The two cultivators were greatly alarmed. They exchanged a glance but dared not step forward again.
"…You—you're meddling in others' affairs! A mere mortal, what—what is she anyway?"
"Forget it, Junior Brother. Let's go, let's go."
Whatever spell that man had used, Su Zhai's shoulder blades still ached with residual pain, and her vision was momentarily blurred. In a panic, she grabbed at the hem of his robe and heard him reassure her: "It's nothing serious. Madam only needs to rest for a moment."
Su Zhai nodded. "Thank you, Daoist Master."
The man was still supporting her waist, hesitating slightly. Su Zhai said to him, "Would you please take me to that stone bench over there?"
"Very well."
Once Su Zhai was seated steadily, the man released her quickly. "Those two just now were disciples of Lingxiao Palace. Since their fellow sect member was harmed, they were inevitably a bit impatient. I hope Madam will understand."
These minor sects always acted in ways that were hard to stomach—treating mortals like pigs and dogs, even more reckless than demons and monsters.
He sighed inwardly and said in a gentle voice, "Madam must have been frightened."
"Thank you, Daoist Master, for resolving this for me." Su Zhai's eyes still couldn't see. She tilted her head slightly. "May I ask your name?"
"A nobody of no consequence, not worth mentioning." The man smiled faintly. "I shall take my leave."
He came and went like the wind. After leaving the door, he carefully closed the courtyard gate for Su Zhai, then glanced back a few times before flying off on his sword toward Ziqian Hall.
"I'm late—my sincerest apologies."
Not far away, a plague ghost had arisen in Linzhou to cause chaos. Because the area was remote, by the time it was discovered, the epidemic had already spread across several cities—a most troublesome matter.
The local government couldn't resolve it and had no choice but to seek help from the Immortal Gate. Naturally, Ziqian Hall felt it their duty to step in.
Shi Yeshan normally didn't involve himself in such matters. Strictly speaking, he was direct lineage from Mount Shu, dispatched to Cangzhou to oversee affairs, always keeping a layer of distance from Ziqian Hall. Lately, for some unknown reason, upon learning that this expedition would come with a monetary reward from the government, he'd decided to tag along.
But they were supposed to depart that afternoon, and waiting for this Perfected Master Changlin had already delayed them by half a day.
Shi Yeshan was especially impatient. When the man finally arrived, he didn't even offer a greeting—just said, "Let's go."
Perfected Master Changlin was a figure of great renown in the cultivation world. He had once spent time at Ziqian Hall and was familiar with many there, but in recent years he'd been traveling far and wide, rarely seen anywhere.
Had he not happened to be wandering in this very area, ordinary cultivators would hardly have had a chance to meet him. They could barely contain themselves, eager to step forward and offer their greetings.
"Oh?" One cultivator pointed at Changlin's sword case with a teasing tone. "Brother Qiqing, this half day you delayed us—where exactly did you go?"
It turned out that a woman's fragrant handkerchief was hooked onto his sword case, its tail end embroidered with a few indistinct lines in pink thread—those were a few English letters Su Zhai had stitched out of boredom.
Seeing this, the crowd joined in with laughter and teasing. Shen Qiqing hastily grabbed the handkerchief into his hand, realizing that when he'd been supporting that lady just now, a sharp edge on his sword case must have accidentally snagged the handkerchief from her. It had been hanging behind his back the whole time, and he hadn't even noticed.
No wonder he'd felt a fragrant breeze accompanying him along the way, intoxicating his senses.
So it hadn't been an illusion after all.
Shen Qiqing was deeply embarrassed for a moment, chiding himself for thinking too much.
"Hahaha, stop asking—Brother Qiqing's face is completely red now!"
"A fair maiden by one's side—no wonder Perfected Master Changlin, a man of such punctuality, would be late."
"I wonder which immortal maiden it is? One who could catch Perfected Master Changlin's eye."
The solemn expressions on everyone's faces had all turned to gleeful amusement at his expense. Only Shi Yeshan said nothing, his cold eyes fixed steadily on Shen Qiqing, thin lips pressed into a deep, unreadable line.
Shen Qiqing was an upright man. He immediately and awkwardly tucked the handkerchief into his robes. "Everyone, please don't tease. This is not—not what you think."
But the other party was a married woman. Fearing he might ruin her reputation, Shen Qiqing, under the barrage of teasing questions, couldn't bring himself to explain anything—only shaking his head, growing more flustered. "It's nothing to do with that. Don't speak nonsense."
At that moment, Shi Yeshan, who had been standing silently in the corner all along, spoke up coldly: "If it's nothing to do with that, then why are you tucking her handkerchief into your robes?"
Shi Yeshan rarely interacted with his colleagues. No one had expected him to chime in at this moment, and the teasing only grew more spirited. No one noticed the chill in his tone.
"Hahahaha—he's even keeping it close to his body!"
"Well said! There must be something going on!"
Several refused to let it go, insisting there was something suspicious. Shen Qiqing's head ached. He deflected: "It's merely my own one-sided feelings. If you keep teasing and joking, don't blame me for…"
"One-sided feelings? Then you're even more shameless." Shi Yeshan stared at him expressionlessly, speaking matter-of-factly. "Despicable creature. What do you intend to do? Take out the handkerchief."
…
The crowd was stunned, exchanging bewildered glances. Shen Qiqing's eyes reddened from the scolding, his Spiritual Qi rippling and distorting his vision. In an instant, his sword was already drawn, the cold gleam of its tip aimed steadily at Shi Yeshan's calm features as he demanded, "What did you say?!"
His voice was tight with fury. "This handkerchief is a woman's personal belonging—how could I let others examine it freely? I had no choice but to put it away. How dare you slander me like this?!"
His sword, sensing its master's rage, let out a piercing shriek. Combined with the Divine Pressure that erupted from him in that instant, the entire room was steeped in a suffocating menace. Several low-ranking disciples stumbled back dozens of steps, barely concealing their terror.
Shi Yeshan, however, did not even blink.
Seeing the situation turn sour, his colleagues hurried forward to separate the two, most of them clustering around Shen Qiqing to console him. Shi Yeshan's side was comparatively deserted, but he paid it no mind. He merely narrowed his eyes slightly and said, "This handkerchief—how exactly did you come by it?"
Though his tone was flat, it carried an air of looking down from above.
As if he were addressing some insignificant wretch, not the renowned Perfected Master Changlin.
Shen Qiqing gripped his sword tightly, unwilling to be slandered by Shi Yeshan like this. Grinding his teeth, he said, "Just now, as I passed Qiling Peak, I spotted two disciples of Lingxiao Palace skulking about, looking like they were up to no good. I deliberately followed them for a stretch and saw them about to harass an ordinary mortal woman for no reason. This handkerchief—I accidentally caught it on my sword when I stepped in to help her."
Lingxiao Palace did not have a particularly good reputation, so this explanation was rather convincing.
Shi Yeshan nodded, repeating in an extremely soft voice, "Lingxiao Palace."
Each syllable was deliberate, his tone calm, yet it inexplicably made one's scalp crawl.
Shen Qiqing suppressed his seething anger and said coldly, "Once the matter of the plague ghost is settled, I will naturally return the item to its owner. This esteemed Deacon—you have slandered me repeatedly. Are you looking to settle this with the sword in my hand?!"
"Oh." Shi Yeshan cast him a cold glance. "My apologies."
With that, his figure had already vanished out the door with startling speed.
Shen Qiqing barely had time to react, instinctively taking two steps forward in pursuit. But no sooner had he stepped out of the assembly hall than this seemingly unremarkable Deacon appeared beside him like a phantom, patted his shoulder, and said a word of thanks.
Then he was gone again.
Shen Qiqing felt his chest suddenly empty and realized the handkerchief had already been taken by Shi Yeshan—without giving him the slightest chance to respond.
He stood frozen in place, thinking… this man truly did seem to be merely an Outer Sect Deacon.
The others in the assembly hall finally rushed out, saw Shen Qiqing's stunned figure, and were equally baffled by their colleague Shi Yeshan's behavior tonight. They could only gather around to console Shen Qiqing in unison.
Shen Qiqing snapped back to his senses and couldn't help asking, "Is this man truly just an outer sect disciple?"
"Shi Yeshan? He came over from Mount Shu. Though his cultivation base isn't high, he always seems to look down on Cangzhou's Ziqian Hall, with his nose in the air. Even our hall master can't get him to do anything. Brother Qiqing, you really shouldn't bother with him."
"He stirs up trouble, then slips away fast enough."
"I suspect he's trying to escape before the fight, so he's making a scene here."
Shen Qiqing let out a light breath. "So he's from Mount Shu."
It seemed this man did indeed have something about him.
Slandering him with ill intentions was one thing—at least he'd apologized. But what did this fellow mean by snatching away the woman's handkerchief?
…And thanking him? Thanking him for what? Thanking him for delivering this scented handkerchief? Truly a shameless sort.
"The matter at hand is what matters. Gentlemen, let's go." Shen Qiqing gave a cold snort, flicked his sleeve, and turned away. "I'll have words with him when we return."
After the Daoist priest left, the red snake quietly reappeared at Su Zhai's side, nudging her hand where it rested on the stone table with its head.
Su Zhai yanked her hand back in fright before realizing—"Oh, it's you, little red snake… Were you running to my home earlier to escape those two Lingxiao Palace cultivators?"
The snake's tail tapped her palm.
Sigh.
Su Zhai sighed inwardly, thinking to herself, you little snake really got me into trouble.
If not for that Daoist priest passing by, who knows what would have happened tonight.
The red snake seemed to realize this too, only rubbing against her gently, waiting for Su Zhai to calm down before slowly tapping her shoulder blade with its tail.
"Hiss, that hurts. Stop messing around."
And the pain was growing worse, taking on a burning sensation.
Her eyes still couldn't see anything either—not like what that Daoist had said, that she'd be fine after resting a while.
"I'm not going to go blind, am I?" Su Zhai muttered to herself, then felt the injured spot again, noticing the burning heat was intensifying. Worried, she touched her eyes, nearly poking herself in the eyeball.
…Why did it feel like things were getting worse?
"Little snake, something feels wrong." Su Zhai tried talking to it. "You're a demon, right? Can you take a look for me? Is this injury of mine serious or not? If it's serious, tap me once. If it's not serious, tap me twice."
The red snake tapped her once.
Su Zhai's heart sank. "Then will I go blind?"
The red snake, however, did not strike her again. The moment her words faded, it shot away like an arrow.
A sound stirred again at the courtyard gate. Su Zhai abruptly stood up, fearing that people from Lingxiao Palace might return to cause trouble—this time, no one would save her. In that instant of tension, Su Zhai suddenly lay down on the ground.
Forget it… I'll just pretend to have fainted and see what happens.