The moonlight cast deep shadows, and the trees danced across the ground as a dark figure darted through them, his movements as fluid as flowing water.
“Wait for me!” Xu Songhe called out. “You’re running too fast… I can’t keep up!”
The figure stopped and looked back at her. “If we wait for you to catch up, we’ll never even see a glimpse of Yu Baisui.”
Xu Songhe bent over, gasping for breath, unable to even stand straight.
She forced her head up, her eyes slightly red from the wind. “But I just can’t run any faster! What am I supposed to do?”
What choice did she have? She only had two legs. She couldn’t fly like they could—how was she ever supposed to catch up?
Qi Wuyang lowered his gaze, seemingly acknowledging her frustration.
She rubbed her nose, feeling both embarrassed and apologetic.
“Maybe you should go on without me,” she whispered. “I’ll try my best to find you as quickly as I can…”
But he seemed to ignore her. Instead, he bent down, picked up a tree branch, and casually snapped a smaller twig from it.
He looked at her with a smile. “Ready?”
Xu Songhe was bewildered. “Ready… ready for what?”
But he gave her no time to react. With one eye squinted, he released the branch in his hand.
Whoosh!
The branch shot through the air like an arrow.
Her eyes widened in confusion. “Why did you… there’s no one else here, so why would you—”
Before she could finish, she saw a faint light glow at his fingertips. In a flash, a strand of gentle spiritual energy wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the ground like a soft, fluffy cloud.
“Ah—!”
Her body swayed, her knees buckled, and she landed on all fours.
When she realized she was balanced on a tree branch no thicker than a finger, her breath hitched.
A branch this thin? It’s going to break! How could it possibly support a person’s weight? She prayed she wouldn’t be splattered on the ground like a pancake.
“Qi—Qi Wuyang, what are you doing?” she cried out, her voice trembling as she looked at him in desperation. “Put me down! I’m going to fall and die!”
Yet he showed no intention of helping her down. Instead, he smiled. “If you fall to your death, I’ll take the blame.”
“…That won’t be necessary,” Xu Songhe replied, her voice trembling with despair.
Not daring to jump, she stammered, “You… just don’t let me fall.”
“How could you?” He scoffed softly, his eyes dancing with mischief. “I won’t let you fall.”
Xu Songhe wanted to tell him that he could have just chased the rest of the group himself. After all, she couldn’t fight and would be useless in a real scrap. But before she could even get a word out, the world began to spin.
The wind whipped past her ears, stinging and fierce.
She couldn’t recall how she had gotten down from the branch. All she knew was that her legs felt like jelly, and she was experiencing a sensation a hundred times worse than motion sickness.
Meanwhile, the culprit leaned against a massive tree trunk, arms crossed, watching her with leisurely amusement.
Xu Songhe glared at him, her almond-shaped eyes wide and sparkling with indignation.
“You may not know how to treat a lady with care,” she fumed, “but could you at least show me some respect? How about asking if I’m willing before you do this?”
Her tone held no trace of anger, instead, it was soft and gentle, completely devoid of any aggression.
Xu Songhe tried to reason with him, but he only raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Why?”
“That’s how people will like you,” she said, taking a step closer.
As she looked up, a sliver of moonlight caught the depths of her eyes. “Don’t you want people to like you?”
Like?
The confusion in his eyes deepened. “What is ‘liking’?”
“Liking is…”
Xu Songhe paused, deciding this wasn’t the right time to explain.
She quickly changed the subject. “I wonder what Yu Baisui is up to now. Let’s go check on him.”
Through the window, they saw figures moving inside the house, but the shapes were too blurry to make out.
Recalling what she had seen at the temple and what Yu Baisui had said earlier, she was now certain he was the Medicine Immortal.
But knowing the truth wasn’t enough. She still had to figure out how to make the townspeople believe her.
One was a useless, greedy Medicine Immortal, and the other was the kind and skilled Shopkeeper Yu. No one would believe her if she claimed they were the same person.
“Does Shopkeeper Yu not fear anyone?” she murmured, not expecting an answer.
Yet, the young man beside her replied with casual ease. “He does. He’s afraid of me.”
“Oh, he’s afraid of… huh?” Xu Songhe stared at him, her expression turning to one of utter bewilderment. “He’s afraid of you?”
Right, the system had already introduced Qi Wuyang to her. His true form was a nine-tailed fox, likely the same “Lord Nine-Tails” the other demons spoke of.
But wasn’t the Medicine Immortal supposed to be an immortal? Why would he be afraid of him?
Qi Wuyang glanced at her, his gaze seemingly piercing through her thoughts.
“I never said he was an immortal,” he said airily.
Xu Songhe blinked in surprise. “Then… he’s a demon?”
So, she hadn’t run into a single normal person in this place. Even her own target was a demon.
A sudden chill swept down her back, and goosebumps prickled her skin. “Could it be that everyone in this town is…”
“Are you afraid?” Qi Wuyang’s lips curved into a smile. He found her reaction amusing.
Taking advantage of her momentary distraction, he leaned in close, gently lifting her chin to force her to meet his gaze. He searched her dark eyes, his own eyes drooping with curiosity.
After a long moment, he let out a soft laugh. “You’ve been with me this whole time, yet you’re scared after only half a month with them?”
“That’s different,” Xu Songhe blurted out. She paused, surprised by her own words.
She wasn’t from this world, so it was only natural to be frightened by so many demons. But knowing Qi Wuyang was also a demon—and a powerful one at that—why didn’t she feel any fear?
He was still watching her, seemingly waiting for an answer.
Isn’t he a demon who’s lived for centuries? Why does he keep getting entangled with her over such strange things? And he likes to tease her… how childish.
Not wanting to dwell on the subject any longer, Xu Songhe quickly changed the topic. “Young Master, if he’s scared of you, then this will be easy.”
Qi Wuyang frowned in confusion as she produced paper and a brush from somewhere and spread them before him.
“Young Master, please write a few words on here,” she said excitedly. “Just write exactly what I tell you.”
When he showed no sign of moving—his gaze simply fixed on the paper and brush—she tilted her head. “Young Master? What’s wrong?”
As she spoke, she reached out and nudged the brush on the floor. A few specks of dust bounced onto the clean white paper.
Qi Wuyang raised his eyes from the paper to her confused face.
“I can’t,” he said flatly.
“What?”
The brush slipped from Xu Songhe’s hand, landing with a thud on the paper and leaving a small, dark ink stain. Sensing his gaze on her again, she quickly retrieved the brush and forced a smile.
“That’s completely normal! After all, demons like you live for so many centuries. Relatively speaking, you’re still young. It makes sense that you can’t write yet. When we get out of here, I’ll teach you…”
Qi Wuyang’s brow furrowed in thought. He couldn’t understand why she had used such a long, rambling explanation to respond to his three simple words.
She let out a long sigh, looking at him with a mournful expression.
A memory fragment flashed: the young man trapped at the bottom of the well all those years ago had barely reached her shoulder. He had been alone from beginning to end. Who could have possibly taught him to read?
A wave of pity washed over her, but she knew that teaching him was not the priority right now.
The first arrow, bearing the name “Medicine Immortal,” had shocked Yu Baisui into a fury. But when the second arrow arrived, signed by “Lord Nine-Tails,” he didn’t even dare to doubt it.
One by one, the townsfolk—their life force drained—began to fall ill.
Xu Songhe donned the mask provided by the System and slipped into the crowd, joining the throng that pressed against Yu Baisui’s door.
Her gaze searched the crowd anxiously. Countless strangers passed by, but none of them were him.
The moment her eyes met his, she finally breathed. The heavy stone in her chest seemed to lift.
He tilted his head slightly, his eyes meeting hers through the mask. “Aren’t you afraid of mistaking me for someone else?”
“I don’t look that foolish,” she replied.
But even as the words left her lips, the image of his body being thrown backward by a palm strike, blood trickling from his lips, flashed before her eyes again. She pressed her lips tight and instinctively reached out to grab the edge of his robe.
“I saw him show you no mercy just now,” she murmured. “Does… does it still hurt?”
He’d been thrown so far, and he’d bled. He must have been in agony. Yet here he stood, perfectly fine, smiling at her as if nothing had happened.
“Isn’t surviving the best possible outcome?” he asked.
He couldn’t understand why this was her first question upon seeing him. He smiled. “Does it really matter if it hurt?”
“It matters,” she said without hesitation.
She looked up at him, her eyes filled with genuine regret and tenderness. “Next time, we’ll find another way. I promise you won’t be hurt again.”
He lowered his gaze to the edge of his robe she was still clutching.
When he looked back up, a flash of surprise crossed his eyes—eyes that always held a teasing smile. It vanished as quickly as a firefly flickering in the moonlight.
The crowd suddenly surged with renewed energy. Someone shouted, “Shopkeeper! We’ve all benefited from your kindness and have always respected you. Just give us an explanation, and we’ll all believe you. Right, everyone?”
The others immediately chimed in. “That’s right! Shopkeeper, explain yourself! Why did you kill that man for no reason?”
A few who were still undecided refused to follow the crowd, standing frozen as they scanned the scene, trying to stay out of the conflict.
“Quiet down, all of you!” A-Fang stepped in front of Yu Baisui, waving his arms to push back the sea of angry faces.
“How is the Shopkeeper supposed to explain anything with all this noise? Would you even listen to him?”
As the crowd’s shouting subsided, A-Fang glanced back at Yu Baisui. The man’s face remained grim, and he made no move to speak. Steeling himself, A-Fang cleared his throat and tried again.
“We’ve all lived in this town together for a long time,” he called out. “Don’t you all know what kind of man Shopkeeper Yu is? If he really wanted to harm you, who was the one who braved the wind and snow to deliver medicine in the middle of the night? Who stayed up all night treating everyone’s illnesses? Don’t let yourselves be fooled!”
Seeing the crowd fall silent, A-Fang’s confidence grew. He pointed a finger at the body on the ground. “What about this man? Who knows what kind of person he was? Maybe he provoked the Shopkeeper, or maybe he was already sick and just collapsed at the slightest touch. Who’s to say he didn’t deliberately try to frame the Shopkeeper?”