Chapter 2: The Abduction

Why did the Dream Masters set out to punish Ye Minwei? The reasons behind it were known clearly only to the immortals and the Dream Masters themselves. The common folk merely gathered for the spectacle, thinking that if so many sought to kill her, she must deserve it.

After all, Ye Minwei’s failure as a Dream Cultivator had happened twenty years ago. Many of those who once heard of her great fame had long since aged and passed away, lost to time and dust.

Though Xie Yuzhu was only seventeen and untrained, her father was the forty-eighth-generation Fire Dwelling Taoist of the Fuguang Sect. Her elder sister and second brother were both cultivating in the sect. The Xie family was famed among cultivators for their “silken robes and honored lineage,” running the most successful business of any cultivator clan, and among merchants, they were the best cultivators.

Thanks to this connection, she was well-versed in tales of the immortal world.

“The founder of the Dream Masters sect, Master Wu, is said to have died at Ye Minwei’s hands. The Dream Masters are justifiably avenging their ancestor,” she explained.

Pausing, Xie Yuzhu sighed, “Speaking of which, Master Wu, the lord of the Dream Ruins, was Ye Minwei’s closest friend. Ye Minwei lived in seclusion and had only this one companion. Though they eventually parted ways, they were friends for over fifty years. For Ye Minwei to kill him so ruthlessly—that truly shows her cruelty.”

Yunchuan, as if hearing a new phrase, pondered and repeated, “Cruel and ruthless... Why would she kill Master Wu?”

Xie Yuzhu leaned closer and traced a line across her neck: “A conspiracy exposed. She killed him to silence him.”

“A conspiracy?”

“That’s a long story,” Xie Yuzhu waved her hand, unwilling to elaborate. Then she added, “Oh, right, Account Keeper Sister, I forgot to tell you. I didn’t mean to make you take off your cloak this morning, not knowing your hair was already white. Sorry about that. Today’s meal is my way of making amends. Please eat without worry.”

Breaking an orange, Xie Yuzhu said openly, “Honestly, it’s my first time seeing someone with all-white hair who looks so good. Account Keeper Sister, white hair really suits you.”

Yunchuan glanced at Xie Yuzhu but said nothing. Though the scene was warm, their prolonged eye contact and long silence gradually turned the atmosphere subtle and awkward.

Finally, Yunchuan broke the silence, genuinely puzzled: “In this situation, how should one usually respond?”

Xie Yuzhu looked a bit confused: “Uh? Probably... say thank you?”

Yunchuan picked up her chopsticks, raising them before her eyebrows, then bowed slightly. Her back was straight, but her body leaned forward, her palms turning as she lowered her hands to her waist, like a white peony bending in the wind.

“Thank you.”

Xie Yuzhu choked on the orange, coughing repeatedly.

Perhaps because she’d been confined at home with little exposure, Xie Yuzhu found this Account Keeper Sister to be the strangest person she’d ever met—the more she got to know her, the stranger she seemed.

First, Yunchuan knew etiquette but often lacked manners, never addressing her as “Miss,” apparently limiting her forms of address to simply “you” or a name.

Second, Yunchuan was brilliant but often wildly imaginative. She could solve a nine-linked puzzle at a glance, and complex principal and interest calculations at the bank only required one mental run-through to get the exact figure. Yet her thoughts were so whimsical that after just a few exchanges, others began doubting which of them was sane.

Moreover, it wasn’t the first time Xie Yuzhu had seen Yunchuan holding a stack of ledgers, calling out to a certain Manager Zhuang in the five-drawer cabinet; or asking a large indigo vase where the ink was; or almost eating a whole ginger root, mistaking it for a potato.

This behavior worsened at night. Once, Xie Yuzhu saw Yunchuan talking to an orange-red banner hanging by the cabinet. She crept closer and overheard that Yunchuan was actually addressing the banner as if it were her.

So far, the only things Yunchuan never misidentified were numbers and persimmons.

Yunchuan had poor distant vision, though such a condition was not uncommon. Xie Yuzhu’s elder brother, buried in ledgers, had gone to a master for a pair of vision stones, which, perched on his nose, restored clarity. When Xie Yuzhu suggested this to Yunchuan, she said she already had vision stones but didn’t want to wear them because too many people surrounded her.

“I get dizzy and feel like vomiting when I see too many people,” Yunchuan explained.

It was the first time Xie Yuzhu had heard of such an ailment.

After days together, Xie Yuzhu guessed Yunchuan came from a fallen scholarly family, separated from her kin. Perhaps a shock turned her hair white overnight and clouded her mind, leading her to drift here.

Truly pitiable. Both were castaways of the world, yet Yunchuan was far kinder than Manager Zhuang and those servants who constantly watched Xie Yuzhu.

Within three days, Xie Yuzhu had grown close to Yunchuan, asking her daily to join meals. Their shared stories revolved around how Xie Yuzhu played the scoundrel, battling wit with her sharp-witted parents, trying desperately to escape.

That night, as usual, Yunchuan came to Xie Yuzhu’s room to eat. Barely standing firm, she was pulled in and the door slammed behind them.

The atmosphere was different this time. Xie Yuzhu’s expression was serious as she seated Yunchuan before her and said, “Sister Yunchuan, you’re the one I trust most here. We’re like grasshoppers on the same rope. I have a plan to share.”

Yunchuan turned her head, equally serious: “Why are we grasshoppers?”

...Why was she more concerned with the metaphor than the plan?

“That’s not important.”

Xie Yuzhu glanced at the shadows of two servants guarding outside the window and whispered, “I’ve been watching the defenses of the Zhaiyue Tower these days. Manager Zhuang is short-staffed. Most guards patrol outside the main courtyard walls, the gates, and entrances on each floor. Escaping the tower is nearly impossible! But the guard at my door isn’t very strict. I can sneak out secretly and roam inside, waiting for the right moment. If I can’t get out, at least I’ll learn more about those Dream Masters inside.”

“So you want to become a grasshopper and go out?” Yunchuan asked.

“...No, no, I’m not a disciple! If I knew shape-shifting, would I still be locked in here?” Xie Yuzhu pointed at Yunchuan. “I mean, we’re about the same size. I’ll wear your cloak and go out. You pretend to be me and sit here. They’ll think I’m in the room, so I can act freely.”

Pulling a silver note and a letter from her bosom, she handed them to Yunchuan: “If I escape, tell them I forced you to impersonate me, then use this silver note and the letter to leave and find my brother in Jinling. If I fail, I’ll be back before midnight without anyone noticing.”

Yunchuan took the thin paper, examining both sides. Xie Yuzhu took it as acceptance, clapping her shoulder: “I knew you were loyal, Sister Yunchuan!”

Then she deftly began untying Yunchuan’s hair. Having planned this for a long time, she was well prepared. They swapped clothes, and Xie Yuzhu styled Yunchuan’s hair to look exactly like hers, removing her own hairpins one by one and placing them in Yunchuan’s hair.

When the candlelight flickered, the shadow on the window clearly read "Xie Yuzhu."

Satisfied, Xie Yuzhu clapped her hands: “Sister Yunchuan, eat well! Stop holding your persimmon all the time!”

With that, she slipped out stealthily in the cloak. The plan’s beginning went smoothly; the two servants outside did not notice the person inside the cloak had changed. The figure melted into the crowd outside instantly.

Inside the room, silence fell. Yunchuan gazed quietly at the sumptuous dishes spread before her. Though Xie Yuzhu had just urged her to eat, she made no move, only waving her fingers over the flames, causing the light and shadow to dance softly.

“...I’ve slept for twenty years,” she murmured, lifting her hem to reveal a simple ginger-yellow cloth pouch at her waist. Flicking it with her finger, the pouch seemed alive, opening a slit on its own.

Yunchuan reached inside and pulled out a crystal larger than the pouch itself.

The crystal was strange, shaped like a rigid transparent ribbon, curved in an arc—thick in the middle, tapering at the ends, with a small notch at the lower center. If one were to compare it, it might resemble a flattened banana.

This was Yunchuan’s vision stone.

She placed the crystal on her nose, the notch fitting perfectly on the bridge, the wide arc facing her eyes, and the thin edges curving behind her ears, as if adhered in place.

In her sight, all blurred shapes suddenly sharpened, as if the whole world had stepped closer, pressing against her eyes. Strange blue symbols flickered rapidly across the vision stone, appearing and vanishing in endless chase, heading nowhere known.

These symbols repeated frequently, and she was now quite familiar with them. Raising her hand, she pinched her thumb and forefinger together and tapped twice on the table with her middle finger’s knuckle.

The blue symbols stopped moving, replaced by neatly arranged lines of text in her vision:

“White-bearded old man,” “Great magical powers,” “Reclusive,” “Omnipotent,” “Achieved Immortality,” “Master of the Immortal Sect,” “Genius in the arts,” “Ancestor of all phenomena,” “Law-thief,” “Ill-intentioned,” “Conspiracy”...

She made a few gestures in the air, and two more lines appeared at the end: “Murdered friend,” “Cruel and ruthless.” Raising her finger, the long list slowly scrolled upward. Each glowing blue word flashed before her eyes, praising and condemning, contradictory.

She had heard that the human heart was complex, that one person could have a thousand faces.

She had never imagined it could be this complicated.

After reading through the entire list, Yunchuan tucked the crystal back into her pouch and took the last persimmon of the day, eating it leisurely.

The night at Zhaiyue Tower was indeed lively. Outside came sounds of clinking cups, laughter, and chatter. Yunchuan ignored the sumptuous food before her, focusing solely on her persimmon.

Suddenly, the light dimmed, the window burst open with a bang, and the candle was relit. A sword hovered at her neck.

Two figures clad in black appeared in the room. The one holding the sword spoke in a deep voice: “Miss Xie Liù, we regret to trouble you, but you must come with us.”