Early the next morning, Shen Hefeng went to find Wen Shuangbai, pointing at the nearly healed wound on his face. "Look at this, just look! All thanks to your man’s handiwork last night! A healer, yet daring to strike his senior brother—what a disgraceful act!"
Wen Shuangbai pushed the nosy Taoist away with a look of disdain. "...Who told you to stalk him and leave evidence behind?"
"I did it all for you!" The baby-faced Taoist declared with exaggerated righteousness as he pulled out a chair and sat down, clearly enjoying the drama. "But seriously, aren’t you the least bit curious about what Xie Ziyin was doing with that woman?"
Wen Shuangbai replied flatly, "No. It’s his private matter."
Shen Hefeng rolled up his sleeves and performed a divination on the spot. Glancing at the result, he grinned. "Lies! My beloved tortoise says you’re being dishonest!"
"..." Wen Shuangbai stared at him expressionlessly.
"You do care, don’t you?" Shen Hefeng, utterly oblivious to her annoyance, stuck on a fake beard and stroked it with the air of a seasoned charlatan. "According to this divination, you lost your closest kin at a young age. Outwardly sociable, yet you never truly open your heart, afraid to trust in emotions. Tsk tsk tsk, how tragic. Wen Erbai, let your senior brother remind you—you need to face your true feelings!"
Enough.
Wen Shuangbai took a deep breath, barely restraining herself before snapping, "Get lost! I need to cultivate."
By evening, she received a message from Lu Jiayao in their group chat.
[Lu Jiatu: Shuangbai, come quick! I spotted Little Yu at the night market!]
Oh?
Without hesitation, Wen Shuangbai grabbed her Mystic Heaven Mirror and headed out, pausing briefly to glance at Xie Ziyin’s room next door.
Empty. He was gone.
Ever since leaving the Divine Ghost Valley, the man had been as elusive as a phantom, never revealing what kept him so busy outside.
When Wen Shuangbai arrived at the night market, she found Li Zhuohua and Shen Hefeng already there.
Hiding conspicuously in the bushes across from the busiest tavern, the trio stealthily observed a private room on the third floor.
Wen Shuangbai crouched beside them, seamlessly blending in before whispering, "Jiatu, did you uncover Little Yu’s identity?"
Lu Jiayao nodded, discreetly pointing at a shy young girl by the window. "That’s her. Little Yu isn’t directly connected to Lady Di, but she’s the junior sect sister of Lady Di’s close friend."
Wen Shuangbai gave a slight nod.
Though the girl had no direct ties to Di Yanran, the connection was still relevant. Moreover, Shen Hefeng’s divination had marked her as the key to their investigation.
It seemed to be a sect gathering, with over a dozen disciples from the Purple Flame Sect present.
Li Zhuohua scanned the lively group and murmured, "Shimei, I can take them all. Should I just kidnap Little Yu?"
"Shijie, no!" Wen Shuangbai quickly stopped her. "If you get caught, it won’t be worth it!"
Elder Cao had repeatedly warned them to avoid provoking the Purple Flame Sect, especially now when they were itching for an excuse to retaliate. If Li Zhuohua were captured, it would spell disaster.
"Then what do we do?" Lu Jiayao fretted. "From what I’ve heard, Little Yu is young and rarely leaves the sect alone, always accompanied by her seniors."
"Relax." Shen Hefeng, however, remained unbothered. "Mark my words—this little girl will come looking for me."
Li Zhuohua scoffed. "Crazy Shidi, stop boasting."
"Shijie, it’s true!" Shen Hefeng insisted. "After decades of fortune-telling, I know exactly which clients will return."
Yesterday on Blossom Street, Little Yu had sneaked several glances at him before being dragged away by her seniors.
"Really?" Wen Shuangbai and Lu Jiayao exchanged doubtful looks.
"Just wait and see!" Shen Hefeng declared confidently. "I’m never wrong about these things."
Since he sounded so sure, the trio decided to humor him and held off on further action. Once Little Yu’s group dispersed, they left as well.
On the way back to Endless House, however, Xie Ziyin suddenly sent a message:
[Is the night market business settled? Need my help?]
Wen Shuangbai: [It’s done. No need.]
Xie Ziyin: [Alright.]
Xie Ziyin: [But I might need yours. Can you come to Blossom Street?]
Wen Shuangbai: [? What for]
Xie Ziyin: [I’ll explain when you arrive.]
Pausing mid-step, Wen Shuangbai twirled the Mystic Heaven Mirror in her hand before replying: [Fine.]
—
Night had fallen, and the temperature plummeted.
Under the moonlight, a thin layer of frost glistened on the rooftops.
At the entrance of a narrow alley on Blossom Street, Xie Ziyin stood with his arms crossed, waiting.
After a while, a woman approached soundlessly, her strides confident, the hem of her robes fluttering gracefully in the man’s line of sight.
Though his posture remained unchanged, the cold aloofness in Xie Ziyin’s expression melted away with every step Wen Shuangbai took. By the time she stopped before him, his eyes held a faint smile. "You came."
Wen Shuangbai studied his face, finding no sign of urgency. "What do you need help with?"
"Patience." Xie Ziyin tilted his head toward the alley. "Follow me."
"Ridiculous," she muttered under her breath but shrugged and trailed behind him.
She was determined to uncover what he was scheming. Lately, he’d been acting strange—was he cursed or something?
Just as the thought crossed her mind, Xie Ziyin asked, "Did you find any leads at the night market?"
Wen Shuangbai shook her head. "Not really. Shen Hefeng said to leave it to him, so we backed off."
Xie Ziyin raised a brow. "And you actually believed him?"
"Gave him the benefit of the doubt," she said. "He’s occasionally reliable."
Xie Ziyin hummed noncommittally.
Their conversation lulled as they reached a small courtyard.
Wen Shuangbai glanced up, recognizing it as the place Shen Hefeng had mentioned—where Xie Ziyin had met that woman yesterday.
The wooden gate creaked open as Xie Ziyin pushed it aside.
Peering over his shoulder, Wen Shuangbai froze at the sight before her.
The quaint courtyard was adorned with exquisite lanterns, and beneath the largest plum tree stood a lavish feast.
Though winter had begun, the plum blossoms had yet to bloom—only tiny buds dotted the branches.
Wen Shuangbai murmured, "What day is it today?"
"Three days before Frost's Descent," Xie Ziyin replied, looking down at her, his cool voice laced with endless tenderness. "Happy birthday, Miss Wen."
"You…" Wen Shuangbai met his gaze, her heart rippling with emotion, but all she managed to say was, "You actually read my essay??"
She and the original owner of this body shared the same name, partly because their birthdays were somewhat tied to the solar term "Frost's Descent." The original owner’s birthday fell on the day of Frost's Descent, while hers was three days before.
In an essay about happiness, Wen Shuangbai had once written: My birthday is three days before Frost's Descent. Every year, my parents would buy me a cake…
But after her parents passed away one after another, no one remembered the date anymore.
Eventually, even she forgot.
Not remembering meant she wouldn’t feel that hollow ache in her chest when the day arrived—like the world had forgotten and abandoned her.
Even when coworkers casually asked, Wen Shuangbai would only say she didn’t like celebrating birthdays.
She had never told anyone the actual date, and even the one on her ID card was incorrect.
Yet somehow, he knew.
"Sorry, I didn’t mean to see it," Xie Ziyin said, closing the courtyard gate before guiding her to her seat with gentlemanly courtesy. "Your essay just happened to fall in front of me."
Back in the illusion at Shen Gui Valley, Wen Shuangbai had handed her bag to Xie Ziyin outside the hospital room while confronting her parents inside.
During his battle with the ghosts, the bag was torn, and the essay slipped out—impossible for him to miss.
Was it his fault he had a photographic memory?
Wen Shuangbai opened her mouth. "So it’s my essay’s fault?"
"No, I never said that," Xie Ziyin replied, recalling her writing with a hint of amusement. "It was well-written, though."
She didn’t hold back. "Thanks, I think so too."
Xie Ziyin chuckled softly, tapping the table three times with his fingertips.
The next moment, the kitchen door swung open, and a woman emerged carrying a birthday cake, placing it before Wen Shuangbai.
The woman bowed slightly. "Happy birthday, miss. May all your wishes come true."
Wen Shuangbai’s gaze flickered over the traces of pastry on the woman’s sleeves before she nodded. "Thank you."
With a quiet smile, the woman retreated, leaving the courtyard to the two of them.
Now, everything made sense.
These past few days, Xie Ziyin had been preparing all this—even this cake, something that shouldn’t exist in this world.
She glanced down.
Beneath the plum blossom tree, right beside her foot, sat an exquisitely wrapped sandalwood box tied with a ribbon. Clearly, his gift.
Though she hadn’t opened it yet and didn’t know what was inside, she could sense the faint pulse of spiritual energy emanating from within. Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been cheap.
"She’s a renowned pastry chef from Baihua Street. I asked her to figure out how to make a cake," Xie Ziyin explained as he lit the candles one by one. "Ready to make a wish?"
The candlelight flickered to life before her.
Through the glow, Wen Shuangbai suddenly looked at him. "Do you celebrate birthdays for all your friends?"
"Of course not," Xie Ziyin paused, the words lingering on his tongue before he finally lifted his eyes.
In the depths of his dark pupils, her reflection swayed with the candlelight as he smiled faintly and said, "Only for the ones I like."
