“Madam, this is the guest house within the estate, specially prepared by the young master. Please stay here for now.”
The servant stood in the courtyard where pink petals fluttered, bowing as he spoke.
Wu Ping’an thanked him: “I understand, thank you.”
The servant bowed even lower, saying repeatedly: “You are too kind, madam. It is only proper. Please rest now, I shall not disturb you further.”
Wu Ping’an nodded, watching the servant leave the courtyard. She recalled the expression on Ji Yuwei’s face when he had asked her name not long ago in the Apricot Grove courtyard house.
She had initially intended to fabricate a name, but he possessed eyes that seemed to see through people’s hearts, piercing through her like a ghost with ease, making it impossible for her to utter a falsehood. Thus, she had no choice but to tell him her name was Wu Ping’an.
At that, he had smiled and praised her name as very pleasant.
Wu Ping’an could not see through him, yet she felt he was like a cup of clear tea—one could see straight to the bottom at a glance.
He had kept her here because his own younger sister, with whom he had grown up, had died. Their parents were far away and still unaware of the cause of their daughter’s death. He wished to uncover the reason before their return. And since she had been involved with his sister before her death, he needed her assistance in the investigation.
He said Ji Yulian had been eaten by a monster beast, but Wu Ping’an knew no spellcraft to capture demons or monsters. She did not understand why he insisted on keeping her. Just as she was about to voice her refusal, Ji Yuwei suddenly covered his mouth and coughed. Then she saw bright red blood seeping through his pale fingers, splattering on the ground like plum blossoms blooming in winter.
At that very moment, the young man lifted his pale, fragile face, gazing deeply at her, cutting off the refusal she was about to utter.
For no apparent reason, he had coughed up blood. Before hastily departing, he had still maintained proper etiquette, arranging for someone to escort her here to stay temporarily.
Though unwilling, Wu Ping’an could hardly say much to trouble the servants while he was spitting blood and needed to take medicine first. So she had followed them here.
After the servant had gone far, Wu Ping’an suppressed the restless unease that had stirred within her since first meeting Ji Yuwei, and carefully examined the courtyard she now found herself in.
This place was vastly different from her sunless slum.
The estate owner’s aesthetic was refreshingly novel. Seasonal flowering trees were planted in the corners of the courtyard, their petals tender pink buds, branches spreading like umbrellas, occupying half of the grayish-blue curved tiles. The windows were bright and clean, with several slender short bamboos placed beneath them, their roots buried in clean round stones of varying sizes. The courtyard was so large that it took her several dozen steps to reach the doorway.
Wu Ping’an stood at the entrance, looking at the clean floor.
The people here were refined yet unrestrained and free-spirited, preferring to sit directly on the floor, which was why it was polished to a gleaming shine.
Wu Ping’an glanced down at her trouser legs, caked with dried mud—accidentally acquired during her earlier escape.
She stepped over the threshold and entered.
Inside stood a full-length dressing mirror, as tall as a person. Many small round mirrors hung on the walls. Without needing to search for a mirror to examine herself, Wu Ping’an caught sight of her own wretched appearance at once.
She stood before the mirror, staring at her own lips, cracked from lack of water for so long, then thought of the servants she had just seen.
Although those people had not even lifted their heads, one could tell from their profiles and slender, elegant figures that their looks and bearing were exceptional.
Observing the estate’s furnishings, it indeed aligned perfectly with an appearance-obsessed aesthetic.
Yet Wu Ping’an had not expected that, appearing before the notoriously extreme perfectionist Ji Yuwei with such a face, he had not killed her. Instead, he had arranged for her to stay within the estate.
Also, how did he know that Ade wasn’t her real name? Had he investigated beforehand?
Perhaps he had, after all, the deceased was his own blood sister.
Just as Wu Ping’an was lost in these random thoughts, a steady knocking sound suddenly came from the courtyard.
She glanced at her reflection in the bronze mirror and stepped out of the room.
Although she had prepared herself, she still froze for a moment upon seeing Ji Yuwei.
The youth, as pure as ice and snow, had changed into a bright red baoyi large-sleeved straight-hem robe with a cross-collar right lapel and buttonless tied tassels. His white inner garment resembled snow covering plum blossoms, and his jet-black hair was tied into a Daoist bun with a wooden hairpin. He stood as straight as a crane in the elegant courtyard adorned with pink petals, the red dot on his forehead lending him the gentle and kind demeanor of a true scholar, along with the carefree, straightforward, and unadorned beauty of a literati, without the slightest attempt to conceal it.
Ji Yuwei was accustomed to her lingering gaze on his face. Since childhood, countless people had looked at him with awe and envy. Her reaction now fell perfectly within his expectations, so he didn’t find himself overly conspicuous. Instead, he curved his lips into a smile and affectionately called out to her, “Lady Wu.”
Wu Ping’an snapped out of her daze, pulling her gaze away from his face, and addressed him as the servants did, “Fifth Young Master.”
“Lady Wu need not call me Fifth Young Master. Just call me Wuzhi,” he said, waving to her from beneath the brilliantly blooming peach blossom tree, naturally embodying the imagery from the Book of Songs: “The peach tree is young and elegant; its blossoms are bright and splendid.” There was no hint of awkwardness.
Although Wu Ping’an was not from this dynasty, she knew that people of note would often adopt a courtesy name upon reaching twenty, the age of capping. However, as noble customs gradually declined, some literati began taking courtesy names around sixteen or even earlier, leading to the practice becoming widespread and allowing such “transgressions.” Generally, only close relatives, friends, or colleagues would address someone by their courtesy name.
Earlier, when he referred to himself as “this humble servant,” it was because, in this era where people were addressed as “young master,” it was common to refer to oneself as such when meeting someone for the first time.
Thus, both emotionally and logically, having just met Ji Yuwei, she should not be so presumptuous as to call him Wuzhi.
In the end, Wu Ping’an did not utter the name.
Ji Yuwei didn’t mind either, as if he had merely mentioned it casually. He sat quietly on the stone stool beneath the tree, while the young attendant beside him set down the peachwood tray he was carrying and arranged everything according to his master’s habits. Wu Ping’an had already approached by then.
“I wonder if Fifth Young Master is feeling better?” Wu Ping’an wanted to discuss leaving with him, so she decided to start with some polite conversation.
Ji Yuwei gestured for her to sit first.
Wu Ping’an sat down, her dark eyes fixed directly on him.
He met her gaze without flinching, allowing her to scrutinize him, appearing so carefree that not a trace of guilt could be seen—only sincerity toward her.
Truly blessed with a handsome face, Wu Ping’an was the first to yield, turning her gaze away and lowering her eyes to look at her own hands. “I wonder what Fifth Young Master wants me to do?”
Ji Yuwei smiled, his face still somewhat pale from having taken medicine, his voice as soft as a passing breeze. “I don’t want Lady Wu to do anything. Although I trust that Lady Wu would not harm her, as you just saw, I have been frail since childhood and may be unable to accomplish certain things on my own. I need someone to help investigate why Yu Lian was killed by a monster beast. Coincidentally, you had contact with her before her death and carry traces of her living qi on you. Therefore, I need the ‘living qi’ on Lady Wu to use a fu talisman to track down where the monster beast is.”
Wu Ping’an discerned the implication in his words, knowing his spellcraft was exceptional, placing him among the pinnacle of existence in the book, which was why he stubbornly refused to die. Yet, she hadn’t known he had been frail since childhood.
When reading the novel, she had only felt Ji Yuwei was as detestable as a shit-stirrer, always shamelessly inserting himself into whatever the male and female leads were doing, whether big or small.
Since the book never explicitly mentioned his childhood frailty, her gaze now held a trace of suspicion.
Seeing her doubt, Ji Yuwei’s lips uncontrollably curved upward. He covered his mouth with a fist to suppress the irrepressible smile and explained, “Lady Wu may not know, but I should have died at birth. It was my mother who used mandrake juice in medicine, burned fu talismans to recall my soul, and even marked me with a life-preserving mole, allowing me to live to this day.”
Wu Ping’an’s gaze involuntarily drifted to the Guanyin red mole between his brows. His original pallor was accentuated by that touch of red, making him resemble a radiant hibiscus. The living qi she had sensed emanating from him earlier was also due to that mole.
But she quickly realized: why would he tell her something even the book hadn’t mentioned so readily?
Wu Ping’an grew increasingly unable to understand the person before her. “Why are you telling me this?”
Ji Yuwei fluttered his long lashes twice before answering truthfully, “Because Lady Wu would not harm me.”
“Why?” Wu Ping’an looked at him.
Propping his chin with one hand, his youthful, beautiful face softened with a gentle smile as he gazed at her warmly, like spring itself. “Because Lady Wu comes from the Divine Realm. Gods save mortals with compassion—how could you harm me?”
Hearing this abruptly, Wu Ping’an felt a tingling scalp and explained, “I’m not. I’m just an ordinary person.”
“You are,” he blinked, recounting what he had witnessed. “That day, I and my servants were on the Buddhist mountain in the outskirts of the city and saw with our own eyes Lady break through the heavenly boundary.”
“You saw that!” Wu Ping’an exclaimed in surprise, never expecting he had witnessed the day she transmigrated into the book.
He nodded slightly. “I saw Lady descend among monster beasts. At that time, you were empty-handed yet remained unshaken even as Mount Tai crumbled before you, so composed and calm. In my eyes, you were truly a god.”
Young Ji Yuwei’s appearance was too pure, so youthful that in Wu Ping’an’s eyes, he seemed like a high school student just coming of age. The sincerity and innocence in his eyes as he spoke these words gave her a sense of absurdity.
Recalling how she had just fallen and found herself surrounded by bizarre, several-meter-tall monster beasts drooling long strands of saliva, she had been too stunned to react—far from being as steady as Mount Tai. Yet now, an eyewitness was treating her as a deity.
Wu Ping’an laughed awkwardly. “No, I was actually terrified.”
Ji Yuwei drew out a thoughtful “Hmm,” tactfully refraining from further discussion on the matter, and instead shifted the topic. “In short, I believe Lady Wu would not harm anyone, and I also wish to borrow a bit of ‘living qi’ from you to aid in finding the monster beast that harmed my younger sister. Once we locate the culprit, I will personally escort Lady back and offer generous gifts.”
Having said as much, it was clear he wouldn’t let her go now. Yet Wu Ping’an truly didn’t want to spend time with Ji Yuwei, even if he was currently innocent and untainted. Later, he became far too neurotic, attacking everyone indiscriminately, which worried her somewhat.
Wu Ping’an deliberated and said, “Can I think about this?”
Ji Yuwei pondered and replied, “Very well.”
Finally, he added, “I have nothing to do today and can wait for Lady’s answer.”
Was he going to sit here and wait?
Wu Ping’an saw his serious demeanor and had no choice but to pretend to think, while secretly considering how to politely refuse him.
As she pondered, Ji Yuwei was also sizing her up.
What he said was true, every word sincere, without a hint of guilt. Just the time he took to leave for medicine, burn incense, and bathe was enough for her to wash away this filth, yet she still wore it, appearing utterly grimy.
He frowned, suppressing a surge of criticism. The first thing to address after keeping Wu Ping’an would be her short, withered-yellow hair, like dried grass, and then her unremarkable, far-from-fair face.
However…
He tilted his head slightly, staring intently at her eyes, which were focused on her hands as she thought. Reluctantly, he managed to pick out a faint trace of something good from her plain and unattractive appearance.
Wu Ping’an remained unaware that she had been thoroughly scrutinized from head to toe. After thinking for a long time, she realized she had no way to refuse him.
His words clearly indicated no intention of letting her go now. Since he had said he would release her eventually, and only needed to borrow a bit of ‘living qi’ to find the monster beast, she could cooperate.
Wu Ping’an looked up and saw his unwavering gaze fixed on her.
Before she could voice her doubts, he spoke first: “Have you thought it through, my lady?”
Wu Ping’an nodded. “Yes, I can assist Fifth Young Master in finding the monster beast. But I wonder how you plan to extract living qi from me?”
If it endangered her life, she would have a reason to refuse.
Her calculations were ringing loud and clear in her mind. The young man sitting across from her blinked away the hazy mist in his eyes, stared at the collar of her robe, and his thin, pink lips parted slightly.
“Would the lady please remove her mundane garments to facilitate the extraction?”