[Revised TL] 72 铜钱龛世 | Tong Qian Kan Shi | Copper Coins -- 木苏里 | Musuli -- 英语翻译 | English translation -- Chapter 72

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Chapter 72: Passerby (III)

The Taichang had a strict rule: they only knelt to the heavens. So whenever officials encountered the Guoshi, their greeting did not take the form of a kneel but rather a deep bow.

    

Hundreds of riders jumped off their horses. All dressed in white and wearing silver beast masks, they silently arranged themselves into neat rows and bowed deeply at the same time. The sight was a spectacular one, but it was also threaded with a sense of solemnity and reverence. If the group had been holding sticks of incense, they would look like they were performing a ritual to the heavens.

   

To most people in the world, this would be an intimidating and flattering scene. But this display was small fry to Xue Xian. The reason why he stood there, frozen, was because it was so incredibly unexpected. 

He had never paid much attention to imperial matters in the human realm, since none of it had anything to do with him. He had never bothered to learn about the ever-changing rota of ministers that served the emperor. So when he'd first seen those two characters, Taichang, the word had had no impact on him. Instead, what had given these officials away to Xue Xian was the group’s unique getup: he guessed that they were the emperor’s religious ministers; in other words, fortune-tellers.

Naturally, Xue Xian had been witness to many crowds such as these in his long life. He almost blurted out, The rain priests managed to track me down?

Before Xue Xian could speak, Xuanmin frowned and stepped forward, half-hiding Xue Xian behind him. With that ever-cold expression on his face, Xuanmin scanned the large crowd of newcomers and calmly asked, "How can I help you?" [a]

How can I help you?

How can I help you???

The Taibu and Taizhu, who were at the front of the group and had been about to speak, were shocked still.

Nevertheless, they had grown up in an imperial court, where they were trained to always maintain politeness no matter what unexpected events occurred. The two officials continued to bow deeply, but glanced at each other in shock and confusion.

Did they have the wrong man? Impossible!

That silhouette, that demeanor, even the way he walked –– everything pointed clearly to this man being the Guoshi. They didn't even need to get close to recognise him!

So what did he mean by How can I help you?

Had he done it on purpose? Was there some kind of threat that required him to disguise his identity?

The Taizhu and Taibu had entered the Taichang together as children, and might under secular circumstances have been rumored to be childhood sweethearts [b] –– meaning that, by now, they understood each other intuitively. The two only needed to meet eyes to come to the same conclusion.

But just as they came to that conclusion, there came a gentle hissing sound. The sound came from somewhere near their own hands.

Stunned, the two officials saw that a small flame had somehow appeared by the Taibu's finger. That flame soon disappeared, revealing a small piece of paper within its core.

They were very familiar with this phenomenon: this was how the Guoshi communicated with them.

But the dove that the Taibu had sent had only just flown out. There was no way it could have already reached Famen Si. The only reason they might receive a message now was if the Guoshi happened to be issuing them with new orders, but the timing was far too much of a coincidence...

The Taibu caught the slip of paper in her palm and discreetly glanced at the white shadow standing before her. Before she could even open the letter, there came the batting sound of a bird's wings behind her.

"A letter." The Taizhu turned to look, and reached up to retrieve a letter attached to a dove's leg.

The two officials looked at each other again, then hurried to read the messages.

"The letter is from a Deputy Minister. He reports a rumor from Huazhi County that some folks saw a dragon. The Guoshi gave orders, and now the entire Ministry, including the guards posted outside Tianji Courtyard, are all on their way. We're being told to wait here." The Taizhu made his voice as low as he could, but when he said the word dragon, he was so surprised that his voice couldn't help but raise a little. Panicked, he lowered his voice again and squeezed out the final sentence: "Also, the Deputy Minister says that the Guoshi has left isolation. He has to take care of something first, but in three days he will be joining us."

And as for the Guoshi's personal message, it was as concise as always.

The Taibu shoved the unfolded slip of paper under the Taizhu's eyes. There were only five words: Act as you see fit. And at the bottom, that red stamp that read Tongdeng.

The two letters had arrived one after the other. They were both brief, but the contents were equally difficult to parse. Someone in Huazhi County had seen a dragon, but why did that mean every official from the Taichang Si, including those stationed to Tianji Courtyard, all had to come out immediately? Such a thing had never happened before, and the scale of this action was highly unusual, which would make anyone suspicious.

But the part that bothered the Taibu and Taizhu the most was not that: it was the fact that the Guoshi had finally left isolation, but had other matters to tend to...

The two of them couldn't help but make a connection to the situation in which they currently found themselves. They felt that their previous conclusion had been correct: the Guoshi was pretending not to know who they were because he had other plans that were secret to his underlings. 

Well, then, as his underlings, of course they had to cooperate as best as they could. To break the Guoshi's cover –– did they have a death wish?

"Act as you see fit..." the Taizhu murmured. This was precisely a situation where they had to act as they saw fit! The two officials quickly rearranged their faces and raised their heads. They nodded respectfully at Xue Xian and Xuanmin and said, "It was a misunderstanding. I'm afraid we thought you were someone else."

"Someone else?" Xue Xian laughed as he dusted some nonexistent dirt off of his robe. "Do you think we'd believe that?"

Although the two parties stood quite far apart on the path, Xue Xian had still heard them say the word dragon. If these men in white had honestly and directly explained their true intentions, Xue Xian would not have minded, but now they were saying that it was all a ‘misunderstanding’. Now that was interesting.

What kind of people lied?

People with something to hide.

Normally, Xue Xian could never be bothered to try and guess mortals' complex thoughts. But that was before he fell upon misfortune. Now, whenever he came across people like these –– people with something to hide –– Xue Xian couldn't help but remember the man who had maimed him. As he chuckled, the mirth in his eyes was a cold mirth.

"It is all our fault,” said the Taizhu. “With the curves of the mountain road, we did not look too closely at your faces, but instead went entirely by the colors of your clothes. How funny!" The Taizhu didn’t even dare to glance at Xuanmin anymore. Instead, he only saluted Xue Xian. "Please forgive us. Since the two of you are clearly on your way somewhere, we shall not delay you further. Please––"

He made a gesture at the officials behind him.

In a great wave, the hundreds of people behind him rose from their bowing positions and shuffled until the group parted in half, creating a broad and orderly passageway for Xue Xian and Xuanmin.

Xue Xian scoffed, but he said nothing and began to walk on.

He and Xuanmin did not hesitate to walk through the bisected crowd. Neither of them were afraid of anything, so they did not even feel uneasy as they crossed those dozens of beast masks lined up in rows around them. Xue Xian and Xuanmin maintained calm expressions and took steady, confident steps.

Before Xuanmin could get too close, the Taibu and Taizhu lowered their gazes, just as they were used to when they ran into the Guoshi inside the Taichang Si. They did not dare to let their vision linger. Besides, they seemed to have accidentally thrown a wrench into the Guoshi's vast plan and almost ruined everything –– the situation was now rather awkward, and they definitely did not want to look up at his face.

But in the instant that Xuanmin walked past him, the Taibu's gaze moved slightly, and she caught sight of Xuanmin's right hand. Then, she quickly looked away again.

Apart from at the beginning, when they'd briefly faltered upon first meeting Xuanmin, the Taibu and Taizhu's behavior for the rest of the encounter had been perfectly appropriate and subtle –– they'd been polite, yet not overly deferential. At the same time, they could not help but keep an eye on Xue Xian, as though fearing that this intimidating-looking figure might discover some weakness within them.

That had been their mistake: normally, furtive glances at someone might not alert them, but Xue Xian's eyesight was far more sensitive than that of a human. He immediately noticed the two peering at him. In his view, they had basically written, We have something to hide! on a board to parade down the street. 

Xue Xian felt that something was amiss, but before any real idea could fully materialise in his mind, the black bird on Xuanmin's shoulder broke off his train of thought.

That bird really was fearless: it seemed not to be perturbed by this massive group of ‘mourning’ people at all. Instead, when Xue Xian happened to bump into it, it actually shook out a wing and slapped Xue Xian's shoulder.

Vermin! [c]

As Xue Xian stared daggers at the bird, he saw Xuanmin silently stick a talisman onto it.

This was probably some kind of freezing talisman. As soon as the bird was hit by it, it became stiff as a board. It stopped moving entirely, though its two beady eyes glared resentfully at Xuanmin.

For a moment, Xue Xian felt good about himself. He was so self-satisfied that he forgot to try and figure out what those carriage train people had to hide.

Meanwhile, the Taibu and Taizhu watched as the two men and one bird walked through the crowd of officials and headed toward a fork in the road ahead.

"Hu––" The Taizhu let go of the breath he'd been holding. He had a new idea to make sure they wouldn’t sabotage the Guoshi’s plans. After bidding farewell to the two, they now had to pretend to continue ahead, but then somehow find a way to make a U-turn. They could return and surreptitiously follow the Guoshi from a safe distance, ready to provide backup in case of an emergency.

But before he'd even fully let go of that breath, the Taizhu watched as the tall and skinny man dressed in black who had been at the Guoshi's side suddenly turned back and flashed them a smile.

It was an extremely handsome smile –– and an extremely evil smile, with a chilling coldness to the crook of the lips that startled the Taibu and Taizhu.

Next, the sky directly above the Taichang officials suddenly changed. An oncoming cluster of black storm clouds rumbled forth out of nowhere and instantly blocked out the dim morning light. Next, dozens of bolts of white lightning came down from the clouds and crashed into the ground, right next to their feet, with a series of earth-shattering booms.

Each bolt of lightning seemed to have a specific target. They all came down dangerously close to the officials’ feet, and struck a circle around the entire group, trapping them in a cage made of live lightning.

In all the years that the Taizhu and Taibu had been alive, they had never before been in such utter and complete defeat. All the men and horses in their carriage train were thrown into chaos. The angles of these bolts of lightning seemed to be carefully calculated. The bolts were careful not to actually hit anyone, yet struck close enough to make them jump and to make the men run in all directions to avoid it. Their only option was to cower away from the lightning. 

There seemed to be no end in sight to this storm. The officials’ powers were limited, and they knew it would be no easy task to break out of this cage.

So the Taizhu decided to peer past the lightning and the commotion to try and see where the two men had gone. But when he did, he found that they had long vanished without a trace –– and, because of all the distractions, he had not even been able to see which of the two roads they'd taken.

As the Taizhu began to seriously panic, the Taibu gripped his sleeve and calmly said, "It's fine. We'll find them."

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The author has something to say: 

My period seriously lowered my intellect, so the word count is lower today. 

Tomorrow, this act will end. Then we will be getting into the mystery-solving act! Will there be a ton of explanation? Yes. Will everything go to shit? Yes. Will there be developments on the emotional side? Yes. And after that we won’t be far from the ending, hahahahaha.

I will work hard to wrap everything up nicely, kiss =3=

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[a] Musuli uses 有何贵干 (you3 he2 gui4 gan4), a highly formal phrase that means “What noble errands brings you here?” aka “What do you need?”

[b] Musuli uses the chengyu 青梅竹马 (qing1 mei2 zhu2 ma3). This is used to describe a couple who grew up together; they knew each other in childhood and played together, then grew up to marry. The phrase’s literal meaning is “green plums, bamboo horse” and comes from Li Bai’s poem, 长干行. A recent translation is here with a blog post about the process here.

[c] Musuli uses 小畜牲 (xiao3 chu4 sheng) here which means “little beast” and is an insult.

This chapter was beta’d by Rogue! 

[Revised TL] 71 铜钱龛世 | Tong Qian Kan Shi | Copper Coins -- 木苏里 | Musuli -- 英语翻译 | English translation -- Chapter 71

The JJWXC raws are here. Please support Musuli if you can! The novel is very cheap to buy; this guide tells you how to use JJWXC.

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Chapter 71: Passerby (II)

Although the letter had been composed in a great hurry, its contents were not to be taken lightly. The Taibu had considered her words carefully: not once in the letter did she mention the ‘person highly similar to the Guoshi’, as, to a certain extent, it was rather disrespectful to do so.

    

No one in the entire Taichang Si dared to be so informal toward the Guoshi. To their knowledge, the Guoshi had always been highly reserved. Whenever he appeared, he carried an intimidating and unapproachable aura.

 

Although the Taibu and Taizhu had been brought into the Taichang as children, even after all these years, the Guoshi remained a distant and holy figure who could not be touched, let alone disobeyed.

    

"Your letter..." the Taizhu said carefully as they got ready to leave.

The Taibu did not need to hear his full sentence to know what he wanted to say. "I'm not that stupid," she said. "I only said that the man we were looking for has died. If all goes well with the dove, it should arrive at Famen Si by tomorrow evening. Even if the weather turns bad, it will definitely be there by the day after tomorrow. Once the Guoshi reads the letter, he will know what to do, and we will simply obey. Until then, let us take care of the matter at hand."

    

Their powers were limited, so they'd had to use a dove to send their letter. But the Guoshi was different –– if he had a message to send, he would simply burn it with a flame and they would immediately receive it on the other end, with no delay at all.

So if they wanted to check if the Guoshi was still located at Famen Si, the longest they had to wait was two days.

    

"To be fair, once we enter the village and meet that person, something is bound to happen," the Taizhu said in a low voice. "After all, not any ordinary riffraff can pretend to be the Guoshi."

    

Although the Guoshi had never named them his official disciples, they were in all but name by this point. They had been educated at Taichang Si, and ordinarily lived and ate there too –– but the Guoshi did not like being around others, and was often shut away in Tianji Courtyard [a]. Yet, out of everyone, the Taibu and Taizhu were still the people who saw the Guoshi the most. In the time from their arrival as children to achieving their high positions now, they’d had plenty of opportunity to understand the Guoshi’s habits and idiosyncrasies.

If they could say so themselves, they knew him so well that, even if the Guoshi were to put on his mask and stood in a crowd of a million people dressed in the same manner, they would still be able to pick him out immediately. 

    

Writing that letter was really just a formality –– a way to ease their minds.

The two looked at each other again and decided not to delay further. They kicked their stirrups and the long train trotted toward that small village on the south side of Boji Mountain…

*****

Deep inside the village, a small one-bedroom hut stood beneath the shade of an old loquat tree. On either side of the hut's door were hung strings of dried garlic and peppers, woven into a decorative design around the ropes that bound them.

    

The ropes also seemed special –– they did not appear to have been randomly chosen to dry the goods. As Xue Xian and Xuanmin approached the hut, they could detect a smoky stench coming from the ropes.

    

This was the home of the Qu-shu that the soldier had mentioned.

Xue Xian walked to the door, but did not immediately knock. Instead, he scrunched up his nose and sniffed at the ropes, frowning. Then he covered his nose with his sleeve and said, "Blood. From many years ago."

    

Xuanmin had always been repulsed by such things, so he reached out and yanked Xue Xian back, as though if Xue Xian stood by the strings any longer, that smell would seep into him too.

The two were still invisible, and ordinary people could neither see nor hear them. In the instant that Xuanmin pulled Xue Xian away from the door, a man wearing a thick winter coat and holding the hand of a small child walked by Qu-shu's door.

    

That child tried to take a look at the hut, but the man forcibly dragged them away, as though the hut were covered in some pestilent disease. [b]

"How many times have I told you? Don't get too close," the man scolded the child.

The child said, "Oh," and obediently turned their neck back around. They followed the man away, though their eyes continued to dart back at the hut.

    

At the same moment, another pair –– a woman and her son –– happened to be walking back into the village after having been to see the commotion at the village gate. As the woman passed the man and his child, she nodded in greeting and, similarly, dragged her son farther away from the hut...

    

"People in this village seem not to really like this Qu guy," Xue Xian muttered.

He had intended to wait for the people to pass before going up to knock on the door, but in that instant, the rickety old door creaked open by itself.

    

A man with a shrunken mouth stuck his head out from the door and looked around vacantly. His eyes fell on the spot where Xue Xian and Xuanmin stood. Although this man’s eyes were murky and his pupils appeared rather unfocused, Xue Xian still got the feeling that he was looking directly at them, or could at least sense their presence.

    

"Who is it? Why are you standing by the door? If you don't come in, I'm going to close the door," the man lisped.

He seemed to be slightly deaf himself, so his words rang out loudly, enough for the other villagers to hear.

    

"Let's go, let's go. Lao-Qu is about to have another episode," the man said in a low voice as he herded his child away –– quickly followed by the mother and her son.

In the blink of an eye, the street in front of the hut became empty.

"Tsk––" Lao-Qu was clearly a rather grumpy man. He held the door open, but seeing that no one was coming in, he muttered angrily and made to close the door.

    

Just before the door slammed shut, Xue Xian reached out his hand and blocked it.

"Would it be possible to take temporary shelter in your home, please?" he asked.

    

Lao-Qu was shocked. "Are you a human or a ghost?"

But before Xue Xian could respond, Lao-Qu suddenly yelled, "Of course you're not a ghost. My spirit-repelling strings are right there. Ghosts wouldn't dare come near me... Who are you? What are you doing here?"

    

"We have some questions," Xue Xian replied.

Still gripping the door, Lao-Qu did not let them in. "What about?"

    

"We heard that you come from Xia Mountain, Langzhou." Xue Xian didn't really care whether the old man was going to let them in or not. Actually, the hut was rather small, and he and Xuanmin would have to bend their heads to enter anyway. If they could get all the information they needed standing outside, then it would save them the trouble and back pain.

    

Lao-Qu nodded and said, "Yes, and?"

"Earlier, as we were accompanying a xiao-xiongdi [c] to his home, he mentioned something. As a child, he'd heard you say that the Xia Mountain, Langzhou area produced a miracle pill?"

Puzzled, Lao-Qu listened to Xue Xian speak, then stroked his chin. Finally, he stepped away from the door. "Let's talk inside," he said. "I have bad legs and get tired from standing up too long."

    

Lao-Qu seemed to have lived alone in the hut for many years. The room had not been tidied for who knew how long, nor had the windows ever been opened to let in fresh air, so that it was filled with a sour smell. Just the sour smell would have been tolerable, but on top of that the hut also reeked of garlic.

As Lao-Qu pushed the door open, the stench attacked Xue Xian's nose.

Xue Xian: “...” Actually, could we just stay standing out here...

    

He grimaced and held his breath as he bent to enter the doorway. Xuanmin tried to linger outside, but Xue Xian grasped him and dragged him in too.

Taking advantage of a brief moment during which Lao-Qu had his back turned to them in order to sit down, Xue Xian yanked Xuanmin's pristine robe, brought it to his nose, and took a deep breath from it. Now he felt a little better.

Xuanmin: “...”

    

Lao-Qu was not a good host. He did not invite the two to sit down, and in fact, there was no other place to sit in the hut.

"What miracle pill are you after?" he asked as he settled into his cloth-covered chair and squinted suspiciously at them. "There are many rare herbs in the Langzhou area, and some miracle pills aren't even considered that miraculous."

"A pill that can extend one's life, or exchange the fortunes of two lives?" Xue Xian asked tentatively.

Lao-Qu eyed them for a long time, then finally said, "Such pills are rumored to exist. But there is more than just one type. They say that there are two types, which are extremely similar, but with vastly different effects. One extends life, and the other harms life. They even say there is a type of pill that can link together three lives from one reincarnation cycle, one after the other... I don't know what that is, and I've never seen it. All I've heard are stories," he rambled.

    

"Do you know where that pill comes from?" Xue Xian asked.

Lao-Qu did not disappoint –– he actually did roughly give them a location. "Baichong Cave!" [d]

Xue Xian understood. "Good. Do locals know where Baichong Cave is located? If so, we will wait until we've arrived in Langzhou to ask."

"Oh no!" Lao-Qu exclaimed, waving his hands. "If you do ask, I don't think anyone will be able to tell you."

Xue Xian frowned. "Why not?"

    

"You have no idea how poisonous those insects are. Just hearing that name, Baichong Cave, should scare the life out of you. Besides, who would give so much thought to a bunch of unsubstantiated rumors?" Lao-Qu said. "The only reason I know about it is because my ancestor was a witch doctor [e] who loved to mess about with such things. To be honest, the two of you have come to just the right person. I’m the only person who can tell you how to get there."

    

He began to outline something on his palm with his index finger. "Once you get to Xia Mountain, you go here and go to the southwest side of the mountain. There are three peaks there, and one of them has a curved cliff. Baichong Cave is near there, but I'm not sure how to get there. Perhaps you have to jump off the cliff. If you have some life left in your destiny, perhaps you should try."

    

Life... that's the one thing they didn't lack.

Xue Xian scoffed. That's not hard, he thought. If it comes down to it, we'll search every corner of that cliff. It's no big deal for people like me and Xuanmin.

    

Indeed, when they'd been talking about miracle pills, Xue Xian had still been skeptical. But now, they were talking about a ‘Baichong Cave’, which seemed to be the right track: the thing on Xuanmin's neck was called a Tongshou Spider, after all, which was definitely related to insects.

    

Obviously, it was ridiculous to think that a simple insect could help to extend or exchange one's life. But if an insect secreted some kind of venom, and that venom was combined with a talisman or some other more evil technique to help it along, perhaps it really could have some effect. But this kind of thing probably only benefited one of the parties, causing great harm for the other.

    

Having gotten the information they needed, the two did not linger. Before he left the hut, Xue Xian scanned that rotting mess of a room and surreptitiously dropped a few golden pearls in a pouch that hung near the door –– consider it payment for the information.

    

Lao-Qu was eccentric, but not inherently unlikeable or troublesome. He did not try to ask Xue Xian what they were going to do now. He didn’t even get up to walk them to the door. But as Xue Xian pulled the wooden door open and got ready to step outside, that old man murmured something as though in a dream: "But I have to say... Even if you do find that thing, it's best not to use it. One of my ancestors was a romantic. They say that he wanted to extend his life, or perhaps bring someone back from the dead, I don't remember, but in the end the results were devastating. Far worse than death. I don't know what he was trying to do..."

    

Then he chuckled self-deprecatingly and added, "But I say that to everyone, and no one believes me. They all say I'm crazy. Now that you've heard me say it, you may leave. Go... I'm going to take a nap." 

    

"I have better things to do than that. I’m not that idle,” Xue Xian muttered absent-mindedly. “Besides, extend my life even further? That would be overkill." He saluted Lao-Qu, then herded Xuanmin out the door.

    

There was no need to stay any longer in the village, so the two of them immediately took a route that led them back out to the village gate. As they came upon that pond again, Xue Xian couldn't help but glance at that mud hut, and saw the soldier's spirit dutifully standing guard by the door, seemingly planning to stay there forevermore.

    

In truth, Xue Xian could not really relate to such strong, passionate emotions, whether those of Lao-Qu's ‘romantic’ ancestor, or that weeping soldier. Xue Xian found himself unable to empathise with the feelings that their actions so clearly demonstrated.

He had met one other military man before, perhaps six or seven years ago now.

    

It happened in a great desert in the far north of the land. By order of the universe, [f] Xue Xian had gone there to bring about a bit of rain. When he arrived, he looked past the strong winds that he’d summoned to send spirals of sand into the air, and saw that the ground was littered with countless skeletons. Destroyed military carriages and ragged war flags, as well as tattered, empty uniforms, were strewn across the desert.

A soldier was sitting by one of the ruined carriages, with one of his legs bent and propped up against the carriage wheel. With his head tilted, he had been gazing at one of the torn flags.

Xue Xian only needed a glimpse to know that this was a lost soul who had already been there for at least half a year. The others had departed long ago, leaving only him –– clearly something was keeping this one here. Xue Xian was lazy, and did not care enough to consider even approaching the man. He had planned to simply send down a storm and then leave, but at that moment, the lost soul actually called out to him.

    

Perhaps because he'd been there for too long, the soul's mind was rather dazed. He seemed not to realise who Xue Xian was, and merely tugged at Xue Xian’s sleeve while rambling on and on. Like the soldier whose soul had lingered on the dog tag that Xue Xian would meet years in the future, this soldier spoke in bits and pieces, and was difficult to understand.

    

Xue Xian always acted entirely based on his mood, and on that day, the sight of all those corpses made him a bit sad. So he tolerated the soul's mutterings and listened to him speak for a long time. Overall, the man really said two things: If only we'd won this battle... and, I don't dare to depart.

    

"You're not even afraid of death. Why would you be afraid to depart?" Xue Xian asked.

That lost soul began to explain at length, and it took a while for Xue Xian to understand: the man was afraid that, if he departed, he would be reincarnated, but his wife would remain stuck in this life. He was afraid that he'd never see her again.

    

"You can't see her if you remain here, either," Xue Xian replied. "You're bound to this land. You can't go home."

    

The lost soul gave him a tragic look, and then went on: if only he could remember her in his next life, then he'd be able to go find her, and that would make things better. If he was lucky, then perhaps they could meet as children, and he could watch her slowly grow up from a little girl to a young woman, and then he could marry her. They didn't have to experience all that drama like couples did in plays –– he only wanted to lead a long and ordinary life alongside her. Ideally... there would be no war...

    

As Xue Xian listened to the man's pathetic rambling and looked out at that field corpses, he was surprised to find that he was not annoyed. 

Before he left, he gave the lost soul a long piece of rope.

    

"Why have you given me a rope? I'm already dead. I can't hang myself," the soul asked idiotically.

Xue Xian snapped, "Tie that around your wrist and make a mark. Don't you want to carry a connection into your next life? Although there's no way for you to remember all of these random details, at least a clear mark can act as a reminder. Perhaps if you try hard enough, you really will be able to find her."

    

The soul had lingered for so long purely for this reason, so now that his problem was solved, he did not delay. After Xue Xian left, he, too, departed.

    

And today, when Xue Xian caught sight of that soldier from the dog tag, he thought back to the man in the desert. Although six or seven years had passed since their encounter, Xue Xian still could not understand how anyone could love another so deeply that they could refuse to move on even after death.

    

Although, as his mind drifted through these casual thoughts, he unconsciously glanced back at Xuanmin.

    

Noticing Xue Xian's gaze, Xuanmin, walking slightly ahead, paused in his steps. "What is it?" Xuanmin asked.

As Xue Xian's mind returned to the present, he discovered that he had been staring at Xuanmin's back. "Oh," he muttered as he looked away. "Nothing. I thought of a passerby."

    

"Passerby?" Xuanmin's eyes flitted toward the pond, then back toward Xue Xian.

But Xue Xian was already staring at the road ahead. "Let's get out of –– Someone's there!"

    

Having just left the village, they had removed their invisibility spell. They planned to entirely leave the mountain path soon, so there was no need. But in the middle of Xue Xian's sentence, he noticed a long carriage train on the path ahead. It was a winding streak of white. 

    

"What kind of family has such a long funeral train?" Xue Xian muttered. But then he saw the flags attached to the carriages, and the two characters on the flags: Taichang.

    

Xue Xian and Xuanmin stopped in their tracks. Before they could even see the faces of the newcomers, Xue Xian heard the clear and bright voice of a woman say, "Descend from your horses."

    

Next, around a hundred people shuffled off their horses and bowed in a deeply polite greeting in Xue Xian and Xuanmin’s direction.

Xue Xian: “...” What the fuck? [g]

---

[a] 天机院 (tian1 ji1 yuan4): 天机 means “arcane mystery” and 院 means “courtyard”. In this story, it is the name of a section of Taichang Si that is reserved for the Guoshi only. 

[b] Musuli uses 鸡瘟 (ji1 wen1), chicken pest, here.

[c] Quick reminder that this means “young brother” and is a polite way to refer to someone younger than you whose name you don’t know. 

[d] 百虫洞 (bai3 chong2 dong4) is literally “cave of 100 insects”. 

[e] 巫医 (wu1 yi1) literally means “witch doctor”.

[f] Musuli uses 天时 (tian1 shi2) here, which literally means “sky time” or “heaven time”. This can mean “weather”, “destiny”, “the right time”, “the course of time”, etc. In this context, Xue Xian’s normal role/purpose as a dragon is to bring thunder and rain to parts of the land that require it; he is essentially a god of rain, so 天时 would be when the ‘time is right’ for him to go to a certain place and call for a storm there. 

[g] The exact phrasing of this is, “What opera are they performing/am I in right now?” 

This chapter was beta’d by Rogue!

[Revised TL] 70 铜钱龛世 | Tong Qian Kan Shi | Copper Coins -- 木苏里 | Musuli -- 英语翻译 | English translation -- Chapter 70

The JJWXC raws are here. Please support Musuli if you can! The novel is very cheap to buy; this guide tells you how to use JJWXC.

---

Chapter 70: Passerby (I)

The village was still in chaos, the clamor of voices resembling the relentless buzzing of a hornet's nest. Some higher-pitched voices rose up from the mass––    

"Ghost bird! The ghost bird's here––"

"How could the ghost bird be here? Who brought this evil omen onto us?"

"Oh no, oh no, someone's going to die, aaaahhhh––"

"Perhaps there won't be a death, but something bad is surely about to happen!"

    

The so-called ghost bird was not some new, mysterious creature, but none other than Xuanmin's black crow who was undoubtedly a Boji Mountain local. Perhaps because it had long lived in the foggy forest, and its cry was rather unique, the commoners living on the mountain had mythologised it as a yao mo.

As though the black bird were a comet that brought ill luck. If it hovered too long above the village, it would bring misfortune to everyone below.

    

"Ai––" that gloomy sigh rose up again, making Xue Xian grimace. Although the noise may have been terrifying to the locals, it had a different effect on Xue Xian –– after all, when Xuanmin had been pleasuring him earlier, that sigh had pierced through the fog and accompanied each and every one of his own breaths. 

So it was highly awkward now.

As soon as he heard the noise, Xue Xian felt pain in his head, a sourness in his cheeks, and an itch in his hands. He wanted to hit the bird. He wanted to eat human meat.

    

That black bird really was spiritual. It circled the village a few times, then –– who knew where its strange magic came from –– actually came flying straight toward Xuanmin.

    

Thankfully the three had not yet entered the village, or else they would have caused complete chaos.

The bird really didn't know how to be subtle. It circled round and round, then settled gently on Xuanmin's shoulder and gave a soft caw, almost coquettish.

    

Great. Some villagers had seen this and were looking over in terror. They began to scream––

"Ghost bird! Look, it's the ghost bird, and it's hovering in midair!"

"Yes, yes, as though it's perching on something. But there's nothing there. How could it be perched there?"

    

They had originally used the invisibility spell to avoid attention, but now the stupid bird had arrived and they had become some kind of parade. Everyone in the village was staring at them, on high alert –– if not for the villagers’ fear of the "ghost bird" rumors, they would long have charged toward the group with brooms and rakes.

And the stupid bird wasn't even stopping. It seemed not to be afraid of humans at all. It tilted its head and looked back, bemused, at the villagers. Just as they began to tremble with fear, it decided to let out another sigh: "Ai––"

A long, drawn-out sigh with a slight tremor to it... Now the bird really was doing it on purpose.

    

Xue Xian was far too sensitive to that sound. He immediately turned and urged the bird's owner to give it a silencing talisman.

The bird: “...”

    

It seemed to fundamentally hate Xue Xian in particular. As the bird stared at a certain dragon with its round, beady eyes, all of its feathers stood on end and it reached its neck over to peck him with its beak.

Xue Xian was happy to engage. He pinched out two fingers and grabbed hold of the bird's beak, yanking it close to his face. Glaring into its eyes, he growled, "Whenever I'm bored, the thing that brings me the most joy is to find a bird somewhere and roast it in a pit. Here, in the middle of nowhere, I'm not that picky. I don't mind if the meat is raw or cooked. All I have to do is pluck the feathers, and then I'm ready to have my meal."

The bird: “...”

    

Under the threat of death, the bird was now frozen stiff. Then –– slowly, carefully –– it slid its beak out of Xue Xian's grasp and looked back, eyes brimming with tears, at Xuanmin.

Seeing that the damn bird even knew how to be a snitch, Xue Xian glared at Xuanmin too.

Xuanmin: “...”

A real live dragon, so petty as to bicker with a bird –– now that was a talent too. Clearly, ‘Xue Xian’ had been named well. [a]

Xuanmin had probably never expected to one day find himself in such a situation. He seemed out of ideas.

    

Of course, Xue Xian wasn't actually locked in a mortal battle with the bird. He wanted to use this opportunity to cast away the slightly strange atmosphere between him and Xuanmin and try to lead them back to normal. Especially as, the whole way here from the mountain hollow, Xuanmin had not said a word –– he'd been even quieter than usual, somehow.

    

Xue Xian had not been looking for long when Xuanmin glanced back at him. Xuanmin looked him up and down, then raised a hand to cover Xue Xian’s eyes.  

    

Xuanmin's hand was not soft –– his thin knuckles pressed against Xue Xian's brow and nose. And it seemed like the cleaning talisman was the best trick in Xuanmin’s sleeve, because his hand was pristine. All the sweat he’d shed back at the bamboo building from the effects of the dragon spit had vanished, and his skin even smelled a little like the wilderness around them: pleasant and mild. 

Xue Xian found that he had gone ahead and erected his own tombstone. He'd wanted to set their relationship back to normal, but now that Xuanmin had covered his eyes for some reason, things had become even weirder...

It was true that, as a paper man, Xue Xian had often had his face or eyes blocked by Xuanmin –– Xuanmin’s intent had been ‘out of sight, out of mind.’ But now that Xue Xian was in human form, the implications changed. 

    

At that same moment something else happened too. Xue Xian didn't know what Xuanmin did to the bird –– he neither cajoled it nor scolded it, and in fact did not speak at all –– but Xue Xian suddenly heard the crow flap its wings and then calm down.

He faithfully stood there in the darkness cast by Xuanmin's hand, not moving except to blink once, his eyelashes gently batting against Xuanmin's palm and fingers.

    

Xuanmin's fingers twitched, and he lifted his hand away.

He did not look at Xue Xian, as though he really were ‘out of sight, out of mind.’ Lightly, Xuanmin said, "Alright, let's go."

    

That black bird really had become obedient again. It stood perched silently on Xuanmin's shoulder, every once in a while stealing an embarrassed glance at Xue Xian and then furtively looking away again, as though it was suddenly aware of the situation. Xuanmin seemed to have done something else to the bird as well, for as they walked with the bird into the village, the terrified gazes of the villagers did not follow.

"Where's the ghost bird? How could it have disappeared?"

"Yes, it was just here..."

As they left the villagers' murmurs behind, Xue Xian realised that the commotion caused by the stupid bird had had its benefits: now, the village itself was much quieter, with not a single person on the street.

    

They followed the route pointed out to them by the soldier. They reached the pond and strode onto a simple narrow bridge across it.

But only a few steps in, they heard someone's voice beneath the bridge.

Without stopping, Xue Xian glanced down and saw two early-rising women squatting on a stone platform at the edge of the pond, laundering clothes and chattering away amidst the light splashing of the water.

    

"Ai–– what a shame. Last night, Lao-Li-shu [b] who lives on the west side of the village passed away," sighed one of the women, who wore a date-colored winter coat. "They say that he took a rope and hung himself by the bed. As he died, his hand clutched a red, embroidered robe."

"Lao-Li? Didn't he lose his marbles five or six years ago? How did he even know how to hang himself?"

    

The woman in the date-colored coat shook her head. "You know how Li-dashen [c] passed from illness a few years ago? Er Li-zi [d] and the others feared that their father would not be able to get over her death, so they took advantage of the fact that he'd gone senile to tell him that Li-dashen had only gone into the xian cheng to see a doctor. Remember?"

"I remember hearing about it. They said that, each day, Lao-Li-shui would forget everything from the previous day, so would constantly ask Er Li-zi, 'Where's your mother?'"

    

“Yes, but apparently he recently became lucid again and realised that his sons were lying to him, and that dashen had long died," the woman in the date-colored coat sighed. "Before, when Lao-Li-shu had been dumb, he could still survive on a day-to-day basis. But after he woke up, he lost the will to live. Er Li-zi took his eyes off his father for one second, and Lao-Li-shu had taken the easy way out.”

"Ai... Some things are better left unknown..."

    

By the time the two women had finished speaking, Xue Xian and Xuanmin had already finished crossing the bridge. The soldier, however, seemed to falter, staring into space while standing in the middle of the bridge, before scurrying after Xue Xian again.

    

"We're here..." The soldier's tone seemed hesitant. He pointed at a small mud hut by the road: from the outside, the house seemed to have three rooms, with two side by side and a third squeezed behind them; probably two bedrooms and a kitchen.

    

As the soldier spoke, the house happened to stir and one of the bedroom doors was pushed open. A woman with her hair tied in a bun walked out. She held a colorful decorative knot in her hands. A dried tortoise shell was attached to the knot. 

    

She fiddled with the knot, then hung it onto a nail by the doorway. As she caressed the tortoise shell, she looked out behind her.

For a moment, Xue Xian thought that she had seen them. But her gaze only skidded across them lightly: [e] in reality, her gaze lingered at a spot behind them, in the direction of the village gate. Then she looked away, arranged her bun, and returned inside.

    

"Let's go over there," Xue Xian said.

But he heard no response. Xue Xian turned around and saw that the soldier's face was wet –– he had begun to cry. 

As though sleepwalking, the soldier slowly followed Xue Xian to the door, but made no attempt to enter the kitchen. Instead, he stared numbly at that decorative knot. He seemed to want to touch the tortoise shell, but with no arms, all he could do was look. He gazed at the knot for some time, then turned and looked into the window at the woman inside.

    

"What tradition is that knot about?" Xue Xian asked.

The soldier paused as he swallowed down his sobs and said, "We use the shells of tortoises, to signify the notion of 'return'. [f] In this area, we have a folk custom where if someone has departed and not yet returned, their family hangs a knot like this outside their door."

Every month, the knot was replaced with a new one –– from spring and summer to autumn and winter, until their loved one returned.

 

"I..." The soldier looked back longingly at the woman, who stood in the kitchen surrounded by steam and smoke from the stove. He fell silent again, then said, "I've changed my mind... Don't let her see the dog tag."

He seemed not to have seen her for many years –– he could not tear his eyes away. It was only after a long time that he forced himself to look back at Xue Xian and Xuanmin. "Could I please ask you to bury the dog tag in front of the house?"

   

Xue Xian looked at his desolate face and nodded. "Okay," he said. "As long as you're sure. Once we bury it, we'll leave, and we won't be back. If you change your mind again... No one will be able to help you."

"Mn... I'll stay here and watch over her and my parents," the soldier said in a low voice. "As long as they don't see the dog tag, they'll maintain some hope..."

He had fought countless battles, had wielded weapon after weapon, and had expended blood and sweat. But he had probably not cried very much. As he sobbed, he appeared to be aggressively pushing his sadness back down so as not to make too much noise.

    

The soldier stood there for some time, then suddenly said to Xuanmin, "I-I heard that there was a pill [g] you could take where you could decide your rebirth. If I found one now and took it, would it still work?"

    

Xuanmin paused. Before he could respond, Xue Xian scoffed and shook his head. "Why do you people always want to put your next life, and even the life after that, in dependence on this one? I've met many people like you. The last man who asked me that question was also a soldier. He recited prayers all night long, asking me whether I had this type of medicine. But any item that claims to have control over life and death is evil stuff. They always come with a price, and that price is too high for humans to pay. As if anything that good would come cheap!"

    

But the soldier replied seriously. "Not necessarily,” he said. “When I was growing up in this village, I heard Qu-shu say that there was a miracle pill [h] from his hometown where if you take it, you can decide where to go for your next life. You can even take on the burden of someone else's fated misfortune..."

Seeing that Xue Xian looked annoyed, he quickly added, "Qu-shu comes from Langzhou... They have all sorts of strange and wonderful things there. Perhaps it really––"

    

"Stop thinking about it. It's of no use to you," Xue Xian said. He hated being vague for the sake of politeness, so he didn’t mince his words. 

The soldier immediately sighed. His body language deflated and he hung his head, as though the last of his energy had evaporated. "I understand. I was just... thinking about it."

    

But... hold on.

Xue Xian suddenly frowned and clicked his tongue. "Something in what you just said sounded familiar. Where did you say the old man was from?"

    

The soldier's voice was still hazy and weak, so that some of the words he uttered were hard to make out. It had taken time for Xue Xian to register what he'd said, and he needed to confirm it again.

"Qu-shu?" the soldier said, stunned, then repeated, "Langzhou. More specifically, I think he comes from the Xia Mountain area or some other such mountain."

    

Xia Mountain, Langzhou.

A miracle pill that allows you to take on the burden of someone else's misfortune...

    

Those two things had to be related –– it could not be a coincidence. Xue Xian glanced over at Xuanmin and found himself immediately making eye contact again. He quickly averted his eyes even as he said to Xuanmin, "Shall we go find that man?"

If they could pin down a more specific location, or find out more about this so-called ‘miracle pill’, perhaps they might be able to find a cure to Xuanmin's Tongshou Spider bite sooner.

    

The two did not delay further. They did as the soldier had requested and silently buried the dog tag in the earth in front of the mud hut. Then, following the direction in which the soldier had pointed, they went in search of that ‘Qu-shu’. 

    

Accompanied by Xuanmin's black bird, Xue Xian and Xuanmin headed toward Qu-shu's house. At the same time, on a mountain road not far from the village, the riders who made up a long carriage train were taking a break from their journey to look out at the view.

These were none other than the group from the Taichang Si, who had gone into Boji Mountain and then come back out.

    

The leaders of the train were still a young man and a young woman: the Taizhu and Taibu.

The Taizhu lightly scratched his mask and looked over at the young woman as she performed another divination. Irritated, he said, "What is it? Is he using some technique to hide himself? Or has he changed location overnight?"

    

They could only perform one divination per day. To hunt down the person they were looking for, they had to do a new divination, or else their information would remain a day old. 

It had taken the carriage train going all the way to a second mountain to realise that something had been amiss back here. They’d had to take several turns to come back to Boji Mountain. 

    

This time, the Taibu said nothing for so long that the Taizhu worried something dramatic had happened again.

"That person is indeed at Boji Mountain. There's no way it could be wrong this time. There is nothing to pollute the divination. But..." The Taibu paused, then added, "But he's dead."

"Dead?" the Taizhu repeated, astonished.

"But the most confusing part isn't that."

"There's something else?"

"Remember how I said I thought I saw the Guoshi?" the Taibu asked.

"Of course. But that was just a coincidence," the Taizhu replied.

    

"I don't think so,” the Taibu said. “In this divination, he also came to the Boji Mountain hollow... and only left recently."

One coincidence was just a coincidence, but two? That was very difficult to explain away.

A sudden thought crossed the Taizhu's mind. "Could it... really be the Guoshi? Where is that person now?"

The Taibu raised a finger and pointed into the village nested under the morning sun at the south side of the mountain. "That village right there."

    

The two officials turned to each other, their piercing gazes meeting through their masks. Then, the Taibu took out a brush from her horse's bags, dipped it in ink, and began to hurriedly compose a letter.

Meanwhile, clearly following a silent procedure, the Taizhu whistled into his fingers and summoned a dove. [i]

    

The letter was addressed to the Guoshi, and was signed by the Taibu. She gave it to the dove to bring to Famen Si.

"Now that the letter's been sent, we should head into the village and check it out,” said the Taizhu. “After all... this concerns the Guoshi. We must not be reckless.”

The Taibu nodded. "Mn."

---

[a] Xue Xian’s given name 闲 (xian2) means “idle”. 

[b] Lao-Li-shu means “old uncle Li”.

[c] Shen: see glossary. Li-dashen means “auntie Li”; the “da” which means “great”, “big”, or “eldest” is used to denote her age. 

[d] 二李子 (er4 li3 zi) means “second Li”, a very colloquial way to denote the second son of the Li family. (子 means son, but is also a diminutive form similar to “-ito/-ita” in Spanish. I interpret it as the diminutive form here.) It is likely that –– like Lu Nianqi and Lu Shijiu –– this man does not have a ‘proper’ name and is known exclusively as Er Li-zi. In my original TL I translated this as “Li Two”. 

[e] Musuli uses the expression that she likes to use, “as light as a dragonfly across water/a pond” 

[f] “Tortoise” 龟 (gui1) and “return” 归 (gui1) sound exactly the same in Mandarin.

[g] The Chinese word 药 (yao4) means “medicine/medication” in general -- there is no specific word for “pill” and other forms of medication when discussing such things casually. I chose to use “pill” here because, in English, it makes more sense that a folk rumor would give the miracle medicine a specific form. 

[h] Musuli uses 神药 (shen4 yao4) here. 神 means god/godly, divine, magical/mystical, etc. 

[i] The Chinese word 鸽子 (ge1 zi) means both pigeon and dove. I chose ‘dove’ because it matches the all-white aesthetic of the Taichang Si. 

This chapter was beta’d by Rogue!

[Revised TL] 69 铜钱龛世 | Tong Qian Kan Shi | Copper Coins -- 木苏里 | Musuli -- 英语翻译 | English translation -- Chapter 69

The JJWXC raws are here. Please support Musuli if you can! The novel is very cheap to buy; this guide tells you how to use JJWXC.

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Chapter 69: Dog Tag (IV)

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Translator’s note / content warning (SPOILERS FOR CH 69): 

In this chapter, Xue Xian regains the use of his legs and can walk again. He is very excited by this and the narration describes his former disability in slightly unfavorable terms. 

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"Speak." Xuanmin was still standing with his back to Xue Xian. As always, he spoke simply, his words direct.

    

The soldier seemed not to have expected them to agree so readily, or perhaps he was simply confused. He paused for a while, then said, "Could I... Could I please trouble the two of you to bring me to my home?" [a]

Stunned, Xue Xian peered out from behind Xuanmin and asked, "Your home?"

"Yes." The soldier nodded and slowly explained, "Earlier, I heard you mention Boji Mountain. My home happens to be on the sunny side of Boji Mountain –– a small village at its foot."

    

That really wasn't very far at all: all they had to do was leave the hollow and go around the mountain.

But...

    

Didn't you just say that, as soon as you became conscious, you heard us say we wanted to leave?! But now your story’s changed! When did you hear us say Boji Mountain? When did you become conscious? Xue Xian screamed in his head. He'd wanted to scream it out loud, but had then decided that it was best to keep as straight an expression as possible. He stiffened his back and stopped sticking his head out from behind Xuanmin to peek at the soldier.

    

"My parents and wife are still there. I thought... if you could bring my dog tag to them, they can at least have some closure," the soldier was saying. Thankfully, he was in a melancholy mood and did not notice Xue Xian's reaction to his previous words. He concentrated on speaking to Xuanmin, telling the story of how and when he'd come to join the military, and how many years it had been since he'd been home. He spoke in a rambling, stumbling manner, but it was not the irritating kind of rambling.

    

Xue Xian pressed his hands against the table. Initially, he was listening intently to everything the soldier was saying. But soon, with his eyes fixed on Xuanmin's back, he began to zone out again.

    

Then he suddenly realised that he had never seen Xuanmin’s back before. 

    

At first, Xue Xian had been a paper man and was always hanging off the side of Xuanmin's hip. All Xuanmin had been able to see of Xue Xian had been the top of his head, and when Xue Xian had looked up, he’d mainly seen the bottom of Xuanmin's chin. Then, Xue Xian had become a golden marble, and he’d had far fewer opportunities to even peek his head out of the pouch. After he'd gotten his original body back, he had been either a tiny creature coiled around Xuanmin's wrist or an enormous, mountain-sized beast coiled around Xuanmin’s whole body. And even when Xue Xian had been in his human form, he had usually been carried in Xuanmin's arms, and had liked to cover his face with a black cloth. Next, he’d gotten a wheelchair and become able to go around by himself, but he'd always insisted on being at the front of the group...

    

All in all, as Xue Xian looked back now, he realised that he only ever saw Xuanmin from all sorts of weird angles –– never so normally as now. Indeed, it was instead Xue Xian’s back that Xuanmin often saw.

    

He had to admit, this was an excellent angle to be viewed at: no matter how uncontrolled the expression in your eyes was, the other person would never be able to see, which meant you didn’t have to worry about making things awkward. 

    

Xuanmin's shoulders were very wide. From beneath that thin white robe, they appeared sturdy and muscular. He was even taller than Xue Xian had assumed: he was able to completely block someone behind him and inhibit their entire line of sight.    

    

A back like this gave Xue Xian the urge to get closer.

    

Xue Xian's hands on the desk twitched, but before he could raise them, he heard the soldier finish his story and say to Xuanmin, "I beg you to allow me this final request. When I return to the earth, I will serve you hand and foot––" [b]

    

"No need," Xuanmin said coolly, interrupting the man. "You have not yet entered the resurrection cycle, and mustn't speak nonsense."

The soldier thought that Xuanmin had denied him. He became panic-stricken and began to blubber.

Xuanmin added, "We will tidy up here, and then bring you back."

The soldier thanked him profusely.

    

Xue Xian placed his hands back onto the table, pressing down. Thanks to the nature of his position, with Xue Xian staring at Xuanmin’s back and thus avoiding awkward eye contact, Xue Xian’s unease from before had diluted a little. He asked, "You're just taking that one book?"

    

"No need. I've memorised the contents." Xuanmin glanced at him, then suddenly turned around and walked over. "It is almost wu geng. By the time we take this soldier back to his home, it will be sunrise."

    

Now that they were face to face, the afterglow from earlier surged back up again within Xue Xian.

Xuanmin was avoiding Xue Xian’s gaze. As he reached out to take Xue Xian into his arms again, Xue Xian automatically complied, although his entire body had become tense and as stiff as a board. 

    

But as soon as Xue Xian’s body came into contact with Xuanmin's robe, he suddenly realised. He said, "My legs have healed."

As he’d spoken, he'd abruptly raised his head, and now there was a thud as he bumped his head right into Xuanmin's chin.

    

Xue Xian hissed unhappily, but before he could do anything else, a hand came down onto the part of his head that had been bumped. A thumb even rubbed gently over that spot. 

    

"A dragon's head isn't so easily dented. I was hissing for you," Xue Xian said. After the nonsense that had occurred before, this was the aftermath: every slight touch from Xuanmin was impossible to ignore. Xue Xian kept his tense neck completely frozen, and he allowed Xuanmin to pat his head a little longer before he stiffly said, "Did you bite down on your tongue?"

    

"It is fine," Xuanmin replied. He took his hand away and took a step back, his gaze falling on Xue Xian's legs swinging down from the edge of the table. "Did you say your legs had healed?"

Xue Xian nodded. "Earlier, you gave me your copper coin pendant for me to heal with. At some point in the evening, I came to and realised I had actually successfully healed them, but I didn't... get the chance to say..."

    

Damn his reckless mouth. Before Xue Xian had realised what he was saying, he'd already given most of it away, so he’d had no choice but to finish his sentence.

Didn't get the chance to say...

And why hadn't he had the chance to say? Because the night had taken an indecent turn. 

You really know exactly the right thing to say, don't you? thought Xue Xian.

He looked away and put on a casual tone. "So basically, first of all my legs are fine now, and second of all I'm going to shut up now. So there." He pursed his lips tightly, as though he wished he could simply fuse his lips together and never speak again.

    

Xuanmin uttered a deep “Mn,” signalling that he had heard Xue Xian.

Before that weird atmosphere could rise back up again, Xuanmin was already walking toward the prayer mat and putting the books he'd flipped back onto the bookcase.

    

Xue Xian stole a glance at him, then quickly looked away. He gritted his teeth and pressed his hands against the table, then tried to move his legs. 

He could move them!

    

Of course he could move them... He'd already moved earlier, when he had parted his knees to let Xuanmin move closer. 

As Xue Xian cursed himself, he brought his feet down to the ground and pushed himself up from the table.

    

Obviously, a pair of legs that had spent half a year completely paralysed and that could now move just a little could not necessarily hold up the entire weight of a person. 

    

Xue Xian's knees immediately buckled, and he almost crumpled to the ground in a most humiliating manner. But as he stumbled, a hand instantly shot out to grip his wrist. The hand's palm faced up so that it steadily supported his weight. The grip was strong and firm, and held him so tightly that the knuckles on the back of that hand protruded from the tension.

    

"Weren't you tidying the books?" Xue Xian said, shocked. "Do you have eyes on the back of your head now?"

Xuanmin did not answer that question. Instead, he frowned and said, "How could you fall?"

    

"I could fly into the sky fine. Why are there so many obstacles to walking on the ground?" Xue Xian muttered unhappily.

    

As he leaned against Xuanmin, he tried to direct more strength into his legs. Those legs, which had not felt anything for six months, now slowly began to feel a tingling numbness, like countless fine needles had been stuck into each and every one of his nerves.

    

It was a highly uncomfortable feeling, but Xue Xian was overjoyed. Because as the prickling feeling gradually disappeared, those legs that had slumbered for so long were now truly awake.

    

"I can walk again," Xue Xian said to Xuanmin, looking both amazed and at a loss.

He used Xuanmin's hand as a support to lift each of his legs and twist his ankles, working away the last of the numbness. Then, he tried to take a step.

    

"I really can walk again." As Xue Xian spoke, he sounded as though he were in a dream –– part of him could barely believe it, as though he had been gifted with something extraordinary.

A divine dragon who was naturally arrogant and stubborn, who was used to flying high into the sky to frolic among storm clouds, was now utterly taken aback by something so small and simple –– it really was rather unbelievable.

    

As he raised his head to look back at Xuanmin, Xue Xian noticed that, at some point and for some reason, Xuanmin had begun to gaze at his face.

"What's wrong with my face?" Xue Xian demanded. Dragging himself out of that state of wonder and excitement, he raised a hand to touch his face. "Do I look stupid right now? If someone had broken your legs and made them paralysed for half a year, your reaction would probably be even worse than mine..." he said, half in self-deprecation, half in mockery. 

    

Having been caught in the act, Xuanmin slowly looked away. "Take a few more steps," he said. "I'll support you."

    

Xue Xian was so invested in the joy of getting his legs back that he did not notice that there was a rare layer of warmth in Xuanmin's tone.

    

It was clear now that the zuzong’s physicality was indeed different from humans'. Those legs that hadn't moved for half a year needed only a few more steps to regain some more strength, and soon began to move as though they had never been paralysed at all. Only Xue Xian himself knew that, inside his body, there were still bones missing. The fact that he could walk now was all thanks to the golden threads drawn out by Xuanmin's pendant.

But those threads were ultimately still prosthetics, and would not last very long. If Xue Xian wanted to fully heal, he still needed to find those missing vertebrae...

    

So what? At least now he could walk, and he could run. Just this small fact made Xue Xian happy. He felt as though he had finally been relieved of an impossibly heavy load, and that feeling was enough to bury all of his previous emotions.    

He had even forgotten all about the awkwardness. Steadily, he walked up the stairs and returned outside, where he pointed at the wheelchair and jutted his chin out at Xuanmin, saying, "I'll give this to you as a present. Perhaps in fifty years you'll need it."

Xuanmin: “…”

    

If Xuanmin continued to let the niezhang roam all about the room with nowhere to expend his newfound energy, he was bound to start saying even more absurd things. Xuanmin did not delay: he brought the dazed soldier's spirit with him and walked out of the mountain hollow with Xue Xian.

    

The two were not afraid of the poisonous fog, and the soldier, who was not alive, was naturally not afraid either.

So they were out of Boji Mountain in no time. They followed the foot of the mountain and headed toward the village on the south side.

    

Although the mountain hollow was covered in fog, the other side was in fact clean and clear. On that rare night without any rain nor snow, a crescent of silver moon hung above the mountain peak and cast a white glow across the land. 

When Xue Xian walked, his steps were subtle and steady. His pace was neither hurried nor too slow, and he made no noise at all. The way he walked was highly different from his usual troublesome personality, and in fact far more similar to Xuanmin.

    

As they walked along the mountain road, that thin black robe of Xue Xian’s rippled lightly in the breeze and sometimes glided over the long stalks of grass pushing out of the soil. Half of his lanky silhouette was outlined by the white light of the moon, and the other half was submerged in the inky darkness of the night, as black as his robes.

Xue Xian and Xuanmin walking side by side made quite the uncanny pair: one white, one black. Even looking at them sent chills down the soldier’s spine. 

Halfway through their journey, the wu geng bells and drums had rung out all across Qingping County. Successive ringing sounds reached out from the center of the xian cheng. In the outskirts of the village south of the mountain, the clucks of chickens and the barks of dogs began to sound out, one after the other. 

By the time the group arrived at the village gate, most of the inhabitants were already awake and the sound of murmurs could be heard beyond.

The group had a resentful spirit with them, and, although he was a frail, wispy thing of a ghost, they were still bound to scare the villagers. So before they entered the village, in order to avoid unnecessary hassle and delay them further, Xue Xian cast a spell on the three of them so that no person or animal could see or hear them. They were hidden.

    

"Where's your house?" Xue Xian asked.

The soldier pointed a finger ahead. "If we follow this street, there is a pond over there, and we can follow it around. My house is behind it." 

"Let's go, then," Xue Xian said –– but, suddenly, he heard a gloomy sighing noise somewhere close by.

    

That sudden sigh was highly startling, especially in contrast to the peaceful streets of the village.

Next, someone in the village screamed, provoking more shouts and murmurs as people rushed over to help them. Amid the chaos, someone's dog also began to bark furiously, and was quickly joined by a chorus of other crazed, terrified dogs.

    

Yet, that melancholy sigh was not at all unfamiliar to Xue Xian.

He looked up and scoffed. "You really know how to pick a time."

---

The author has something to say: 

The updates from these few days are not super long. Mainly I’m trying to deal with the jetlag from my all-nighters. Updates will start getting longer again soon, kiss~ 

---

[a] 老家 (lao3 jia1), literally “old home”, means one’s hometown or place of origin.

[b] 做牛做马 (zuo4 niu2 zuo4 ma3), literally “be a cow, be a horse” is a phrase that means to perform every type of labor or task for someone as their servant. 

This chapter was beta’d by Rogue!

[Revised TL] 68 铜钱龛世 | Tong Qian Kan Shi | Copper Coins -- 木苏里 | Musuli -- 英语翻译 | English translation -- Chapter 68

The JJWXC raws are here. Please support Musuli if you can! The novel is very cheap to buy; this guide tells you how to use JJWXC.

---

Chapter 68: Dog Tag (III)

It was only a twitch. Within a blink of an eye, it went away, and the dog tag was still.

A mistake?

Xue Xian's reflexes were still quite slow. He looked down dully at his own lap, unsure if he should check his pocket, as though waiting for the movement to occur again.

    

Danglang.

The gentle sound of metal clinking against metal rang out. In the absolute stillness of the room, it was loud and clear.

    

"It's moved," Xue Xian suddenly said, pointing at his own robe and looking up at Xuanmin.

Xuanmin was already looking over at him with those dark eyes –– it was unclear if he, too, had heard the clinking, or if he had simply been staring at Xue Xian.

The lantern light was so weak that, by the time it reached Xuanmin, it was extremely dim. Xue Xian could not see what expression laid behind those eyes –– but even if he had been able to see, he would probably still be unable to guess what Xuanmin was thinking. Not after all that had happened tonight. 

    

Those eyes were probably completely calm and collected as usual...

Xue Xian repeated, "Something's moved."

    

Clearly, some things needed to be done in moderation. If you were too indulgent, you might become lazy and idle, or just a little stupid. Xue Xian's current slow state was in high contrast to his normal behavior. When they’d been talking earlier, the nature of their conversation meant it wasn’t obvious how dazed Xue Xian was. But now that something important was happening, he found himself stressed and confused. [a]

    

Xuanmin sat there, his body half-illuminated and half-submerged in the shadows as he looked back at Xue Xian. Finally, he said, "Mn."

In the silence of the night, Xuanmin’s voice was as deep as a lake. Combined with the orange glow of the lantern, his voice seemed even to lose its usual edge and coldness, and instead revealed a sense of warmth and fondness, which tugged at Xue Xian's heart in an inexplicable way. 

    

Thus, Xue Xian faltered for some time. Only when the thing in his pocket moved again did he return to his senses.

    

After three twitches, Xue Xian was finally dragged out of the daze of his afterglow. He looked down and reached into his pocket.

The pocket had been drenched in sweat earlier, and was still a little damp. So as he took out those thin dog tags, these, too, were covered in a slight layer of moisture. 

    

Danglang.

As Xue Xian retrieved the dog tags, that metal clinking noise arose again. 

    

Now, Xue Xian could be sure that the movement came from only one of the dog tags among the pile. He spread those twenty or thirty flakes of metal across the desk under the dim lantern glow, reaching out to fiddle with them one by one.

    

Danglang.

    

"I found it," said Xue Xian, pointing at the suspect dog tag and picking it up.

"Perhaps the resentful energy has not yet dissipated," Xuanmin said.

"Mn," Xue Xian said idly. He brought the dog tag closer to the light and squinted at it again, then looked closer at the scratched-out name on the back. After a long time, he clicked his tongue and said, "I can't read it."

    

Those scratches were far too messy. It was impossible even to see the original markings, let alone read the name.

Xue Xian sat up and held the dog tag out to Xuanmin.

"What is it?" Xuanmin asked.

"Here. Do the rites," Xue Xian said lazily. Then he looked back at the rest of the dog tags on the table and counted them. "Twenty-eight. Do you need incense? You'll have to prepare twenty-eight sticks of incense."

    

As he spoke, perhaps because it had heard him and understood, the dog tag in his hand suddenly trembled again, as though wanting to escape his grasp. 

"Don't move," Xue Xian told the dog tag without thinking.

    

Don't move...

Earlier, desperate for release, Xue Xian had taken hold of that hand in front of him and brought it into the folds of his robe. Xuanmin seemed to have said that to him, then. Xuanmin had said it more than once.

    

As he inadvertently repeated that phrase, Xue Xian's still-fatigued mind couldn't help but go back to the sound of Xuanmin's heavy breaths interwoven with his own. He trailed off, and by the time he'd managed to drag himself back out of the memory, he found that his cheeks and the tips of his ears were hot.

His body tense all over, Xue Xian held onto that dog tag and stole a glance at Xuanmin.

For a moment, Xuanmin's gaze seemed to lower slightly, but then he looked back up at Xue Xian's face. Eventually, his eyes settled on the dog tag in Xue Xian's hand. Not once did Xuanmin look directly into Xue Xian's eyes –– either because he happened to skip them as a coincidence, or because he was avoiding them.

    

Before, when the fog had first dissipated, Xue Xian had specifically chosen to use a casual tone when making his proposition to Xuanmin. He’d wanted to use his normal, nonchalant tone to squash the awkwardness of the intimacy between them.

    

Indeed, although he had been alive for many, many years, Xue Xian had never encountered a situation like this before, and didn't know how he was supposed to approach it. [b] All he could do was grit his teeth and treat it as ‘the most normal thing in the world’: a simple helping hand given between friends.

In the future, once many years had passed and the already ambiguous memory had faded to almost nothing, perhaps it really would reduce itself to a small, inconsequential matter. As for Xue Xian and Xuanmin, they could continue to interact the way they'd always interacted, and did not need to expend time or energy changing anything about their relationship.

    

That was also, perhaps, why Xuanmin had summoned that poisonous fog: with the dense white fog between them, they’d been unable to see each other's faces and unable, therefore, to catch anything in the other's gaze or expression. This helped the whole experience resemble a strange and blurry dream, and for no unnecessary complications to come out of it.

    

But now, as a single phrase had triggered Xue Xian's memory, he couldn't help but think of that moment. Certain emotions took advantage of the memory to come pouring back into him. Xue Xian realised that some matters could not be pushed aside simply by injecting a casual tone into one’s voice…

    

Xue Xian was still staring at the dog tags. Then, as he stole another glance at Xuanmin, he suddenly came back to his senses.

    

Xue Xian tugged the corners of his mouth upwards, wanting to say something offhand to offset that suddenly awkward atmosphere. Instead, he found himself putting on a false smile, one that looked extremely insincere as well. So he gave up, and just said, "I don't think it's resentful energy on this dog tag. There seems to be something else."

    

It was unclear whether Xuanmin had zoned out or if he was pondering something, but some time passed before he blinked and replied. "The souls have spent too long trapped beneath the river. They must be half disintegrated by now. In this fragmented state, it's unlikely that resentful energy can become so tangible."

Xuanmin paused, then got up from the prayer mat and walked over to Xue Xian with his hand out. "Give it to me,” he said.

    

When he’d been sitting down, he'd still been able to look at Xue Xian, but now that he was coming over, Xuanmin was definitely avoiding looking directly at Xue Xian. His gaze was focused entirely on the dog tag as he picked it up, wrapped it in talismanic paper, and murmured a prayer while giving the wrapped tag a flick with his finger.

    

The dog tag emitted a weng–– sound and spasmed against Xuanmin’s palm. Next, the blurred silhouette of a man slowly squeezed itself out of the dog tag and hovered before Xuanmin.

    

Xue Xian peered over at the man, but his face was indistinct, as though shrouded in fog…

Fog...

Xue Xian forced his face to become blank as he rolled his eyes and shoved the beginnings of that memory back into the depths of his mind. He continued to peer over––

    

The man's face was quite hard to make out, but Xue Xian could roughly see that everything that was supposed to be on one’s face was there. The man did not wear a soldier's uniform, but instead wore only a basic and slightly ragged overcoat –– the openings of its sleeves were empty, and hung limply against his side. 

    

Clearly, someone so gravely injured had been unable to return to the battlefield –– he could no longer even hold a weapon –– so he must have retired. Xue Xian realised that such soldiers, forced to return home, would probably have had rather complicated emotions about their retirement…

    

As Xue Xian looked over at him, the man seemed stunned. The man looked down at his own body too, as though surprised that he now had a silhouette. Then, he got down on one knee in front of Xuanmin and Xue Xian and bowed his head in an incomplete but highly respectful greeting.

And because he had no arms, as he got back up, his movements were strained and stilted.

    

"Th-thank you, dashis, for your help," he said. So he could speak, but his voice was abnormally low, and as hazy as his form.

Even so, the sound of his own voice made him jump in fright.

    

"I can speak again..." he muttered. "Can you hear me?"

Xuanmin looked him up and down, then nodded.

    

"Was it you moving around just now?" Xue Xian asked.

The man nodded and said, "It was."

    

"A final request not completed? Or too much resentment to transcend?” Xue Xian asked.

The man nodded, then shook his head. "I wouldn't dare. It's just..."

    

After all, the man was not a normal spirit. He was a fragmented soul made strong through forceful combination with resentful energy. He spoke slowly and with great effort, and needed to stop every few words, as though, in the middle of his sentence, he had forgotten how he'd intended to finish. He paused to think for a while, then added, "I heard that you were about to leave this place..."

    

Heard?

Xue Xian froze as he tried to recall it: earlier, when he’d had nothing to say but had still wanted to say something, he had indeed said something like, If there's nothing else, then let's tidy up and go back to the Fangs. But… Heard?!

    

"You heard? What else did you hear?" Xue Xian’s face turned dark, then green, then white. His gaze unconsciously floated to Xuanmin.

    

Xuanmin seemed to sense that he was being observed, so he glanced back at Xue Xian. But he soon retracted his gaze and looked at the man, as though waiting for the man to answer that highly awkward question.

   

If this dog tag had been conscious the whole fucking time, and had been able to hear everything in the outside world, then...

Xue Xian was positive that he had never in his life felt his face grow so hot.

    

When it had been just Xue Xian and Xuanmin alone together, then anything they did while under the influence of dragon spit fever could be kind of understandable. It was a secret held between you, me, the heavens, and the earth. It wasn't entirely impossible just to bury the matter and never speak of it again.

But if some random third person knew about your secret too, then that changed everything. That palpable awkwardness rippled back up into the room, still mixed in with that strange, indescribable intimacy. Any and all pretense about what had occurred between Xue Xian and Xuanmin being ‘understandable’ was ruined. 

    

Xue Xian couldn't avoid thinking back to the details of what had happened –– this time, he willingly recalled them. But as he scanned the memory again, those dazed, vague moments did not become any clearer. He still could not remember if, amidst that unbearable anxiety, he had cried out, nor if he had muttered any other nonsense.

    

He probably hadn't, but who knew...

Well, one person did know, but...

    

Xue Xian glanced at Xuanmin again, then looked down and frowned. Maybe I should commit suicide right now, he thought. Or please just hurry up and do the rites for that damn spirit so he can transcend and go away. 

    

By the time Xue Xian looked up again, he discovered that, for some reason, Xuanmin had moved slightly closer to him. And he didn't know if this meant anything at all, but Xuanmin now happened to be standing between Xue Xian and the soldier. It gave Xue Xian the feeling that he had just been protectively pushed behind someone's back. 

Now that his vision was blocked, Xue Xian could no longer see the soldier, only Xuanmin's back. Naturally, the soldier could not see Xue Xian either. As he realised this, his embarrassed blush went away a bit.

    

Thankfully, that soldier replied, "My mind was never very clear. As soon as I became conscious, I heard the two of you say that you were going to leave, but... But before you leave, could you help me with something?"

---

The author has something to say: 

Yesterday I wrote a ton of fog into my story, and this morning I opened the door and saw that it was foggy outside. I felt chills down my spine!

---

[a] What Musuli is alluding to in a very vague manner here is that Xue Xian came too hard and now is not as smart as he normally is.

[b] I had a reader ask about potential inconsistencies in terms of Xue Xian’s past sexual experience, because later in the novel Musuli states that Xue Xian had been promiscuous in the past. Here, I think Musuli specifically means that Xue Xian has never been mutually afflicted by an aphrodisiac when in the company of a second person and felt the need to offer to relieve them, i.e. he’s never been in this exact situation before. 

This chapter was beta’d by Rogue!

[Revised TL] 67 铜钱龛世 | Tong Qian Kan Shi | Copper Coins -- 木苏里 | Musuli -- 英语翻译 | English translation -- Chapter 67

The JJWXC raws are here. Please support Musuli if you can! The novel is very cheap to buy; this guide tells you how to use JJWXC.

---

Chapter 67: Dog Tag (II)

Outside, while they weren’t paying attention, the sky had long turned to a deep blue. For once, the night was not windy, and the entire vast forest within the mountain hollow stood absolutely still, without even the soft noise of leaves rustling against each other. The world was full of an eerie calm.

    

The black bird, which really did seem to belong to Xuanmin, had flown out of the room as soon as the sun had set, and was now perched somewhere inside the dark forest, every once in a while crying out in an idle manner.

But the bird's cry did not sound like a normal caw –– instead, it was far closer to a human sigh. Its echoing sighs made the night seem gloomy, as though it was haunted, which explained why all those rumors about Boji Mountain had proliferated.

    

The bird's sighs resonated within the mountain hollow, sounding much louder and nearer than they really were.

The poisonous fog that Xue Xian had blown away that day reappeared with the night, gliding at a deceptively slow pace across the hollow. Soon, it had become a dense blanket around the forest again.

    

This fog was far heavier than normal fog, white and soupy like a block of congealed fat. In no time, it had swallowed everything, so that anyone trying to walk through it would not even be able to see their own five fingers in front of them. If two people stood next to each other, they would only be able to hear one another, and not see anything.

    

Thankfully Stone Zhang and Lu Nianqi had left early, for if they'd encountered such a fog on their journey, they would be lucky to survive.

    

Unlike them, Xue Xian and Xuanmin did not fear the fog. Earlier, when they’d arrived at the mountain and dissipated the fog, had been more out of consideration for the other two. Xue Xian and Xuanmin had their own ways of avoiding the effects of poison, so their bodies did not, in reality, feel the effects of the fog at all.

As the fog crept in again, it felt far denser than it had been before Xue Xian had repelled it. Now, even the bamboo building could not escape it: the fog slithered in through the gaps in the windows and filled every floor with blinding whiteness, as well as a chilling cold air.

Yet, amid the freezing chill, Xue Xian was so hot that he was sweating all over.

    

He frowned and tugged at his robes. The sleeves that he'd folded up earlier came loose and swayed off his thin frame. 

    

Because he was wearing all black, it was impossible for anyone else to tell, but Xue Xian was completely drenched in sweat. The thin cloth of his robe, laden with moisture, stuck uncomfortably to his back and arms, but hung off him from the front, so that his open collar revealed a long slice of flesh along his neck and chest.

    

Having been half-paralysed for six months, Xue Xian had lost a lot of weight and shed much of the muscle on his body, so that only a thin, lean layer remained. Now, the clammy sweat made his skin glow dimly under the lantern light, giving him a renewed air of sturdiness.

    

He was still sitting on the desk, his two hands gripping its side and his head leaning forward so that the sweat on his forehead was dipping onto his eyelids. His eyes were half-closed, and the moisture in his eyelashes blurred everything in his vision.

   

Xue Xian didn't know how much worse the third dose of dragon spit felt compared to Xuanmin's feverish state the previous night. He only knew that, right now, he felt unbearably hot, and that his own sweat was washing across his body in ceaseless waves. He was also much more sensitive than usual, and could not touch a single cun of his skin or a single hair on his body. Even the sensation of the sweat seeping out of his pores was enough to stimulate him and make his entire body tremble.

    

He needed to find a way to direct the heat and the accompanying anxious feeling out of his body, but he had no idea how. Besides, he was so deeply submerged in the heat that his whole skeleton felt as though it were swimming in hot sweat, giving him an indescribable bloated sensation. Even raising his hand from the table had become an almost impossible task.

    

In Xue Xian’s daze, the sigh of the crow outside became an uncanny whisper in his ear that made his eardrums itch, which in turn sent more shivers down his body.

    

He had hoped Xuanmin would come up with an idea. After all, their senses were linked and they were experiencing the same thing. But Xuanmin insisted on repressing it, whereas Xue Xian saw no end nor limit to the scorching heat inside him. If it kept on like this, he really would...

Xue Xian squinted. He shook his head, forcing himself to stay awake.

    

But as he moved, beads of sweat ran down his neck, triggering the tingling nerves in his skin. Gently, like a dragonfly skidding across the water, the sweat streamed down to his chest. 

Xue Xian tightened his grip on the side of the table and took a deep breath –– another wave of stimulation. 

    

He couldn't remember if he had spoken to Xuanmin. Perhaps he had called out for him once or twice, or perhaps his voice had become stuck at the bottom of his throat, with no words coming out.

He did not know how much time had passed. As his eyelids began to flutter shut again, the thick fog inside the room –– whether controlled by someone or of its own accord –– suddenly grew even denser. It clouded over even the lantern by Xue Xian’s side, and was so thick that he couldn’t see the bottom half of his own robes anymore.

    

The white fog before Xue Xian’s eyes made him even more disoriented. He frowned and took some more deep, slow breaths, scanning his blurred gaze aimlessly across the floor of the room. His eyelids, drenched in fine beads of sweat, slowly... slowly... dragged themselves open and shut, yet never fully closed.

    

In his ever-deeper daze, Xue Xian thought he could hear Xuanmin speak to him. Xuanmin’s voice felt both close by and far away at the same time. He was saying, "Give me your hand."

    

Xue Xian did not know if he had heard Xuanmin correctly, but he automatically loosened the grip of one of his hands and lethargically pointed it outward. Immediately, his hand was held in the grasp of another. That hand gripping his was hot to the touch, but strong, and as it held Xue Xian tightly, he felt as though it had become the only thing keeping him upright.

    

Slowly, gradually, Xue Xian began to lean into that hand until his entire weight was pressing against it.

He tightened his own grip and opened his mouth to say something, but in the next instant, no words came out. Instead, the breath moving in and out of his nose suddenly became heavier. Because another hand had reached out from the white fog and landed on the curve of his waist.

    

Xue Xian's eyelids stopped blinking as a shudder passed through them. He froze for a moment, and then his breath suddenly quickened. 

All of that overwhelming heat and anxiety inside him finally found an out. Xue Xian frowned and loosened his other hand's grip on the table, violently grabbing the hand that rested on his waist and pulling it closer toward him. As he grasped that second hand, he unconsciously dragged it beneath his loosely folded robe.

    

"Don't move," said the person whose hand he'd seized. The fog was too dense, and Xue Xian saw nothing before him except a white oblivion. He could not see Xuanmin's face, but in that low voice, Xue Xian could detect a sense of peace — as well as, perhaps because of their shared fever, a slight huskiness. 

    

But they were already at this stage. Xue Xian had no intention of obeying. He guided that hand beneath his robes, searching, and as the hand felt hungrily across his body, the thin cloth of his robe shifted too. The cloth followed the motion of the hand that it was concealing, moving again and again, urgently and manically, without ever stopping...

    

The anxiety within Xue Xian was consuming all parts of his body, and his mind was still utterly blank. He was dimly aware that, at some point, and somehow, the silent person helping him had pulled him closer, so close that Xue Xian had to pry his knees apart slightly in order to let that person stand steady between them. So close that, in his daze, as that hand tugged up and down, Xue Xian thought he could feel the other person react, too. 

    

Yet he still could not see that person’s face –– he could only hear his breathing, so close that their breaths seemed to tangle themselves together, becoming intertwined.

    

Somehow, Xue Xian's other hand, the one that held Xue Xian’s own weight, had been clamped down onto the desk. As his hand moved up and down, the other hand against the table clenched itself into a fist and let go, over and over. And his forehead was burrowed in the other person's shoulder, his half-closed eyes still shrouded by the mist.

    

Xuanmin seemed to tell him not to move again, and then, for some reason, tried to step away, but Xue Xian held on tightly and would not let him leave.

The discomfort caused by the dragon spit was far worse than experiencing such a state in normal circumstances, which made it so that it was a long time before that anxious feeling within Xue Xian began to near its peak. He thought he might make a noise –– he was so close to relief.

When the moment came, Xue Xian’s fingers began to tremble desperately. He himself couldn't figure out whether this was an urge to ease his own discomfort, or to hold on tighter to Xuanmin's hand. His entire spine was rigid with tension.

Soon, he burrowed his head further into the crook of Xuanmin's neck and squeezed his eyes shut as the sense of relief rushed across his body.

Xue Xian remained there, silent and tense for a while, and then slowly began to relax. He was finally able to breathe again. Another wave of sweat poured down his body, the moisture seeping through his robe.

    

Yet dragon spit was too powerful, and not so easily defeated. Soon, that anxiety surged within him once again...

    

Everything he could remember about what had happened next had been fragmented by that strange fog. Looking back at when Xue Xian had used Xuanmin to help himself, Xue Xian could not remember how long they had tussled, nor if he had bitten Xuanmin’s neck...

    

But no matter how long it had been, that fog had lingered the whole time, and Xue Xian had not at all been able to see Xuanmin's face. It was an odd, indescribable feeling, tinged with a slight awkwardness — so that even Xue Xian, who had up until now been open to everything, felt flustered.

    

After a long time, Xue Xian finally felt himself become fully calm. The anxiety within him seemed to have gone away, leaving a faint impression, which waxed and waned at the bottom of his heart. But with the dissipating sense of heat, even that was slowly seeping away.

He leant against the desk and let himself wind down. Soon, his restless hands were fiddling with the lantern again, and as the weak flame inside the lantern grew brighter, that dense fog suddenly disappeared too, as though it knew.

    

Xuanmin had summoned the fog on purpose...

Xue Xian thought this, but was too exhausted to say it out loud. When the poisonous fog finally lifted, he casually scanned the room again and saw that the bottom half of his robe, which he had lifted away to release heat, had now been gently drawn back in its place. Everything on that once pristine desk had become a scattered mess. Under the glow of the lamp, Xue Xian could even see streaks of sweat left behind by their hands having pressed themselves against the table, the prints damp yet too vague to make out.

    

Not far from Xue Xian, Xuanmin was kneeling on a prayer mat with his eyes closed, silently meditating. By his hands were some of the books he'd extracted from the bookshelf, stacked up neatly. It was as though he had never even left the mat.

    

Where Xuanmin sat, everything was clean and tidy, in great contrast to the clutter and disarray around Xue Xian. For a brief moment, Xue Xian had a doubt, and wondered whether all that had been yet another vision. 

    

He looked down at his own hands: thankfully, his wrists were mottled with bruises in the shape of another person's tight grasp. If not for this, Xue Xian would really have begun to believe that he'd experienced more Heart Demons. 

    

Xue Xian gazed at those marks for some time, then raised his head to say to Xuanmin, "Courtesy demands reciprocity. [a] Come over here and let me give you a hand. If you want, you can bring back some more mist. No one will be able to see anything. You can pretend it's all a dream."

Xuanmin did not even open his eyes. He paused, then quietly said, "No need. It's been resolved."

Xue Xian was still feeling dazed from his release, so his reflexes were a little slow. "Resolved? How is that possible? If meditation could cure it then why did I––"

    

Suddenly, he stopped himself and shut his mouth, swallowing the second half of his sentence.

Xuanmin was silent again. Finally, he said, "When you were resolved, I also stopped feeling uncomfortable."

“………” Xue Xian slowly digested the meaning behind those words, then sat there numbly. He wished he could spit on that bald donkey's disrespectful face.

    

Great. It was as though he had let loose a volley of arrows at his enemy, but the damn things turned in the middle of their journey and came right back to stab him in the heart…

    

"Lend me your belt," Xue Xian said with a blank expression on his face.

Xuanmin did not understand what he meant. Although he kept his eyes shut, he frowned and said, "What for?"

"I don't really want to live anymore," Xue Xian deadpanned. "Let me hang myself off your doorframe."

Xuanmin: “...”

"Will you lend it to me or not?" Xue Xian asked.

Xuanmin retracted his gaze. "No." [b]

Xue Xian let out an annoyed scoff and went back to fiddling with the lantern flame. He no longer wanted to speak.

    

It hadn't been that bad when they'd been talking. Now that the room had fallen into silence once again, a faint sense of awkward intimacy rushed to fill the space between them. Xue Xian looked down for a bit in contemplation, then said, "What time is it? If you're finished here, shall we go back to the Fangs?"

Before Xuanmin even had the time to respond, Xue Xian felt something in his pocket suddenly move.

---

[a] The chengyu here is 礼尚往来 (li3 shang4 wang3 lai2), which describes good will and good deeds being passed back and forth. 

[b] There isn’t a description of Xuanmin opening his eyes to look at Xue Xian before this, so I assume that this is a small mistake/inconsistency on Musuli’s part. 

This chapter was beta’d by Rogue!