Yu Zaixi quite liked Luozhong because the city was small, requiring little walking to reach his destination. He could have used a teleportation array, but it was better to be discreet in an illusion. Judging by Dalu’s implications, there was no telling what else lay inside.
The Changfeng Restaurant was of decent size, spanning three storefronts. The first floor was neatly arranged with tables for ordinary meals, while the second floor offered private rooms partitioned by intricate wooden carvings, as well as secluded bays by the windows. It was a place of some standing. The downstairs area was packed, so the two of them went straight to a window-side bay on the second floor.
Yu Zaixi had two questions. “Did you bring any money? And we cannot even see what is happening outside from here.”
Qin Nai shook his head. “There is no need to look outside. Just sit for a while.”
Before Yu Zaixi could say anything else, a waiter approached with a smile. “What will the two gentlemen have? Our steamed fish in rice wine is our specialty.”
They were not there for a full meal, so Qin Nai took charge and ordered two plates of dishes and a pot of wine. After the waiter left, Yu Zaixi asked, “If you knew your Master liked the Changfeng Restaurant down the mountain, why did you not come sooner?”
A bitter expression crossed Qin Nai’s face as he recalled the past. “I could not find it.”
Yu Zaixi let out an “oh” and leaned back, not pressing further. Perhaps when Qin Nai first descended the mountain, Luozhong had already met with disaster, making it natural that he could not find it.
“Your Master is not from Luozhong; why would he have a favorite restaurant here?”
To this question, Qin Nai chose to shake his head in silence, so Yu Zaixi did not inquire further. When the wine and dishes arrived, he poured himself a cup, brought it to his nose to sniff, and confirmed the scent was acceptable before taking a sip.
As the sharp, spicy liquid went down, Yu Zaixi lost control of his expression. He quickly set the cup back on the table and laughed apologetically. “I am not used to the taste.”
Qin Nai smiled and poured him a cup of tea from the teapot on the table before filling his own cup with wine. They drank in silence, Yu Zaixi scanning the bustling scene downstairs, wondering what Qin Nai was waiting for. After a cup of tea, Yu Zaixi asked a very serious question: “Does the food and drink in an illusion follow the path of the five grains?”
Qin Nai paused, unable to suppress a laugh. “Little Yu, is that concern of yours not a bit superfluous?”
Yu Zaixi couldn’t help but laugh, waving his hand. “It is human nature.”
Before he could finish laughing, Qin Nai suddenly began to explain. “Actually, I am not waiting for anything. I was just thinking: you said before entering that you saw a person’s entire life, yet you also said you never entered the city. How did you see it?”
Yu Zaixi recalled the moment, let out an “oops,” and smacked his left hand against his right in regret. “I forgot!”
With Jiang Yan not around, he had been careless. But it did not matter. He grinned. “I was trying to fool you earlier to keep you from going inside, so I just said whatever came to mind. In truth, I only reached the gate; I never made it in.”
Qin Nai raised his eyes to look at him, his expression one of utter disbelief. “Actually, you went in, saw the person’s life, and came back out, did you not?”
“Ai!” Yu Zaixi clutched his forehead and laughed awkwardly. “How did you figure that out?”
“Your lie was full of holes to begin with,” Qin Nai said with a shake of his head and a sigh. “You are not suited for lying.”
If he says I am not suited for it, then I am not, Yu Zaixi thought, giggling as he slumped into a corner. “You are truly clever. I shall not lie in front of you in the future. But will others be able to tell?”
“Jiang Yan?” Qin Nai took another sip of wine, unable to be certain. “I do not know how he thinks of you. If he is genuinely at odds with you, he might not even care about your lies.”
“Why?” Yu Zaixi tilted his head, unable to fathom it.
“Because there is no need to care. To him, you are utterly meaningless.”
For some reason, the words utterly meaningless sounded incredibly jarring. Yu Zaixi paused, then laughed again, whispering, “Meaningless, huh.” His voice was lazy, drawn out, the last note almost like a song, but it blended into his laughter so well that Qin Nai missed the nuance.
Yu Zaixi kept laughing until Qin Nai, having finished half the pot of wine, finally realized something. He leaned over to look at him. “Little Yu?”
The call startled Yu Zaixi. He tried to sit up abruptly but failed, sliding down along the wall. He scrambled up awkwardly and asked, “What is it?”
“Are you drunk?” Qin Nai asked, surprised and amused. “You only took one sip!”
The remaining wine sat in the cup, rippling slightly in the breeze. Drunk after one sip?
Yu Zaixi stared at him, his mouth slightly agape, thinking something but saying nothing. A moment later, his gaze shifted to the street below. Amidst the gray and brown clothes stood a tall, slender figure. The silk on his body shimmered with dazzling luster, his white robes transcendent, like an immortal.
Yu Zaixi leaned over the window to squint at him, then looked down at his own clothes. Seeming dissatisfied, he muttered, “If I had known, I would have gotten myself some glow-silk. It is truly beautiful.”
Qin Nai rose and walked to the window, casting a cold look at Jiang Yan, who stood motionless downstairs, before sitting back down to warn Yu Zaixi: “Do not fall out.”
Yu Zaixi was never going to fall out; he would not be so foolish even if drunk. Instead, he jumped out himself.
In white robes with golden light, his dark hair like flowing water, he stepped lightly across the eaves and landed soundlessly on the street, drawing the eyes of many.
“Where is Miao Pei?” he asked.
The depths of Jiang Yan’s calm, stagnant eyes churned for a moment—too quickly for Yu Zaixi, in his sluggish state, to catch—before Jiang Yan turned his gaze away.
“Did you find anyone when you went inside?” Yu Zaixi asked, surprised. He had assumed Jiang Yan was in such a hurry to enter specifically to look for someone. He waved his hand. “Never mind. He is not my disciple; he can do as he pleases.”
After saying this, he leaned to the side, forgetting he was standing in the middle of the street. With no pillar or wall to lean on, he fell straight over. Jiang Yan stepped forward to catch him, but grabbed his right wrist instead. Yu Zaixi, lacking strength in that arm, let out a string of cries before being hauled back up by Jiang Yan’s grip.
Even after being pulled up, he complained of pain. “Why did you not just dislocate my arm?”
Jiang Yan was too irritated to respond. He twisted Yu Zaixi’s wrist and pressed his fingers to his pulse. Yu Zaixi, his drunkenness largely shaken off by the scare, pulled his hand back immediately. “No need, truly no need. I will do it myself.”
With that, he reached out to check his own right pulse, standing in the middle of the street for a long time, unaware of what he was even doing.
After a moment, he glanced at Jiang Yan like a thief, but the man looked entirely indifferent. Yu Zaixi then looked up to find Qin Nai, but the window-side bay on the second floor of the Changfeng Restaurant was empty.
Yu Zaixi was stunned. He turned his head slowly, confused. “Did he abandon me?”
Jiang Yan narrowed his eyes, strode forward, and said in a voice cold as frost, “Who cares about you?”
Yu Zaixi instinctively followed him, grumbling, “Can you not be nicer when you curse? You are like a child. Where is your composure?”
Drunk and unruly, he rambled all the way. Jiang Yan several times felt the urge to cast a silence spell but restrained himself. Finally, hearing Yu Zaixi complain about everything from the wild grass growing in the cracks of the stone path to the state of the street, the corners of Jiang Yan’s mouth quirked upward, an almost imperceptible smile.
Jiang Yan was in no rush to find Miao Pei. Instead, he led Yu Zaixi into an inn near the old City Lord’s mansion, where their rooms were adjacent. After surveying his room, Yu Zaixi finally sobered up completely and turned to look at Jiang Yan. “Why am I following you?”
The sound of a slamming door was Jiang Yan’s only answer. A dull echo reverberated through the room. Yu Zaixi slumped at the table, exhausted, and gave up. Being with Jiang Yan was safe, at least.
Perhaps worn out by the alcohol, he slumped onto the table and felt sleep creeping in. He dared not fall into a deep sleep in an unknown illusion, so he settled for a brief, uncomfortable nap.
Two hours of light sleep passed. When he woke, the room was pitch black. Yu Zaixi’s pupils constricted. He kicked his legs and struggled with his arms, lost his balance, and fell off the chair. He did not bother getting up, lying flat on the ground and letting out a long sigh of relief, unable to help but laugh bitterly.
Night brought a continuous, drizzling rain that muffled the world. Yu Zaixi lay on the ground for a while before climbing up. Before he could even steady himself, a candle suddenly flared to life in the room. Jiang Yan sat on the other side of the room, eyes fixed on him.
Darkness affected Yu Zaixi’s vision, but it did not hinder Jiang Yan; he had seen everything clearly.
Yu Zaixi had only just regained his composure and was in no mood to deal with him, so he rested his chin on his arm and stared at the rain outside the window. He could not see anything, only hear the ceaseless patter of rain, punctuated occasionally by flashes of lightning and low rolls of thunder.
“Miao Pei is missing,” Jiang Yan said, watching the rain along with him, his voice soft.
Yu Zaixi did not know if he should be worried. Logically, Miao Pei was Jiang Yan’s disciple, but after spending so many days together, he had found Miao Pei to be quite kind, if a bit dim-witted. If he worried, what could he do? With a Mahayana-stage cultivator sitting right there and doing nothing, what was he supposed to do?
“Why did you not go find him? If you had found him this afternoon, we could have left by now,” Yu Zaixi said, his voice thick and sluggish from his nap.
There was no telling what unknown forces lay in this illusion. Miao Pei’s Nascent Soul-stage cultivation was not low, but he could not afford to be careless. In such a small city, where could he have gone? Yu Zaixi blinked, thought for a moment, and gave up. How was he supposed to know where Miao Pei had gone? Although he was the one who had thrown the boy into the illusion, Jiang Yan did not seem anxious.
Jiang Yan stood up to open the window, and a gust of cold wind swept into the room. Yu Zaixi sniffed and looked at that back, feeling like laughing bitterly again. He had no more anger left; he could not beat him, he could not run, so what was he to do?
Yu Zaixi set a deadline for himself. “You promised to let me go once we reached Luozhong. Once we leave this illusion, lift the Heart-Pulse Curse.”
Jiang Yan stared at the rain outside the window and did not speak. The atmosphere in the room felt heavy, perhaps influenced by Yu Zaixi. Between him and Jiang Yan, it always seemed to be Yu Zaixi who changed the atmosphere.
Yu Zaixi shook his hand, staring at his long, slender fingers—no, Yuan Qi’s long, slender fingers. Even if they looked the same, this was not his body. He hated Jiang Yan to death. That was Yu Zaixi’s only thought, and at that moment, he wanted to curse him.
Jiang Yan had opened the window to ventilate the room. As the cold wind swirled, he closed it and walked toward the door. “We are not going out tonight. Rest here.”
Yu Zaixi continued to stare out the window, ignoring him. Before the door closed, Jiang Yan’s voice drifted back, clear as the wind and rain, piercing into Yu Zaixi’s ears:
“You will never go back to the Second Prison again.”