The carriage traveled slowly. It wasn't that they absolutely had to take a carriage; it was mainly because the two of them could no longer afford to rent a flying boat. Furthermore, a carriage was excellent for concealing their tracks.
The road from the Central Continent to the Northern Border had been trodden into a rutted, bumpy mess by refugees fleeing from the north. Coupled with days of continuous rain, the mud rose past ankles, and the wheels sank more than halfway in. Every few paces, they had to get off and push to get the carriage out of the ruts. Su Li leaned against the carriage wall with her eyes closed, though it was hard to tell whether she was resting or sleeping. Her phoenix was still curled up inside her dantian, yet to wake. Perhaps it had been beaten down too severely and simply did not want to come out for the time being.
Her spiritual energy had mostly recovered, but the singed fur on the tip of her tail had not yet fully grown back, leaving only a prickly down. Every now and then, she would reach back to feel it, frowning as she touched the spot, then closing her eyes with a sigh. Celestial foxes cherished their fur above all else; even as a half-demon, she was no exception to this trait.
Du Qi sat opposite her, holding a brush, with a blank notebook spread across his knees, filled with characters he had written while on the road. Outside the window, the rain continued to fall, pattering against the carriage roof like someone throwing beans overhead.
Clack. The carriage suddenly lurched to a violent halt. Du Qi, who had been mid-character, watched a streak of ink ruin his page, his lip twitching. He stood up to exit the carriage. “I'll go down and push the carriage out.”
“Wait a moment. We might as well take a break,” Su Li said, opening her eyes to look at Du Qi. The journey had nearly jolted her to death.
“That contract,” Su Li began, “will you really dissolve it once we reach the Central Continent?” Du Qi looked up at her and tucked his brush behind his ear. “Yes.”
Su Li stared at him, her gaze focusing, but she could not tell if he was telling the truth. She wanted to peer into his secrets, but in the end, she saw nothing.
Gritting her teeth, she threatened him, “If you lie to me—” She paused. “I won't kill you. Instead, I'll throw you into the Beast Taming Sect's pens and let the spirit beasts that haven't eaten for three days keep you company for the night.” Du Qi merely smiled and did not reply.
Seeing that he would not take the bait, Su Li turned her head away in a huff, resolved to ignore him. However, after a brief silence, she still spoke up to find a topic of conversation. After all, they had been silent for most of the journey, and it was simply too boring.
“How long did you stay in the Northern Border?” Su Li asked. Du Qi thought for a moment. “I can't remember clearly. Around a dozen years or so. I came here right after I was expelled from my clan.” Su Li did not ask why he was expelled, and Du Qi did not offer an explanation. The two lapsed into silence once more. The topic she had painstakingly brought up was instantly killed.
“What are you going back for?” she asked. Du Qi looked out the window. The curtain of rain was a murky gray, obscuring the distance. “To repay a debt.” Su Li glanced at him. “Whose debt?”
“I don't know.”
Su Li did not press further. She leaned back against the carriage wall and closed her eyes. She remembered when the Beast Taming Sect still existed; her father loved to sit under the veranda drinking tea on rainy days while her mother embroidered beside him. Finding it too dull, she would run to the back mountain to play with the spirit beasts, returning covered in mud only to be scolded by her mother. Her father would look at her with a smile, stroking her damp hair, and simply say, “Bring an umbrella next time.”
The Beast Taming Sect... Su Li closed her eyes tightly and rubbed her temples, suppressing the emotions rising in her heart.
She had not been back in a long time. The Beast Taming Sect was gone—or rather, the one in her memory was gone. The sect gates and the plaque were still there, but the people living inside were no longer those she knew. She opened her eyes and glanced at Du Qi. He was still looking out the window, where the rain was too heavy to see anything.
“Do you think he can still wake up?” Du Qi asked. His voice was quiet, as if he did not expect an answer. Su Li knew he was referring to Lu Yan. “I don't know. His spiritual sea is shattered to that extent; the fact that he can still hold onto a breath of life is already a miracle.” She paused. “Though your sister-in-law is tougher than I expected.” Du Qi did not reply. He recalled the sight of Jiang Ci carrying Lu Yan on her back through the rain. A tightness gripped his chest.
By the time the carriage finally hauled itself out of the mud pit, it traveled even slower than before. Su Li lifted the carriage curtain to glance at the sky outside; it was a murky gray, making it impossible to tell whether it was day or night. “At this rate, it will take several more days to reach the Central Continent.” Du Qi said, “There's no rush.” Su Li cast a glance at him. “Of course you aren't in a rush.” Du Qi did not reply. Indeed, he was in no hurry. For him, the slower, the better.
Central Continent
Bai Cen stood in the center of the Soul Hall. The Soul Hall was not large, with no windows on any of its four sides. Only an ever-burning lamp hung overhead, fueled by corpse oil. Its flame burned a ghostly blue, casting a light that made the entire room look like a graveyard. In truth, calling it a graveyard was not far off.
The four walls were embedded with wooden compartments, each holding a ceramic jar. The mouths of the jars were sealed with yellow paper, upon which names were written. He did not recognize those names, nor did he know their owners. He only knew that these souls were ones he had accumulated over the years. He was not picky; keeping them meant they would eventually come in handy one day. For instance, this time...
Standing before the innermost row of wooden compartments, his fingers slowly brushed past the ceramic jars. He stopped in front of one. This jar was a size smaller than the others, its sealing yellow paper already aged and curling at the edges. The handwriting on the paper was his own from twenty years ago—Madame Shen of the Jiang Clan.
He took down the ceramic jar, tore off the sealing yellow paper, and removed the lid. A wisp of grayish-white mist drifted out of the jar, within which a face faintly resembling Jiang Ci's could be seen. Bringing the jar close to his eyes, he watched the mist churn at the opening, listening to her wails. A satisfied smile played at the corners of his lips.
Of this hard-won material, he had only used half to refine the Truth-Telling Pills that he fed to Jiang Ci. The remaining half he had kept until now.
Carrying the ceramic jar, he walked back into the Elixir Hall and placed it on the desk. Then, he retrieved a jade box from the cabinet and opened it. Inside lay the Glass Sword Heart. The sword heart was no longer in the shape of a heart; he had cut it into four pieces, of which three remained, sharp-edged like fractured gemstones.
He picked up a piece and held it up to the light. The glass refracted a kaleidoscope of colors, casting mottled patterns across the entire Elixir Hall. He placed the piece of the sword heart into the elixir furnace, then poured the soul from the ceramic jar inside. The moment the soul entered the furnace, the flames within flared up violently. Bai Cen closed the furnace lid and took two steps back, staring at the dancing fire in the hearth. He heard the crackling of the flames—no, it was the wailing of a soul.
Outside the Elixir Hall, the rain continued to fall. A disciple knelt at the entrance, completely drenched and not daring to step inside. “Elder, word has come from Beizhou City,” his voice trembled. “Su Li... is not dead. She is already on her way back to the Central Continent, and she has someone with her. Their identity is unknown, but they appear to be a Confucian cultivator.” Bai Cen's hand paused.
“Not dead?” His voice was very soft, as if confirming the news, or perhaps speaking to himself. The disciple prostrated himself even lower, his forehead pressed against the back of his hands. “Yes... the scouts saw it with their own eyes. They are traveling by carriage.” Bai Cen fell silent for a long time, so long that the disciple began to wonder if the elder had forgotten he was still kneeling. He slowly turned around, looking at the grayish-white flame inside the elixir furnace. Su Li was not dead. She would be back soon. She would return with Jiang Ci's soul to claim her share of his pills.
She wanted to claim forty percent of the sword pills. But he had no intention of giving them to her. He had never intended to; he was merely using her. Once Su Li arrived in the Central Continent, once he successfully refined the sword pills, she would receive absolutely nothing. She was no match for him; she never had been. Of course, to ensure the pills were of the highest quality, he would have to secure Jiang Ci's soul with his own hands.
He smiled, a faint expression that vanished as quickly as it appeared. He stared at the elixir furnace and waited.
The flames in the hearth flickered, the grayish-white light reflecting off his face and deepening the hollows of his eyes. He stood there like a wax figure, completely motionless.
Du Qi and Su Li's carriage remained on the road. The rain had eased slightly, but it was still falling. Su Li opened her eyes and looked at Du Qi. He had taken out his brush again and was writing and drawing in his ledger, though she did not know what he was recording. She did not ask.
“What should be done about your Eleventh Brother?” she asked. Du Qi fell silent for a long time. “I don't know.” Su Li did not press further. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the carriage wall.
Traveling by night, the faint glow of the carriage lantern was too weak to pierce the darkness ahead. It was impossible to see what lay on the road before them.
Rate on N.U.
