◎Stop Pretending to Be a Gentleman◎
Xue Qionglou was seated in a secluded corner.
The dim candlelight cast the space into a shadowy valley, yet he himself was like jade naturally formed—jade in the mountain nourishing the trees, jade hidden in stone illuminating the peaks. He resembled the bright moon at the horizon where the sea met the night sky, burning a radiant hole through the darkness.
When Bai Li and Jiang Biehan finally found him, he had a book resting on his lap, engrossed in reading without distraction. His snow-white silk robe, exquisitely crafted and meticulously tailored, draped elegantly over his frame, while a finely carved mutton-fat jade pendant hung neatly at his waist—his entire presence was like drifting mist and flowing smoke.
He never missed an opportunity to put on an act.
To Bai Li, he looked more like a sticky sesame-filled glutinous rice ball clinging to the bottom of a pitch-black pot.
"Fellow Daoist Xue," Jiang Biehan said, sounding like an insurance salesman as he patted Bai Li’s shoulder and effortlessly promoted her medical skills. "Didn’t you get injured earlier? This fellow cultivator specializes in healing arts. How about letting her take a look?"
Xue Qionglou lifted his gaze from the book and politely stood up.
"Thank you for your concern, Fellow Daoist Jiang." His eyes shifted to Bai Li, meeting hers unexpectedly. The corners of his lips curved into a flawless, jade-like smile, his demeanor impeccable. "Then I’ll trouble this fellow cultivator for her assistance."
She really wanted to punch him in the face—just to see if she could squeeze the sesame filling out of this sticky rice ball.
Bai Li forced a stiff, reluctant smile. "No trouble at all."
A small incense table stood in the corner, flanked by two meticulously placed chairs, carving out a quiet little haven in the otherwise noisy hall. Jiang Biehan lingered nearby, but before long, a sword sect disciple called him away, leaving only the two of them.
Wait, Brother Jiang, don’t leave! I don’t want to handle this alone!
Bai Li sat as if on pins and needles. When she looked up, she met Xue Qionglou’s concerned gaze. "Fellow Daoist, are you feeling hot?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, a chilly night wind swept through the hall, making Bai Li shiver violently. She sneezed several times. With an apologetic flick of his hand, the wind abruptly stopped, the rustling pages of his book fell still, and the warmth of the crowded hall rushed back in.
"Ah, so Fellow Daoist is cold."
So you’re blind, huh?
Bai Li took a deep breath, steadying herself before rolling up his sleeve. Beneath the wide cuff was a fitted wrist guard, the pristine white silk now soaked crimson with blood. The fabric clung to his flesh, his entire forearm horrifically mangled—a sight that made her stomach churn.
Just as she suspected—a sword wound.
"Fellow Daoist Bai?"
She snapped out of her thoughts and met his smiling eyes. "What has you so captivated?"
Your injury, obviously.
"Nothing much," Bai Li replied dismissively, pulling out a small celadon vial. She pinched a few medicinal pellets into it and began grinding them with a pestle.
Xue Qionglou flipped a page of his book, chatting idly. "Fellow Daoist also shares the surname Bai? What a coincidence—it’s the same as a passing acquaintance of mine."
What kind of grammar is "a passing acquaintance"? Is he testing her?
"Is that so? Shared surnames aren’t uncommon," Bai Li said, straightening slightly and feigning nonchalance. "Where is this passing acquaintance of yours now?"
Xue Qionglou glanced at her.
Bai Li put on a righteous front. "If she’s injured, I might as well treat her too."
"How benevolent of you, Fellow Daoist Bai. What a shame." He leaned lazily against the armrest. "She might have been eaten by wolves."
Bai Li: "..." Miscalculation. This guy has no conscience whatsoever.
She forced a smile. "How do you know that?"
"That area is frequented by wolf packs, and there are man-eating snakes too." He paused mid-page turn. "Now that I think about it, I’m suddenly a little worried for her."
A flicker of hope rose in Bai Li. "Why don’t you go look for her? There’s still time."
"I’d like to, but—"
"But what?"
"But I’ve forgotten what she looks like." Xue Qionglou smiled apologetically. "Unless someone is breathtakingly beautiful or hideously ugly, I tend to be face-blind."
Bai Li: "..." This guy is the king of all dogs.
She pressed her lips together and focused on scooping out the medicinal paste, slathering it onto his wound with ruthless efficiency. Xue Qionglou flinched, his book slipping onto the table.
"Fellow Daoist Bai, have you truly studied the healing arts?"
He emphasized the word "studied."
"Nope, I’m still in training." Bai Li puffed out her chest, utterly unashamed. "But for someone with good character, the odds of survival are high. You have nothing to worry about, Fellow Daoist Xue."
"..."
Having scored a point, Bai Li smirked in satisfaction. Her gaze inadvertently landed on the book’s title—Strange Tales from Three Moments of Amazement.
"Is this a mortal-world storybook?"
Xue Qionglou smoothed the page with his jade-like fingers, lips quirking. "Indeed. The chapter I’m reading tells of an unlucky drunk who hid in a cabinet, only to be discovered by his adulterous wife and her lover. They murdered him and disposed of the body."
He paused, then added with feigned courtesy, "My apologies. Fellow Daoist Bai has no partner yet—I shouldn’t speak of such matters in front of you."
Too late for that act!
Bai Li waved a hand dismissively. "No worries. I’ve seen pigs run—more than once, in fact."
"..."
"So, Fellow Daoist Xue, what exactly did you want to ask?"
His fingers brushed the page with a soft rustle, his earlier casual demeanor gone. "The drunkard was too intoxicated to see clearly, but hiding in a cabinet of all places made him look guilty beyond doubt."
Xue Qionglou blinked, as if genuinely discussing the plot. "Tell me, Fellow Daoist—did that drunkard deserve to die?"
If Bai Li didn’t realize what he was getting at now, she’d be hopelessly dense.
He was probing whether she had truly been unconscious or pretending.
After a moment’s thought, she asked, "Were the three of them acquainted?"
Xue Qionglou nodded, eyes teasing. "The man sleeping with his wife was the drunkard’s close friend."
"Ah, then it’s even simpler." Bai Li smacked the table. "Have you ever heard this saying, Fellow Daoist Xue? When a person finds someone they love, it brings one joy. When they find a lifelong friend, it brings another. When these two joys overlap, they create double the happiness—and this double happiness can lead to even more joy."
Xue Qionglou froze, his expression twisting slightly. "What does that mean?"
"What I mean is, that drunkard should’ve jumped out and happily joined them!"
Xue Qionglou: "..."
"To be honest, my homeland has similar tales. But instead of a magistrate solving the case, it’s a seven-year-old child. In that world, the drunkard could’ve swallowed a pill to shrink his body, shot two darts to knock out the adulterers, and slipped away unnoticed!"
"..."
Xue Qionglou’s eyes widened slightly, as if he’d been so thoroughly derailed that he forgot his original purpose.
Bai Li’s hand paused as she twisted the medicine jar. The ebony desk accentuated her jade-like skin, delicate as gossamer. That fleeting glimpse of radiance vanished as quickly as it appeared, retreating back into her sleeve. She met his dark, fathomless gaze. "Daoist Xue, what’s wrong?"
"Nothing." His eyes seemed to speak, shifting from stormy gloom to a sky full of stars. "Forget what I just said."
Bai Li muttered under her breath, "Stop talking in riddles!"
"What did you say?" He smiled as he looked at her.
Bai Li raised her voice. "I said, I have a riddle of my own to discuss with you."
Xue Qionglou gave a slight nod, his tone indifferent. "Do tell."
"A hunter goes into the forest with only two arrows left. He sees a gorilla. The gorilla catches the first arrow with its left hand and the second with its right. But the gorilla still dies. Why?"
Xue Qionglou’s fingers stilled on the page he was reading. His brows slowly furrowed as he stared at the book, lost in thought for what felt like half a cup of tea’s time. Finally, he lifted his gaze. "Why?"
Bai Li grinned. "Because the gorilla was too happy."
His dark eyes remained puzzled.
"When gorillas get too happy, they beat their chests with their fists. So it stabbed itself to death."
"..."
Xue Qionglou smiled, though the warmth didn’t reach his eyes. "Daoist Bai seems quite bored?"
"Yep, bored to death. Someone hit me earlier, and my head still hurts." Bai Li theatrically rubbed her forehead, which bore no trace of injury. "Daoist Xue, could you lend me that book to pass the time?"
Xue Qionglou blinked, clearly caught off guard by the request. He gave her a strange look. "I haven’t finished reading it."
"No problem. I’ll read it for you—and I’ll even mark out the culprit for you."
"..."
Xue Qionglou closed the book. "I’ll lend it to you, but if you really dare to spoil the killer..." His eyes sparkled with mischief, his lips curling into a dazzling smile. "There are fifteen deaths across fifteen chapters. Pick one for yourself."
A chill ran down Bai Li’s spine. She forced a laugh. "Just kidding! Forget what I said. I’m not the type to spoil things."
Xue Qionglou lowered his gaze, his eyes rippling with unreadable emotions.
He prided himself on his worldly experience, capable of standing alone even within his family. While he wouldn’t claim to see through people entirely, he could easily decipher those with no guile—they were like blank pages before him.
But from the moment this girl had spoken, not a single one of her words or actions had gone as he predicted.
She seemed like an obscure disciple from a minor sect, a blade of grass stubbornly growing through a crack in the wall, exuding a fragile vitality. Such ignorant, fearless, and unnoticed creatures made one itch to snap their delicate stems.
Xue Qionglou curled his fingers, pressing them tightly against the page before pushing the book toward her, a hint of reluctance in his gesture. "If you don’t return it..."
Bai Li hadn’t expected him to actually agree. Finding a rare glimmer of decency in his otherwise dubious character, she eagerly cut in, "May lightning strike me!"
Xue Qionglou paused. "I meant, you’ll have to pay for it."
"...Oh." Bai Li awkwardly handed him a "nice guy" card. "Daoist Xue is so generous."
And generous he was. Later, whenever money was involved during their travels with the male and female leads, he would open his purse without complaint. His deep friendship with the protagonists began with wealth, deepened through character, and ended with... a sudden stab in the back.
"Master."
"Uncle-Master."
A flash of spiritual light filled the hall as two figures materialized. The disciples, who had been lounging, chatting, or meditating, abruptly rose to their feet, dividing into three distinct factions. They bowed in unison, like wheat stalks bending under a gust of wind—a majestic sight.
The two grandmasters entered, and the room fell into hushed reverence, as solemn as a flag-raising ceremony. Jiang Biehan and Ling Yanyan stood among the crowd, and even the usually cheeky Xia Xuan straightened his expression, not daring to act out of line.
The elderly man with graying hair, draped in an ink-blue crane-feather cloak, was the sect leader of Jade Floating Palace—Ling Yanyan and Xia Xuan’s master. As for the scruffy-bearded middle-aged man in simple attire, carrying two massive swords on his back, he was Master Duanyue of the Giant Blade Sect, Jiang Biehan’s master and adoptive father. The book described him as eccentric but undeniably formidable, arguably the foremost swordsman of his time.
It was said that with one sword stroke, he could topple mountains and reverse rivers; with another, he could split five peaks, shocking the world and birthing a hidden realm—hence his Daoist title, "Duanyue" (Mountain-Splitter).
Jiang Biehan’s sword, named "Longjing" (Great Whale), took inspiration from the line "Firing arrows at sea beasts, the great whale towers majestically." It was forged from a treasure Master Duanyue retrieved from the shattered realm and passed down to his adopted son.
One of his legs bore an old injury, and a careful observer would notice his slight limp. In the story, Jiang Biehan had long sought a cure for his master’s ailment, but to no avail.
The two grandmasters were soon surrounded by disciples, sternly imparting instructions while the others listened with bated breath, heads bowed.
Then, suddenly, they began walking toward Bai Li.
