qin Fengcun, who was closest to Nanyang, Teng Yuanhao sent Wu Zhenxiao leading dozens of cavalry on a desperate breakthrough attempt.

But once gone, Wu Zhenxiao never returned.

When the city fell, Teng Yuanhao stood proud and fearless, but his soldiers wept bitterly – not from fear, but hatred. General Teng, with his iron backbone, had led them through half a year of siege, repeatedly repelling enemies through brilliant wisdom and admirable tenacity. If the court had sent even one reinforcement, even just thousands of troops, they wouldn’t have been driven step by step into this desperate end.

Until his head was severed by enemy forces, Teng Yuanhao kept his gaze fixed toward Chang’an, as if questioning, as if pondering, but the determination in his eyes never wavered.

Recalling these events, Teng Shao’s eyes were blood-red.

Lin Chengyou’s mood matched his grave expression. Beyond its cruelty, the truth of the Nanyang Battle held infinite sorrow.

Old General Teng had devoted his blood and loyalty to the nation, yet until his dying moment never received the court’s promised grain and troops.

As soon as Nanyang fell, another imperial relief force of forty thousand immediately arrived from Huainan. Taking advantage while the rebels were still regrouping, they recaptured Nanyang in one stroke. If they had held out just two more days, Old General Teng and his commanders would have been saved. But sadly, the old general never had the chance to know this.

Heroes shed blood but not tears – Old General Teng died carrying this regret.

“After learning the truth, I often wondered what I would have done defending Nanyang,” Teng Shao said hoarsely. “Once Nanyang fell, the war would spread north and south of the Great River, eventually claiming hundreds of thousands of civilian lives and making suppressing the rebellion far more difficult. But weren’t those four thousand civilians in the city also innocent? They too were living people who wanted to survive. Faced with the defenders’ weapons, they could only be… For two full months, the terror and despair those civilians faced was no different from hell itself. I think they must have hated my father to their deaths – why else would they choose to have their souls scattered rather than let Teng family descendants live?”

Lin Chengyou remained silent for a long time. The bone-deep hatred of over four thousand people had transformed into a powerful, unbreakable curse.

More than one person had successfully cast the curse. Falling on Old General Teng, affected both him and Teng Yu’yi.

Whether the Teng family descendants wanted it or not, fate’s noose had already silently tightened around their throats.

Even changing their destiny patterns, what awaited father and daughter would still be repeated “unnatural deaths.”

Suddenly, Lin Chengyou’s heart ached terribly.

Whose fault was all this, in the end?

For the first time in his life, he couldn’t provide an answer. Such a heart-wrenching history, such a devastating military disaster – even if he had been there himself, he probably wouldn’t have the right to judge right from wrong.

After pondering bitterly for a moment, Lin Chengyou turned his gaze to Teng Shao’s inner garment.

“General Teng prepared this garment with the reversed Body-Binding Formula to draw all the curses onto yourself?” His eyes showed understanding, but even more sorrow.

Teng Shao’s expression was bitter, clearly having long since made his decision: “Before this campaign, a master divined that I would meet with disaster, just as Yu’er experienced in her ‘previous life’ – I would still die at thirty-eight. After understanding the truth of the Wrong-Hook Curse, I began seeking ways to break it for Yu’er and myself. But someone told me curses can only be resolved through other curses. If I die wearing this garment, my soul will scatter with no chance of reincarnation. The Wrong-Hook Curse can only affect three generations – if I can take on the heaviest curse alone, the punishment falling on Yu’er will be greatly reduced…”

At this point, Teng Shao closed his eyes: “Like Huiniang, I only want Yu’er to live safely and peacefully.”

Perhaps because he mentioned his wife, Teng Shao’s voice trembled slightly.

That year, his wife was troubled day and night by nightmares. To ward off misfortune and seek blessings, Huiniang vowed to burn incense and pray at every Buddhist temple she passed.

Once when he took his wife and Yu’er back to Yangzhou, his wife spotted a Buddhist temple on the banks of the Wei River and asked him to dock their boat. While burning incense in the temple, they happened to meet Abbot Zhiren.

Abbot Zhiren’s background was unusual. Before becoming a monk, he had been a Daoist priest. It was said that in his early years, he often traveled with fellow Daoists to exorcise evil spirits, slaying many supernatural creatures.

In middle age, Zhiren suddenly felt drawn to Buddhism. He cast off his Daoist robes to join the monastery and began studying Buddhist principles intensively.

Abbot Zhiren had kind eyes and benevolent brows, with large ears reaching his shoulders. Seeing his extraordinary appearance, Huiniang asked his advice about her recurring nightmares.

Abbot Zhiren asked when the nightmares began and what she saw in them.

Huiniang said she had nightmares while pregnant with her daughter, but they stopped after the birth. When her daughter turned four, she went to the Baolian Temple to light blessing lamps for both father and daughter. Unexpectedly, once she lit these lamps, the nightmares returned.

Abbot Zhiren said he’d never heard of blessing lamps attracting vengeful spirits. He suspected her daughter was under some curse, where any attempts to seek blessings for her would backfire. Huiniang’s renewed nightmares came from the resentful energy triggered by lighting those blessing lamps for father and daughter.

Though Huiniang couldn’t believe the Teng and Wang families’ ancestors had done anything wrong, recent strange events left her bewildered. Learning that Zhiren was versed in both Buddhist and Daoist arts, she asked if he knew how to break such a curse.

Zhiren agreed to consult his former Daoist colleagues and suggested Huiniang remove the blessing lamps from the Baolian Temple. If her nightmares stopped afterward, it would confirm the child was indeed cursed.

When leaving Puti Temple, Huiniang made her usual vows before Buddha, but this time she prayed only for herself rather than her husband and daughter. She wished for things to go smoothly for herself, naturally including her husband and daughter’s safety within this broader wish.

Back in Yangzhou, Huiniang changed the dedication of her blessing lamps at Baolian Temple to pray for herself alone. That night, she had no nightmares.

This plunged Huiniang into deep worry. During this time, she constantly wrote to Abbot Zhiren at Puti Temple, but it was half a year before she received his reply.

When Huiniang opened his letter, it was like cold water poured over her head.

At this point, Teng Shao’s eyes filled with regret: “How I hate that I knew nothing of this then. No matter how Huiniang questioned me, I insisted firmly that the Teng ancestors had never done anything wrong. Unable to learn the truth from me, she could only search for answers alone. I can’t imagine how much she suffered then.”

Based on her husband’s words, Huiniang half-doubted the abbot’s letter. But soon after, she not only miscarried again but also learned the truth about the Battle of Nanyang from Wu Yingying. Only then did Huiniang understand the source of the countless white bones in her dreams?

Huiniang felt as if she’d fallen into hell. The ghostly hatred of those civilians in her dreams chilled her to the bone. Each time she woke from these nightmares, she remained terrified for long after, realizing this wasn’t just vengeful spirits seeking revenge, but a curse.

After several anxious days, Huiniang quickly made up her mind. Over the past year or two, she had consulted many monks and Daoists, but only this Abbot Zhiren, versed in both Buddhist and Daoist arts, had identified the root cause. In all the world, probably no one but Zhiren could help her husband and daughter. The court was urgently summoning the Zhenhai Army to attack Tibet, and her husband was often away discussing military matters. Fearing he might meet with disaster on this campaign, she wrote to Abbot Zhiren that very night, begging him to come to Yangzhou and help break the curse.

Zhiren said he couldn’t help, but Huiniang’s repeated letters softened his heart. He told her of another solution proposed by a Daoist friend from Youyou Temple in Cangzhou. This priest had once helped a family try to break a Wrong-Hook Curse. Though ultimately unsuccessful, the experience taught him that such curses might be partially offset using the good fortune of close blood relatives. However, this required a special ritual that was extremely difficult to perform, needing both Buddhist and Daoist practitioners working together.

Zhiren also told Huiniang that judging by her daughter’s destiny pattern, the child would encounter a fate-changing opportunity around age five.

This opportunity would come through another child blessed with great fortune. If Huiniang wanted to perform this ritual, it had to be before her daughter turned five. After that threshold, no amount of prayer would help.

At this point, Teng Shao turned to look at Lin Chengyou, profound gratitude clear in his deep gaze. Lin Chengyou felt as if a fierce wind swept through his heart.

“Recently, I finally found Abbot Zhiren in his mountain retreat. When he heard Yu’er could foresee future events, he guessed she had lived through one lifetime. He sighed for a long time about this, saying Huiniang had a strong Buddhist affinity. In the first life, the ritual brought Yu’er a chance to borrow life, but this rebirth also trapped Yu’er and me in this ‘reincarnation’ curse. In this second life, Huiniang again unhesitatingly used her good fortune to pray for blessings for us…”

Teng Shao suddenly choked up.

This time, Huiniang finally obtained an ancient divine sword for him and their daughter. But because someone had helped Yu’er defy heaven and change fate in her “previous life,” both the spell-caster and Yu’er would constantly encounter supernatural creatures. This was both a tribulation and an opportunity for them. The sword could slay demons and exorcise evil – if Yu’er didn’t fear hardship, she might be able to eliminate her karmic obstacles through demon-slaying.

“Abbot Zhiren told me that when Huiniang understood the situation back then, she immediately wrote back saying she would perform this ritual. She said regardless of whether it worked, having found the source of the nightmares, they had to try. And if she told her husband beforehand, knowing his temperament, he would not only refuse to allow the ritual but would drive Zhiren away as a spreader of misleading teachings.”

With her husband and daughter’s safety at stake, Huiniang dared not risk telling him – at least not before performing the ritual.

Abbot Zhiren solemnly warned Huiniang that she had few years left to live. If she used her good fortune to ward off disaster for her husband and child, death might come as soon as that year. But Huiniang said what use was a long life if she had to watch her child and husband die unnatural deaths? That would be worse than death. She was willing to give her fortune to them, believing it must bring some return.

Before the ritual, Huiniang spent her days making new clothes and ornaments for her daughter. Since her daughter always needed mother’s embrace to sleep, she even hand-made her a doll. When feeling well, she would personally make sweets with the child. But with her husband, Huiniang deliberately grew distant, fearing that if the ritual succeeded, she would leave them early – the deeper their love, the more he would grieve. The more he grieved, the more she would suffer.

Having made these arrangements, Huiniang calmly awaited the ritual.

Tears silently rolled down Teng Shao’s cheeks, soaking his collar.

“This curse targeted my father – if there must be punishment, it should fall on me. I hate that I was powerless against this fate, ultimately harming my wife and child. After learning the truth, I often wondered – neither Huiniang nor I ever did evil, so why did we suffer this fate? The curse came from Nanyang’s civilians, but what wrong had they done?!”

He wanted to hate but found no one to blame.

Lin Chengyou felt intense bitterness – faced with such despair, like struggling in quicksand, mere words of comfort seemed utterly powerless.

Teng Shao stared at some point in space, suddenly smiling sadly: “I asked Abbot Zhiren if this sword Huiniang obtained could help Yu’er break her curse. But he said that although Yu’er had eliminated many evil spirits with the Xiaoya Sword, the curse might remain unbroken. My facial features showed impending disaster – unless I returned safely from this campaign, we couldn’t know if the curse was broken. So I prepared this cursed garment in advance. It’s the world’s most vicious self-punishment technique, but only this way can it break the world’s most vicious curse. Only by ensuring I too can never reincarnate can I completely shield Yu’er from this disaster.”

Before he finished speaking, Teng Shao suddenly began breathing heavily. Lin Chengyou started in alarm as Teng Shao’s complexion rapidly worsened.

Those poisoned by corpse venom shouldn’t experience extreme emotional swings, as this hastens the poison’s spread. Earlier when Teng Shao spoke of the past, Lin Chengyou had wanted to interrupt several times, but Teng Shao was determined to use his death to win his daughter a chance at life, showing no will to survive. Abbot Zhiren’s words proved true – the curse on the father and daughter remained. From the moment the vengeful corpse wounded him tonight, Teng Shao had prepared himself for death.

“General Teng.” Deeply worried, Lin Chengyou held Teng Shao’s jaw and placed a Spirit-Protecting Pill in his mouth. If only they had Six Elements Pills – those were remarkably effective against supernatural poisons. Unfortunately, his master hadn’t prepared more since returning to Chang’an, and the bottle he usually carried had been completely used up treating Du Tinglan and others who fell unconscious during the tree demon incident at Purple Cloud Tower.

Thinking of this, Lin Chengyou felt dazed. Teng Yu’yi had risked death to save her cousin from the tree demon, but this used up all the Six Elements Pills, leaving none to save General Teng when he was poisoned – wasn’t this all fated—

Seeing Teng Shao’s condition rapidly deteriorating, Lin Chengyou suddenly ordered the carriage to stop. He went to another wagon carrying supplies and quickly retrieved something, hurrying back to Teng Shao’s side.

Opening the bundle revealed a box of preserved fruits and a stack of flower-patterned silk.

“General Teng.” Lin Chengyou helped Teng Shao sit up, gesturing toward the item within the patterned silk. “This is the package A’Yu sent to the army. It was sent from Chang’an in June, but because the Zhenhai and Strategic armies have been moving about these past two months, I only received it last night. There are two items – one is preserved fruits she made herself, for me. The other is for you, General. Look carefully – this is a summer garment A’Yu made for you with her own hands.”

Teng Shao’s tear-filled eyes fixed on the object before him – a Buddhist-blue summer garment with somewhat crude stitching.

Lin Chengyou lifted the sleeve so Teng Shao could see its intricate patterns: “I don’t know how long it took A’Yu to make this garment, but just looking at these patterns shows how much care she put into it. Every stitch, every thread, every corner was sewn by her own hands. She knew the army camps would be hot, and lighter clothes would be better. Sending this to you in the field – she only wanted her father to suffer less from the summer heat. General Teng, don’t you know how much A’Yu thinks of her father?”

Teng Shao’s nostrils flared as he examined the stitching through his tears.

“With her father campaigning, A’Yu surely hopes for his safe return. If in the end she receives only her father’s corpse, how heartbroken she would be. A’Yu lost her mother young – if her father leaves too, she’ll be all alone. If she learns that General Teng ensured his soul could never return just to break her curse, even if she lives to a hundred, she may never find peace. General Teng, you and Lady Teng’s love for A’Yu runs even deeper than I imagined, but A’Yu’s love for her parents is no less profound. General Teng’s resolve is extraordinary, and you’ve reached this point with no other choice, but until the final moment, there may still be hope.”

“If only for A’Yu’s sake, please hold on until we reach Chang’an.” With these words, Lin Chengyou solemnly draped the summer garment over Teng Shao.

Teng Shao closed his tear-filled eyes. The garment was silk-soft, reminding him of his daughter’s tender cheeks in childhood. As memories flashed before him, his heart softened like the fabric. After a long silence, though his breath was failing, he managed a difficult nod.

***

On the way to Qingyun Temple, Teng Yu’yi was unusually silent.

Juesheng and Qizhi rarely saw Teng Yu’yi so grave and dared not speak casually.

Along the way, the Xuanyin Bell on Teng Yu’yi’s wrist occasionally chimed softly, indicating the evil spirits outside had weak magical powers. Juesheng and Qizhi held talismans and lifted the carriage curtains to look out. In the deep night, they could see spirits drifting past in the streets.

Lost in thought, Teng Yu’yi suddenly realized something wasn’t right. Usually, Juesheng and Qizhi would capture spirits as soon as they saw them, but tonight they showed no intention of doing so.

She asked them: “Why aren’t you capturing the spirits in the street? Aren’t you worried they’ll harm nearby civilians?”

Juesheng shook his head: “We can’t capture them. These are just wandering souls who were good people in life and don’t harm others even as ghosts. They linger without reincarnating mostly because they have unfinished business. We can only help them pass on through rituals, not rashly scatter their souls. That would harm our karmic merit and greatly damage our cultivation.”

Teng Yu’yi asked further: “I remember when the Chi Kuo manifested last time, the old Daoist Master feared it would enter the city and led his fellow Daoists in laying an evil-repelling net around the city. These wandering souls aren’t very powerful – shouldn’t they be unable to enter the city?”

Qizhi replied worriedly: “Someone must have secretly damaged part of the evil-repelling net. Chang’an is huge, with over ten city gates and countless people entering and leaving daily – there are plenty of opportunities to damage the net. Just one gap lets wandering souls and evil spirits slip through. Even if we find that breach, we can’t prevent them from damaging another section.”

Teng Yu’yi nodded. Someone was deliberately causing trouble. In her view, it was probably the Bright Moon Wanderer’s master. But thinking about this, something puzzled her: “If these wandering souls can’t harm people and have weak magic, what’s the point of leading them into the city?”

Suddenly Qizhi said: “Miss Teng, haven’t you noticed these wandering souls have been following our carriage?”

Teng Yu’yi hurriedly lifted the curtain to look out. In the middle of the night, the streets were empty – she couldn’t see anything.

Qizhi quickly helped open her celestial eye.

When Teng Yu’yi looked again, she saw the streets full of ghostly shadows following the carriage, kept at a distance by their fear of the Xiaoya Sword’s light.

“These past few days, Juesheng and I noticed more evil spirits and wandering souls near the Teng residence than elsewhere. But since Senior Brother set up a barrier there, they didn’t dare enter freely. Miss Teng, we think they’re like tonight’s wandering souls – extremely interested in you.”

Teng Yu’yi lowered the curtain, thinking this was strange. Though she had always attracted spirits, she’d never seen wandering souls follow her in such groups before.

As she pondered this, Duan Fu’s respectful voice came from outside: “Master.”

Looking out, they saw Qingyun Temple’s carriage, and with Master Qingxu came the Five Daoists from Dongming Temple.

The Five Daoists were clamoring: “Master Qingxu, when our Dongming Temple was famous in Chang’an, your Qingyun Temple was still just mud bricks! Others may fear you, but we don’t. Why did you call us out in the middle of the night? Yes, all these vengeful spirits in the city are strange, but what makes you say this is related to the Wrong-Hook Curse? Tell us, who is the cursed person? And how did they attract so many spirits?”

Jianxi complained: “Exactly. We’ve been wandering the streets for over an hour. You might not need sleep, but we do. Besides, what does someone else’s Wrong-Hook Curse have to do with us? No matter what you say tonight, we absolutely won’t follow you to Qingyun Temple.”

Juesheng and Qizhi jumped down from the carriage: “Grandmaster, why have you come out so late?”

Teng Yu’yi looked between Master Qingxu and the Five Daoists, realizing they seemed to have come specifically for her. She hurried forward to greet them: “Master.”

Master Qingxu raised his white eyebrows: “It’s late – why are you wandering about outside?”

He swatted Juesheng and Qizhi’s foreheads with his whisk: “The heavens show strange signs, yet instead of convincing Miss Teng to stay home, you accompany her about. Meeting wandering souls and wild ghosts is one thing, but if you encountered the Chi Kuo, could you two handle it with your abilities?”

Teng Yu’yi quickly apologized to Master Qingxu: “It’s not the young masters’ fault – I had urgent business outside. Today I sought out an old acquaintance to verify something from the past, and was just going to inform the Master about it.”

Master Qingxu paused, perhaps noting Teng Yu’yi’s unusually poor complexion, then nodded and spoke more gently: “Very well, very well. It’s not safe outside – let’s discuss this at the temple.”

But the Five Daoists wouldn’t move, staring at Teng Yu’yi in shock: “Master Qingxu, you’re saying the person with the Wrong-Hook Curse is Miss Teng?”

Teng Yu’yi had no heart to answer, and Master Qingxu didn’t respond.

Jiantian suddenly understood: “No wonder Miss Teng keeps encountering evil spirits, so it’s because—”

Knowing cursed people rarely met good ends, his gaze flickered and he left the thought unfinished. The others also showed various expressions.

By now, Master Qingxu and Teng Yu’yi’s group had already mounted their carriages. The Five Daoists hurriedly jumped on their donkeys.

“Old Master, we’ll come with you to Qingyun Temple.”

Juesheng asked naively: “The seniors are willing to come to Qingyun Temple now?”

Jiantian grinned: “We might ignore others, but since it’s Miss Teng who’s cursed – last time at Caifeng Tower we lost a bet to her, and still haven’t made good on it. Helping out this time can count as paying that debt.”

Juesheng and Qizhi felt warmth in their hearts and smiled, scratching their heads.

Looking back, they saw Teng Yu’yi also smiling, chin in hand. Juesheng and Qizhi whispered: “No wonder Grandmaster and Senior Brother often think of the Five Seniors – they probably know their hearts are good. See, when there’s real trouble, the seniors never seem to refuse.”

Teng Yu’yi was about to tap the carriage wall to say something to the Five Daoists when another group approached, led by another familiar face.

“Brother Kuannu.” Juesheng and Qizhi smiled in surprise. “What a lively night.”

Kuannu rode forward, first dismounting to greet Master Qingxu and the Five Daoists, then spoke to Teng Yu’yi and the others in the carriage: “Tonight the city is full of wandering souls. The Prince and Princess were worried about Miss Teng and sent someone to check on her at the residence, only to find Miss Teng and the two young masters gone, and even Steward Cheng hadn’t returned. Fearing something had gone wrong, they had me lead men searching south from Chongren Ward while they set out themselves to search northward.”

Teng Yu’yi startled. Tonight when seeking Wu Yingying to ask about past events, it wasn’t appropriate for others to know, so she had made arrangements secretly without informing the Prince of Cheng’s household. She hadn’t expected to alarm the Prince and Princess.

Her face warming, she quickly dismounted: “I’m grateful for the Prince and Princess’s concern. This won’t happen again.”

Kuannu smiled: “Now that we see Miss Teng is with the Master, we can rest easy. I’ll go report to the Prince and Princess so they can stop searching. Miss Teng and the masters should go ahead – the Prince and Princess will come to Qingyun Temple later.”

Teng Yu’yi agreed. As she got back in the carriage, she wondered – Master Qingxu suddenly gathering so many people at Qingyun Temple and repeatedly mentioning the Wrong-Hook Curse – could he have thought of a way to break her curse?

Listening to the Five Daoists talking outside and thinking of everyone she’d met tonight, she felt an inexplicable warmth flow through her chest.

She thought further – if they successfully captured Caizhou, Lin Chengyou, and Father would return soon. The package she had sent through Steward Cheng several months ago must have reached Lin Chengyou and Father by now.

Would Lin Chengyou, being so picky, like the preserved fruits? Her hands had wrinkled from washing all the fuzz off the fruit.

And that summer garment… would it fit Father well? Thinking of Father made her heart ache inexplicably. Only tonight, learning the truth about the Battle of Nanyang, did she realize how much Father had carried all these years. She had so many things she wanted to tell him…

As she silently counted the days until Lin Chengyou and Father’s return, a man’s cry suddenly rang out from somewhere: “Help—”

The cry was extremely urgent but brief, as if suddenly muffled.

Duan Fu quickly halted the carriage, turning his head to listen intently. The Teng family guards around the carriage sensed nearby danger and silently drew their weapons.

It came from around a corner. Qingyun Temple’s carriage and the Five Daoists’ donkeys had already turned the corner, so they hadn’t heard the brief cry for help. But Teng Yu’yi, Juesheng, and Qizhi had heard it. The three held their breath, trying to determine its direction. Soon, Juesheng and Qizhi said uneasily: “Why does that voice sound so familiar?”

“It’s Director Yan.” Teng Yu’yi’s face darkened. Lin Chengyou had always deeply trusted this colleague – if Director Yan was in danger, they couldn’t ignore it.

She carefully lifted the carriage curtain and said quietly to Duan Fu: “Quick, have Changgen check it out first.”

Changgen’s group quickly returned to the carriage, reporting urgently: “Young Miss, something’s happened. A Court of Justice official was attacked over there. I’ve seen him before with the Young Master – Young Miss should know him too.”

Teng Yu’yi’s heart pounded: “Go tell the Master about this.”

After speaking, she descended with Juesheng and Qizhi to investigate. It was a narrow alley without lighting – the attackers had already fled swiftly. Changgen had immediately had his men check both sides, and now Teng family guards filled the alley inside and out.

Changgen and Duan Fu led the way with lanterns while Teng Yu’yi and the others hurried forward. They only stopped at the deepest part of the alley. As soon as they saw the figure on the ground, Juesheng and Qizhi’s breathing became heavy and rapid.

“Director Yan!” Juesheng and Qizhi rushed forward.

Yan still wore the green official robes of a lower-ranking Court of Justice official, lying like a fallen leaf in the alley’s depths.

Teng Yu’yi grabbed the lantern from Changgen and ran over. Seeing Yan’s face, her breath caught. It was still the same young, peaceful face as usual, but his pupils were dilated, with bright fluid at the corners of his mouth. His vacant expression was completely different from normal.

Juesheng and Qizhi cried out in shock and anger: “This is— his soul has been stolen!”

Qizhi sprang up and ran out: “I’ll tell Grandmaster!”

Teng Yu’yi asked Changgen bitterly: “Did you see what the attackers looked like?”

Changgen shook his head regretfully.

Teng Yu’yi bit her lip and immediately lifted Yan’s shoulders: “Hurry, let’s get Director Yan to Qingyun Temple first – the Master might have a way.”

Juesheng was burning with anxiety and quickly helped carry him. Just then, footsteps came from the street as Master Qingxu and the Five Daoists arrived, having heard the commotion.

“What happened?”

“Director Yan from the Court of Justice was ambushed,” Qizhi said urgently.

The Five Daoists gasped – they’d worked with Director Yan on several cases and had grown familiar with the young official.

Master Qingxu strode forward, shook his sleeve, and lifted Yan’s eyelids with his finger. After one look, the old man’s expression grew grave.

“His three hun souls are missing from his body – quick, to Qingyun Temple.”

Just as they’d gotten Yan settled in the carriage, blood suddenly trickled from the corner of his mouth. Juesheng and Qizhi were greatly alarmed, frantically wiping it with handkerchiefs. Teng Yu’yi knew this was bad and called urgently: “Duan Fu, Duan Fu!”

Duan Fu entered the carriage to examine him, then said after a pause: “He was likely force-fed poison earlier – looks like heartbreak grass.”

Teng Yu’yi’s heart went cold. She quickly said: “Ask the Master if he has any way to counteract the poison.”

Duan Fu’s expression was grave as he jumped down from the carriage. After Master Qingxu came up to look, he indeed said nothing, only taking a Snow Lotus Pill from his sleeve to put in Yan’s mouth before urging the carriage to hurry on.

“Grandmaster, can this poison be neutralized?”

“I fear it’s too late.” Master Qingxu stayed in the carriage to watch over him.

The carriage fell silent. Juesheng and Qizhi fought back tears: “Don’t- don’t panic. The temple has many antidotes – Grandmaster, you must have a way. Uncle Duan Fu, please drive faster.”

But Teng Yu’yi stopped Duan Fu: “Imperial Physician Yu is skilled at treating all rare poisons. Quickly have Changgen request his help using Father’s name.”

“With the Master not in the capital and without his token, Changgen may not be able to summon Imperial Physician Yu.”

Master Qingxu was about to hand over his medicine pouch to Changgen, but Teng Yu’yi had already passed over her jade pendant: “Use this!”

It was what Lin Chengyou had specifically left her before departing the capital. She’d carried it but never used it until tonight for Director Yan. Lin Chengyou would never want anything to happen to Yan – perhaps this jade pendant could bring him a chance at survival.

After making these arrangements, Teng Yu’yi noticed Master Qingxu had also taken out his medicine pouch, but everyone was too focused on saving Yan to pay attention to these details. Keeping Yan alive was the most urgent matter now.

The carriage shot like an arrow toward Qingyun Temple.

Halfway there, Master Qingxu had Juesheng and Qizhi check Yan for other injuries. As they examined his feet, Teng Yu’yi happened to notice a torn piece of paper stuck to the sole of his boot.

Startled, she quickly peeled off the paper, which was attached with some paste that had held it firmly to the boot sole.

Teng Yu’yi rubbed the paste with her fingertip and showed the paper to Master Qingxu: “Master, look at this.”

They had already searched Yan’s person and found no paste – the attackers must have taken everything from him after the assault.

This small piece of paper on his boot sole looked unremarkable and, in the dark alley, had escaped the attackers’ notice.

Master Qingxu quickly said: “Bring the light closer.”

But the paper bore no visible writing – it was blank.

Juesheng and Qizhi were greatly disappointed, but Teng Yu’yi studied the paper thoughtfully. This couldn’t be a coincidence – paste and paper couldn’t both accidentally end up on a boot sole. Yan must have already sensed danger then – he wouldn’t have done something meaningless.

Blank paper, blank paper… Something stirred in Teng Yu’yi’s mind, and she held the paper up to the light again. This time she finally noticed something.

There were some rough marks, as if made by fingernails – barely noticeable at first glance, but after careful examination…

“Minshan Yan Four.” Teng Yu’yi was startled.

Juesheng and Qizhi hurried over to confirm: “It says these four characters. What does it mean?”

Qizhi seemed to remember something: “Right, isn’t Director Yan from Minshan? Is he referring to himself?”

Teng Yu’yi frowned slightly. What would be the point of leaving his title in such an urgent moment?

No, this must refer to someone else.

Yan had no writing materials with him then and could only use his fingernails in an emergency, but fearing the attackers would find the note, he’d carefully hidden it on his bootsole.

Master Qingxu mused: “Yan may not be his family’s fourth son – this might be some relative of his from Minshan.”

“Could this relative be connected to the case?”

Juesheng and Qizhi were completely bewildered.

Teng Yu’yi’s mind raced. They couldn’t understand this clue, but Lin Chengyou would surely know its meaning.

This note was left for Lin Chengyou.

Yan must have known that even if he didn’t escape, his body would be sent to the Court of Justice.

Lin Chengyou, both his colleague and friend, would surely perform the examination himself.

As long as the strong paste didn’t dry out, this small piece of paper wouldn’t fall from the boot sole. Given Lin Chengyou’s attention to detail when investigating cases, he would eventually find it.

Teng Yu’yi slowly turned her gaze to Yan, admiration flowing in her eyes.

Yan was using this method to leave Lin Chengyou one final clue.

Even though his attackers were extremely cunning, Yan had succeeded.

Author’s Note: The way to break curses of hatred is through love – parents’ love for their children, children’s love for their parents, friendship between companions, and love between lovers.