Chapter 033: The Narrow Road

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Ye Minwei did not understand what had happened. She had never seen Wen Ci smile like that—not at her, nor at anyone else. Whenever he was before her, he was always filled with anger and indignation, helplessness and hatred, with words that seemed forever poised on the tip of his tongue.

For no reason she could name, she felt that there were things he had not said at that moment. Yet whether he spoke them or not seemed unimportant to him.

His eyes brimmed with laughter he could not suppress. His eyes and the corners of his mouth curved like crescent moons, and the hand holding hers was warm and gentle. The deity she had seen on the flower carriage, so remote that she could never touch him, looked so beautiful when he smiled that he seemed capable of rivaling the moon itself.

It was like a sharp blade sheathed in an intricately carved scabbard. Through the gaps, one could still glimpse the engraved steel and its cold gleam, but it could no longer hurt anyone.

A blade was most captivating when it drew in its edge.

To see him smile, she thought, would cost not merely a thousand taels of silver, but ten thousand.

“You…” Ye Minwei wanted to ask him something, but once the words reached her lips, she no longer knew what it was.

Wen Ci looked at her, then lowered his eyes, his drooping lashes concealing the laughter within them. He released her hand. The bells on the backs of his hands chimed unevenly several times, and he turned to continue walking, his steps still light.

Holding the fragrant dried flowers, Ye Minwei caught up and walked beside him. Moonlight stretched endlessly through the deep, secluded alley. As Wen Ci walked, he suddenly asked, “Was the Golden God Festival interesting?”

“Very.” Ye Minwei folded the handkerchief around the dried flowers and tucked the bundle into her robes.

After a pause, she said, “But Ningyu Town and everything within a hundred-mile radius will soon be buried and disappear.”

There was unmistakable regret in her voice.

From the golden-clad figure beside her came the reply, “Once the disaster has passed, people will return. As long as the people survive, Ningyu and the surrounding villages and towns will be rebuilt, and the festival will be restored as well.”

“Will you help them arrange the Golden God Festival again?”

“When I helped them arrange it before, it was because I felt it a pity that the exorcist dances of the ancient local stockade had been lost. Now there is no danger of this festival being lost. They ought to be able to devise many new variations themselves. Once you find the Nightmare Beast and I regain my freedom, I will come back to see what their new festival is like.”

“I’ll come back and watch it with you, too,” Ye Minwei said softly.

Wen Ci stopped. Ye Minwei took one step farther before turning back at him in confusion. The moonlight lay heavily in the depths of his eyes. Her reflection and the long alley gleamed in his phoenix-shaped eyes, while his emotions remained impossible to read.

“When you recover your memories, will you still come to the Golden God Festival?” he asked.

Following his lead, Ye Minwei asked, “Won’t I?”

Wen Ci was silent for a moment, then curled his lips in a faintly mocking smile. “You won’t. By then, your head will be filled with spell manuals and spirit-vein maps. How could you possibly take an interest in such unimportant things? Ye Minwei, you have always kept your word. Don’t ruin one of the few virtues you possess.”

He finished speaking and moved to walk on, but Ye Minwei blocked his way. Standing before him, she raised her hand. The wind rushing through the alley lifted her white hair across her fingertips, and she said earnestly, “I can do it. I will definitely come to the Golden God Festival with you. Let’s seal it with a slap of the palms.”

Wen Ci gazed at her, his eyes burning brightly. After a long while, he let out a laugh whose meaning was difficult to discern.

He raised his hand and slapped her palm. The sound was crisp and clear.

“All right.”

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Since she insisted on making that promise, if he was still alive when the time came, he would drag her there to honor it even if he had to seize her and carry her off.

No sooner had the clear sound faded than a cry pierced the night. Xie Yuzhu’s voice came from far away, growing nearer by the moment.

“First Master, Second Master! I’ve finally found you! Help me! Help—”

Xie Yuzhu came to an abrupt stop before Ye Minwei and Wen Ci. She looked up at their hands, still suspended in the air with their palms touching.

She froze for only an instant before delight spread across her face. “Masters… were you two just making up? Did I—did I interrupt you?”

Heaven had not failed her! After wishing upon the stars and moon for so long, had these two finally reconciled?

Before she could continue, a tumult of footsteps rose from the mouth of the alley. Someone shouted, “Spirit Thief, where do you think you’re running?”

Xie Yuzhu no longer had any attention to spare for the atmosphere between her two masters. She darted behind Ye Minwei and Wen Ci and pointed toward the alley entrance.

“Help! He—he’s trying to catch me!”

Ye Minwei and Wen Ci turned to look. Several people came running into the alley. All but one were identical in height, build, and clothing. They were Zhuo Yilang and the puppets he controlled.

The moment Zhuo Yilang saw them, his eyes widened. He stopped at the mouth of the alley, where he and his gathered puppets cast a vast, oppressive shadow.

Pointing at them, he said in disbelief, “Miss Su? Senior? And the Spirit Thief… You…”

The Golden God had no gender. The person dressed as the Golden God was handsome and striking; though the figure appeared more male, the face was unmistakably Su Zhaoqing’s. The white-haired young woman looked far younger than she had when she visited him that day, but she was clearly the senior who had helped him improve his Thread-Pulling Art.

Zhuo Yilang was thoroughly bewildered. He could not understand how these three people had come together.

Then he realized something else and said incredulously, “Did the Spirit Thief just call you two… Masters?”

His question echoed through the alley. After a moment of silence, Wen Ci slowly stepped forward, placing himself between Xie Yuzhu and Ye Minwei. He said coolly, “Yes. And what of it?”

Zhuo Yilang was startled again, but not by the content of his answer. It was the voice that shocked him.

“Miss Su… why do you have a man’s voice?”

“…”

Wen Ci frowned and waved a hand. “Is that any concern of yours?”

His voice suddenly changed into that of an elderly woman. This time, not only did Zhuo Yilang stare at him in astonishment—the other two turned their heads in unison as well.

Seeing all three gazes fixed upon him, Wen Ci raised his brows. “What? Have none of you ever seen ventriloquism?”

All three honestly shook their heads. Xie Yuzhu said in a small voice, “I thought your female voice was Second Master forcing your voice into a higher register. I even wondered how you managed to make it sound so pleasant.”

Her confession earned her a withering look from Wen Ci. Pointing at Zhuo Yilang, he asked her, “How did the two of you run into each other?”

The story was not a long one. Xie Yuzhu had encountered Zhuo Yilang in that narrow alley simply because she had been born unlucky.

Earlier, Wen Ci had reached an agreement with the various immortal sects. During the Golden God’s procession, after scattering the flowers, he would summon flames from the nightmare realm. The people would then witness an omen of disaster, making the coming catastrophe seem all the more credible. Although the illusion could not harm anyone, the people would inevitably panic and scatter. If the crowd was not properly controlled, casualties could easily result, so disciples of the immortal sects would assist in evacuating the people and preventing danger.

Thus, when the illusion appeared, everyone fled in a panic. Xie Yuzhu, as calm as her two masters, stood against a wall, cracking melon seeds and keeping out of everyone’s way. Unfortunately, the road she was on was rather narrow, and too many people poured into it at once. Several children and women stumbled and fell, on the verge of being trampled beneath the feet of those rushing in behind them.

Xie Yuzhu instantly threw out two clay figures. They transformed into human forms, lifted the children and women, and carried them to a wider place before setting them down.

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She was clapping her hands in satisfaction as she recalled the clay figures and tucked the Thread-Pulling box into her robes when she turned her head and saw Daoist Zhuo standing by the roadside, glaring at her with eyes wide enough to devour her.

Who could have guessed that she had been in the very area under Zhuo Yilang’s watch? She had used the Thread-Pulling box only once that night, and yet she had been caught red-handed!

Xie Yuzhu reacted with astonishing speed and immediately turned to run. Zhuo Yilang gave chase at once. Along the way, her puppets and Zhuo Yilang’s puppets exchanged blows in a fierce back-and-forth. She was naturally no match for Zhuo Yilang, but he was also responsible for protecting the crowd and could not devote his full attention to capturing her. Thus, Xie Yuzhu stumbled and staggered her way to the present moment.

Xie Yuzhu finished her brief account. Then Zhuo Yilang’s voice came from the other side—not directed at her, but at Wen Ci.

“Why is Senior Su protecting this Spirit Thief? She stole the Thread-Pulling Art of my sect. She committed countless atrocities in Jizhou and killed countless people. Her crimes are beyond forgiveness. I must take her back to my sect and answer for my failure to capture her!”

Zhuo Yilang pointed at Xie Yuzhu, who was hiding behind them. He was somewhat more courteous because Su Zhaoqing was present, but his words were plainly pressed tight with anger.

Ye Minwei leaned out from behind Wen Ci and said, “That is not the Spirit Thief you are looking for. The person you mentioned has already been killed by us. She has never used a spiritual artifact to harm anyone.”

Xie Yuzhu poked her head out from behind Ye Minwei as well. With someone supporting her, her tone became three parts bolder.

“Exactly! I’ve never used it to do anything wrong. What gives you the right to drag me back?”

Zhuo Yilang’s brows drew tightly together. He raised his voice. “The Supreme Clarity Assembly posted notices throughout the realm long ago and made the matter known to all: spiritual artifacts belong to the immortal sects that created the corresponding arts, and anyone who finds one must return it to the immortals. You obtained this artifact, knew perfectly well what you were doing, and refused to return it. That is theft!”

He then turned toward Ye Minwei and Wen Ci. “You both know how serious the matter of spiritual artifacts is. Why, after obtaining one, did you not return it to our sect? Why did you instead give it to such a young girl to use? She may be ignorant, but neither of you can claim ignorance. Are you exploiting her youth and naivety, using her to bear the blame for you?”

The young man stood tall in the moonlight, speaking with righteous conviction and ringing authority. What he said sounded reasonable enough.

It was simply unbearable to hear.

The moment Wen Ci heard it, he swung the wooden staff in his hand and pointed it directly at Zhuo Yilang’s face. The golden tassels clattered sharply as he sneered, “My disciple—who are you to judge whether she knows right from wrong, let alone instruct her?”

“If you call yourselves her masters, then you should teach her properly. That is what it means to take responsibility for her.”

Wen Ci lifted his chin and gave a cold laugh. “Disciple, let me ask you this. If you knew today that this Daoist was watching from a distance, would you still save those people who fell?”

Xie Yuzhu clutched Ye Minwei’s arm. After thinking briefly, she answered firmly, “I would still save them.”

“What if you failed to find us and this Daoist took you back and locked you in an immortal prison, bringing disaster upon yourself—even death? If you knew that would happen, would you still save them?”

This time, Xie Yuzhu hesitated for longer. She gritted her teeth and said, “I would still save them.”

Wen Ci smiled faintly and turned to Zhuo Yilang. “See? My disciple is perfectly fine. She knows right from wrong. She does not need anyone else to teach her.”

Zhuo Yilang disagreed. “Doing the right thing this time does not mean she will not do wrong elsewhere. Today she may use a spiritual artifact to save someone; tomorrow she may use it to kill. A person beyond supervision must not be allowed to wield a weapon!”

“How is she beyond supervision? As a disciple, she is governed by her master. As a citizen, she is governed by the law. She is not a cultivator, so why should she be governed by the Supreme Clarity Assembly?”

Wen Ci withdrew his wooden staff and drew a circle through the air before folding his arms around it. He let out a contemptuous laugh.

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