When Cai Zhao returned to the teahouse, Li Yuanmin had already found lodging for the disciples at a familiar small inn. Reportedly, the innkeeper had once worked as a handyman at Taichu Temple.
Standing before this modest inn, Zong Yuzi watched Li Yuanmin enthusiastically welcome the Qingque Sect disciples and even help the attendants carry luggage. He frowned slightly and whispered, “I never expected Taichu Temple’s influence to have diminished so much that it can’t even command respect in Wu’an City, merely two days’ journey away.”
Whether it was the Qingque Sect or the Guangtian Gate, their disciples would typically be treated as honored guests in any city or town within thousands of miles of their sphere of influence. How had it come to this?
Cai Zhao smiled silently and replied calmly, “Third Senior Brother, you’ve misunderstood. Even if Taichu Temple has fallen on hard times, it would still command respect in Wu’an City. I think Uncle Li Yuanmin, though seemingly impulsive and energetic, is kind-hearted and doesn’t want to impose on others, especially disturbing civilians in the middle of the night.”
Song Yuzhi’s brow furrowed. “Where did you go earlier? You look like you’ve been in a fight.”
Lady Cai calmly smoothed her slightly disheveled hair and said, “I encountered a wild cat that insisted on fighting me for the right of way. In the end, I won it over with kindness.” Without waiting for Song Yuzhi to accept this far-fetched explanation, she walked straight into the inn.
After spending an uncomfortable night in the shabby, dimly lit inn, the exhausted group slept until noon.
Accustomed to comfort, Dai Fengchi and Qi Lingbo found it unbearable and clamored to change inns. Ding Zhuo and Fan Xingjia, rubbing their sore shoulders, silently agreed—they weren’t picky, but their bodies had grown accustomed to refined and comfortable accommodations.
Song Yuzhi was the first to notice Cai Zhao’s absence. Upon asking the inn attendant, he learned that she had left early in the morning, leaving word that she was revisiting the Chang family ruins and would return soon. Song Yuzhi glanced at the Qingque Sect disciples discussing where to move, then quietly slipped out of the inn.
After traversing the rugged mountain path through the silent, charred Chang family fortress, Song Yuzhi found Cai Zhao in the deserted graveyard behind the mountain.
Cai Zhao had been searching around the graveyard for an unknown length of time. Her clothes were wrinkled, and her face was pale.
This time, Song Yuzhi asked no questions. He silently spread oil paper on a flat rock and carefully arranged the food he had bought in town: a small pot of warm millet porridge, savory meat dumplings, and crisp pickled vegetables in sesame oil.
Having been raised in luxury, it was his first time serving someone else, and he fumbled, nearly spilling the porridge.
Cai Zhao, who had left on an empty stomach that morning, was famished. She rolled up her sleeves and began eating, laughing between bites, “I thought Third Senior Brother would scold me for going out alone. I didn’t expect you to be so understanding today.”
Song Yuzhi replied matter-of-factly, “I know that even if Xiaoxiao encountered the Devil Cult, she would be fine.”
Cai Zhao didn’t respond to this comment. Instead, she took a bite of the meat-topped dumpling and said, “I never thought Third Senior Brother would let me eat and drink next to a graveyard. I remember when we were on our way to Youming Huang, you wouldn’t even settle for a table with a wobbly leg.”
Song Yuzhi fell silent. “…I shouldn’t have only thought of myself without considering others. I was tired and hungry then, but I still insisted on finding a proper place to dine. It was truly inappropriate.”
Song Yuzhi, the third young master of Guangtian Gate, had been raised like a precious jade tree since childhood. His talents far surpassed his peers, and he was pampered from head to toe. Although his parents and master had high expectations for him, they always indulged his preferences in daily life. From a young age, others had always accommodated his habits; he never needed to consider anyone else’s preferences.
It wasn’t until he repeatedly encountered resistance from Cai Zhao that he gradually awakened to this realization.
From daily care to the matter of their engagement, he fell far short of Mu Qing’an. No wonder the girl had no attachment to him.
Compared to the conflicted pain and reluctance in her eyes when mentioning Mu Qing’an, her gaze toward him, even when smiling, was rational, clear, and devoid of any romantic notions.
Although Song Yuzhi had no experience in love, he knew this situation was far from ideal. Even if his late mother’s arrangements were flawless, emotions couldn’t be calculated logically. If Cai Zhao truly despised him, even the grandest plans would be useless.
He pressed his lips together and said, “After we set out today, I sent a pigeon to my father, asking him to request that our master cancel the engagement.”
Cai Zhao ignored this comment and continued eating.
Song Yuzhi looked around and asked, “Is there anything strange about the Chang family graveyard? Did Uncle Cai tell you something?”
Before Cai Zhao could answer, he added, “If it’s inconvenient for you to say, you don’t have to.”
Cai Zhao smiled, “There’s nothing I can’t say. Father said that when he came here to investigate the clues about the Chang family’s extinction, he felt something was amiss in the back mountain graveyard. I’ve been searching for half a day and found nothing. Perhaps Father was overthinking it.”
Song Yuzhi stood up and walked around in a circle.
The graveyard covered about half a mile, with tombstones arranged in rows according to the years of death, starting from the back.
Apart from the ancestral graves that couldn’t be moved, the earliest tombstones belonged to Chang Haosheng’s parents. They had already been old and weak when the Chang family fortress was built, and they passed away shortly after, being buried here.
Next was Chang Haosheng’s uncle, who died in the battle against Youming Huang. Beside him lay his wife, who died of illness a year later, and nearby were small tombstones for their two children who died young.
Further down were the graves of Chang Haosheng’s three older cousins.
In their early years, they had all been formidable figures roaming the jianghu. Having received kindness from the old Chang patriarch, they later retired to the Chang family. Chang Haosheng had addressed them as uncles since childhood.
Adjacent to these were several graves of Chang family servants and disciples who had died protecting the family.
The newest grave belonged to Chang Haosheng’s wife, Madam Xue.
Song Yuzhi observed and found no signs of excavation on any of the graves. They were all arranged according to generational order, and the tombstones were uniformly neat. He couldn’t see anything unusual.
“When the Devil Cult massacred the Chang family fortress, they focused on killing everyone and burning everything down. They didn’t bother with this graveyard, which is why it’s still intact,” Cai Zhao said, sipping her hot porridge. She sighed, “There are no leads now. Unless we dig up the graves, I don’t see how we’ll find anything strange.”
Song Yuzhi turned and said, “In that case, I’d better go down the mountain and inquire about the best bonesetter’s clinic.”
“What?” Cai Zhao asked, confused.
“If your father hears about this idea, he’ll break your legs. As your senior brother, I may not have many skills, but I can at least find you a good clinic.”
Cai Zhao laughed heartily, “Third Senior Brother, you’ve learned to joke too!”
Song Yuzhi sat across from her, remarking, “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you laugh so freely, Junior Sister.”
Cai Zhao set down the porridge pot and sighed softly, “Why do people have to grow up? Growing up brings so many worries.”
Song Yuzhi looked puzzled. “On our way to Youming Huang, we passed a shop. I remember you saying that no matter how well you hid your romance novels as a child, your mother always found and confiscated them, which troubled you greatly.”
Cai Zhao burst into laughter, her voice as clear and joyful as a child’s. “I never imagined that someone as stiff and dull as Third Senior Brother would recognize those novels at a glance. It gave me quite a shock.”
In that shop, while she was trying to discreetly approach the shelves, Song Yuzhi had surprised her by identifying the books just by glancing at their covers:
“Oh, they even have ‘Red Apricot on the Wall Returns Late at Night.’ This is an old edition handcrafted by Miao Bi Ke, quite rare.”
“This must be ‘Three Thousand Wonders in the Golden Tower,’ right? It should be a set of eight volumes, but unfortunately, two are missing here.”
“‘The Charming Widow’s Tale’ is incomplete. The full version couldn’t be this thin.”
Back then, he had looked confused and asked, “Why hide them? I have plenty of these. If you like them, Junior Sister Zhao, I can send you some.” Since he was young, his father and brothers had thoughtfully provided him with various educational materials.
At the time, Cai Zhao had been embarrassed. She wanted the books but couldn’t bring herself to say so. After they returned, Song Yuzhi completely forgot about it, and she felt too awkward to ask.
Now, Song Yuzhi regretted not sending her a box of novels instead of those indirect literary excerpts. He saw nothing wrong with these books; at the time, he had been focused solely on cultivation, free from distractions, and burdened with a troublesome fiancée. He had merely flipped through them before setting them aside.
Looking at Song Yuzhi’s nonchalant attitude, Cai Zhao suddenly thought of another person.
That person strongly disapproved of her reading so much “nonsense” and dreamed of burning down all the improper bookshops in the world. If he knew she had read so many romance novels, he would surely be furious.
After a while, Song Yuzhi said softly, “Without worries, how can one appreciate the joy of contentment?”
Cai Zhao was silent for a moment before replying, “Senior Brother speaks wisely.”
After finishing their meal, they clumsily packed up the oil paper.
Cai Zhao stood up. “Let’s go down the mountain. My father was so focused on finding the culprits behind Hero Chang’s family massacre that he might have been overthinking things.”
Song Yuzhi agreed, “At that time, Nie Zhe was still in control of the Devil Cult, and his henchmen must have carried out the act. Now that the new cult leader has taken over, he will surely deal with them. Although, regrettably, we can’t personally avenge Hero Chang’s family, at least their blood debt has been settled.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Cai Zhao murmured, gazing at the sky. “He won’t show any mercy.”
Song Yuzhi knew who the girl was thinking about but said nothing.
When they reached the bottom of the mountain, they discovered that Li Yuanmin had already taken the Qingque Sect disciples to the largest and most luxurious inn in Wu’an City, with a grand façade of seven or eight doors.
As Song Yuzhi and Cai Zhao arrived, the attendants were busy carrying luggage.
Seeing her fiancé return with Cai Zhao, Qi Lingbo shot them a cold glance and turned away with a huff.
Dai Fengchi wanted to make a snide remark, but Fan Xingjia held him back, saying, “Second Senior Brother, let it go. Lingbo has been inseparable from you for years. How could she fare well in Zhao’s words?”
Dai Fengchi had no choice but to keep quiet.
At this moment, the plump innkeeper approached with an ingratiating smile. “Our humble inn has plenty of clean rooms for the distinguished guests. However, for the two ladies… well, we have two quiet and elegant boudoirs, perfect for female guests. They’re a bit pricier, but most suitable. Unfortunately, one is currently under renovation. Would the two ladies mind sharing a room?”
Ding Zhuo asked curiously, “What’s the difference between regular rooms and boudoirs? Can’t our junior sisters stay in regular rooms?”
The innkeeper explained professionally and tactfully, “Young sir, you may not know, but young ladies are delicate. They need convenience for daily washing, bathing, and dressing. It’s fine for a day or two, but for longer stays, it’s better to be comfortable—each boudoir has its private bathroom.”
Qi Lingbo, who had been complaining about various inconveniences, brightened at this.
Dai Fengchi immediately said, “Lingbo has always been delicate. She’s suffered a lot on this journey and should naturally stay in the boudoir.”
Song Yuzhi frowned. “Since when has Junior Sister Lingbo been delicate? Zhao is even younger than her. Hasn’t she suffered on the journey too? They might as well share a room…”
“I refuse to share a room with her!” Qi Lingbo nearly jumped up.
Cai Zhao didn’t want to share either.
Just then, an attendant reminded the innkeeper, “Boss, isn’t there another room in the back?”
The innkeeper suddenly remembered. “Oh my, how forgetful of me! There’s another newly renovated boudoir on the second floor of the west wing in the backyard. It’s a bit secluded, and the furnishings are slightly simpler…”
Cai Zhao interrupted him with a smile. “That’s fine. I’ll stay there.” She glanced at the others. “Senior Sister Lingbo is precious; I should always yield to her.”
She pointed at two boxes with begonia leaf patterns on the ground and told the attendant, “This one and that one, please carry them for me.” Without waiting for her fellow disciples’ reactions, she headed briskly toward the backyard.
Crossing the courtyard and circling the back garden, Cai Zhao followed the attendant’s directions to a two-story building. The ground floor was a rough wooden room for storing miscellaneous items, while the second floor housed an exquisite three-room boudoir.
As an aspiring innkeeper herself, Miss Cai had some insights into inn management. She vaguely felt that the layout of this building was a bit strange, neither efficient nor cost-effective. But she was too tired to think much about it at the moment.
Climbing the stairs to the second floor, Cai Zhao found the room already prepared with tea, snacks, a small charcoal stove, fresh bedding, and a steaming bathtub in the private bathroom. Various bamboo utensils gleamed with new lacquer.
Finally, the attendant brought in a food warmer and produced a bowl of fragrant wonton soup—beneath the rich, clear chicken broth, the wonton wrappers were thin as gossamer, revealing tender pink shrimp and meat filling inside.
Naturally, there was a sprinkle of bright green scallions on top.
After everyone left and the door was closed, Cai Zhao sat at the table, staring at the bowl of wontons for a long time.
She sighed resignedly, “You can come out now.”