After a brief pause, Jun Wu asked, "...Where is Qi Ying?"
Xie Lian looked around, and indeed, there wasn't a shadow of that young martial god to be seen. The heavens had been plagued with nonstop incidents recently, and perhaps that was why the Palace of Ling Wen was so busy, its wheels spinning so furiously that it was about to take flight.
Ling Wen had a few more dark circles under her eyes as she explained Quan Yizhen's absence.
"It's been a long time since Qi Ying has been to one of these meetings. We've never been able to connect with him."
Some heavenly officials clicked their tongues.
"Where did that brat run off to?"
"Not here again? I'm rather envious that he's managed to avoid all these meetings."
"Since we do not know Qi Ying's whereabouts, we will inform you once he is located and allow the two of you to coordinate," Jun Wu said.
Xie Lian inclined his head in acknowledgment. "Yes, My Lord."
It was now autumn in the Mortal Realm, and the weather was chilly—as it was inside Puqi Shrine. Although Xie Lian wore just one layer of clothing, he didn't feel the cold.
However, on the way home, he used the money he made from collecting scraps to buy two new sets of robes for Lang Ying.
Hua Cheng had returned to Ghost City, and Qi Rong had run off with Guzi in tow, so only Lang Ying was left in Puqi Shrine at present. It had felt so cramped for a while, but now it was suddenly deserted. As he approached the shrine, Xie Lian could see Lang Ying silently sweeping the fallen golden leaves away from the entrance and raking them into a pile.
Lang Ying used to slouch, perpetually coiled in on himself in fear and anxiety. Maybe it was all in Xie Lian's mind, but he seemed to stand taller and straighter now, and he finally looked the part of a cheerful boy. Xie Lian couldn't help but feel heartened. He went over and took the broom from him, and he was just about to bring him inside when the villagers—who had been hiding in wait for some time— ambushed him. Aunties and uncles and sisters both young and old, they all clamored around him.
"Daozhang, you're back!"
"Did you collect scraps in town again? Working hard, working hard… So, um, how come we haven't seen Xiao-Hua lately?"
"Yeah, yeah, we haven't seen him for days! We rather miss the lad."
"..." Xie Lian smiled awkwardly. "Xiao…Hua went back home."
"Huh?" The village chief was puzzled. "Which home? I thought this was Xiao-Hua's home? Hasn't he settled in with you?!"
"No, no," Xie Lian replied. "He only came here to play.
Now that we're both busy, we parted ways."
Hua Cheng had hounded him for answers that night, but Xie Lian was stubbornly adamant that they'd only had a fight.
And now that Mount T onglu had reopened, Hua Cheng had more on his plate. If a new Supreme Ghost King really emerged, it would mean an assault on all three realms.
Hua Cheng and Black Water… Though one was flashy and the other low profile, they both had considerable moral character. They more or less knew their place and had a sense of propriety. But there was no telling what kind of creature would emerge this time. It would be troublesome if Mount T onglu birthed a madman like Qi Rong who would fight them for portions of their domains. Thus, Xie Lian used "troubled times" as his excuse and said that they had better not see each other for the time being to focus on their respective duties. And with that, they very amiably bid each other farewell.
It seemed sudden and cold, like he'd turned his back on a friend. But Xie Lian really didn't know what else to do.
He had no confidence that he could hide his feelings right now.
Behind him, Lang Ying suddenly said, "Fire."
"...?"
Only then did Xie Lian realize that the pot and spatula had somehow found their way into his hand while he was lost in thought, and he'd ruined all the meat and vegetables he'd just brought back to Puqi Shrine. The fire under the pot was almost two meters high, nearly scorching the ceiling, and Xie Lian hastily put out the flames with a slap of his palm.
However, he slapped too hard and the entire stove collapsed.
After the rumbling ceased, Xie Lian stood there dumbfounded with the pot in hand, at a loss for what to do. It was just about mealtime, and the villagers were outside their homes, happily eating from massive bowls. Surprised by the ruckus, they all came around again.
"What happened, what happened?! Daozhang, did your shrine blow up again?!"
Xie Lian quickly opened the window, coughing as he did.
"It's nothing, it's nothing! Cough cough cough cough…" The village chief came over to take a look. "Fer heaven's sake, this is an absolute tragedy! Daozhang, I think you'd better call Xiao-Hua back."
Wordless for a moment, Xie Lian said, "It's all right. After all…he's not from my household."
By the time he snapped out of it, Lang Ying had already cleaned up the mess on the ground. A plate of something vibrantly red and purple had also made it to the table; it was a dish Xie Lian had randomly prepared while he was zoning out. If his last creation was called Love for All Seasons Stew, then this should be called Riot of Colors Stir-Fry. But other than Hua Cheng, there was probably no one on earth who could swallow the stuff. Not even Xie Lian himself could bear the sight of it, and he turned around to wash the pot, rubbing his forehead.
"Forget it, don't eat it. Throw it away."
Yet after he finished washing the pot and turned around, he saw that Lang Ying had taken the plate and silently eaten the food. Stunned, Xie Lian hurried over to stop him.
"...Heavens, are you all right?" he asked, holding him by the shoulders. "Do you feel bad anywhere?"
Lang Ying shook his head. Since his face was thoroughly covered in bandages, his expression was hidden. Even Qi Rong and Black Water had lost their minds when they ate his cooking, but Lang Ying could actually handle it… Had he really been that starving, or had he received an unexpected increase in strength and power? Xie Lian managed a chuckle at his own joke. After cleaning up, he went to bed.
There were two mats in Puqi Shrine, one for each person. When Xie Lian remembered that he and Hua Cheng had lain together upon the mat beneath him, he couldn't sleep a wink. His eyes were wide open, but he didn't dare to toss and turn lest he rouse Lang Ying.
After much internal struggle, just when he thought he might as well get up and go outside for some air, he heard the window creak. Someone softly pushed open the wooden frame and hopped inside.
Xie Lian had his back to the window. He lay there on his side, shocked.
Who was senseless enough to try to steal from Puqi Shrine? It was pointless work with no payoff!
The intruder was very light on his feet and extremely skilled; no one would've noticed him unless they had Xie Lian's extraordinarily sharp senses. After he'd hopped in, he ran straight for the donation box. Xie Lian immediately remembered that the donation box had been full of gold bars earlier; was this person here for the gold? But Xie Lian had long since brought those gold bars to the Upper Court and given them to Ling Wen, who he asked to find their real owner. Listening attentively, Xie Lian realized the person wasn't trying to break the lock—he was stuffing things into the donation box, one after the other!
After that individual finished his work, he headed over to the window to leave. Xie Lian mentally plotted his next course of action—he had a mind to follow after this person once he left to see who he was and where he was going. But in an unexpected turn of events, the person spotted the plates of food on the altar table when he passed by.
Apparently he was hungry, so he didn't think twice before stuffing several bites of Riot of Colors Stir-Fry into his mouth.
THUD! A moment later, he was passed out on the ground.
Xie Lian immediately turned over and sat up. That's saved me some trouble!
He lit a lamp to inspect his catch. A purple-faced figure lay flat on the ground. Xie Lian rushed to the rescue and poured a copious amount of water down the person's throat, and soon he began to slowly come around.
The first thing he uttered when he woke was, "What the hell was that?!"
Xie Lian pretended not to hear that comment. "Your Highness Qi Ying, you are far too reckless," he chided earnestly. "Stuffing whatever you find in your mouth without knowing what it is."
The young man had a straight nose, a defined brow, and a head full of curly black hair. Who could it be besides the Martial God of the West, Quan Yizhen?
He glared at Xie Lian. "How could I expect someone to poison their own food, offered in their own shrine?"
"..." Xie Lian rubbed his forehead. He opened the donation box and discovered that it was filled to the brim with gold bars once more. "Was it you who filled the box last time too?"
Quan Yizhen nodded.
"Why are you giving me this?" Xie Lian asked.
"Because I have a lot of it," Quan Yizhen replied.
"..."
Truth be told, even if Quan Yizhen wouldn't admit it, Xie Lian could guess that this generosity had most likely been prompted by the incident at the Mid-Autumn Banquet when he flung a chopstick to cut down the stage curtains.
"T ake these back with you. I won't accept a reward for not doing anything," Xie Lian said.
Quan Yizhen didn't reply and was very obviously not listening. Xie Lian didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"He's telling you to take those away," Lang Ying coldly interjected.
When had he gotten up? Xie Lian gazed back at him, feeling strange. Lang Ying usually made himself invisible, desperately trying to shrink into the ground. Why was he saying so much unprompted today, and in such a shockingly unfriendly tone? But he didn't dwell on it.
Failing all else, Xie Lian figured he could give the box to Ling Wen and have her shove it back on Quan Yizhen, so he straightened his expression.
"Your Highness, you've come just in time. You didn't attend the meeting at the Palace of Divine Might today, but the Heavenly Emperor has given us a mission. Have you seen the scroll? Never mind, it's all right, I know you haven't looked through it. I've reviewed it, anyhow. We'll be working as a team, and the creature we're responsible for is called the Brocade Immortal."
The Venerable of Empty Words was called "venerable" because people didn't dare to call it a rogue, a hellion, or an annoying devil so directly; it was forced praise. So then, why was the Brocade Immortal called an "immortal"? That was because, according to tales, the creature once had the potential to become a god.
As the story goes, there was once a young man in some ancient kingdom many centuries ago. Although he was born half-witted, his intelligence no better than that of a six-year-old child, his performance on the battlefield was a different story. His martial skills were extraordinary, and he was also brave and kind. His homeland was hanging on by a thread, surviving solely because he slaved away on the front lines to charge and shatter the enemy formation whenever they collided with another kingdom in battle. But because he was mentally ill and had no family, the military achievements that he put his life on the line for were claimed by others, and he was left penniless. No one was willing to marry their daughters to such a man, and very few girls were willing to come close. The young man was also stupid in this field, since he had never once interacted with girls. He didn't even have the guts to speak to them.
However, this man possessed the potential to ascend. It should have only taken a few more years of battle for him to ascend to the heavens, so it didn't matter if no girls liked him. But the sad thing was, he fell in love with a girl, and he fell deeply.
On his birthday, the girl gifted him a brocade robe she had personally sewn.
One could call it a brocade robe, but it was extremely bizarre and looked more like a horrific pocket of cloth. This was the first time in the young man's life that he had received a gift from a girl he loved, so he was filled with utter joy. Coupled with his natural stupidity, he didn't notice anything strange as he eagerly pulled the brocade "robe" over his body.
There weren't any sleeves for his arms to go through, so he asked his beloved girl, "How come my arms can't stretch out?"
The girl smiled cheerfully. "This is my first time sewing, so I'm not very skilled. But it won't be a problem if you don't have arms."
So the young man chopped off the arms he used to wield weapons. Now, the robe fit.
However, it wasn't enough. He asked the girl again, "How come my legs can't stretch out?"
The girl replied, "That won't be a problem if you don't have legs."
So the young man asked someone to chop off his legs as well.
Finally, he asked the girl, "How come my head can't peek out?"
It was easy to imagine the conclusion.
Xie Lian had originally assumed the Brocade Immortal was a nefarious creature wearing a brocade robe; who would've thought it was actually the robe itself? When Mount T onglu reopened and agitated millions of ghosts, someone had stolen the robe. It had become an exceedingly vicious and formidable spiritual weapon after it was soaked in that young man's infatuated blood. It had changed hands among nefarious beings over the centuries, and all of them had used it to cause harm.
Thus, let this tale serve as a warning to never accept any old, used clothing from unknown origins. If a stranger wants to gift you a brocade robe as you walk the streets at night, do not accept it—for if you wear that robe, your mind will be befuddled; trapped in a trance, you will become a pig for the slaughter, and your blood will be sucked dry.
Of course, this was only a myth, and a rather outlandish one at that. The story could have easily been invented by someone who extrapolated from the brocade robe's unique nature. Nevertheless, the Brocade Immortal had to be stopped, and they could not allow it to reach Mount T onglu.
"Your Highness Qi Ying? Your Highness? Are you listening?"
Xie Lian reached out and waved his hand in front of Quan Yizhen. Quan Yizhen seemed to have spaced out, and only then did his spirit return to this body.
"Oh."
It would appear he wasn't listening, but it wasn't Xie Lian's place to say much about that kind of behavior. Instead, he said, "So our current main priority is to find the brocade robe, I suppose? Its original form is…" "A sleeveless, headless, sack-like robe stained with blood," Quan Yizhen finished the statement.
Xie Lian chuckled. "So you do know. And I thought you didn't read the scroll. But this robe is an evil object. It's also an extremely magical one with thousands of forms. There are millions of articles of clothing in the world, and searching for this one item is like looking for a needle in a haystack."
"Oh," Quan Yizhen said. "Then what do we do?"
"Nefarious creatures who get their hands on the robe will usually disguise themselves as merchants and beseech people on busy streets to buy or exchange old clothes for new," Xie Lian explained. "But that hasn't been a normal custom for centuries; it'd be rather strange if anyone tried it nowadays. The habits of nefarious creatures don't change easily or quickly, so let's go into town and see if we can catch wind of anything like that happening."
Ghosts paid more attention to these sorts of things than mortals, and the Ghost Realm's grapevine would be better informed. In other words, asking Hua Cheng directly would surely save a lot of trouble. But Xie Lian had only just told him that they shouldn't meet for a while, and it wouldn't look good to go back on his word the moment he needed something. Besides, the Brocade Immortal had only just been stolen, so the thief wouldn't be so quick to bring it out and cause harm.
Quan Yizhen nodded, rose to his feet, and followed him for a couple of steps. Xie Lian noticed that Lang Ying followed suit.
"You stay here," he told him.
Lang Ying shook his head. Before Xie Lian could say any more, there was a sudden thud! behind him. Quan Yizhen had collapsed again.
Xie Lian whirled around. "What happened?"
Shades of purple colored Quan Yizhen's face. He tried holding it in, but in the end, he couldn't. He flipped over, clambered to all fours, and puked all over the floor.
"..."
After vomiting, Quan Yizhen rolled over to face the ceiling, his soul leaving his body through his mouth.
"Qi Ying…can you still come along?" Xie Lian asked carefully.
Quan Yizhen's limbs were stretched out like a starfish.
"Not…anymore."
"..."
Xie Lian had to woefully drag Quan Yizhen—who had lost all will to fight—over to a corner and cover him with a blanket to let him recover for a while.
It took until the next day for Quan Yizhen to look slightly better, but Xie Lian didn't dare let him eat anything from the shrine. He asked for some congee from the village chief's home and brought it back to fill the others' stomachs. Quan Yizhen sat in the spot Hua Cheng usually occupied, and for some reason, Lang Ying kept staring at him in a very unfriendly manner.
Xie Lian placed the congee in front of both of them and unconsciously murmured, "San Lang…" Before the words fully left his lips, the two turned to look at him. Xie Lian froze, and only then did he realize what he had blurted. He softly cleared his throat.
"Please continue."
While the two were sitting at the altar table eating their congee, Xie Lian took an axe and headed out the door. As he chopped wood, he thought back on the clues the scroll had provided.
The Brocade Immortal was imprisoned behind an extremely powerful seal in a T emple of Divine Might. The temple always has maximum security and is guarded by innumerable martial experts. A simple agitation of ghosts shouldn't have allowed it to escape on its own. Someone must have spotted an opportunity and stole it amidst the chaos… In the past, Hua Cheng was the one who always chopped the wood. Now that Xie Lian was doing it himself, for some reason it didn't feel like his wood was chopped as nicely as Hua Cheng's.
Quan Yizhen miserably drank a few mouthfuls of watery congee, then tumbled over to sleep once more inside Puqi Shrine. Lang Ying, on the other hand, came outside looking to help.
"There's no need. San…Lang Ying, why don't you heat up some water and take a bath?"
Now that he thought about it, he didn't think Lang Ying had bathed in a while. Ghosts certainly wouldn't have to worry about skin oils and sweat, but surely there would be dirt to wash away after hanging around outside all day. Still, he couldn't say it straightforwardly to save the boy's self-esteem.
Lang Ying seemed startled into speechlessness, but Xie Lian had already carried a bundle of logs inside to heat the water.
"I sold some scraps in town yesterday and bought you two sets of autumn clothes. Once you're done bathing, why don't you see if they fit you?"
Lang Ying was just putting on the new robes, but when he heard that suggestion, he turned to leave without a word.
Xie Lian grabbed him to stop his escape.
"Don't go! Bathing is a must," he chided earnestly.
"Don't worry, I won't unwrap the bandages on your head."
But Lang Ying still protested, and he plodded outside to chop wood, refusing to come back in. Exasperated, Xie Lian could only grab some logs for himself. While the water heated, he peeled off his clothes. Ruoye unwrapped itself loop by loop from around Xie Lian's chest.
It was at that moment that Lang Ying came back inside carrying a large bundle of logs. When he saw Xie Lian with his upper body bare, his eyes went wide.
Xie Lian was testing the temperature of the water with his hand. Determining that it was just right, he began to climb into the bath while still wearing his trousers.
"Oh, perfect timing," he called out as he saw Lang Ying come in. "Can you please pass me the scroll hung under the bamboo hat on the wall?
Not only did Lang Ying not come over, he backed all the way outside and slammed the door shut. Xie Lian was puzzled. Not a moment later, Lang Ying seemed to remember something and forcefully kicked the door open once more.
"Don't kick the door! The door is…" Xie Lian hastily cried.
Lang Ying kept his eyes off of him and walked straight in.
Quan Yizhen lay sprawled on the floor like a corpse, and he gave no resistance when Lang Ying picked him up and dragged him outside. He appeared deeply asleep; only an event on the level of quaking earth and shaking mountains could rouse him, so he felt nothing as he was dragged along.
Xie Lian didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "What are you doing? It's all right, it's not like I'm a girl. Come in."
True, he hadn't bathed inside Puqi Shrine when Hua Cheng was around. Puqi Shrine was too small, and the conditions there were tough; having a bathtub to himself was about all he could ask for.
There wasn't a sprawling, thirty-meter-long bathing pool lined with privacy screens in which he could row a boat and bathe at his leisure, after all. But whether intentional or not, Xie Lian had never bathed in front of Hua Cheng.
But the one before him now wasn't Hua Cheng, so he didn't see the problem.
"..."
Lang Ying flipped Quan Yizhen over, then he piled a bunch of random clothes over his head. He took the scroll Xie Lian had asked for and passed it over with his head down, and then sat motionless in a corner.
Xie Lian loosened his hair and rolled the scroll open; he read through it carefully, his brows furrowed in concentration.
Steam warmed his face, giving it a rosy glow. His long hair and lashes were shimmering black and dripping wet.
He suddenly noticed the thin silver necklace draped against his bare chest, and the diamond ring twinkling at the end of the chain.
Xie Lian picked up the ring, curling his fingers around it to hold it securely. At the periphery of his vision, he noticed a tiny flower sitting on the corner of the altar. Without thinking, he picked up the flower and brought it before his eyes. He felt his mind cloud like the hot air lingering around him, and he needed someone to spare a hand and help him wave away the haze.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. The sound pulled him out of his reverie, and Xie Lian set the flower back down. Before he could call out to ask who it was, he realized the knocking wasn't on Puqi Shrine's door but rather on the village chief's house next door.
A woman's delicate voice sounded between the knocks.
"Is anyone home? Exchange old for new, exchange old for new. I have a brand-new robe that I have no use for, and I thought that I might exchange it for a set of old clothes that captures my fancy. Is the master of the house open to this trade? Is anyone home?"
He hadn't even needed to go searching; the creature actually came knocking all on its own!
She knocked and called out at every house, yet not a single household opened their door to her. This was hardly unexpected. When Xie Lian wasn't out collecting scraps, he hosted lectures at Puqi Shrine, educating the village aunties and grannies on hundreds of little tricks for how to identify evil. None of the villagers would fall for such an obviously strange uninvited guest who arrived in the middle of the night—the people of the modern age weren't as easy to deceive as in the olden days.
The creature knocked and knocked, but still no one responded. Finally, it came to Puqi Shrine's door. Xie Lian held his breath tensely, but it seemed that creature could feel that this wasn't a place she should call upon. With an exclamation of "Aiyoh," he could hear her footsteps as she turned to leave.
"Wait! I want to trade!" Xie Lian quickly called out. Then he whispered to Lang Ying, "Open the door. Don't be scared— nothing will happen!"
Lang Ying wasn't scared in the least, and he headed over to open the door. Outside there stood a girl with a slender and sensual figure. Just by glimpsing the bottom half of her face, one could tell she was lovely. However, she was wearing a headscarf covering the top half of her face. It was as if she didn't have eyes, and the effect was rather unnerving.
She glanced inside and covered her mouth as she giggled. "Daozhang, what kind of old clothes do you want to exchange for my new ones?"
Xie Lian stayed soaking in the water tub to make it lower its guard. He smiled.
"That depends on what yours look like."
The girl extended her arm and gave it a gentle shake. A shining brocade robe unfurled from her cloth bag. It was beautiful, glamorous even, but the style seemed a bit outdated, and it reeked with an evil air.
"Beautiful. Beautiful," Xie Lian praised. "Lang Ying, give this miss the set of clothes I brought back from town."
Lang Ying brusquely handed the robe over with just one hand.8 The girl gave him the new robe in exchange and giggled as she received the old clothes. She was about to turn around when her face suddenly dropped—it seemed something had pinched her hand, and she screamed and threw the old robes to the ground. Ruoye had crept and coiled within the heap of hemp fabric, and it peeped out of the collar like a white viper flicking its tongue.
And this "girl" wasn't an ordinary girl. After the scream and the jump, her headscarf was knocked off by Ruoye's ambush and fell to the ground. Although the bottom half of her face was bewitching, the top half was wrinkled and aged, forming a horrifying contrast—what "girl"? She was clearly an eighty-year-old hag!