Rong Chen Zi carried He Bang back to the mountainside camp. The mountain breeze was cool and faint. Ye Tian’s expression was stormy, and Cabinet Elder Liu felt as though yet another obstacle had been placed in his path. As for He Bang herself, she wrapped both arms around Rong Chen Zi’s neck and cheerfully hummed a Sichuan folk song — the Crab Song.

“Oh the crab, my crab brother, eight legs he’s got, two big eyes, one hard little shell-o.”

Everyone present was a person of some standing. Not one of them had ever heard something so utterly beneath dignity, and all of them frowned. Rong Chen Zi found himself caught between laughter and exasperation, yet he made no move to stop her.

As they were out in the wilderness, supper was rather simple. He Bang disliked eating from a communal pot with a crowd of people and only managed two bites before drifting off to amuse herself elsewhere. In front of others, Rong Chen Zi could hardly feed her himself and had no choice but to let her go.

Cabinet Elder Liu kept Rong Chen Zi engaged with various anecdotes about feng shui. Some time later, when Rong Chen Zi glanced back, he found her turning his compass over in her hands with great curiosity. That compass of Rong Chen Zi’s had seen many years — it had been passed down from his grandmaster and later entrusted to him by the Purple Heart Daozhang. The inner disc was made of hard walnut wood; the outer plate was square, the inner disc round, and with the passage of time it had taken on a warm ivory sheen, smooth enough to serve as a mirror.

Now He Bang, too restless to sleep, was wandering back and forth across the open stretch of the mountainside with the compass in hand. Rong Chen Zi’s lips curved ever so slightly upward. He drifted toward her, and before she realized it, stepped up behind her and covered her hands with his own: “Hold it like this!” He leveled the compass steadily in both palms, his voice dropping low. “The compass reads feng shui through the Eight Methods of the Magnetic Needle. When the needle sways and cannot settle, it is called a deflected needle; when the needle’s tip tilts upward, a floating needle; when the tip sinks down, a sinking needle; when the needle spins without stopping, a spinning needle; when it rises and falls in turns, a wavering needle; when it tilts askew and will not straighten, a contrary needle; and when the needle strays from the center line, a sideways needle. A true needle returns to center and lies level.”

The mountain wind swept past their ears. Cabinet Elder Liu and the others had closed their eyes to rest. His voice was low and unhurried: “For ordinary dwellings, the first seven are all to be avoided. Only the true needle is acceptable.”

The great He Bang tilted her head: “What happens if you get a deflected needle?”

“That would take quite some time to explain.” Rong Chen Zi leaned against a mulberry tree and sat down, picking up a short length of branch to draw symbols in the earth. “A deflected needle indicates something sinister underground — anyone who dwells there will be inviting disaster. A floating needle means that yin spirits stand at the threshold of that place; one must approach with great reverence and care. A sinking needle means the yin energy is stagnant and pooled — harmful to those who reside there…” He explained it all to He Bang in careful, patient detail.

His posture was upright, but He Bang was boneless — she had been sitting for only a moment before she had drifted over and leaned herself into his arms. She, however, listened with genuine interest. Rong Chen Zi, uneasy with being too close to her, gently held her back with one hand and settled her against the mulberry tree instead. He Bang fingered the compass, full of curiosity: “Is this thing accurate? Why does the needle keep swaying and won’t stay still?”

“Possibly because you are a demon.” Rong Chen Zi took the compass from her hands and set it aside. “The accumulated experience of those who came before us is accurate indeed.”

He Bang’s voice remained soft and sweet, young and clear: “You people certainly have a lot of accumulated experience — though a good deal of it is about catching demons, which is very disagreeable.”

Her slender hands were rosy and delicate. Rong Chen Zi’s voice was gentle: “Daozong has many distinguished Daoists who were also once demon cultivators ascending to immortality. Daozong treats demons and humans equally. Only demons that have done great evil are captured — those who do no harm are left alone.”

He Bang leaned against the mulberry tree beside him, sitting shoulder to shoulder. She began by tilting her head back to look at the stars, but before long she was yawning and nodding off against the rough tree trunk. Rong Chen Zi did not sleep. The best hours for reading aura were the yin hour, the you hour, and the chou hour — he needed to make his way up the mountain at the chou hour.

Cabinet Elder Liu had been hoping to have his daughter come and make friendly conversation with Rong Chen Zi, but He Bang’s arrival meant she clung to him so closely that there wasn’t even a chance to exchange a private word. Thinking this over, he shot a glare at his youngest daughter, Liu Qinfang. She was only fourteen, far too young to understand anything — at this moment she lay sleeping beside her elderly maid, and when she caught his look, her face was entirely blank.

He Bang slept for a spell before waking. Half-asleep, she instinctively leaned toward Rong Chen Zi — Rong Chen Zi steadied her back against the mulberry tree: “Sit properly.”

She grew a little indignant and gave Rong Chen Zi a firm shove. Rong Chen Zi did not rise to it. A moment later she began to scratch at her arm. After several times, Rong Chen Zi paid closer attention: “What’s the matter?”

He gently drew back her sleeve to find her soft hands covered in red marks where the bark had dug in. He Bang muttered: “It’s itchy and it hurts.” Rong Chen Zi frowned, then pulled her over to himself — the side of her that had rested against the mulberry tree was impressed with marks like a griddled flatbread. He found it both funny and a little heartrending, and reached out to gently rub the marks away.

Nestled against him, He Bang slept more soundly.

Just as the two of them were quite content together, Ye Tian strode over, said not a word, tossed a thin blanket at Rong Chen Zi, and turned back to the campfire. Rong Chen Zi cleared his throat, wrapped the blanket around He Bang, and let her rest against his chest: “Sleep a while. At the chou hour I need to go up the mountain to survey the earth aura. All right?”

He Bang was unhappy: “It isn’t even your own business — why do you put your heart into it so?”

Rong Chen Zi patted the top of her head: “When one accepts a commission, one must fulfill it faithfully.” He suddenly recalled that she had eaten almost nothing this evening, and spoke low once more: “Are you hungry? Let me go see if there are any fruit growing on the mountain.”

The great He Bang hesitated a moment, then wrapped herself around him all the tighter and said, which was remarkably out of character: “I don’t want fruit right now.”

Deep in the mountains, the night wind never ceased, and from time to time a beast’s cry carried through the dark. The bonfire burned bright. Rong Chen Zi shifted his posture to let her rest more comfortably. He Bang wrapped both arms around his solid waist, buried her face against him, and breathed in deeply — the faint, drifting scent of his immortal flesh rose up and filled her senses, and once again He Bang’s mouth began to water: “Zhiguan?”

“Mm?”

“Give me some of your flesh!” She was practically drooling with longing. “Wuu, please give me just a little piece!”

Her soft body wriggled restlessly in his arms. Rong Chen Zi felt his pulse stir, and he pressed his hand to He Bang’s shoulder to hold her still: “Don’t squirm about.”

When the chou hour arrived, he rose to leave. The great He Bang jumped to her feet as well: “I’m going too.”

Rong Chen Zi was helpless with her, and simply took her hand and brought her along. Qingsu moved to follow, but Rong Chen Zi waved him back: “You needn’t come. Stay here and look after the junior aunt and Master Liu. There is a mountain spring up there — I’ll take her to soak in the water.”

Qingsu handed the qiankun pouch to Rong Chen Zi while stealing a glance at He Bang — the future mistress really did have her ways, he thought with an inward click of his tongue…

Rong Chen Zi’s pace was naturally something Cabinet Elder Liu and his sort could not match. He took He Bang by the hand and moved swiftly up the mountain. The moonlight was thin that night, yet he moved as if on level ground. He Bang, guided along by him, was not so much as grazed by a single twig. After roughly half an hour, the mountain spring came into view. Rong Chen Zi set He Bang down in it, the cool water soaking clear through her robe and outlining her every curve beneath. Rong Chen Zi cupped water and drenched her thoroughly: “Stay here. I’m going to have a look at the main peak.”

He Bang seized his hand and held it for a long moment, then suddenly said: “Zhiguan, tell that Liu whoever not to build a burial site here. I feel something isn’t quite right about this place.”

The mountain and water around them appeared perfectly fine — but He Bang was an inner cultivator, and her senses were always remarkably acute. For some reason a creeping sense of unease had come over her. Rong Chen Zi stroked the top of her head: “All right. I’ll go and take a look. You stay here and behave — I’ll be back soon.”

He Bang gave a nod. Still uneasy, Rong Chen Zi eventually reached up and took from around his own neck a protective amulet of dark sandalwood, which he hung about hers: “Stay alert. Don’t fall asleep. I’ll be back shortly.”

He Bang turned the amulet over in her hands and answered him brightly. Rong Chen Zi picked up the qiankun pouch, turned, and walked toward the main peak, his stride as swift as flight.

He Bang thought it over, and in the end called out again at the top of her lungs: “Zhiguan!”

Rong Chen Zi turned to look at her. She came splashing out of the water toward him, her robe clinging to every inch of her: “I’ll just go with you. Otherwise, what if a monster eats you?”

Rong Chen Zi was torn between laughter and helplessness. Thinking it over, leaving her alone here was also a risk, so he simply brought her along. He was also somewhat concerned about Ye Tian and Cabinet Elder Liu and the others waiting on the mountainside and wanted to go and return quickly: “Let’s go.”

Yet when the two of them had covered the main peak from all directions, they found nothing out of the ordinary. Looking out and down from above, the entire burial aura gathered like a canopy, its color clear and remarkable — a noble formation of fine quality. Yet where was the wrongness?

Rong Chen Zi opened his Celestial Eye and searched the mountain with care. At a hollow on the main peak there was a pool of water, extraordinarily clear and cold. He Bang was delighted with it and splashed about on the bank. Rong Chen Zi looked all around, and still found nothing amiss. When he turned back, he found He Bang had half-shed her clothing and was using a piece of sea silk to dab water and clean the marks the mulberry tree had left on her back.

The new moon was thin as ice. The moonlight was spare. The bared skin that lay beneath it shone with a luminous, jade-like radiance.

Rong Chen Zi walked forward slowly. He took the piece of sea silk and attended to her himself. She seemed to love the spring water greatly, and lay nestled against him, humming softly in contentment. Rong Chen Zi sat beside the pool. Within his sight and beneath his fingers lay only that skin, smooth and yielding as congealed cream. His breathing gradually grew unsteady. Before he knew what he was doing, he had seized He Bang and pressed her beneath him.

He Bang did not resist. Her eyes were like pools of mist. She lifted one leg and slowly dragged it across his waist — as if all the moonlight on the mountain had condensed in her gaze. Rong Chen Zi’s spirit swayed and drifted. Without knowing when it had happened, he had already torn apart the garments that were clinging so tightly to her body. His rough fingers explored the most tender places. He Bang let out a soft sound and squirmed with slight discomfort.

The veins at Rong Chen Zi’s temples throbbed. His eyes were bloodshot. He gripped He Bang’s waist and drove forward in one forceful thrust. He Bang cried out in pain — except for the first time, when Rong Chen Zi had lost his senses, he had always been gentle with her. He Bang sensed something was wrong with him and pushed back hard: “Zhiguan, it hurts!!”

Rong Chen Zi, breathing in ragged gasps, plunged in to the hilt regardless, and then, heedless of her struggling and crying, pounded forward violently hundreds of times. At last, seeing He Bang truly struggling with all her might, he sliced open his own wrist and pressed the wound to her lips as he had done before.

He Bang turned her face away and refused to drink. She was a glutton, yes, but her life mattered more. If she had no mouth left, eating anything in the future would be rather difficult. Enduring the fierce, overwhelming discomfort below, she used the Clarity of Heart technique to cleanse the turbid energy from him.

Yet that turbid energy was thick and substantial as something solid. The instant it made contact with Rong Chen Zi’s blood, it surged even heavier — even the Clarity of Heart technique could not penetrate it.

He Bang’s left arm encircled his neck, her body rocking with his every movement. She forcibly gathered her energy. Her bare hand sliced sharply through the air — and frost began to descend across the entire mountainside, the small pool nearby freezing solid in an instant. The mountain was seized by a sudden convulsion, the frost-locked grass and trees crackling and groaning.

Rong Chen Zi’s consciousness snapped back to clarity at once. Yet a certain part of him was caught inside He Bang’s body, neither moving forward nor withdrawing. He could think of nothing else — he withdrew from her immediately, shame crashing through him — had he not allowed that single thread of desire to stir, no turbid energy could ever have affected him with such force.

The feng shui of this mountain was clearly excellent. So what had gone wrong?

He pulled He Bang upright. Her back was already scraped raw and bleeding, and her garments had been largely torn away by him. He pulled off his own outer robe and draped it across her shoulders. The desire had not yet quieted in his breath: “Let’s leave this place first.”

He Bang was an inner cultivator, with a will of extraordinary strength. At the moment she had cast the frost seal, her soul-sense had scattered outward in all directions, and she seemed to have glimpsed something: “There seems to be something sealed beneath the mountain.” She was still shaken. “Black — enormous black wings. I only caught a shadow.”

“Yes. Since the primordial age, there have been no shortage of fierce beasts in the world. The ancient gods sealed away many of those that were connected to the root veins of heaven and earth yet had been tainted with corrupt energy. There is nothing strange about something being sealed within this mountain.” He held He Bang close and moved rapidly down the slope — he was a cautious man and would not take reckless risks. “But today we have disturbed it, and we are entirely unprepared. It is better to withdraw for now.”

He Bang followed him down the mountain. A moment later she reached out and groped at that still-prominent part of him, the creature once again growing wistful for the exquisite taste of his flesh and blood: “Why don’t we… finish first, then leave?” She slid a glance at the wound on Rong Chen Zi’s wrist and licked her lips, figuring the cut was surely still fresh — if they went at it now, she might manage to drink another mouthful or two.

Rong Chen Zi’s answer was a flat palm on top of her head.