Chu Hanjin looked at Yue Lin for a moment, his expression filled with both embarrassment and anger, but he forced himself to keep a stern face. “Do you think you know me that well?”

Yue Lin quickly backtracked. “Just joking, just joking.”

Chu Hanjin huffed. “Hmph.”

His temper was flaring up again, clearly on the verge of getting mad. But Yue Lin noticed that Chu Hanjin only acted this way toward him.

Realizing this, Yue Lin gently held onto Chu Hanjin’s pale ankle, carefully wiping it clean with a soft cloth before helping him to the bed to rest.

Chu Hanjin lay down in a neat position, his long, dark hair fanning out over the pillow. He held his chin slightly with one hand, looking like a beautiful person sleeping in a graceful pose.

Yue Lin sat down on the bed beside him.

Back in the mountains, they had shared a bed, and there was no need to make Yue Lin sleep on the floor now. Besides, Chu Hanjin had even left some space for him to lie down.

After they both settled in, the room fell into silence for a while.

Yue Lin finally broke it. “I know you’re not asleep yet.”

Chu Hanjin responded with a simple, “Hm?”

“Your breathing,” Yue Lin said confidently. “When you’re truly asleep, your breathing is slow and steady. Right now, it’s still restless.”

“…” Chu Hanjin couldn’t sleep, mostly because of that troubling curse. Things had progressed to a point where he was thoroughly confused.

Yue Lin spoke up again. “Get some rest. Worst case, we can still investigate that unfinished curse mark.”

Chu Hanjin closed his eyes and let out a quiet hum, his breath slowing down, as though sinking into deep water. In his dreams, he was drawn back to a battle from over a decade ago. His father and mother, both cultivators, had gone to the front lines to fight against the demonic forces, while he stood in the courtyard watching, the sky ablaze with fire, and the stars flickering like dancing fireflies.

But strangely, he was no longer a child. His fingers were gently held by a small hand.

A soft voice called out, “Father, Father.”

Chu Hanjin looked down in surprise to see an adorable child dressed in a red bellyband, with strands of hair hanging by his ears. The child beamed up at him with a sweet smile, hopping around, “Father, Father!”

Though Chu Hanjin hadn’t been sleeping well, his chest felt lighter at the sight of the child, and he returned the smile. “Is it really you?”

“Yes, it’s me, it’s me! Father, hug me!” The child reached up with his arms, signaling for Chu Hanjin to lift him.

Chu Hanjin picked the child up and held him in his arms. Soon after, a tall figure approached and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and the three of them stood together, gazing at the distant, flickering flames.

Chu Hanjin woke with a start and opened his eyes, only to find himself nestled in Yue Lin’s embrace, his neck resting on Yue Lin’s shoulder.

“…”

It was surprisingly comfortable, except that Yue Lin’s arm was draped around his waist. Who knew how many times Yue Lin had taken advantage of him during the night? His other large hand rested inappropriately on his backside.

“……”

The sunlight streamed through the window, and Chu Hanjin quietly pried Yue Lin’s hand off and sat up, fetching a basin of water to wash his face.

Yue Lin stirred awake as well. “Up so early?” he asked groggily, pushing the window open, squinting against the sunlight. Outside, the sounds of firecrackers and suona horns filled the air—it was the funeral procession. Eight men were carrying the coffin, with a Taoist priest leading the way with a peachwood sword. The grieving family, dressed in mourning clothes, followed on both sides, and the procession stretched all the way down the street.

“Young Master Zhou sure had a grand send-off,” Yue Lin remarked as he turned back. Chu Hanjin had already washed up and was ready to leave.

Yue Lin didn’t rush. “Let’s eat first. The procession moves slowly.”

After all, the coffin was heavy. The better the quality, the heavier it would be.

Sure enough, after they finished breakfast and caught up to the procession outside the city, the funeral party hadn’t gone far. They were making their way up a small path toward a burial mound where a large pit had already been dug. The pit was filled with burnt straw, and nearby, paper effigies for the funeral rites awaited to be burned.

It took all the strength of the eight pallbearers to lower the heavy golden sandalwood coffin into the pit. Their foreheads dripped with sweat as they waited for the Taoist to finish chanting spells and burning the paper effigies before picking up shovels to begin covering the coffin with soil.

Just as the first shovel of dirt landed on the coffin, a figure rushed forward, hurling herself onto the casket—it was Young Master Zhou’s mother. She wailed, her cries piercing the air. “My son—!”

The living continue to scrape by, but the dead are gone forever! Now that her son was about to be buried, forever separated by life and death, how could she not be overwhelmed with grief?

The mourners watched in silence as Madame Zhou clutched the coffin with one hand, her tears flowing uncontrollably. “My son, oh my son! You died so horribly! How could you leave me behind, all alone in this world? How am I supposed to live on without you?”

Someone stepped forward to console her. “Madame, please, hold on. What’s done is done. We must continue living well. The young master would want you to take care of yourself…”

But Madame Zhou didn’t seem to hear them. Her tears kept flowing. “Oh, my son! I failed you! I failed you… You were so young, and now you’re gone… It’s all my fault! It’s my fault!”

The scene was unbearably tragic, with onlookers wiping their eyes, deeply moved by the mother’s sorrow.

But upon hearing these words, Chu Hanjin couldn’t help but glance at Yue Lin.

The grief-stricken mother’s lament felt genuine, but it raised a puzzling question—why would she say she had failed her son?

Madame Zhou continued to pound on the coffin, “Oh, my son—I failed you. I was useless… I watched you die horribly, and I couldn’t even seek justice for you. Now you won’t even have peace on your journey to the afterlife, my son—”

Her cries were heart-wrenching, and the more sensitive women in the crowd gently dabbed at their tears.

But these words struck Chu Hanjin as even stranger. Even during the earlier wake, Madame Zhou had managed to keep her composure. Now, as her son was about to be buried, it seemed as if she could no longer hold back, her voice choking with sobs. “My son… my son… If you can still see… then… then… take revenge… take revenge on them… May they… may they die horrible deaths…”

With that, she suddenly closed her eyes, her whole body trembling as if overcome with grief, gasping for air.

A servant girl quickly supported her. “Madame! Madame!”

The scene descended into chaos as Madame Zhou was helped to a tree, where she sat with her legs spread, pale and wheezing.

The crowd buzzed with murmurs, and the Taoist sighed heavily. “The auspicious time has come. Proceed with the burial.”

The women who had come to witness the event tried to comfort Madame Zhou while a few men took shovels and began covering the coffin with dirt, chanting in unison with the Taoist’s sharp voice—

“May the insane be warded off and descendants flourish!”

Another shovelful of dirt!

“May the heavenly stars protect, banishing all evil spirits!”

Another shovel!

The soil rained down like snow, covering the coffin.

As Chu Hanjin listened, he found his feelings growing increasingly complicated.

—Those were spells meant to suppress vengeful spirits.

When the coffin was nearly covered, the rest of the burial process became a lengthy task of piling on more dirt. The mourners had completed their role in sending off the deceased and began to disperse. Soon, only a few strong men and the Taoist remained near the grave, along with Chu Hanjin and Yue Lin.

The Taoist removed his hat, reverting to his true identity as the funeral shopkeeper, and approached with a smile. “Good day, esteemed cultivators.”

“Thanks for your help yesterday,” Yue Lin said.

“No need to thank me, it was nothing at all.” He waved his hand dismissively. “All that’s left is to finish covering the coffin and shaping the burial mound. There’s nothing else to see here, so feel free to go back for breakfast.”

But Chu Hanjin didn’t move, his eyes fixed on the man’s face.

“…” The shopkeeper seemed to grow nervous, looking away and scratching his head.

Chu Hanjin asked, “Why were you using spells to suppress vengeful spirits?”

The shopkeeper laughed awkwardly. “That’s what makes a real cultivator, huh? You can hear everything. Normally, when I perform funeral rites, nobody else understands what I’m saying.”

“Tell the truth.”

Although Chu Hanjin’s tone wasn’t harsh, it carried an air of authority. His calm, cultured manner made it impossible to resist answering.

The shopkeeper sighed deeply, his eyes darting around. After confirming that no one else was listening, he let out a long, weary sigh. “Honestly, after you two came to investigate last night, I started to suspect something.”

“What do you mean?”

One of the men shoveling dirt glanced their way, but the shopkeeper was clearly in charge and waved them off.

The shopkeeper leaned closer and whispered, “The young master was murdered!”

Yue Lin scoffed. “Tell us something we don’t know.”

“…Alright.” The shopkeeper nodded, looking back at the coffin before speaking again. “As you both probably know, this city is under the control of the cultivators from Rongku Sect. And of the two major figures who oversee us, one is cold and arrogant, while the other is a lecherous brute. Life’s been tough for us ordinary folks.”

Chu Hanjin urged, “Go on.”

“Those two run this town like tyrants—local overlords who get whatever they want. Take that lecherous one, for example. Everyone knows about his ‘flower balls,’ and no one knows how many young lives he’s ruined. But the other one… he’s even scarier.”

“Chen Yang?”

“Exactly!”

Chu Hanjin nodded, thinking back on Chen Yang’s cold demeanor. Though not talkative, he had seemed composed and reliable, so this revelation was unsettling. “Continue.”

“He’s a killer—a devil in disguise. He’d do anything for immortality. A few years ago, kids started disappearing from the city in the middle of the night, all taken by him to be made into pills for his cultivation. And if he spotted anyone with strong spiritual potential, he’d steal it for himself. There used to be a scholar who lived down by the tofu shop on the slope. Chen Yang saw potential in him and wanted to take him as a disciple. But the scholar was only interested in studying and refused. After that…”

The shopkeeper licked his cracked lips. “Chen Yang visited him three times. The first time, he asked if the scholar wanted to cultivate with him. The scholar said no. The next day, his wife came down with leprosy and was close to death, but Chen Yang was the only one who could cure her. Still, the scholar refused. The wife died the next day! The third time, Chen Yang came back, and the scholar’s son had developed a massive tumor on his chin, barely able to breathe! Chen Yang asked him again, and even though the scholar knew what was happening, he said no again. That night, the boy’s tumor burst, and he bled to death right in front of his father!”

Chu Hanjin felt a cold sweat break out on his back.

Such cruelty, coming from someone who was supposed to be a righteous cultivator!

The shopkeeper snorted. “Scared me half to death. I was the one who had to handle the bodies both times. That little boy’s corpse—ugh, I almost threw up right there! And the scholar… he knelt on the ground, screaming and wailing as Chen Yang walked away. The hatred in his eyes… You wouldn’t believe it.”

Even though this story seemed unrelated to their case, Chu Hanjin couldn’t help but ask, “What happened to him?”

“The scholar? He hung himself. Right in front of the Taoist court, wearing white. His fingers were red with blood, and he left behind a letter of accusation. It caused quite the stir, but in the end, nothing came of it.”

Chu Hanjin’s expression grew even more serious. “Is this story true?”

“Of course! The bloodstains are still there on the tree where he hung himself. Chen Yang said the scholar had great spiritual potential, and he wasn’t lying. The hatred in that blood has kept the stains fresh for three years now.”

Chu Hanjin closed his eyes for a moment, pressing his lips together. “I will look into it and see that justice is served.”

“Justice?”

The shopkeeper seemed amused by the word, glancing at Chu Hanjin’s upright demeanor, then at Yue Lin’s brooding, sinister expression. The dynamic between the two was becoming increasingly strange, but he didn’t dare ask more. With a sigh, he pointed toward the coffin.

“Three months before Young Master Zhou died, the same thing happened to him.”

Chu Hanjin frowned. “What?”

The shopkeeper nodded with certainty. “Chen Yang said the same thing to him—that he had great spiritual potential and should follow him to cultivate.”

It felt like a bolt of lightning struck his mind.

Behind him, a voice slowly chimed in. “Who is it that’s spreading rumors about my senior brother and me?”

Chu Hanjin’s heart leaped, and the shopkeeper shrank like a frightened animal, turning around to see none other than Chen Yang and Luo Yang walking toward them.

The two of them were as handsome as ever, one stern and the other charming. But after everything they’d heard, Chu Hanjin couldn’t look at them without feeling repulsed, his stomach churning with disgust.

Luo Yang cast a glance at the shopkeeper. “Ah, it’s you again. You always have the longest tongue, spinning stories like a master weaver. What tall tale were you telling these esteemed cultivators? I’d like to hear it too.”

The shopkeeper didn’t dare say a word, and Yue Lin placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. “He was telling us a few stories about how you and your brother act like tyrants—murdering without a second thought.”

Luo Yang paused, then sighed softly. “I figured you wouldn’t believe me. Now that your investigation has led you to us, it seems my senior brother and I are out of luck. As for these accusations, I won’t bother defending myself.”

Chu Hanjin narrowed his eyes. “So, you’re admitting to it?”

“I’m not admitting anything. It’s just that, no matter what my brother and I do, you’ve already decided that we’re the villains. Even if we try to explain, I’m sure you won’t listen.”

Yue Lin let out a sharp laugh.

Luo Yang brushed off his sleeves, standing tall and proud. “The innocent will always remain innocent.”

Yue Lin couldn’t help but scoff, “What a righteous claim!”

Luo Yang glanced over. “Feel free to challenge me, Daoist. No need for the sarcasm.”

This exchange amused Yue Lin even more. “I’ve never seen a killer act so brazenly before.”

“When have I ever killed anyone?”

“The corpse in that coffin—are you really going to claim your brother didn’t try to recruit Young Master Zhou for his cultivation, and when he refused, you killed him out of spite?”

“Daoist, accusations require evidence. If you’re going to say I killed someone, then please tell me when, where, how, and with what weapon or spell? You can’t just throw accusations around without proof. That’s slander, and it’s despicable.”

Yue Lin was already prepared for Luo Yang’s silver tongue but found it even more slippery than expected.

He began to pace. “You used Xiao Die to get close to Young Master Zhou and then had him cast a curse on the young master. Isn’t that true?”

“Do you have any proof?”

“The bite marks and the curse mark on the deceased’s neck—are you saying they’re not your doing?”

Luo Yang feigned surprise. “How should I know?”

“Then how do you explain the bloodstains in front of the Taoist court? You really force people to become your disciples, and if they refuse, you kill them?”

“Oh, the blood by the court? Who knows? Maybe someone out there doesn’t like me and decided to set me up with some elaborate ruse, making it look like I’m guilty of something when I’m not.” Luo Yang folded his hands behind his back and tilted his head slightly with a smirk. “And since you can accuse me of murder without any proof, can I not accuse you two of the same thing? Maybe you’ve killed someone too, but you were just better at hiding it. Does me saying it with conviction make it true?”

“You…” Chu Hanjin couldn’t hold back his anger.

But Yue Lin stopped him, shaking his head. “Don’t bother. This man’s skin is thick enough that even with evidence, he’d claim it was all a setup. He’d cry innocence no matter what.”

Chu Hanjin chuckled coldly, nodding. “You’re quite the smooth talker.”

Luo Yang bowed slightly. “I’ve long admired Lord Yue Zhao for his elegance and poise, but I’m disappointed to see that he’s so quick to judge.”

Chu Hanjin didn’t respond to his provocation, instead calmly asking, “Do you truly believe you haven’t abused your power, haven’t wronged innocent people, and had nothing to do with Young Master Zhou’s death? Are you unwilling to come with us to the Rongku Sect for questioning?”

Luo Yang sighed deeply. “Naturally, I am clean and innocent.”

“Good.” Chu Hanjin’s voice turned colder. “Then let’s assume, for now, that you didn’t commit murder and had no part in Young Master Zhou’s death. But you’re still coming with us.”

Luo Yang glanced at him, his tone turning dangerous. “Is Lord Yue Zhao resorting to force? I understand your status is high, and if you wish to frame me and my brother, we’re in no position to fight back. After all, how can an egg go against a stone?”

“Not at all.” Chu Hanjin’s palm glowed, a binding chain appearing and rotating gently. “A month ago, during the Six Sects Spring Banquet, Lord Xing nearly lost his life in the Heavenly Burial Pit. Did you know?”

“Of course.”

“I suspect the news hasn’t reached this remote place yet, but the cursed demon that almost killed Lord Xing had the same mark on its neck as the one on Young Master Zhou.”

Luo Yang froze, staring at Chu Hanjin.

Chu Hanjin continued, “Do you understand now why you need to come with us? As a town guard of Fengliu City, you allowed demonic forces to enter your territory, kill your citizens, and you did nothing. Worse, these demons may have used your city as a gateway to infiltrate the Spring Banquet and nearly kill your sect master. What punishment do you think you deserve for such negligence?”

Luo Yang looked utterly stunned, his expression changing rapidly. He glanced toward Chen Yang for confirmation.

His panic was obvious. “That curse… it harmed Lord Xing?”

Chu Hanjin nodded solemnly. “Yes.”

Luo Yang’s expression turned grave, and he finally acknowledged his mistake. “I see… I’ve been negligent… but… but…”

He struggled for a moment before finally clapping his hands as if struck by realization. “I remember now!” His voice grew clearer, more certain. “I’ve seen that curse mark before!”

Chu Hanjin raised an eyebrow. “Strange. I never described what the curse mark looked like. How could you have recognized it?”

Luo Yang’s face turned deathly pale.

It was clear the mention of the curse and its connection to Lord Xing had rattled him, and in his panic, he’d made a fatal slip.

Chu Hanjin had expected Luo Yang to try and deflect or shift the blame, but he had unintentionally revealed too much.

Indeed.

Sweat dripped from Luo Yang’s forehead as he continued to nod, his expression growing increasingly haggard. “Yes, I lied.”

Chu Hanjin watched him silently.

Luo Yang lowered his gaze, thinking for a while before nodding again. “Yes, I killed Young Master Zhou. But I’ve killed so many people that it hardly made a difference to me. That dog dared to covet something that was mine—everyone in Fengliu City knew Xiao Die belonged to me, but he still dared to chase after him. Naturally, I was displeased.”

Chu Hanjin’s tone stretched out. “So it wasn’t your brother who wanted to recruit him for his cultivation?”

“Of course not! I may be a lecher, but my brother is a good man. He only cares about his cultivation and has no interest in such matters. I don’t know why people keep spreading these filthy rumors about him!”

Chu Hanjin exchanged a glance with Yue Lin.

Luo Yang gave a bitter laugh and continued. “Yes, I killed him, but Xiao Die is just as guilty! You wouldn’t believe it, but Xiao Die was with that bastard for over a year. Zhou adored him, treated him like a treasure, and even promised to buy out his freedom. But when he mentioned it to his family, they refused and even broke his legs to stop him from seeing Xiao Die. After that, they arranged a marriage to make sure he gave up hope.”

“And Xiao Die…?”

“That whore, Xiao Die, he’s as heartless as they come. Zhou cared for him, but once he got crippled, Xiao Die started to hate him, calling him worthless. He’d come to me, filling my ears with complaints about Zhou.”

Chu Hanjin prompted. “And so?”

“I may have killed Zhou, but Xiao Die played a part. He lured Zhou in, making him think they could rekindle their relationship. Zhou, that fool, came smiling every day, thinking Xiao Die had forgiven him. But once Zhou was drunk, it wasn’t Xiao Die who accompanied him—it was me. I used him to practice the curse, though it took a while for me to get it right.”

Luo Yang shook his head, sighing. “Who would’ve thought that curse would be tied to Lord Xing?”

Chu Hanjin asked, “Where did you learn it?”

Luo Yang responded, “Just before the Spring Banquet, someone passed through Fengliu City, controlling a puppet. I admired the technique and asked them to teach me, and they agreed.”

“…”

Chu Hanjin said no more.

Yue Lin’s face was equally grim.

They exchanged a look.

Although no words were spoken, a strange understanding passed between them, as though they could read each other’s thoughts.

Yue Lin nodded.

Chu Hanjin calmly said, “Since this is a case of murder out of passion, it seems Xiao Die is also involved.”

Luo Yang’s brow twitched slightly, and he nodded. “If I’m going down, I’m taking that little whore with me. When we face the sect leader, maybe he’ll show mercy.”

The conversation between them was stiff and awkward, like two gears grinding together, each delivering a sentence in turn, as if they were following a script, each statement leading to the next seamlessly.

Chu Hanjin already guessed Luo Yang’s intent. “Then let’s head back. We’ll bring Xiao Die with us to the Rongku Sect.”

Luo Yang seemed in a hurry, nodding. “He’s at the Taoist court. I’ll take you there right away.”

With that, he rushed ahead.

For some reason, Chen Yang, who had remained silent the whole time, turned and gave Luo Yang a strange look, his lips pressed into a thin line, deep in thought.

The four of them—each harboring their own hidden motives—made their way toward the Taoist court.

Chu Hanjin heard a whispered message in his ear. “This is ridiculous.”

Chu Hanjin sighed and nodded.

He hadn’t expected Luo Yang to be so desperate that his lies would become jumbled and contradictory, all in a bid to lure him and Yue Lin to the Taoist court.

But Luo Yang likely hadn’t anticipated that both he and Yue Lin would play along so readily, as if they were naive enough to fall for it.

Their motives were laid bare, their deceptions so clumsy that they barely even tried to hide them.

Once again, Yue Lin’s voice reached him, laced with caution.

“Be careful. There’s something wrong with the Taoist court.”

Chu Hanjin understood.

This “something wrong” wasn’t just an ordinary problem. It was a deadly trap, a dangerous ghost lying in wait. To meet this ghost, Chu Hanjin would have to attend the banquet.

Now Yue Lin and the brothers Chen Yang and Luo Yang were all gambling with their lives, teetering on the edge of life and death.