Lin Shijin glanced at Sheng Rufei, who gave a slight nod, and so he went over.
He reached Su Lian’s side. Su Lian wove an invisible barrier in the air and said gently, “You weren’t with Ye Lang. Why did you go to Sheng Rufei?”
“Ye Lang wanted to kill me, so I didn’t dare stay near him any longer,” Lin Shijin paused, then added, “Besides, he thinks I’m weak and doesn’t need me with him.”
“Wanted to kill you?” Su Lian’s expression grew serious. “What happened?”
Lin Shijin briefly explained. Su Lian said, “I’ll report this truthfully to Sect Leader once we leave the secret realm.”
“Su Lian-shixiong…” Lin Shijin hesitated, unsure whether he should speak. After a moment, he decided to say it. “I think we should look into him before handing him over to Sect Leader.”
His fingertips moved slightly, and his eyes behind the mask brightened. “I can’t shake the feeling there’s something strange about him… he doesn’t feel like an ordinary disciple.”
He didn’t know if it was just a misconception. Perhaps he was simply overthinking things.
Su Lian nodded mildly. “You needn’t worry. Leave the matter to me. Even if his identity is confirmed, it will still need to be reported to the Sect Leader. The elders of Shenxing Hall will deal with it.”
Lin Shijin nodded. Now that he was with Sheng Rufei, there wasn’t much to be afraid of.
“I called you over because I have something else to entrust to you.”
Su Lian checked the barrier again. The aloof youth in the distance had been watching them the entire time. Any abnormal movement and Sheng Rufei’s Yinbing Sword would likely be drawn in an instant.
“Do you still remember our mission?”
Lin Shijin nodded. Their mission was to conceal their identities and deliver a letter to the righteous faction. But now that their covers seemed blown, he wasn’t sure whether it still counted.
“As long as you remember. I’m entrusting it to you now.” Su Lian took out a wax-sealed envelope. The seal bore a demon-immortal motif, with a brazier at the centre, its flame seemingly alive.
“I won’t be able to remain in the city. The disciples of the immortal sect may soon face restrictions. The situation is a mess.”
“This letter is for you. Judge for yourself. Among the city lord’s manor, the demons, the immortal sect, and the Scourge-Slayer Envoys. Any one of them might be on the right side. Or none at all.”
Lin Shijin was startled. He understood what Su Lian meant. “None of them… what does that mean?”
“It means there is no righteous side.” Su Lian looked towards the end of the river, where a mass of dark mist lurked beneath the night sky.
“This is an ancient city that vanished from maps a thousand years ago,” he said softly. “People know only the general reason for its disappearance, never the specifics.”
“As for why I say this… you’ll soon understand.”
Lin Shijin was baffled. Why give him the letter? And what did Su Lian mean by not staying in the city?
“Su Lian-shixiong, why are you giving the letter to me? Where are you going?”
Su Lian gave a faint smile, leaned in to whisper something in his ear, glanced behind him… and disappeared.
“I have something more important than the mission.”
The back of the boat was silent. The water beneath the vermilion railing swayed with the current, moonlight spilling across it. Su Lian was gone.
Before he left, he had given Lin Shijin one last message… one which left Lin Shijin dazed for a long while.
—Don’t trust Sheng Rufei too easily.
There was movement behind him. Sheng Rufei approached. He didn’t ask what Su Lian had told him; instead, he took Lin Shijin’s wrist and examined it carefully.
Only when he was sure Lin Shijin was unharmed did he release him.
Lin Shijin remained dazed. Being entrusted with such an important task… he doubted whether he was up to it.
“Shixiong, do you know where Su Lian-shixiong went?”
Sheng Rufei had a rough idea. Glancing at the youth behind him, he gave a quiet “mm”. “He may have sensed something amiss and left early.”
The city lord’s banquet was far from simple… especially with the immortal sect disciples all present. The city lord’s manor might have noticed something.
Lin Shijin didn’t know what was wrong. He thought back to Su Lian’s words: you’ll soon understand.
They walked back together. On the golden platform, a singing girl was plucking a pipa. The vast river echoed her melody. She covered her face with a gauze veil, eyelids lowered as her fingers moved over the strings. The tune began lightly, then grew tinged with sorrow.
Below, everything seemed peaceful beneath the bright moon. When the music ended, an immortal sect disciple rose to his feet.
The moment he stood, the surroundings fell silent. He held his sword and spoke, “Today is the Ghost Exorcism Festival, Yixiu City’s annual celebration. We’ve been staying here for some time, and the city lord’s manor has taken good care of us. Tonight, we offer a sword dance to the city lord.”
There was no reason for the city lord to refuse.
The city lord, seated at the head, had not spoken once. His attendant spoke for him, and his attendant’s words were his own.
The attendant said, “Then we shall trouble you. His Excellency looks forward to it.”
The disciple bowed, whispered something to the others, and several lanterns around the golden platform were extinguished.
The platform gleamed all the brighter for it, drawing all eyes. Amidst the distraction, several silhouettes appeared upon it.
Lin Shijin watched, and quickly spotted something wrong: the immortal sect disciples on stage… were wearing the robes of Scourge-Slayer Envoys.
One wore the scourge-slayers’ uniform; the other wore a demonic mask. They exchanged blows. One was clearly representing a scourge-slayer, and the other a demon.
Lin Shijin understood at once… This was no simple sword dance. The disciples were trying to convey something.
The scourge-slayer swiftly defeated the demon. The demon collapsed, grimacing, before dissolving into black mist.
At the moment it vanished, a faint black haze curled around the scourge-slayer’s sword. He didn’t notice. He had barely taken two steps when two more scourge-slayers appeared nearby.
The moment they saw him, their swords were drawn. Before he could react, their blade pierced him. Blood dripped to the floor. His sword fell; so did he.
Lin Shijin stared, heart pounding. The fallen scourge-slayer dissolved into a cloud of black mist. A human face emerged within it… frozen in the moment of death, filled with bitter resentment.
“Shixiong… this is…”
He remembered. This was the one who attacked Sheng Rufei that day. It felt different from ordinary demons. Its resentment was far deeper, and unlike true demons, it lacked independent thought.
Others had noticed too. Murmurs spread through the crowd, yet the performance continued.
Every slain scourge-slayer transformed into a demon. That was only the first… Soon many more, tainted by the evil curse, were killed by their comrades; some hesitated, but still had to act.
One scourge-slayer couldn’t bring himself to kill his cursed companion… and paid dearly. The curse… was infectious.
It spread like a plague.
All the Scourge-Slayer Envoys were affected. Many fell; the infected passed the curse on to others.
All who were tainted were killed.
Killed by their own comrades.
The immortal sect disciple continued his performance. He wore the Scourge-Slayer Envoys’ robes, pointing his sword at another disciple in crescent-and-longsword robes… one blade clear, the other shrouded in black mist.
“It’s the thousand-year-old evil curse,” Sheng Rufei said quietly. “It once spread only among the scourge-slayers. Some say it was because their slaughter was too great; others say they offended a demon immortal, who descended and placed the curse upon them as punishment.”
The Scourge-Slayer Envoys had been founded to exterminate demons. Their hands were steeped in blood; they were natural enemies of demon-kind.
This performance was clearly aimed at them. The immortal sect disciples had found the source: the curse spread only among Scourge-Slayer Envoys.
There were sharp murmurs below, and the city lord’s attendant’s expression darkened.
“You mean… those demons causing chaos were once scourge-slayers?”
“No wonder they only attacked scourge-slayers… it’s their own karma. The city’s whole defence is in their hands. If word gets out, and they collaborate with the demons…”
“Are we certain the curse only spreads among them? What if it infects ordinary people…? That would be disastrous.”
Fear rippled through the crowd. Someone complained, “They’ve killed too many. Being cursed serves them right. They might survive it, but if we’re infected… we won’t be so lucky.”
“If they’re already cursed, why does the city lord still use them…? Why not work with the immortal sect?”
No one spoke. Silence was enough of an answer.
The scourge-slayers guarding the banquet stood motionless like silent statues carrying out their duty. These comments meant nothing to them.
“Shixiong… is that performance real?”
Sheng Rufei didn’t reply. His gaze sharpened. He suddenly turned, raised his hand, and set down a barrier around Lin Shijin.
“Stay here. Don’t wander. I’ll come back for you.”
“Shixiong?” Lin Shijin was utterly at a loss. Before he could even ask what was happening, a heavy bang resounded from the distance. Several disciples of the immortal sects on the golden platform were blasted several metres away. A faint black miasma had begun to coil around the stage, and thick, murky fog billowed outward in rolling waves.
Chaos erupted aboard the pleasure barge. Lin Shijin remained rooted to the spot as the black mist swallowed the sky above them, blotting out the bright full moon.
He tightened his grip on his sword. Within the fog he could make out countless indistinct human faces… faces frozen in the moment of death. Some contorted in pain, some filled with bitter resentment, some twisted into ferocity, and some wept in helpless grief.
Faint cries drifted from deep within the roiling darkness. The lanterns aboard the boat sputtered out. A great burst of fire flared along the gunwales, casting wild shadows. Screams rose from the crowd, and half the heavens turned crimson beneath the blaze.
Lin Shijin stared at those flickering faces. A sharp, inexplicable pain clenched his chest; his gaze blurred for a moment, and he took an unconscious step back.
A figure materialised within the black mist.
Through the drifting veil, Lin Shijin locked eyes with him across the air. He caught only a glimpse of an embroidered crane’s-cry motif; the man’s silhouette was swallowed by the darkness. A deep, resonant voice brushed past his ear.
—Come to me.
*
Author’s Note:
There’s no helping it. Plot must appear sooner or later. Some of it simply has to be written. If I’m writing plot-heavy chapters, I’ll try to update a bit more. Have I wronged you, my dears? Mwah mwah mwah.
