She’s too cute!
It’s going to be even easier to tease her from now on!
The little fox pounced forward, tightly hugging Sang Dai in his arms, rubbing his chin lightly against her head like an affectionate cub.
Sang Dai, hidden under the brocade quilt, let out a quiet laugh. After being held for a while, she cautiously peeked out from under the blanket, pointing outside. “It’s already noon. Let’s go find Wu Hanshu.”
Su Xuan brushed aside her disheveled hair and gently asked, “Dai Dai, are you rested?”
Sang Dai sat up and nodded. “I’m fully recovered now. Su Xuan, I want to get to the bottom of what happened back then. I need to find my master.”
She sat cross-legged on the bed, lowering her gaze to the little fox still lying there. “You said you saw the Chunying Sword appear in Linglong Town. Where exactly was it?”
Su Xuan opened his eyes and looked at her. “I didn’t see it myself. It was information from demon cultivators I sent to investigate Linglong Town. They heard in the Ghost Market that the sword once carried by Immortal Lord Ying Heng had appeared there. But this news might not be reliable—it could just be a rumor.”
Sang Dai frowned slightly. “No, I don’t think it’s a rumor. My master is now a wanted man across all four realms. Even if someone wanted to use deceit to sell a treasure, they wouldn’t dare use my master’s sword as bait. It’s too dangerous—anyone connected to my master could easily be assassinated by extremists.”
Su Xuan lay on his side, watching her. After a brief hesitation, he finally spoke. “Dai Dai, you need to understand that this might very well be a trap. Immortal Lord Ying Heng had his spiritual root extracted…”
At this, the sword cultivator lowered her gaze, her expression dimming. Su Xuan couldn’t bear to see her like this and softened his tone.
“Immortal Lord Ying Heng had his spiritual root taken. At worst, he would have died. At best, he’s lost all five senses, with his spiritual power completely gone. So you know, Dai Dai… it’s almost impossible for him to be at Linglong Town himself. He’s likely imprisoned somewhere. So why would the Chunying Sword appear here?”
Sang Dai understood. The Chunying Sword was most likely just bait to lure her in. But even if it was a trap, even if it was her weak spot being exploited, after all these years, she finally had some news about Ying Heng. Even if it was a death trap, she had to walk into it.
Su Xuan took her hand. “Dai Dai, I know you’re not afraid of danger. Your cultivation is strong, and I trust you. But I’m also very worried.”
“A calm and composed Sang Dai is invincible. But when it comes to matters involving Immortal Lord Ying Heng, you easily lose your composure.”
Just as Su Xuan would lose his rationality when it came to Sang Dai, and Sang Dai would act the same if Su Xuan were in danger.
Because they cared, they couldn’t remain calm.
He knew how much Sang Dai cared about Ying Heng.
Sang Dai remained sitting cross-legged, her hair slightly messy from just waking up.
In a low voice, she said, “Su Xuan, I know. I won’t act recklessly. I just want to find him.”
Su Xuan sighed softly, his heart melting at the sight of her like this. In the end, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything else.
He sat up, lifted the quilt, got out of bed, and bent down to scoop her up by her knees, placing her in front of the dressing mirror.
“Su Xuan, I can do it myself,” Sang Dai said.
Su Xuan skillfully undid her hair bun, his long lashes slightly lowered as he replied in a calm voice, “Let me do it. You can rest a bit longer.”
There was no way Sang Dai could fall back asleep.
She watched the reflection of the two of them in the mirror. Su Xuan’s expression was serene, his silver hair smooth and soft, half-tied with a hairpin. The little fox always dressed with an air of luxury mixed with casual ease.
Sang Dai could only wait quietly as he styled her hair.
The bun he tied was much more elegant than her own. He adorned it with pearl hairpins and a nine-ringed hairpin, then turned her around and leaned closer to take a look.
【So beautiful.】
Su Xuan met her gaze.
Sang Dai’s face flushed red.
The little fox curled his lips into a faint smile.
【A kiss.】
He leaned in and gave her a light peck on the lips.
【Beautiful Dai Dai.】
The sword cultivator’s face grew even redder, her beauty radiant even without makeup.
Su Xuan patted her hair and held her hand to help her up. “Let’s go. We need to find Tan Huai and Liu Lixue.”
Sang Dai nodded. “Alright.”
The two of them had just opened the door, hand in hand, when they saw a monk and a peacock standing outside.
The monk clasped his hands together. “Amitabha. Miss Sang and the Beast King, did you sleep well?”
The peacock nodded. “Judging by our lord’s glowing face, I’d say he slept very well.”
Su Xuan didn’t want to engage, worried that the bashful sword cultivator would end up blushing again. He tugged her along, intending to walk past them.
But someone blocked their way.
The peacock’s face was still slightly pale but much improved. Being a healer, he knew exactly how to treat himself. Today, he wore a dazzling red robe, the bright hue strikingly vivid.
Liu Lixue squinted slightly. “What happened to your mouth?”
Tan Huai chimed in, “Oh, I know! The Beast King said he was bitten by a wildcat.”
A certain wildcat: “…”
Su Xuan: “……”
Liu Lixue sneered. “I doubt it’s the kind of cat you’re thinking of. What wildcat could bite our lord and live to tell the tale?”
The peacock’s gaze shifted to Sang Dai, whose face was now beet red. The sword cultivator immediately averted her eyes, wishing she could bury her head in the ground. It was as if the words “guilty conscience” were written all over her face.
Tan Huai suddenly understood.
The monk fell silent.
He lowered his head.
Su Xuan shot a glare at Liu Lixue, his tone curt. “If you’ve got nothing better to do, stay at the inn. We have serious business to attend to.”
He tugged Sang Dai along, bypassing Liu Lixue and heading downstairs.
Sang Dai didn’t dare look back and followed him quietly, her head down.
Tan Huai turned and asked, “So, Young Master Liu, are you coming or not?”
Liu Lixue waved dismissively. “I’m not fully healed yet. If there’s a fight, I might drag you down. You go on, I’ll wait here for your return. If anything happens, just call for me.”
Tan Huai nodded. “Alright. If anything happens on your end, feel free to summon us as well.”
Watching Liu Lixue retreat into his room, Tan Huai felt at ease and hurried after the pair who had already gone downstairs.
The monk caught up, walking alongside Su Xuan and Sang Dai. He lowered his voice. “Wu Hanshu is not at the City Lord’s Manor.”
Sang Dai: “…What?”
Tan Huai explained, “I am the Young Master of the Zen Sect, and Linglong Town is under our sect’s jurisdiction. There are many Buddhist cultivators here, and I arranged for some to keep an eye on Wu Hanshu long ago. Just now, I received a message—Wu Hanshu has left the City Lord’s Manor and hurried off somewhere.”
The three of them walked along the street, which wasn’t very crowded. Speaking in hushed tones, only they could hear the conversation.
Sang Dai asked, “Where did he go?”
“…It seems he went to the Ghost Market.”
Both Sang Dai and Su Xuan stopped in their tracks.
Two pairs of eyes turned to Tan Huai, making him feel inexplicably guilty, sensing that something was amiss.
“Is there something wrong?”
Sang Dai asked, “Did you just say the Ghost Market?”
“…Yes.”
Wu Hanshu heading to the Ghost Market, and the Chunying Sword appearing there—Sang Dai didn’t even need to think too hard to connect the two events.
Tan Huai, keenly aware of her shifting mood, glanced at Su Xuan, who wore the same cold expression.
“What’s going on?”
Sang Dai replied, “The Chunying Sword appeared in the Ghost Market.”
At that, Tan Huai immediately grasped the connection.
Su Xuan’s voice turned icy. “We’re going to the Ghost Market.”
—
The Ghost Market was located in the southeastern corner of Linglong Town, in the outskirts of the city. A few miles further south, and one would be outside the city limits.
This place was known as a shady trading hub. Similar markets existed throughout the four realms—wherever there was demand, money facilitated transactions. With enough money, one could solve countless problems or buy almost anything.
A young man in red, his ponytail tied high, moved nimbly through the crowd. His features were strikingly bright, and his aura carried a ghostly air, marking him as an exceptionally wealthy noble.
The Ghost Market was chaotic due to the diversity of its clientele. Most of the items traded here couldn’t be sold openly, making the market highly secretive. Since it fell outside the jurisdiction of the city’s cultivators and laws, disorder reigned supreme.
As they reached a secluded area, a group of figures descended from the sky.
The young man stopped in his tracks and looked up.
There were about seven or eight people, all seemingly demonic cultivators.
He raised an eyebrow, surprised to see demonic cultivators here.
“Young master, do you happen to have any gold or silver? My brothers and I are out of money and want to borrow a little,” said the leader with a grin, though the malice in his eyes and the blade raised in his hand left no room for negotiation.
Bi Fang narrowed his eyes slightly. “Borrow? I don’t lend money.”
“Don’t lend? Then how about giving?”
“That’s even less likely.” Bi Fang curved his lips, his beautiful eyes narrowing. “You all smell too bad—disgusting.”
The demonic cultivators’ expressions immediately darkened. They had assumed this brat, looking like a mere greenhorn, would hand over his money with a little intimidation. Who knew he’d have such a sharp tongue?
“You’re asking for it!” one of the demonic cultivators sneered and swung his blade at him. “Then just die!”
Bi Fang put away the herbs in his hand as the demonic cultivator’s blade neared.
The young man’s half-lidded eyes darkened, but the smirk on his lips remained mocking. His thin lips parted lightly:
“I already told you, the demonic energy on you smells awful.”
The red of his robe was lifted by a wave of heat, fluttering elegantly in the peculiar dark-red flames that ignited around him. Though the flames blazed fiercely behind him, they did not burn his robes. Instead, they spread out instantly from his back.
The demonic cultivators’ eyes widened in terror, but fear came too late. The searing pain of the flames engulfing them arrived first.
They didn’t even have time to cry out before they were reduced to ashes in the blink of an eye.
Bi Fang leaned lazily against the wall, waiting until the flames finished their work. Among the pile of ashes, only a few faintly glowing white bones remained.
He bent down, picked up the bones, and said indifferently, “Earth-grade spiritual roots—low quality, but enough to extend my lady’s life by a few days.”
It was a barely acceptable gain.
He carefully stored the spiritual roots, used his spiritual power to cleanse himself of the demonic energy clinging to his body, and strolled away with a calm smile.
Pushing open the door to a small courtyard, he immediately heard faint coughing from within.
Bi Fang rushed inside to find Shi Yao hunched over a desk, coughing uncontrollably. Blood seeped through her fingers, dripping onto the surface below.
Dark lines crawled up her neck, and the aura of her Four Sufferings grew even more intense.
Bi Fang quickly pressed several acupoints on her body, lifting her into a chair by the desk. He took out the pills he had just purchased at the Ghost Market.
“Lady, this is a Transformation Pill. It will help suppress your Four Sufferings.”
Shi Yao swallowed it with difficulty.
Bi Fang then retrieved the Earth-grade spiritual roots, carefully sliced open Shi Yao’s wrist, and watched as dark-red blood flowed from the wound. Wisps of black smoke rose from the blood, and upon sensing the spiritual roots, the black energy actively clung to them.
Shi Yao leaned back against the chair, her face as pale as snow.
Bi Fang said softly, “Please endure it a little longer, my lady. Bi Fang will soon kill Sang Dai for you. Whether you wish to take her body or her spiritual root, I will assist you.”
Shi Yao lowered her gaze. The black energy clinging to the dark blood from her wound was something she had loathed for years, tormenting her endlessly.
The pale spiritual root was soon tainted black by the dark energy. Bi Fang used his peculiar fire to purify it, then replaced it with another Earth-grade spiritual root to continue drawing out the black energy.
Shi Yao watched for a while before suddenly laughing. “Making deals with devils—is this the price I must pay?”
Bi Fang remained silent, keeping his head respectfully bowed.
“…But all I want is to live. What have I done wrong?”
Bi Fang replied, “The Lady has done no wrong.”
“Truly no wrong?”
“None at all.”
“Bi Fang, will she really come to the Ghost Market?”
“She will come.”
Shi Yao laughed again, taking out a jade token. The token flickered faintly before the other end responded.
“Yao Yao?”
Shi Yao curved her lips into a light smile.
“Mother, I need your help with something.”