Chapter 26

The two of them charged up the steps.
Shen Anzhi still had the leisure to ask the question gnawing at him. “How did Senior Sister know this was the way out?”
“Well…” Jiang Yu’s mind spun as she cobbled an excuse together. “In hidden chambers, the owner usually keeps a secret passage. Either to escape, or to… do things people aren’t supposed to see. So I just guessed.”
Shen Anzhi’s brows lifted slightly, his face unreadable. “Oh? And who set that rule?”
Jiang Yu didn’t dare look back at the paper effigies swarming after them. She was running flat out and gasping for breath, and answered without thinking, “Probably the logic of whoever writes those storybooks.”
A low laugh slipped from him. “I suppose that tracks… you are well-read.”
It sounded like praise. It didn’t sound like praise.
Jiang Yu puffed out her cheeks a little, and her pace, worn thin by exhaustion, began to slacken without her realizing. Shen Anzhi reached back and closed his hand around her pale wrist. “Don’t slow down.” He hauled her the last stretch, bursting out of the end of the passage and shoving aside the curtain of thick vines draped over a heap of rocks.
The cave mouth had been sealed tight, almost seamlessly blended into the jagged mountainside.
Jiang Yu scrambled out from behind the stones, a complete mess. She hadn’t even caught her breath yet before blurting, “Great, we made it out, those paper effigies didn’t follow.” She braced both hands on her knees, panting hard. Every time this body moved too much, she ached from head to toe; her stamina was a joke.
Night wind swept the fallen leaves. Overhead, a shard-thin crescent moon hung silent in the sky.
Shen Anzhi didn’t answer. He only stared straight ahead, lips curving into a faint, meaningful smile.
Their gaze collided with another pair of eyes hiding beneath the shadow of a tree. Those pupils were muddy and bloodshot, yet deep inside them glimmered pinpoints of cold, watchful light.
Shen Anzhi summoned the Copper Coin Sword. “Found you, Senior Zhuge. All the ghosts and tricks in Tianji City… that was you, wasn’t it?” His last word rose lazily at the end.
“So this brat was putting on a show on purpose, to trick me out.” Zhuge Jin stroked his white-streaked temples, tall and spare, surprisingly vigorous for a man of his age.
Thin fingers snapped a slip of paper into the air. It hit the ground and flared into two blazing paper lions, every hair on their bodies rendered so lifelike it was unsettling.
Not quite beast, not quite demon.
“How could it be the junior who’s plotting, clearly it’s Senior who can’t resist murdering witnesses,” Shen Anzhi said lightly, biting down on the last four words with mocking emphasis. A thread of caution crept into his relaxed expression.
Jiang Yu caught his meaning at once. The middle-aged man in grey in front of them was none other than Zhuge Jin, a Golden Core talisman cultivator, the minor villain behind the chaos in Tianji City that the novel had mentioned.
The paper lions lunged. The wild, unrestrained youth met them without a flicker of fear, sword movements turning even sharper and more decisive, carrying a chill lust for blood.
“Most people in the jianghu are blind fools. They underestimate you, and I also underestimated you.” Zhuge Jin’s gaze trembled; flashes of light kept surfacing in his eyes. “When those little demons told me, I didn’t believe it. So the scent was coming from you, boy…”
Shen Anzhi’s sword cut his words in half.
Jiang Yu huddled honestly behind a tree, peeking her head around the trunk. The clash of blade and talisman beast roared back and forth, each exchange as fierce as the last. Even so, scattered lines of their conversation still drifted to her ears.
The scent.
The scent the demons wanted, the scent Zhuge Jin wanted, even that masked stranger was hunting…
The scent of Shen Anzhi’s blood…
She worried whether Shen Anzhi could take him, a vague thought flickering across her consciousness before bursting into a terrifying realization.
What Zhuge Jin meant could only be Shen Anzhi’s unique constitution. The original novel had never said his blood had some kind of special fragrance.
She patted around frantically. Her scorch talismans were all used up, but her storage pouch was still full of precious odds and ends. If it came down to it, she could probably bludgeon Zhuge Jin to death with treasure alone.
But he was cunning. Her palms were damp. Gritting her teeth, she drew a dagger and slashed her own palm. Blood welled up at once, hot and bright; the stab of pain made her clamp her jaw shut on a hiss.
Zhuge Jin caught the freshness of blood in the air and turned his head, eyes fixing on the place where the girl was hiding.
Shen Anzhi’s gaze darkened. His grip on his sword tightened as he pressed in, step by step.
Jiang Yu clutched her hand, sucking in a harsh breath. Sweat beaded across her forehead; her face had gone a few shades paler.
An instant later, her body suddenly felt light, then weightless. The world flipped upside down as her hair swept over her face. Looking down, she saw two claws of congealed black mist clamped around her ankles, hoisting her into the air.
Great. This trick again.
Again?!
Between blood loss and being hung upside-down, her head spun. The scene felt horribly familiar.
Zhuge Jin caught the flicker in Shen Anzhi’s eyes. His brief distraction nearly gave the paper lions an opening to rake claws down his spine.
Agile as only a sword cultivator could be, he twisted out of reach at the last second. Vexing little brat.
Following the girl’s sharp yelp, Zhuge Jin looked up. Fog demons truly did love trinkets and pretty things, and she was a bright-red little beauty dangling right there.
He slanted a look at the youth, lips curling. “Brat, aren’t you going to save the little girl?”
“Do you think I won’t? Why don’t you go die instead,” Shen Anzhi murmured, lashes lowering. A deadly glint flickered across his eyes as he turned that gaze on Zhuge Jin.
Jiang Yu’s fists clenched tighter and tighter; blood ran between her fingers, dripping steadily to the ground. Her knuckles dug into her palm, stabbing so deep it felt like her heart was being pricked as well.
Her voice came out choked. “Shen Anzhi, I talk too much and cling to you all day, you must find me noisy, must find me annoying…”
Her eyes, however, were shining, darting a pointed look at the spot where her storage pouch had fallen, where her spirit flute lay amid the grass.
Shen Anzhi rolled the coins between his fingers. Seeing those blood-stained hands, his heart gave a sudden stab, a flash of anger surging up and dissolving just as quickly.
He caught her signal and let his lips curl.
She really did trust him.
He turned his head toward Zhuge Jin, smile taking on a strange edge. “Senior Zhuge, do you really think…” He deliberately dropped his voice.
Zhuge Jin’s attention slid to the girl’s bleeding palm.
That scent just now seemed to be coming from her. For a moment, he wavered between the youth and the girl.
Shen Anzhi flicked the crimson tassel at his ear, raising a brow in faint displeasure as he looked at Jiang Yu’s reddened eyes. “Senior Sister, I wasn’t talking about you.”
Afraid he’d really let her die, afraid he hadn’t understood her hint, Jiang Yu’s tears surged up again, only to be forced back on sheer stubbornness. “Honestly, Junior Brother, you always stop halfway through your sentences…”
Zhuge Jin watched, half entertained, half perplexed, faintly sensing something was wrong. He couldn’t quite understand why Shen Anzhi was toying with her like this. Still, the boy’s arrogant, wicked air reminded him a little of his own youth.
He was distracted just long enough for something to strike.
His ankle jolted with a sudden, searing pain. A small silver-white snake shot out of the grass, sank its fangs into him, then vanished into the shrubs before he could react.
The poison spread in the space of two breaths. Numbness flooded his limbs; he barely managed to stay upright, staggering and grabbing onto a paper lion’s mane to keep from collapsing.
“You, ”
“Close your eyes,” Shen Anzhi said. His voice wasn’t loud, but Jiang Yu heard every word.
She obeyed immediately, lashes trembling as she squeezed her eyes shut. Her whole body shivered.
The mist demon jerked as Shen Anzhi’s sword stabbed up from below, and the spirit flute he’d snatched up shrieked with a clear, ringing note. Its spiritual pressure twined with sword qi and ripped through the demon’s body. It let out a muffled, wailing sob.
A heartbeat later, the fog demon released her, and Jiang Yu dropped, only for an arm to catch her around the waist.
Warm fingers brushed her eyelids, his breath feathering past her ear as he bent close. His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Open them.”
Jiang Yu’s long lashes fluttered. She opened her eyes just in time to see a demon core explode, brilliant light blooming like fireworks in front of her.
“What did you do? You killed it?” she asked, eyes flicking sideways to the line of his jaw.
“Of course.” Shen Anzhi gave a soft, cold laugh, his tone as relaxed as ever. His gaze had already moved on to Zhuge Jin, limp on the ground, being dragged away on the back of a paper lion.
“Take care now,” he said lightly. “No need to see you off.”
“Vicious little brat,” Zhuge Jin spat. It had been a long time since he’d taken such a blow, especially from someone this young. What frightened him more was how fast the poison had spread. “What kind of poison is this?”
“Just a little… Spring Light Powder.” Shen Anzhi answered with perfect composure, brows lifting.
“Filthy. Filthy!” Zhuge Jin’s face went from green to black. He snapped his sleeves and sent the paper lions surging back into the fight, giving absolutely no quarter.
By the time Shen Anzhi cut them all down, Zhuge Jin was long gone.
Shen Anzhi let his arm drop from around Jiang Yu’s waist, clasped his hands behind his back, and absentmindedly rubbed his fingertips together where they’d felt her.
Jiang Yu tipped her head back to look at him, curiosity bright. “What’s Spring Light Powder?”
He gave a soft snort. “Best if Senior Sister doesn’t ask. Wouldn’t want to dirty those ears.”
“What could I possibly not be allowed to know?” Jiang Yu drew herself up, voice very proper. “I am your senior sister, you know.”
“Heh.” Shen Anzhi’s lashes dropped; he reached out and flicked the thin wings of the butterfly hairpin at her crown. “Senior Sister or not, you’re still younger than I am.”
“My generation is what it is. And you’re only three years older,” she muttered under her breath.
In the original story, Shen Anzhi really had been three years her senior. Even if Gu Shuyu had personally brought him back, by the strict order of seniority in the sect, their rankings still made sense.
Shen Anzhi didn’t bother arguing. It was true, and he had no interest in denying facts.
Jiang Yu made a bold guess, voice dropping. “So… it’s a poison you made yourself?”
“…”
“Okay, okay, not answering me again.”
“A drug that leaves you weak all over and… preoccupied,” he said at last.
Jiang Yu’s pupils contracted. She blinked, and four words marched across her mind in giant letters: truly petty, truly vicious.
Shen Anzhi folded his arms and glanced sidelong at her, utterly unashamed. “Just a special little method, that’s all.”
“And the little snake just now?”
“It’s an artifact I refined myself.”
“Does it have a name?”
“No.”
Jiang Yu rose up on her toes and leaned in. Shen Anzhi’s breath stuttered; he instinctively took half a step back. She carefully studied the ornament hanging from his left ear. “I always thought it was just a pretty accessory. I didn’t expect it to be such a lifesaver at a critical moment. It’s beautiful, Junior Brother not only knows how to sew and embroider, even your artifacts are this delicate and exquisite.”
Compliments spilled from her as smoothly as breathing.
Pinned under the bright clarity of her gaze, Shen Anzhi’s back went a little stiff. He retreated that half step of distance, lashes lowering like black feathers. His throat moved once before he let out a faint cough. “...It’s passable.”
“Why not give it a nice name?” Jiang Yu tilted her head, apricot eyes lighting up. “Fire trees and silver flowers, swift as lightning… how about ‘Silver Blossom’?” Her voice rose at the end, tinged with a hint of smugness.
“Terrible,” Shen Anzhi said, glancing at her.
“All right then,” Jiang Yu drawled lazily, drawing the words out and then letting the topic drop. She blinked once, then fell neatly silent, as if that suggestion had been nothing but a passing whim.
Shen Anzhi’s hand, hidden behind his back rubbing the copper coin, faltered almost imperceptibly. “It’s just a name. Call it whatever you like.”
Jiang Yu’s eyes lit up. “Then it’s settled. Silver Blossom it is.”