“Eldest Sister, it was all my fault this time. If I hadn’t heard Constable Zhang and the others were heading up the mountain to hunt the tiger, I wouldn't have tagged along out of curiosity.
“If not for my willfulness, I wouldn't have caused you so much worry, nor would I have ended up so badly hurt.”
Nan Yi’s attitude in admitting his fault was exceedingly sincere, showing not the slightest hint of anything amiss.
It was as if that day, he had truly gone up the mountain with Zhang Long purely out of curiosity.
Nan Yi’s room was far cruder than the sisters’.
Aside from a bed and a lame-legged table, the room only had half a window facing away from the sun.
If someone stepped inside, there was barely enough space to stretch one’s arms.
As he spoke, Nan Yi lay face down on the bed with a cotton quilt over him, a pair of books casually tossed beside his hand.
These were not proper school texts, but rather looked like biographical miscellany, likely brought by Nan Ye to help him pass the time.
Nan Zhi had always felt that Nan Yi was a rather strange NPC.
Whether it was his startled expression when they first met, or his subsequent probing attempts and repeated verbal maneuvers to push her away, it all felt peculiar.
If Nan Yi had noticed something and was deliberately testing her, that would be one thing.
Yet, curiously, he had never exposed her in front of the Nan couple, and his Favorability toward her was the highest among all the NPCs.
This was exceedingly odd.
Nan Zhi set down the medicine bowl in her hand and gave a noncommittal smile:
“Is that so? Brother Yi, you’ve always been steady. Why did you insist on following them into the mountains this time, causing everyone such worry? If I hadn’t arrived in time, wouldn't you have ended up like Zhou Dalang—becoming food in a fierce tiger’s maw, turned into a chang ghost at its beck and call, never to be liberated for all eternity?”
“I truly know I was wrong. I was too reckless this time.
“I thought that with martial skills like Constable Zhang’s, capturing the fierce tiger would be effortless. If I joined in, I would have an excuse to show my face before the Lord Registrar more often in the future, making it easier to secure a more relaxed job so I could help Father sell meat during my free time.”
Nan Yi gave a bitter laugh. Just as he tried to push himself up to reach for the medicine bowl, he accidentally jarred his wounds. Hissing in pain, he flopped right back down:
“Who could have known that instead of slaying the fierce tiger, I was nearly devoured by a demon tiger, and ended up being carried down the mountain unconscious by Constable Zhang. Ah, what an utter embarrassment.”
Nan Yi took the medicine bowl and gulped down the pitch-black herbal concoction in one breath, before grimacing with a deflated expression:
“Eldest Sister, please don't mock me. Besides, even if I did turn into a chang ghost, I would never harm others like Zhou Dalang did.”
Nan Zhi raised an eyebrow and asked seemingly in passing:
“You were unconscious at the time, yet you know all this? I heard from Constable Zhang that you got into a dispute with Zhou Dalang. He even made insolent remarks, blustering that he’d get the Wang family to step in and smash our butcher shop. In your fury, you gave him a punch and said his features looked treacherous and that he wouldn't survive the night. Brother Yi, can you read faces now?”
She had already questioned Zhang Long and pieced together what happened that night, which was why she asked.
“How could I know how to read faces? I just overheard others rambling and picked up a bit of it.
“In front of our butcher shop, there’s always a blind old man sitting there every day reading faces to tell people’s fortunes. Coming and going, it’s nothing more than the same few phrases. After hearing them so much, I just picked it up. That Zhou Dalang was a filthy scoundrel, accustomed to talking dirty and utterly lecherous. He died after being bewitched by chang ghosts, yet he had the gall to come back and help harm others. Truly despicable.”
Nan Yi muttered a few words, then suddenly remembered something, a hint of worry surfacing on his face:
“Eldest Sister, Zhou Dalang’s maternal uncle is Master Wang. He won't hold a grudge against our family, will he?”
Nan Zhi shook her head and stood to leave:
“Zhou Dalang wandered off alone, bewitched by chang ghosts and blinded by lust. He stripped off his official uniform and blade, was eaten stark naked by the tiger, and then turned around to help the demon harm people. If I were Master Wang, I’d be scrambling to cover up such a scandal, so why would he come looking for trouble with us?
“Enough, just focus on recovering from your injuries. I have my own ways of handling these matters.”
Nan Yi nodded obediently and went back to lying on his stomach to read, his boyish face showing not the slightest flaw.
Either he was truly harmless and she was overthinking things, or he was deeply calculating and absolutely could not be kept around.
Nan Zhi lowered her gaze in thought.
Whatever his origins, as long as he posed no threat to her, Nan Zhi didn't mind overlooking this faint trace of oddity.
If he truly intended to harm her, it was nothing a single slash couldn't resolve.
Ah, right. Her slaughtering knife was completely broken; she needed to find a way to get a new piece of gear.
Nan Zhi pleasantly shut the door.
...
With the White Tiger Demon Core harvested, the rest of its flesh and blood held little use.
Wealthy households in the city had offered handsome sums to buy the tiger skin and bones, but Nan Zhi politely declined them all.
In any case, storing them in her inventory kept them from rotting or stinking, and keeping them might prove useful later on.
With the ancestral slaughtering knife destroyed, Nan Dazhuang had moped in grief for several days.
So Nan Zhi spent some silver to have a brand-new set of butcher knives forged for him.
Ancestral slaughtering knife = very handy.
Buying knives for Nan Dazhuang = a few decades later, she would happily harvest another weapon that boosted attack power.
Just like reaping wheat—one harvest after another, on and on for generations.
How wonderful.
Nan Dazhuang had no inkling of his daughter’s little calculation.
The man, built like a black pagoda, grinned foolishly with teeth bared, pulling aside anyone he met to show off the slaughtering knives, boasting that his daughter had gifted them out of filial piety.
—Completely ignoring the subtle looks from passersby.
What kind of sane person gave slaughtering knives to show filial respect to their parents?
Could this be the eccentric quirk of a Dao cultivator?
They didn't understand it, but they were deeply impressed.
Ever since Nan Zhi returned home after slaying the demon tiger, the number of visitors doubled overnight.
Nan Zhi patiently received each and every one of them.
Unfortunately, it was either the family to the east losing a hoe and suspecting a demon had snatched it, or the family to the west finding a hole smashed into their water vat and guessing a female ghost was hiding inside.
It was as though Dingyuan County had turned into a gathering ground for demons and monsters overnight—except instead of harming people, these entities seemed particularly fond of playing pranks.
“Auntie Niu, as for the hoe your family lost, I suspect it has nothing to do with monsters. Search carefully when you get home; it’s probably misplaced somewhere.”
Between laughter and tears, Nan Zhi saw off another two suspicious neighbors who felt something was amiss in their homes:
“Uncle Zhang, regarding your water vat, just a couple of days ago I saw your little grandson being mischievous, taking a bet with someone to smash the vat with stones for fun! Why don't you go back and ask him?”
“Truly? Good, good! As expected of Eldest Sister Nan who knows magic—so capable! Divine whatever-calculation, finding the cause right away!
“That skinned little monkey, daring to play tricks on our family's drinking vat! Just see if this old man doesn't whip him thoroughly with a bamboo switch when I get back! That thieving monkey, that bastard born as a debt-collecting ghost, what sort of bird-brained nonsense did he pull?!”
Upon hearing this, the man in the short jacket instantly flared with rage, rolled up his sleeves, and stomped back.
Nan Zhi was speechless.
What did that have to do with magic?
And why was his stream of cursing so fluid? Was this a specialty of the Great Song?
Just as she was about to shut the courtyard gate, she heard someone stifle a laugh outside, letting out a soft chuckle.
Following the sound, Nan Zhi looked over to see a pair of young people, a man and a woman, standing outside the distillery doorway, looking at her with beaming smiles.
The pair possessed exceptionally striking looks. Both wore matching purple robes, with heart-protecting mirrors across their chests and official boots featuring Black Tortoise patterns on their feet, drawing the gazes of passersby.
The young man had handsome, refined features. His long hair was crowned, the strands slightly curly, and a folding fan was tucked into his waist.
His eyes were a rare deep brown, giving him the gentle, cultured, and genial demeanor of a true gentleman.
The young woman had vermilion lips, a red mole centered between her brows, and features as serene as Guanyin. Her sideburns were neatly styled, with a long lock of hair draping over each side of her chest.
A heart-protecting mirror also hung over her chest, and the hand gripping her sword was rock-steady.
Though her expression was calm and aloof like a snow lotus atop an iceberg, warmth lingered in her eyes when looking at others—truly formidable and breathtakingly valiant.
【???: Level 26】
【???: Level 28】
Oho.
Two Dao cultivators whose cultivation was on par with hers.
Her thoughts turned, and Nan Zhi instantly guessed their origins. She cupped her hands in a generous greeting:
“Pardon my clumsy eyes, but might you two be demon suppressors from the Demon Suppression Division?”
Rate on N.U.
