Yi Moli had perished, and though the city of Yunhuang seemed to have rid itself of the supernatural, recently there had been signs of dark forces stirring once more.
The eerie old man had escaped, vanishing without a trace. Fang Songhe couldn’t rest easy, leaving early and returning late each day, determined to nip the danger in the bud.
Unfortunately, the old man had worn a mask during their confrontation, making it difficult for Fang Songhe to track him down in the bustling, prosperous city.
Chu’he, however, had dragged Ninth out to help. "Ninth, your bugs are so good at finding people. Can’t you send them out again?"
Ninth lazily chewed on a candied hawthorn berry and replied, "That man reeks of death. My bugs can’t track him."
Chu’he asked, "Why not?"
Ninth mumbled, "My bugs fly into graveyards to find corpses."
Fang Songhe wasn’t discouraged. "I’ll work with the authorities. Sooner or later, he’ll slip up."
Chu’he quickly added, "Ninth and I will help too!"
Fang Songhe smiled. "That’s excellent."
Ninth enjoyed being taken out by Chu’he because people often gave him treats, but that didn’t mean he liked having a third wheel tagging along.
No matter how many times Ninth secretly glared at Fang Songhe, the man remained oblivious.
After a long silence, Fang Songhe said, "Perhaps we should start with the painters. If we can figure out who the dark forces are after, it’ll be easier to find them in return."
"Wow, Brother Fang, you’re so smart!" Chu’he enthusiastically cheered. "I know Painter Gao. We can go to him first."
Fang Songhe nodded. "Good."
Ninth abruptly crushed the hawthorn berry in his mouth, the crunching sound sharp, as if he were grinding the bones of a sworn enemy.
Fang Songhe remarked, "Ninth has strong teeth."
Chu’he nodded. "I think so too."
And so, Ninth sulked again.
On their way to Painter Gao’s, they passed by a grand, gilded estate, where Ninth suddenly stopped.
Chu’he asked, "What’s wrong?"
Ninth lifted his gaze to the high walls. "There’s the stench of death inside."
Above the mansion’s entrance, a plaque bore the words "Li Mansion."
Chu’he was surprised. "That’s Li Doudou’s home."
Fang Songhe asked, "Has the Li Family recently held a funeral?"
Chu’he shook her head. "I know Young Master Li has always been frail, but there haven’t been any recent reports of his condition worsening."
"In that case…" Fang Songhe thought for a moment before approaching the gate. "I’ll pay them a visit."
The two guards at the door straightened at the sight of the refined gentleman. "What business brings you here, sir?"
Fang Songhe clasped his hands in greeting. "I am Fang Songhe. I wish to speak with Master Li."
The guards’ expressions darkened, and they raised their hands in unison. "No entry!"
Fang Songhe was taken aback. His reputation usually ensured smooth passage unless someone had something to hide.
"Why not?"
"Our young mistress has ordered that no one associated with the Chu Family is allowed inside!"
That Fang Songhe was a guest of the Chu Family was no secret.
Though the guards admired the legendary Fang Songhe, orders were orders. Their faces twisted in conflict, but they didn’t dare let him pass.
Fang Songhe wasn’t one to force the issue. Slightly disheartened, he walked back to find Chu’he and Ninth squatting on the ground, playing with ants.
A crumb of candy lay on the ground, and a tiny black ant carried it away from the leaf in Chu’he’s hand, only to be blocked by another leaf in Ninth’s grasp.
"Ninth, guess—is this ant male or female?"
"Male."
"Why?"
"Because I like sweets, and it likes sweets. Chu’he doesn’t like sweets, so females wouldn’t either."
"Well, I say it’s female."
"Why?"
"Ninth is lazy, I’m hardworking, and this ant is hardworking too. So it’s female."
"No, it’s male."
"No, it’s female!"
"Male."
"Female!"
The boy and girl leaned closer, their heads nearly touching, white and black hair blending together. Only Chu’he’s green hair ribbon stood out between them, like a thread of spring weaving through, dazzlingly bright.
Ninth, too tall, had to hunch over awkwardly to meet Chu’he’s eyes.
With absolute conviction, he said, "I’m so good-looking. Can’t you just let me win?"
Chu’he poked his cheek. "But I’m the one you like! Shouldn’t you let me win?"
Ninth pondered. "But I’m also the one you like."
Chu’he crossed her arms. "So we should compromise?"
Ninth nodded. "Right."
Chu’he grinned. "Then you let me win first."
Ninth took her hand. "Chu’he, you’re right. It’s female."
Then, eyes gleaming, he waited for her to return the favor.
Instead, Chu’he suddenly yanked her hand free, jumped up, and planted her hands on her hips, laughing triumphantly. "See? I told you it was female! You admitted it—I win!"
Ninth: "…"
Fang Songhe, who had been watching the entire exchange, couldn’t help but chuckle, his earlier frustration melting away.
Ninth stood, gripping Chu’he’s hand, and shot Fang Songhe a critical look. "Are you mocking me?"
Fang Songhe smiled and shook his head. "I was just thinking… you two are truly made for each other."
That sounded like praise.
Ninth’s expression softened, his striking red eyes glinting with pride. "Took you long enough to notice the obvious."
Chu’he pinched him discreetly. Remembering Black Goose’s words—"hitting is affection, scolding is love"—Ninth endured it with quiet satisfaction.
Unsurprised, Chu’he said, "The Li Family wouldn’t let Brother Fang in, huh?"
Fang Songhe sighed lightly and nodded.
Chu’he explained, "Our Chu Family and the Li Family are sworn rivals. They’d never allow you inside."
Fang Songhe frowned. "If, as Ninth said, there’s truly something amiss, I can’t ignore it."
Chu’he blinked. "Brother Fang, you’re a master of martial arts. Just fly over the walls."
Fang Songhe quickly replied, "No. Entering private property without permission is already improper. To force my way in with skill would make me no better than a bandit. Those who practice martial arts must uphold courtesy and righteousness. We cannot overstep."
Ninth glanced at Chu’he. "The more they refuse to let this stubborn ox in, the more it fits the saying among you Central Plains folk—‘a guilty conscience… con…’"
Chu’he finished for him, "‘A guilty conscience betrays itself.’"
"Right, that." Ninth sighed theatrically. "What a shame. The stench of death is thick and close, yet we can’t investigate."
Fang Songhe looked torn.
Ninth tugged Chu’he aside and whispered, "Central Plains people seem terrified of evil spirits. Do they often harm humans?"
Chu’he nodded. "Yes."
Ninth frowned in frustration. "That old man may have fallen victim to my gu poison, but he seems quite resourceful. He might find another way to prolong his life by harming others—who knows?"
Chu'he tensed. "That’s terrifying!"
Ninth reached out and gently touched Chu'he’s face, his eyes filled with pity. "He also knows gu sorcery. With a single move, he could slaughter hundreds. You Central Plains folk really live such pitiful lives."
Chu'he’s eyelid twitched.
Fang Songhe turned his back, clenching his fists. "I’ll be back soon."
In the blink of an eye, his nimble figure darted over the wall and vanished.
Chu'he shoved Ninth. "You deliberately provoked Brother Fang into doing something reckless!"
The boy looked up with an innocent expression. "I didn’t."
Of course he had. It was just like when the troublemaker in class eggs on the good student to misbehave—there was a peculiar sense of accomplishment in it.
Chu'he shot him a reproachful glare.
Unfazed, the boy even lifted his chin and offered a hollow compliment, "That lightness skill—so pro."
Chu'he felt as if a fishbone were stuck in her throat.
She never should have taught him all that nonsense in the first place!
