Chapter 45: The Past

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Ye Minwei was awakened by Axi’s piercing scream. She turned her head toward the tent entrance and saw Cangshu, Ayan, and Axi disappearing into the swirling dust. Suddenly, voices erupted into a cacophony of shocked and fearful murmurs as onlookers speculated wildly—was it a haunting or some spirit thief at work?

It was neither ghostly mischief nor spirit thieves; Axi had taken people away again, though in the past she only vanished under the cover of night.

Ye Minwei muttered, “This is bad.”

She heard someone shout to capture everyone involved and bring them back to the prince’s mansion. Without hesitation, she rose and fled through another tent flap, scattering the queue for bread and darting through the gaps among the refugees.

Some gossiping fool shouted, “Cangshu’s sister has run away!” Behind her, the sounds of hurried footsteps grew chaotic as pursuers surged forward, shouting for her to stop.

Ye Minwei ran from the refugee camp onto the bustling street, choosing the busiest thoroughfares to blend in, moving like a fish slipping into water. The prince’s guards chased after her, causing the crowded alleys to erupt into frantic commotion.

After a while, she darted into a narrow alley, taking multiple sharp turns, but heard footsteps and shouting both ahead and behind. The guards were splitting up to trap her.

The alley was long and narrow with no side paths. Ye Minwei glanced at the tall wall beside her. Just then, a luxurious carriage passed by, its curtain pulled aside.

Behind the curtain was the face of a middle-aged woman, unfamiliar yet striking—her delicate features framed by streaks of silver in her hair. Though her beauty had faded with age, her expression was gentle and serene, like spring breezes or the scent of orchids.

Their eyes met briefly. The woman’s gaze flickered, and she said in a deep voice, “Get in.”

Confused, Ye Minwei was pulled into the carriage. Immediately, the sounds of footsteps and curses echoed behind them. The pursuers, furious at losing sight of her, shouted, “Does she have wings to fly? Search the other side, others come with me! Stop every passing carriage and search them!”

Ye Minwei pressed against the opposite side of the carriage. The woman who had pulled her in calmly drew up the curtain and turned her head. The silver butterfly-shaped hairpin in her hair fluttered slightly.

She spoke to the guards outside, “Commander Feng, what is the matter here?”

The guards’ tone instantly shifted to respectful. “It’s Boss Qiu. We are under orders to capture a fugitive.”

This “Boss Qiu” coughed lightly and said, “So it’s official business. Then Qiu Sheng will get out and cooperate.”

“Boss Qiu, you’re frail. Don’t catch a chill. Fengyi Hall depends on you. Surely you’re not involved with this fugitive. Please return to rest.”

The guards, familiar and trusting of Boss Qiu, immediately allowed the carriage to proceed. Boss Qiu thanked them softly, composed throughout, as if she had not been the one to drag the fugitive into the carriage.

The carriage rocked steadily through the maze of streets. The shouts from the guards gradually faded until only the chatter of passersby remained, who gossiped eagerly about the recent pursuit by the prince’s guards.

Finally, Boss Qiu turned to Ye Minwei with a faint smile.

Ye Minwei, puzzled, asked, “Do you know me?”

Boss Qiu shook her head. “I only saw you once beneath Ming’an Platform. It was the first snow of Yujun. You held a persimmon cake while watching our performance and gave Minghai a silver ingot.”

Her description was oddly detailed, as if she had studied Ye Minwei closely and deliberately etched her image into memory.

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After a pause, Boss Qiu added, “You must be a friend of Master Wen?”

Ye Minwei was momentarily stunned.

Boss Qiu seemed certain of her guess and did not wait for an answer. She spoke gently, “Although I don’t know why you are being pursued, if you have nowhere else to go, you may come with me to Fengyi Hall for temporary refuge.”

While Ye Minwei found a friend of an old acquaintance in this unfamiliar place, elsewhere, after the dizzying darkness, Cangshu, Ayan, and Axi had fallen into a dim, cold, and damp chamber.

Cangshu touched the stone bricks beneath him—it was indeed the underground chamber he had visited the previous night.

Only a few hours had passed since then, and now he was back.

His body was emaciated, and the impact on the ground nearly shattered his bones. Rubbing his shoulders and waist, he struggled to stand. Beside him, Ayan sat stunned on the stone floor, eyes wide, unbelieving as he looked around. It seemed this was the first time Ayan had witnessed Axi’s powers.

Cangshu looked at Axi: the young girl lay unconscious, eyes closed, limp against the wall. This was not good—they would not be able to leave anytime soon.

Suddenly, Ayan snapped to attention, leapt up about a foot, and grabbed Cangshu’s sleeve, snarling, “Why did you bring us here? What do you want?”

“...Me?” Cangshu protested, feeling unjustly accused. He pointed to the fainted Axi and said, “It was your sister who brought us here.”

Ayan froze, then immediately retorted, “No way!”

“Indeed. When I first saw it, I thought it impossible too. Your sister is so young—how could she have such abilities? But then I thought, if she were truly ordinary or mad, why would the famed Nightmare Master Wei Jing have adopted her as his foster daughter? Ayan, I think you’re in deep trouble.”

With a few words, Cangshu turned the accusation back on Ayan, who blinked in confusion and stared vacantly at his “sister.”

Taking advantage of Ayan’s distraction, Cangshu moved aside, using the dim light from a torch on the wall to examine the stone chamber.

There was only one door, locked tight from their side. It seemed they were trapped.

This chamber was much larger than the one storing the azure crystals last night. The three of them seemed dwarfed by the vast emptiness, their voices echoing with every sound. Along the towering walls, square niches appeared at intervals, each containing something.

Cangshu stood on tiptoe to peer into the first niche. In the dim light, he made out a white stone ring resting inside.

It was the swallow fish ring, used to remove the azure crystals.

His expression gradually grew solemn as he fingered it, examining each niche. Every small square held a different spiritual artifact.

Looking up, he saw at least a dozen more niches out of reach along the high walls. This room contained more than ten spiritual artifacts, all sealed by mechanisms that prevented touching.

The Laiyang Prince’s mansion possessed a treasury of spiritual instruments.

The deeper they delved, the more unfathomable the secrets became.

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Even Ye Minwei might not escape unscathed if she ventured here.

Cangshu gazed at the artifacts and murmured, “All who are greedy and lose their hearts hasten their doom.”

Fengyi Hall was located on the busiest street in Yujun City’s West Market, not far from the prince’s mansion. Its three-story buildings stretched continuously, impressive and grand, rivaling the splendor of Zhuoyue Tower in Fujiang.

Ye Minwei was temporarily staying in a secluded room within Fengyi Hall. The hall’s business thrived, and Boss Qiu was busy handling affairs. After settling Ye Minwei, she left to tend to the hall’s matters. Except for Boss Qiu’s acquaintance with Wen Ci, Ye Minwei knew nothing of the connection between Fengyi Hall and Wen Ci.

Ye Minwei pondered that Boss Qiu seemed to hold Wen Ci in great respect, addressing him as Master Wen. Did that mean all the performers at Fengyi Hall were Wen Ci’s disciples?

So Wen Ci had taken many disciples before. Although Xie Yuzhu was the primary disciple of the Wanxiang Sect, she was not the principal disciple of the Dream Ruins’ master. If she found out, she would surely be disappointed.

Lost in thought, Ye Minwei scribbled on paper when she heard rustling outside the door.

“Minghai says the person in the room is a friend of Master Wen’s,” said a clear young voice.

A deeper, somewhat older male voice followed.

“The masters talk about Master Wen as if he were a deity. They say my acting is barely thirty percent as skilled, and my looks not even a tenth as good. I wonder what kind of person Master Wen really is, and if his friend is the same.”

“But Grandpa Jiang says Master Wen always travels alone, takes no disciples, and has no friends. That person in the room might not really be Master Wen’s friend.”

Ye Minwei glanced at the closed door, then, after a moment’s thought, gathered a stack of blank sheets and sat down by the door. She diligently drew maps of the underground chambers while intently eavesdropping.

True to expectation, three novice performers from Fengyi Hall began to gossip about Wen Ci and the hall’s history, embellishing their tales with a flourish.

They said that over thirty years ago, Wen Ci arrived alone in Qizhou’s Yujun City and challenged the drum king Shang Xiaoxing by name. The duel took place where Ming’an Platform now stood. They battled drums from sunrise to sunset, playing five exhilarating rounds that left the entire city in awe. Wen Ci lost only one round, winning decisively and gaining fame throughout Qizhou.

These three argued over how many drums Wen Ci had played for during the duel. None had witnessed the event, as they were not yet born. Some said seven, others thirteen, and finally even twenty drums, as if Wen Ci were the reincarnation of the Thousand-Handed Guanyin.

Though Wen Ci’s mastery of the Nightmare Arts to command twenty drums was beyond question, it seemed they did not know he was a Nightmare Master.

“I heard back then Fengyi Hall’s business was not very good...”

“What do you mean ‘not very good’? My master said they almost disbanded!”

Thirty years ago, Fengyi Hall was a small troupe with little reputation. Its leader—their official patriarch—was gravely ill, unable to continue. So their leader sought out the famous Wen Ci, hoping he would take charge.

The masters said Wen Ci was proud and solitary, refusing to join any troupe. The leader persisted, even fainting before Wen Ci once. When the leader fell ill, Fengyi Hall fell into chaos. Competitors and debt collectors appeared, threatening to seize the ancestral estate.

“Master Xia said that when Wen Ci had already ridden out of Yujun’s city gates, the leader chased after him. Wen Ci took him up behind his horse and rushed back. Once inside Fengyi Hall, Wen Ci berated the marauding wolves and tigers who had come, drove them all off, and declared at the door that within five years, Fengyi Hall would become the most renowned troupe in Yujun and all of Qizhou.”

The clear-voiced youth recounted the story vividly.

The girl whispered in awe, “Is that true?”