“Most of my injuries were sustained in life. You needn’t overthink it.”

Beneath his clothing, skin slowly cracked. The countless sword and blade wounds all over his body dampened his garments. Xu Hexue tightened his sleeves as much as possible, not wanting her to see more.

He had no flesh and blood body. The wounds on his body and the blood that flowed were actually concrete manifestations of soul damage—like a living person bearing wounds all over, bleeding deep red blood. But in reality, that blood was his diminishing soul-fire.

As long as he used mystical arts in the mortal world, then whether injuries sustained in life or after death, all would become punishments that tormented him.

But these things—Xu Hexue did not wish to tell her.

“But helping me truly causes you great suffering.” Though he often appeared frail and sickly, Ni Su could still distinguish his current condition from before.

No wonder—from the rainbow bridge to this inn, he had walked very slowly, much slower than usual.

“Though I know medicine, it’s useless for you.” Ni Su crouched down. Knowing he didn’t want her to touch him, she simply placed her hands on the bed’s edge. “Tell me—how can I help you?”

Xu Hexue lowered his eyelids, watching Ni Su lean against his bedside. Behind her, several lamp candles burned together, bright and warm light edging her hair bun with a layer of pale golden down.

“Please light another lamp.”

He said.

“Alright.” Hearing this, Ni Su immediately stood and returned to the table to add another lamp candle. She steadied the candlestick and turned back to see Xu Hexue supporting himself with one hand on the bed post, slowly sitting up.

He was looking at the window again.

Ni Su followed his gaze and turned. By the lattice window, thread-like silver light coiled around a particle of soul-fire.

“Ni Su.”

Behind her came his weak voice: “Found it.”

In Yunjing, night rain fell lightly, not diminishing the night market’s splendor. Under felt canopies sat many seeking midnight snacks and leisurely conversation. By the river, the entertainment quarters were brilliantly lit, layer upon layer of lamp shadows swaying on the Yunxiang River. Night boats hung with lanterns drifted slowly beneath bridge arches.

Too many people filled the streets. Moreover, beneath the Son of Heaven’s feet, riding horses at night was forbidden. Ni Su ran through the crowd, rain as soft as silk lightly brushing her cheeks. How many pairs of strange eyes briefly paused on her—she was completely unaware, only knowing to follow that particle of soul-fire invisible to others.

Yunjing’s city gate loomed like a mountain silhouette in the dim light. Ni Su watched helplessly as that soul-fire swept over the city wall. She suddenly stopped, looking at the tightly closed gate and the rigidly postured city guards in cold armor standing before it.

A breeze blew the rain threads slanting. Thunder rumbled in the distant sky. Ni Su felt an arm encircle her waist. She looked up to see a person’s profile.

Thick, long eyelashes cast a beautiful shadow beneath his eyelids. Ni Su held the lantern in her hand. Instantly riding the wind upward, she silently swept with him above the city wall.

The lamp shadow swayed lightly overhead. The city guards at the gate and on the walls almost simultaneously looked up, seeing only the night sky where rain and mist grew thicker.

Wind and rain struck her face. Ni Su saw luminescent dust floating within, mixed together. She immediately reached to pull his sleeve: “Let’s go down quickly.”

But just as the words fell, Xu Hexue seemed to lose strength, losing support, and fell with her toward the forest canopy below.

The rain made a rustling sound. The expected pain didn’t come. Ni Su opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was black robes embroidered with silver crane patterns. She lay in someone’s embrace.

It was an embrace a hundred times colder than the rain hitting her cheeks.

“Xu Ziling, are you alright?” Ni Su immediately stood up.

Xu Hexue shook his head. His slender fingers lifted slightly. Ni Su followed his pointing direction and discovered that floating particle of soul-fire.

“Why would my brother be outside Yunjing City?”

Ni Su’s heart grew increasingly uneasy, and she felt the situation even stranger.

“Follow it, and we’ll know.”

Xu Hexue supported himself on a tree trunk and rose. Rainwater from the pine branches dripped down, flowing over his fingers.

The last bit of flame in the lantern was doused by rainwater. Ni Su instinctively looked up at his eyes—as expected, pitch black and hollow.

Ni Su reached out but suddenly stopped, asking softly: “May I touch you?”

She remembered the silent resistance he had shown earlier at the inn.

Xu Hexue turned his face toward where her voice came from, as if looking at her. Rain threads brushed past. He half-lowered his eyelids and slowly extended his hand.

Ni Su looked at his outstretched hand and grasped it without hesitation.

Rainwater dripped through the gap between their fingers. Ni Su supported him as they followed the soul-fire forward. Though without lantern light, the luminescent dust floating from Xu Hexue’s body was like pale moonlight, allowing her barely enough vision.

In the mountains, the rain grew heavier. Thunder crashed with a tremendous roar.

In the ruined Buddhist temple, a small beggar sleeping against the wall roots suddenly jerked awake. Though it was still late autumn and the season remained hot, having been drenched by rain in his dreams, the beggar woke shivering in his tattered clothes.

Someone in the temple had lit a candle—just that small half-stub burning. The small beggar looked up. Rainwater came down through the broken tile gaps onto his face.

Rustling sounds came from somewhere. The small beggar looked over and saw his grandfather holding that half candle stub, examining something carefully by the Buddha statue.

“Grandpa, what are you looking at?”

The small beggar wiped the rainwater from his face.

The white-haired old beggar leaned forward and beckoned to him: “Boy, come look at this Bodhisattva’s back.”

The small beggar, not understanding, climbed out of the straw pile. Rainwater poured chaotically through the broken tile gaps, making the ground wet and slippery. With no shoes on his feet, he carefully stepped through puddles, muttering: “The Bodhisattvas in these mountains were all made from clay by poor wretches like us. What’s there to see…”

Before he finished speaking, the small beggar heard approaching footsteps growing closer. The grandfather and grandson turned around at once, only to see through the rain and mist at the mountain temple entrance, lightning flashed brilliantly, illuminating a woman’s features.

Her plum-green silk skirt was stained with mud. Rain pearls dripped from several strands of fine hair at her temples. Her gaze first fell on the beggar grandfather and grandson in the temple, but quickly moved away. She lifted her skirt and entered, looking around in all directions.

The grandfather and grandson’s gazes also couldn’t help but follow her.

The old beggar was caught off guard and burned by candle wax. He hissed. Seeing the woman look at him again, he was baffled and asked: “Miss, what are you doing?”

“When did you arrive here? Have you encountered a young man?”

Ni Su’s shoes were soaked through, her footsteps heavy with splashing water.

“This isn’t a nice place to stay. Except for us grandfather and grandson, who would come to a place where you can’t even avoid the rain?” The small beggar spoke first.

This truly was a place where rain couldn’t be avoided.

Open on all sides, damp and waterlogged.

But Ni Su had followed that soul-fire particle here. If her brother Ni Qinglan wasn’t here, then why would the soul-fire drift to this place?

Lightning flashed and thunder crashed, briefly illuminating beneath the broken eaves. The lightning’s cold light collided with the warm candlelight carefully protected by the old beggar. Ni Su saw that soul-fire particle again.

Her gaze followed it as she quickly walked behind that clay Bodhisattva statue.

The soul-fire disappeared.

Rainwater pounded the broken tiles with a pattering sound.

Ni Su looked around hastily, but this Buddhist temple was only so large—besides remnant walls, there were only broken windows. Cold light slanted down across her face. Ni Su’s entire body went rigid and cold. She whirled around sharply.

Light and shadow cut like a blade across the Bodhisattva’s painted, mottled shoulders and neck.

Its broad back was a different clay color from other parts—like new mud whose moisture hadn’t yet dried.

The beggar grandfather and grandson looked at each other in bewilderment. Just as they stood confused, they saw the young woman suddenly pick up bricks and stones from the ground and forcefully hurl them at the Bodhisattva’s back.

“What are you doing? You mustn’t disrespect the Bodhisattva!” The old beggar was so frightened he dropped his candle stub.

Ni Su turned a deaf ear, only continuing to smash with all her strength.

The dust choked her until she couldn’t help coughing. The brick suddenly broke through the Bodhisattva’s entire back. Chunks of clay fell down. The old beggar suddenly lost his voice: “Inside the Bodhisattva is actually hollow…”

In this moment, something wrapped tightly in black cloth fell heavily to the ground from inside, also cutting off the old beggar’s latter half-sentence.

In the damp rainwater, the putrid smell became increasingly obvious.

Lightning came frequently. The small beggar focused his eyes and saw beneath the black cloth—a half-decomposed hand exposed. He was so frightened his eyes widened as he screamed.

The old beggar hurriedly covered his grandson’s eyes. Turning back, he saw that deathly pale young woman actually take two steps forward, bend down, and reach out her hand.

Her hand trembled uncontrollably.

It stopped in mid-air for a moment, then suddenly her fingers clenched tight. With force, she completely pulled away that black cloth.

Thunder rolled and rolled. Heavy rain fell like a waterfall.

The old beggar took one look and immediately turned away, nearly retching.

The corpse on the ground was unrecognizable, but Ni Su recognized the silver hairpin in his topknot, recognized the clothing his mother had personally sewn before he departed.

A roaring sound filled her head. Ni Su’s lips parted slightly, trembling violently, unable to make a single sound.

The beggar grandfather and grandson were badly frightened. At this point, they couldn’t care about rain or no rain. One in front and one behind, they hurriedly ran out of the temple entrance.

The night rain sounds were heavy, dripping on all sides.

Ni Su’s knees went soft as she collapsed to the ground.

“Elder Brother…”

Tears fell in clusters. Ni Su’s hands pressed into the muddy water. “Elder Brother…”

Xu Hexue, supporting himself on the door frame, slowly felt his way forward. His form was very faint—so faint that the beggar grandfather and grandson running past him moments ago hadn’t detected his existence at all.

“Ni Su?”

He called softly.

A candle stub still burned in the temple, but that light didn’t belong to him. His vision remained pitch black. He couldn’t hear Ni Su’s response, only her heavy sobbing, vaguely calling out “Elder Brother” repeatedly.

Night rain interwove with her helpless cries.

Xu Hexue followed the sound and felt his way forward, bit by bit moving to her side.

He reached out tentatively, gradually moving downward, patiently searching until he touched her shoulders and back, soaking his hand with rain.

She was completely drenched.

Xu Hexue’s fingers found the ties and undid the dark cloak from his body. Silently bending down, he gently draped it over her.