Recently, the usually peaceful city of Yang was abuzz with eerie rumors.
It was said that a demon known as the Mind Devourer could invade people's brains, probing their thoughts and memories. Those unfortunate enough to fall prey to it would be reduced to mindless husks, devoid of all thought.
The rumors spread like wildfire, stirring unease among the people.
When word reached the Chu Mansion, Chu Sheng, who was in the middle of breakfast, slammed his bowl down in anger. "In all these years, not a single murder has occurred in this city, and now this so-called Mind Devailer appears—right when the Merchant Guild's event is about to take place! This is clearly aimed at me!"
His outburst triggered another coughing fit.
Bai Lian hurriedly patted his back. "It's only because you're so capable, Master, that you attract jealousy. The Li Family has always been at odds with us—could they be behind this?"
Chu Sheng frowned. "That Li Big Belly has major business dealings at the guild meeting. He wouldn’t stir up trouble that harms everyone, including himself."
Bai Lian leaned in delicately. "Then who could be causing trouble behind the scenes?"
Chu Sheng was deep in thought when he noticed Bai Lian pressing against him like a boneless creature. He pushed her away. "Sit properly while eating! What kind of manners are these?"
Bai Lian bit her lip, straightened up, and clutched her handkerchief tightly.
Chu Sheng’s irritation only grew as he glanced at the young couple across the table.
As if sugar were free, Chu'he dumped a generous amount into a bowl of bird’s nest congee, stirred it thoroughly, and handed it to the young man beside her.
Ninth instinctively raised the bowl to gulp it down but, noticing the others eating slowly, set it back down. He awkwardly gripped the spoon, scooping tiny portions into his mouth.
Chu'he had never had much of an appetite in the mornings. After a few bites of flatbread, she lost interest and picked up an egg, peeling it slowly.
This was a new rule she had implemented since returning to the mansion—a boiled egg every morning. Of course, it wasn’t for herself.
Once Ninth finished his congee, a servant stepped forward to refill it, but Chu'he stopped them. She placed the peeled egg in Ninth’s hand. "This is the last bit of breakfast. No more."
Ninth didn’t particularly like eggs, but a while ago, after their usual fifteen minutes of pleasure, Chu'he had pinched his cheek and said, "You still need nourishment."
Chu Sheng snorted loudly. "After all these years I’ve raised you, not once have you peeled an egg for me."
Chu'he quickly peeled another and handed it over. "Here, Father."
Ninth took a bite of the egg white and, when Chu'he wasn’t looking, discreetly picked out the yolk.
Chu Sheng, who also disliked eggs, forced himself to eat his out of pride. Spotting Ninth’s evasion, he barked, "How dare you waste food by not eating the yolk? Shameful!"
Chu'he shot him a glare. "Ninth!"
Grumbling, Ninth stuffed the yolk into his mouth.
Seizing the opportunity, Chu Sheng split his own egg and stealthily tossed the yolk under the table, swallowing only the white.
Bai Lian’s expression was indescribable.
Clearing his throat, Chu Sheng asked, "Is Fang Songhe still busy feeding Song Chunming?"
Chu'he nodded. "Yes."
"That Song Chunming—even the slightest ailment takes him half a month to recover. How useless."
Ninth nodded in agreement. "Exactly."
He seemed to have forgotten that he was the one who had once kicked Song Chunming hard enough to break bones, or that his little green snake had nearly poisoned the man to death.
Chu Sheng eyed Ninth’s shock of white hair with distaste and sighed dramatically. "Fang Songhe is such a fine man—dignified, virtuous, and peerless. What a pity, what a pity."
Ninth didn’t understand Chu Sheng’s lament. Noticing Chu'he wasn’t watching, he sneakily grabbed two pastries and stashed them away for later.
Chu Sheng continued wistfully, "If only Fang Songhe had been the one proposed to back then."
Bai Lian sighed along. "Indeed. If only I were ten years younger."
Chu Sheng nodded halfway before realizing something was off. He turned to stare at Bai Lian.
Flustered, Bai Lian lowered her head and sipped her congee.
Chu'he tugged Ninth up. "Father, I’m taking Ninth out for a stroll. We won’t be back for lunch."
She nudged Ninth, signaling him to say something.
Ninth smiled. "Father, we’ll be back for dinner."
Seeing Chu Sheng’s face darken, Chu'he quickly dragged Ninth out of the dining hall.
Chu Sheng clutched his chest. "What does he think this household is? And he has the nerve to say he’ll be back for dinner!"
"Master, calm down," Bai Lian soothed, patting his back. "I think Miao Miao is just young and impulsive. She didn’t even consult you before getting married outside—she must have picked up bad habits from someone. She needs to be taught a lesson!"
Chu Sheng side-eyed her. "A lesson?"
"Absolutely!"
"Then ten years ago, when you came to me without consulting your parents and demanded I take you into the mansion as a concubine—should you have been taught a lesson too?"
Bai Lian: "..."
The memory of bringing Bai Lian into the household a decade ago suddenly struck Chu Sheng with regret. "Truly, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. It’s my fault for setting a bad example, making my daughter’s marriage as informal as a concubine’s arrangement!"
And wasn’t it true?
One witness, one meal, and the deed was done.
In the end, it was all his fault!
Chu'he had hoped to invite Fang Songhe along for their outing, but he had already left to buy medicine for Song Chunming. She resigned herself to the thought that they might run into him on the streets.
Ninth, exhausted from the previous night, yawned behind his hand, clearly sleep-deprived.
Chu'he asked, "Do you want to nap some more?"
His eyes lit up. "Yes."
"Just sleeping."
His enthusiasm vanished. "No."
Chu'he’s eyes sparkled mischievously. "Then let me show you something good. Come with me."
They headed to a warehouse not far from the mansion, typically used to store goods before distribution to various shops.
The guards recognized Chu'he and let them pass without question. A stack of newly arrived wooden crates in the corner immediately caught their attention.
Chu'he shook Ninth’s hand. "Open one."
Obediently, Ninth crouched and lifted the lid of a crate—revealing a dazzling hoard of gold, silver, and jewels that nearly blinded him.
He looked up, bewildered.
Chu'he grinned. "Now open another."
The next crate was filled with exquisitely carved jade pieces—ornaments and women’s hairpins alike.
Ninth ran his fingers over a pair of jade pendants, marveling at their smoothness. His voice softened. "All these beautiful things… they’re yours, Ah'he."
Chu'he knelt beside him. "To be precise, they’re the betrothal gifts you’re supposed to give me."
Ninth tilted his head slightly. "But I don’t have this much money."
"This was prepared by my father," Chu'he said with a smile, resting her chin on her hands. "I can guess his thoughts—he wants our wedding to be grand and lavish, with a hundred and twenty dowry carriers, not a single one missing."
Though Chu Sheng's words often dripped with disdain for Ninth, the outsider son-in-law, the wedding arrangements he had set in motion left no tradition unfulfilled.
Neither Ninth nor Chu'he, both carefree and impulsive, gave much thought to formalities. To them, a simple meal would have sufficed as a wedding. But Chu Sheng refused to accept such a crude ceremony.
Since the young couple couldn’t be bothered with the details, he took it upon himself to oversee everything.
Had someone told Chu Sheng years ago that he would one day fret over dowries for the brat marrying his daughter, he would have laughed it off as a cruel joke.
Yet here he was, doing exactly that.
Ninth, only vaguely familiar with the intricate customs of the Central Plains, had heard Fang Songhe mention dowries before. Lowering his gaze, he murmured, "I can’t afford such a dowry. I’ve embarrassed Chu'he."
"But I can’t provide a matching bridal gift either. Doesn’t that mean I’ve embarrassed you too?"
Half the storeroom was already filled, with the remaining items still being prepared. Whether dowry or bridal gifts, everything was a product of Chu Sheng’s efforts.
Suddenly, understanding dawned on Ninth. His lashes fluttered, eyes brightening. "Father?"
Chu'he chuckled, interlacing her fingers with his. "I just wanted you to know—my father may speak harshly, but he recognizes how sincerely you care for me. If Ninth feels uneasy coming home with me, my father feels uneasy too. Let’s give him more time to adjust. One day, he’ll come to like you."
"Are you sure he will?"
"Of course!" Chu'he cupped his face and planted a kiss. "Because you’re the one I love most!"
Ninth’s eyes curved into crescents as he nodded obediently. "Mm. I’ll wait for him to like me."
Breakfast left Chu Sheng in a foul mood.
Due to recent disturbances in the city, he had to meet with the authorities again, preferably to confirm whether dark forces were at play.
Rumors claimed the former lord of Canghaizhou had eradicated the undead scourge of Yunhuang’s Eternal City—so why were sinister forces stirring again?
As his carriage passed by, the hawker’s cry of roasted chestnuts caught his attention. Remembering Chu'he’s fondness for them, Chu Sheng ordered the carriage to stop and bought a bag himself.
On his way back, movement in an alleyway drew his gaze.
Almost against his will, he stepped closer—only to freeze in shock as a shabby-looking scholar stumbled toward him in tears.
"Master Chu! Kind Master Chu, save me! Someone’s after me!"
Chu Sheng recognized him—a painter who had once visited Chu Mansion to paint Bai Lian. Seeing the man’s disheveled state, he frowned. "What’s going on?"
The next moment, two black-clad figures emerged behind the painter.
Instinctively, Chu Sheng turned to flee—only to find two more blocking the alley’s exit.
Their white masks gleamed eerily, their demeanor even more unorthodox than his soon-to-be son-in-law’s.
The painter cowered behind Chu Sheng, trembling. "Several painters have gone missing lately—my neighbor too! None of them ever return!"
One of the masked men spoke. "He’s seen us. What now?"
"He’s the city’s wealthiest man, head of the merchant guild. Might be useful. Take him along."
Trapped between them, Chu Sheng’s scalp prickled. Swallowing hard, he bluffed, "Don’t you dare! I have close ties with the authorities—and Fang Songhe, the great hero, is a guest of my house!"
At Fang Songhe’s name, the assailants hesitated.
"Fang Songhe’s not someone to trifle with."
"Then we take him especially."
A chill ran down Chu Sheng’s spine. "Stay back! You know of Miaojiang, don’t you? Their gu poison can hunt you to the ends of the earth—no cure exists! My son-in-law is from Miaojiang, and we’re on excellent terms. Harm me, and he’ll make sure you regret it!"
Two sword hilts struck downward. Chu Sheng and the painter collapsed, unconscious, the bag of chestnuts scattering across the ground.
The lead assailant scoffed.
"Your son-in-law’s from Miaojiang?"
"Everyone knows Central Plains folk despise Miaojiang—let alone intermarry."
"Why not claim the Witchcraft and Gu Sorcery Sect’s young master is your son-in-law?"
As two men hoisted the unconscious bodies, another suddenly asked, "Rumor says the Sect still hasn’t found their runaway heir. Could it really be him?"
The leader fell silent before snapping, "You think this is some cheap novel? Coincidences like that don’t happen in real life!"
