After a chaotic hour, the inn finally regained some semblance of calm.
The crowd cast resentful glances toward the figure on the stairs, seething with anger but not daring to speak up.
That cunning, treacherous, and venomous Miaojiang youth was now lying with his head resting on a girl's lap, a damp towel pressed to his forehead. His strikingly beautiful face was flushed red, the heat from his skin causing the towel's moisture to rise in wisps of steam.
He seemed to have drifted into a daze, as if his mind had been hollowed out, leaving behind only a vacant innocence. His tightly pressed lips trembled slightly, and his eyes had taken on the shape of wobbly poached eggs, their outlines flickering unsteadily.
A perfectly fine young man—now thoroughly "cooked."
And the cause of this dramatic transformation? Merely the girl's words: "A match made in heaven."
Beside Chu'he sat a basin of freshly drawn well water, icy cold. She dipped the dried towel back into the water, wrung it lightly, and placed it back on Ninth's forehead, continuing the cooling treatment.
Ninth suddenly grabbed her hand, pressing it against both sides of his face. His blood-red eyes were hazy, his vision blurred, yet he still strained to focus on her direction.
With a plop, the little green snake leaped into the water, swimming freely like a fish and even blowing a few bubbles.
Everyone present knew to be on high alert around Miaojiang people, and they had mentally prepared themselves—but Ninth's methods still left them shaken.
This "plague of insects" had been unintentional on Ninth's part, and the venomous creatures hadn't attacked them. But what if he had meant it?
Of course, this also proved one thing: Ninth and Chu'he were definitely not spies from Yunhuang's Immortal City.
With such devastating power at his disposal, Ninth could have easily slaughtered them all—why bother pretending otherwise?
After this ordeal, the inn's occupants were all on edge.
Zhou Xian escorted Luo Qiaoqiao and her child back to their room before returning to the main hall, his patience wearing thin. "Jia Yi, if you suspect the evil spirit is hiding in this inn, just say it outright—who do you think it is?"
Since Jia Yi had gone to such lengths to trap everyone here, he must have a target in mind. Zhou Xian was certain Jia Yi already had someone under suspicion.
Jia Yi's gaze swept over the crowd before he spoke. "I've checked everyone's travel permits, and their identities appear legitimate. But no disguise is flawless—the longer it's worn, the more likely it is to slip."
He took slow, deliberate steps forward as he continued. "Ever since rumors of treasure in Canghaizhou spread, people from all walks of life have flocked there. But only those with ill intentions or something to hide would go to such lengths to conceal their true selves."
The crowd's eyes followed Jia Yi's movements, their emotions stirred as they silently speculated about his suspect.
"As I said, no disguise is perfect. Despite appearing frail and infirm, when dodging the swarm of insects earlier, your movements were anything but sluggish—your back straightened instantly, unlike someone truly hunched with age."
Jia Yi stopped in front of an elderly woman and her grandson.
His sharp, hawk-like eyes locked onto the hunched figure. "You're quite skilled. If not for that momentary slip, I might never have noticed."
The crowd's expressions shifted.
This grandmother and grandson pair had barely registered as noteworthy—their presence even less noticeable than Jin Yuyuan and her child. Could they really be the evil spirits in disguise?
The old woman coughed weakly. "You misunderstand, sir. With all those venomous creatures swarming, this old woman was terrified—I just wanted to survive. Facing death can make even the weakest summon unexpected strength. I have nothing to do with those evil spirits."
"Whether you're involved or not isn't for you to decide."
Without hesitation, Jia Yi drew his long blade, slashing toward the frail elder without an ounce of mercy.
Just as the blade was about to strike flesh, a clang rang out—a Miao knife intercepted the strike, sparks flying as it redirected the blade's path.
The once-polite grandson had transformed, his demeanor now cold and lifeless.
Jia Yi's face darkened. "I knew you were hiding something!"
His men reacted swiftly, drawing their weapons, but in the next instant, the young man wrapped an arm around the old woman's waist and retreated several steps with unnatural agility.
He flipped a table, blocking a flurry of blades, then—crash—the table shattered into splinters. Amid the swirling dust, a young woman's laughter rang out.
"Are all you Central Plains folk this dense? I said I'm not one of Yunhuang's evil spirits, yet you insist I am."
As the dust settled, a woman perched on the second-floor railing came into view. She wore an indigo-blue Miaojiang dress, its hem embroidered with intricate patterns. When she swung her legs, silver anklets glinted against her fair skin, scattering delicate reflections.
Most striking were the silver bangles at her wrists, their chime blending with her clear laughter—sweeter than a mountain spring.
Behind her stood a young man devoid of any vitality.
Black hair, black eyes, sun-kissed skin. His hands, gripping the Miao knife, bore nails as dark as ink. Clad in form-fitting black attire, his physique was undeniably striking.
Another Miaojiang native!
Jia Yi cursed inwardly. Just his luck!
One Miaojiang troublemaker wasn't enough—now a Miao girl had joined the fray!
The Miao girl's eyes, upturned at the corners, held a lazy, mocking slant—like a crimson serpent flicking its tongue, beautiful yet deadly.
"If you insist on labeling me as some murderous fiend, I might as well play the part."
Jia Yi's expression soured.
This Miao girl was brazen, her attire a far cry from the modesty of Central Plains women. Her slender waist was bare, her legs exposed below the skirt—her mere appearance had already captivated every pair of eyes in the room.
Jin Yuyuan turned away, clutching her book box and muttering, "Do not look at what is contrary to propriety, do not look..."
Just as Jia Yi was about to speak, Zhou Xian stepped forward, signaling caution with a look. Jia Yi held his tongue while Zhou Xian addressed the newcomer.
"Might I ask what brings you to the Central Plains, miss?"
The Miao girl blinked. "Treasure in Canghaizhou—you're all after it, so why can't I be?"
Chu'he let out a soft "Wow," murmuring in admiration, "Her voice is so... white."
Ninth, still enjoying his cold compress, snapped his eyes open in alarm.
Chu'he paused. "No, wait—her waist sounds lovely."
Ninth's face remained blank.
After another thoughtful silence, Chu'he added, "Her legs are both white and melodious."
