Chapter 9

Shen Anzhi couldn't suppress his excitement; he lifted his gaze and smiled faintly. With one hand he slung Jiang Yu over his shoulder, gripping the Copper Coin Sword as he tangled with the three-headed bird.
Jiang Yu, hanging upside down over his shoulder, was jostled senseless; the cloud pattern on her skirt kept rubbing against the skin at her waist.
Worse, Shen Anzhi's shoulder pressed against her stomach, turning her insides over. She felt as if someone had shoved her into an alchemy furnace and was roasting her like herbs.
Jiang Yu clutched at Shen Anzhi's back collar in discomfort and gave two petulant pats. "You're digging in, let me down..."
"Senior sister still want to take a swim in the cold pool?" Shen Anzhi teased with a playful smile, fending off the still-wounded three-headed bird with ease, then suddenly eased his grip a little.
"No." Jiang Yu clutched his collar tighter, his earring swinging wildly.
"Don't move. One more move and I'll throw you in." Shen Anzhi widened the distance between himself and the three-headed bird.
Jiang Yu believed he would do it.
Shen Anzhi held his sword; a flash of gold crossed the blade as he sliced off one of the bird's heads, sending a three-foot spray of blood.
Shen Anzhi reversed his hand, tucking Jiang Yu from his shoulder into the crook of his arm as wind howled past her ear. The bloody wind whipped the pale, washed ribbon binding his hair. "Close your eyes."
His warm breath, mixed with the smell of rust, rushed towards her. Before Jiang Yu could speak, Shen Anzhi suddenly embraced her; the Copper Coin Sword behind him wove a net of blades that shredded the pursuing three-headed bird into pulp.
Smelling blood, Jiang Yu instinctively buried her face in his collar. Her hands clenched the dark-gold sash at his waist; the raised carvings pressed into her palms. The scent of soapberry on his robe mixed with the smell of blood and battle, making her dizzy.
As he lowered his head, her butterfly-shaped hair bun rested against his chest. Jiang Yu's scent was like that of a newly ripened peach, also reminiscent of the sweetness of chestnut candy.
The scent wasn't unpleasant.
It calmed his restless, excited heart somewhat.
After some flying, the instant his toe touched the black cliff at the far end of the cold pool, Shen Anzhi abruptly released his strength. Jiang Yu staggered and nearly slammed into the rock, but a long, pale hand seized her sleeve in time, tugging her back and protecting her.
Shen Anzhi's gaze flickered over her pale, still-shaken face, then averted as their eyes almost met.
Jiang Yu steadied herself and, by reflex, turned to thank him. "Thank you," she said.
Shen Anzhi's eyelashes fluttered; he paused. His blood-stained fingertips suddenly crushed the three-headed bird's inner core. The shattered core emitted an eerie red light in his palm, casting an unhideable touch of malice beneath his handsome features.
As the viscous demon blood and fragments slipped through his fingers, he tilted his head and gave an ambiguous, slight smile. The vermillion mole at the corner of his eye glowed in the cold wind; his jet-black pupils churned with a trace of curiosity.
"Senior sister wants to thank me..." he breathed. His bloodied fingertip suddenly brushed her neck. "I'm not worthy of a mere thank you." He straightened.
Jiang Yu toyed with her rosy sleeve with her fingertips and blinked as the words registered.
That sharp tongue, quicker to speak than his brain.
She pretended to turn and look into the distance, but a sudden carpet of pain erupted across her back. She realized then there was a wound on her back, soaked with water; it stung so she let out a low hiss.
Her fingers rummaged through the pouch at her waist and found several bottles of medicine, but she couldn't tell which one was the right treatment...
As he stepped forward to find a temporary place to stay, Shen Anzhi caught a glimpse of her hesitant choice and raised an eyebrow slightly.
Ignoring her widened eyes, he naturally took one of the bottles, uncorked it and tipped out a pill. As she opened her mouth in surprise, his fingertip deftly flicked the pill into her mouth.
Under Jiang Yu’s puzzled stare, Shen Anzhi tossed the small medicine vial back to her.
“Quit dawdling. Let’s go.”
Jiang Yu rotated her shoulder experimentally. The wound no longer ached, her strength was even beginning to return. Lifting the hem of her skirt, she hurried after him. “Coming!”
Dusk sank fast. Heavy clouds pressed low, churning as they rolled over the rooftops.
Jiang Yu tilted her head, checking their direction. Beside her, Shen Anzhi stretched lazily, as if completely unbothered by the incoming storm. He chose a deserted, crumbling temple at random; the moment they stepped inside, the sky split open. Sheets of rain crashed down, dead branches and rotting leaves whirling violently before slamming against the door just as thunder exploded overhead. Damp, cold mist seeped inside, carrying the scent of wet earth and long-forgotten decay.
The last thread of daylight was drowned behind them.
“This rain…” His fingers brushed across the ruined shrine, disturbing a shower of cobwebs. “It really knows how to pick its moment.”
Arms folded, he leaned lazily against a faded wooden pillar. Behind him, Jiang Yu’s footsteps echoed softly. A strand of her hair had caught a cobweb; she brushed it off, then avoided the patches where rain leaked through the roof. Finding two worn but mostly clean meditation mats, she offered one to him.
“Here. Sit and rest.”
Shen Anzhi’s gaze flicked over her hair. He toyed with the copper coin between his fingers and looked away. “No need.”
So she simply set one mat beside him and placed a few spirit fruits on top, then dropped the other onto the dry grass and leaned back against a chipped clay statue, closing her eyes.
Shen Anzhi folded his legs beneath him and, with practiced ease, began stacking wood and kindling. A spark caught. A small fire bloomed. With a flick of his knife, he trimmed several dry branches, then, who knew from where, pulled out a rabbit skewered neatly on a stick and set it to roast over the flames.
Neither of them spoke.
Then the smell hit, rich, smoky, irresistible.
Jiang Yu’s eyes snapped open. Her gaze drifted, again and again, toward him…or rather, toward the rabbit slowly turning in his hands.
Shen Anzhi suddenly allowed a fleeting smile to ghost across his mouth, gone in an instant. He snapped a branch and tossed it into the fire.
“If you have something to say, say it.”
“Does the rabbit taste good?” She really was grasping at anything.
He raised the skewer and deliberately rotated it, letting her see the glistening, perfectly roasted meat. “Does Senior Sister want some?”
Jiang Yu tore her gaze away, muttering, “Not at all.” She dug out a fruit and took a miserable bite.
Shen Anzhi sprinkled on his travel spices with an elegance born of habit. Soon the air was thick with fragrance, so inviting that Jiang Yu found herself propping her chin on her hand, unable to swallow the dull spirit fruit in her mouth.
Logic told her she absolutely should not eat anything Shen Anzhi cooked. Her stomach, however, rumbled violently in protest. Between dying of hunger and dying from suspiciously delicious poison, well, at least one smelled divine.
Another embarrassing growl betrayed her. Shen Anzhi broke off half a rabbit leg with his long, slender fingers. Jiang Yu lunged forward, thrusting a spirit stone toward him.
“I want to trade with Junior Brother!”
He barely spared the stone a glance before handing her the meat. “Deal.”
Jiang Yu accepted the roasted leg with both hands. Swallowing hard, she took a cautious bite. Juice burst across her tongue.
“So good!”
Shen Anzhi tore off a piece for himself, unhurried, placing it lightly on his tongue.
“Senior Sister isn’t afraid I poisoned it?”
Jiang Yu had, in fact, eaten only because they now shared a tacit agreement, he wouldn’t act against her for the moment. But the moment he spoke, her heart jolted anyway. She looked up at him through the firelight, eyes unwavering.
“I trust you.”
His chewing slowed. His lashes lowered, shadowing whatever flickered in his eyes, something complicated, something unreadable.
Her trust…how laughable.
Jiang Yu polished off the bone clean, wiped her fingertips with a handkerchief, and drifted into sleep against the statue.
Shen Anzhi watched her unguarded slumber. Rolling the copper coin between his fingers, he flicked it outward; a barrier settled over the temple.
Only then did he realize how long he’d been staring. He forced his thoughts still and finally closed his eyes.
Just before sleep claimed him, a small red songbird flashed through his dreams…
By the time Shen Anzhi flew them back to the inn, Jiang Yu was half-asleep, stumbling off the coin-sword into the backyard with a long yawn.
Why he’d dragged her back at sunrise, she still had no idea. He’d practically hauled her out of her warm sleep and onto the sword, where she almost dozed off mid-flight.
He leaned in slightly, arms crossed, breath brushing her ear, voice a low murmur.
“Senior Sister, I don’t want anyone else knowing about this.”
Jiang Yu blinked, raised three fingers solemnly. “Relax, Junior Brother. My lips are sealed.”
Satisfied, he straightened, just as a familiar set of footsteps approached.
“You two have finally returned.” Gu Shuyu stood at the turn of the second-floor corridor. She shot Shen Anzhi a mildly reproachful look, though a soft smile touched her snow-cool features. “Was your trip so far?”
“No, Senior Sister.” Shen Anzhi smiled gently, harmless as ever, and slipped upstairs.
Jiang Yu kept her expression pleasant, barely avoiding being caught red-handed. Shen Anzhi’s acting skills were terrifying.
“Senior Sister, I’m exhausted. I’ll go rest first.”
“Junior Sister, your back…” Gu Shuyu’s brows knit as she saw a faint stain of blood seeping through Jiang Yu’s clothes. She followed her up the stairs, pressing a pill into her hand. “Be careful when you’re out.”
Jiang Yu almost broke character. The emotion that pulled at her chest was too real. She quickly accepted the pill and lowered her lashes. “It’s nothing, Senior Sister.”
She shut the door with a soft click, downed the pill with cold tea, and fell asleep almost instantly, waking only when dawn broke again.
Once everyone had washed up and packed, they headed outside the city. Gu Shuyu tapped her white jade bracelet; in an instant, it transformed into a snow-white spirit crane. With a ringing cry, the crane spread its wings and expanded to a size large enough to carry several dozen people.
It was Jiang Yu’s first time seeing such a creature. She watched in wonder as its long neck arched gracefully, waiting patiently for everyone to board before launching into the air.
The journey was long and dull. Jiang Yu sat cross-legged by herself. She hadn’t slept well, her dreams all night were filled with Shen Anzhi chasing her across cliff edges, flipping that copper coin through his fingers.
Ahead of her, the sea of clouds rolled endlessly. Wind lifted Shen Anzhi’s dark robes and tangled his long hair with its faint red strands.
She propped her cheek in her hand, recalling the original novel: around this point in the story, the villainous supporting character, herself, was mostly shown bullying Shen Anzhi with her lackeys. Not much else.
A direct stare cut through her thoughts.
She glanced over, Shen Anzhi had somehow ended up right beside her. Gu Shuyu sat across from them, with Fang Weiyun fanning himself idly at her side.
Just seeing Gu Shuyu and Fang Weiyun together made Jiang Yu want to grin like a fool. She lowered her eyes to hide her smile and looked at him with feigned curiosity.
“Senior Sister, this Senior Brother hasn’t officially introduced himself yet.”
Fang Weiyun snapped open his fan and smiled warmly.
“Forgive the oversight. I am Fang Weiyun, courtesy name Qingyan, chief disciple of Elder Lu of Penglai Pavilion. Sword cultivator.”