Song Yin activated the Sound-Transmission Conch.
Listening Wind Pavilion Secrets: Why the Demon Princess’s Eighth Lover is a Righteous Sect Brother.
However, upon opening it, she heard:
“Today, this editor will take everyone on a deep dive into the secrets of the Demon Race. I’m sure everyone is curious about how this happened, right? Well, this editor is very curious too! Actually, this was a misunderstanding. The Princess’s eighth lover isn’t a Sect Brother at all—the ninth one is! Alright, that rumor has been corrected. See you next time!”
Song Yin pressed the conch again, but it remained silent. This one-time-use item automatically self-destructed after use. There truly was no more content.
She gripped the shell and banged it against the table several times, but the conch didn’t react at all.
She pursed her lips in dissatisfaction. What a rip-off. It was a scam—a total fraud. A junk marketing account using a bait-and-switch to peddle garbage news. It was useless, worthless, and had swindled someone out of a ridiculously high auction price for nothing.
She tossed the ugly shell onto the table. As it rolled, she thought to herself that, at least, it wasn’t her own money that had been spent. There was another “sucker” out there who had paid for it, and that thought made her feel slightly better.
Jiang Zuilan’s jade business had suffered a massive loss.
Recently, she had become obsessed with “stone gambling.” Several nearby stone-selling shops had eagerly sent her goods, with the sellers’ pitches sounding incredibly extravagant.
“Manager Jiang, we hit it off, and I’m an honest man. I specifically saved this high-quality material for you. No one else could get this old-mine stock from me at such a reasonable price!”
“Manager Jiang, you have to hurry! There are several other households fighting over this stone. You could make at least ten times your profit on this one!”
“Fair price, honest quality! If you open it and find full color, your luck is peaking; if you open it and find a coarse grain, you’re bound to win next time! Whoever buys this gets rich!”
Jiang Zuilan had bought them all in one go, terrified of missing out. She had even taken out a loan from a money exchange to make the purchase.
Back at the shop in the middle of the night, she began opening the stones. The fins on her mermaid tail were as sharp as blades as she sliced them all open one by one.
She lost everything.
And she couldn’t get her money back, either. This kind of scam relied on wordplay; they technically were selling jadeite and emerald, just of a different grade.
Jiang Zuilan sat on the threshold, resting her chin in her hand. She was debating whether to smash the shop of the person who cheated her first, or close her own shop and report the loss to the Master’s husband. Or perhaps close the shop, smash the other place, and then report the loss.
Song Yin shared her sorrow, resting her own chin in her hands. “What are we going to do? We can’t exactly steal things.”
She sighed with genuine emotion. “Master’s husband taught us that we shouldn’t steal from people we don’t know.”
Over the years, aside from medical consultation fees, Jiang Zuilan had only ever won money at the gambling table.
She lamented, “There aren’t any gambling dens around here. Otherwise, I could make a fortune through betting.”
“Mhm.” Song Yin had absolute faith in her sister-disciple’s gambling skills. “What a pity.”
If only a windfall of wealth would fall from the sky to solve her dear sister’s urgent crisis.
Sigh, where could they possibly find a sucker out of thin air?
Both of them sat on the threshold. Forget buying a candied hawthorn stick—they didn’t even have the money for a small skewer of candied yams. They hadn’t eaten yet and were staring longingly at the nearby food stalls, swallowing their saliva.
Suddenly, they caught the scent of pastries—sweet and enticing, drifting from right beside them. Just from the smell, they could tell there were freshly baked meat mooncakes, red bean lotus pastries, and egg-yolk green dumplings…
Song Yin sniffed deeply, thinking she was hallucinating, until she heard a voice: “Miss Song.”
Song Yin looked up.
Helan Tan stood not far away, dressed in sky-blue robes, holding several bags of freshly baked pastries—all of which were her favorites, but which she currently couldn’t afford.
Seeing that she didn’t intend to hide, Helan Tan stepped forward and handed over the bags. “Miss Song, you forgot to give me your voice-transmission code.”
He didn’t mention that Song Yin had already used an excuse to brush him off and refused to give him the code; he simply said she had “forgotten.”
Song Yin’s gaze moved from the bags printed with the shop’s name to him.
Helan Tan’s hands were adorned with several gemstone rings—rubies, sapphires, and green tourmalines, all of varying materials. He wore a blue belt with cloud-and-thunder patterns and a translucent jade pendant at his waist. Its texture was moist and emerald green, clearly no ordinary item. Those blue moon earrings he never took off were surely powerful magical artifacts. The silver-thread crown binding his hair was inlaid with a large piece of blue lapis lazuli.
Song Yin looked at his outfit, which was essentially a walking collection of heavenly treasures, and her eyes darted around.
She took the pastries and handed them to Jiang Zuilan, who also hadn’t eaten. “Xiao Lan, you eat first. I have some private business with Young Master Helan. I’ll be right back.”
She smiled at Helan Tan and said affectionately, “Let’s go. I happen to need to pick something up over by the teahouse.”
Helan Tan hurriedly followed her lead.
Walking to a fabric shop near the teahouse, Song Yin flipped through the bolts of cloth to complete a task assigned by the Master’s husband: picking out several fine silks to bring back for making clothes. This was currently one of the few ways she could legitimately earn some “running away” money from the Master’s husband.
Helan Tan spoke again: “What is your voice-transmission code?”
“Hmm, that.”
Song Yin turned over the fabrics, appearing distracted.
She spoke the truth: “There’s really no need to give it, is there? We aren’t that close. Honestly, after that last time, there was no reason for us to meet again. Meeting now is purely accidental.”
Her truth was devoid of emotion. “We probably won’t see each other again in the future, so there’s no point in exchanging contact methods.”
Helan Tan’s hand, hanging at his side, clenched into a fist. He said nothing.
Song Yin ignored him, closely examining the texture and patterns of the fabrics, quickly deciding on several bolts.
“What do you want to buy? I’ll pay.” Helan Tan reached for the coin pouch at his waist.
Song Yin declined. “No need. Master’s husband already paid for it.”
However, her apricot-shaped eyes shifted as sharply as pearls, her gaze immediately flickering to where his hand was reaching, making a mental note of it.
Having finished her task, Song Yin left the fabric store. Helan Tan was still following behind her.
“Young Master Helan, don’t be sad. There are plenty of people in this world who want my contact info, and I haven’t given it to most of them. Don’t let it weigh on your mind.”
Song Yin took the initiative to step closer to him, almost pressing against his chest.
Her hands moved restlessly in front of him, her bracelets jingling. Her fingertips brushed against the fabric of his clothes, tracing back and forth, causing blue ripples to form on his sky-blue attire.
“Then how will I find you next time?” Helan Tan ignored her hands and simply looked into her eyes.
Can this guy not take a hint? Song Yin was annoyed. She had already said they wouldn’t have a chance to meet again. Once she and her Master found the medicine, they would leave. Who would want to meet again?
But on the surface, she tilted her small face up. Her watery, apricot eyes were radiant and overflowing with charm, looking at him with what seemed like deep affection.
“If we are fated, we will surely meet again.”
While Song Yin spoke softly and sweetly to him, her hands never stopped their subtle movements.
She patted his chest, her slender, fair hand sliding down like it was boneless, seemingly brushing past his waist by accident.
The Sound-Transmission Conches from the Listening Wind Pavilion were like “blind boxes.” Unlike the junk marketing one Song Yin had received, the one Sikong Lan opened contained solid, authentic information.
The details provided by the Listening Wind Pavilion were precise and thorough.
Not only did it provide the specific location of the Azure Cliff, but more importantly, it listed the three wishes the Azure Dragon’s Breath had granted to medicine seekers over the years.
The Azure Dragon was a gourmet.
Every time, it demanded that the medicine seeker offer three delicacies. Crucially, the main ingredient for all three medicinal dishes had to be tofu.
The specific names of the dishes weren’t provided; the seekers had to figure them out, improvise, and cook them themselves.
Sikong Lan rubbed her forehead. “I thought I transmigrated into a cultivation novel, but the quest turns out to be a cooking story.”
She didn’t have a chef’s license, so she decided to let her disciples go and gain some experience.
Falling Moon Pavilion.
Helan Tan was drinking tea with a companion.
The tea was fine Pre-Qingming tea, and the accompanying snacks were exquisite and luxurious, filling the table.
“Helan, why the long face?” His companion was also a young master from a prominent family. His family specialized in the smelting of cauldrons and other tools and had close ties to the Medicine Sect.
The companion eagerly poured him tea. The teacup was a famous piece of craftsmanship—a thin, celadon porcelain that cast a faint shadow against the light, swaying with the tea. The tea leaves were emerald green, their veins spreading as they slowly released their verdant hue.
However, someone was in no mood to appreciate it.
Helan Tan had been holding his cup in silence for a long time. The temperature of the tea through the thin porcelain was neither hot nor cold.
That Charm Demon said they wouldn’t meet again.
True, he really had no reason to see her again.
Helan Tan thought it over, racking his brain, but couldn’t find a reason for a next meeting.
Thinking of Song Yin’s indifferent attitude, a sense of irritation flared up in his heart for no reason.
What right did she have to be so decisive? What right did she have to only care about herself?
Helan Tan gripped the teacup, gritting his teeth as he warned himself.
She is a Charm Spirit. Charm Spirits exist to control hearts and bewitch others.
If she was cold, let her be cold. Hmph. He was only using her anyway. Once the Confusion-Clearing Pill was refined, he would never deal with her again.
The pastries were untouched; sitting there had become tedious.
Helan Tan walked to the counter to pay the bill. Every move he made reflected the Medicine Sect’s reputation. The Medicine Sect was domineeringly wealthy, and as the Young Sect Master, he was generous in his dealings; it was always his treat.
Helan Tan’s expression was cold as he reached for his money.
His hand went to his waist, but it found only empty space.
He froze for a moment and searched again. The coin pouch at his waist was actually gone.
But it was definitely there when he went to the fabric shop with Song Yin today.
“Brother Helan, what’s wrong?” his friend asked, puzzled.
Having no money to pay the bill didn’t make Helan Tan feel he had lost face. He stood still for a few moments, and the image of Song Yin’s hand sliding past his waist flashed through his mind. His eyelids lowered slightly, his pale blue pupils shifting to one side, and he actually began to smile.
He casually took off a jade thumb ring and tossed it onto the counter with a clink. The corners of his mouth curled up in an uncontrollable joy, and he turned back toward the market without hesitation.
“Everyone, I have something to attend to. Please excuse me.”
Author’s Note:
Helan: She has me in her heart! Otherwise, why wouldn’t she take someone else’s coin pouch?