Chapter 2

Once the system finished transmitting the plot, it conveniently disappeared. Shen Qing summoned her maid back to redo her hairstyle.
By her calculations, there were two months left before disaster struck the Shen household. She remembered well: in her last life, a demon outbreak ravaged the East Market. Liu Jiyue had arrived early and fought the beast for a long time before finally subduing it.
No one had expected the truth: the demons were a pair, male and female.
The male attacked the East Market.
The female attacked the Shen estate.
Liu Jiyue guarded the East Market.
No one guarded the Shen residence.
When danger came, Shen Qing’s mother forced a bowl of drugged wine down her throat and hid her in the cellar. Her parents stayed aboveground to buy time.
The drug had been hastily administered, her limbs were weak, but her mind remained clear. She watched as her parents were ripped open by the demon, dying gruesomely before her eyes.
Blood misted the air. Smoke curled upward. Her father’s blood seeped through the wooden planks, dripping into Shen Qing’s widened eyes. Her world turned hot, metallic, red with grief and rage.
Her breathing grew thick with hatred.
Sensing her tremor, a soft, pudgy hand touched her cheek. Cuizhi, the little maid fixing her hair, asked, “Young miss, are you cold?” She blinked. “But that can’t be right… it’s early summer, quite warm…”
Then her eyes flew wide. “Miss, are you falling sick again?!”
Snapped from her thoughts, Shen Qing caught the girl’s wrist. “No. Keep combing.”
Cuizhi hesitated. “O-Oh…”
It wasn’t the maid’s fault. Shen Qing had been sickly since birth and practically raised in medicinal baths. Falling ill was as common to her as meals.
Staring into the mirror at her exquisite brows and eyes, Shen Qing fell into contemplation.
In her previous life, the male demon attacked before the female did. This time would surely be the same. Even if she tried to keep Liu Jiyue at the Shen estate, his sense of duty, and the early warning, would send him to the East Market.
Last time, he spent nearly the whole day subduing one demon and was gravely injured. When he arrived at the Shen estate to fight the second demon, he was exhausted, and the female demon escaped. Shen Qing searched for years but never found it to avenge her parents.
Even Xuanji Pavilion’s top disciple struggled immensely with one of the pair, what more the others?
No help would come. Her senior brother could not be in two places at once. Shen Qing’s own talent was mediocre; she was no match for such a demon.
So she thought of one person: Li Daoxuan.
A fourth prince by birth, Li Daoxuan had apprenticed under the abbot You Daozi of Dongshan Temple since childhood. At twelve, he left to travel the world; at fifteen, he was granted the title of Prince of Cang upon returning to Chang’an. In three years, he subdued countless demons, his true strength unknown.
In her past life, though Liu Jiyue resolved most dangers faced by the group, Li Daoxuan, sword in hand, coldly observing, always intervened when Liu Jiyue was overwhelmed protecting others. Judging by how effortlessly he dispatched demons, his power was unquestionably formidable.
Soon enough, Cuizhi finished arranging a Changle-style bun. Shen Qing examined it, then said, “Bring my magnolia hairpin.”
The pink-and-white jade hairpin slid into her hair. With a soft tilt of her head, the amethyst bells dangling from the carved petals chimed lightly. The girl in the mirror smiled, her brows curving with satisfaction.
“Cuizhi,” Shen Qing said, rising, “prepare the carriage.”
“Yes, miss.”
Once the girl left, Shen Qing touched the purple crystal bells and asked the mirror,
“Do you know where he is?”
The room remained silent. The girl before the mirror frowned, clearly hearing an unsatisfactory response from 001.
“If you’re the one telling me to ‘conquer’ him,” she snapped, “yet you can’t even tell me where he is, what use is a useless thing like you?”
For the first time in its existence, 001 felt truly scolded. Confused, it thought sadly:
Maybe… maybe I really am useless?
The carriage ready, Cuizhi asked, “Miss, where are we going?”
Shen Qing stood gracefully. “To the East Market. It’s been too long since I’ve had the soft flour motuo from Youjian Restaurant.”
Cuizhi gasped. “Miss, it’s already late! If we go to the East Market and back, it’ll be dark. The master and madam will worry. If you really want some, why don’t I send someone to buy it?”
Shen Qing refused. “By the time they bring it back, it won’t be fresh. I want it fresh.”
Before Cuizhi could protest further, Shen Qing cut her off. “If you keep nagging, it really will be dark by the time we return.”
Cuizhi sighed helplessly.
The East Market was at its liveliest, crowded streets, hawkers calling out, children laughing. Shen Qing’s carriage pulled up before Youjian Restaurant. She entered with a small entourage, and the server eagerly led them to a private room.
On the second floor next door, a few young nobles sat drinking. When Shen Qing stepped inside, one of them remarked:
“Well now, who is that little lady? Such beauty. I’ve never heard of a girl this lovely in all of Chang’an.”
His tone held no vulgarity, only pure appreciation and curiosity.
His companion chimed in, “I know her! She’s the daughter of General Shen, the Shen family’s young miss! The child was so frail at birth that doctors said she wouldn’t live past five. The Emperor, moved by the General’s loyalty and the fact he had only this one daughter, decreed she be raised under Master Qianji of Xuanji Pavilion.”
“And look at that, they really have skills. After a few years at Xuanji Pavilion, the little lady not only recovered but now runs and jumps like any healthy child.”
To protect her health, General Shen and his wife had reluctantly sent their daughter to Xuanji Pavilion every spring and autumn, only letting her stay home during winter and summer.
Shen Qing, with no great upheavals, lived safely to the age of seventeen.
One of the young men at the table chuckled. “When you put it that way, it is quite the coincidence. The Shen family’s young miss is a Daoist nun, and our A-Man here is also a Daoist priest.” He hooked an arm around the red-robed youth’s shoulders and grinned. “Seems the Shen girl and our A-Man are tied by fate. You’re about the same age too. A-Man, have a proper look, do you like what you see?”
The boy in crimson, his companion’s arm draped casually over him, downed the last of his wine, fingers rolling the cup between them. Then his lashes lifted, and his gaze drifted lazily through the railing to the floor below.
The girl in a pink-and-white, high-waisted ruqun walked lightly toward a private room. Each step set her skirts rippling like layers of waves, embroidered magnolia blossoms at the hem dancing with every sway.
A water-blue shawl hung over her arm, fluttering behind her like cloud and mist.
As if sensing his eyes, Shen Qing suddenly turned and glanced up at him.
She was not the least bit cowed by his gaze, her eyes clear and steady as they met his.
Li Daoxuan lowered his lashes and took another drink. Just then, a black snake slipped out from his shoulder, craning its head to stare fixedly at the girl below.
When he looked again, Shen Qing had already turned away, chatting and laughing with her maid. Whatever they were discussing made her round eyes curve with delight, stars seeming to ripple in their watery brightness.
The boys around him went momentarily slack-jawed.
Only Li Daoxuan looked away without the slightest interest. His lips curled faintly.
“Beneath the flesh, it’s all just bone,” he said softly. “This priest has no interest in common mortals.”
His companion bristled. “You’re the only lofty one then, and we’re all vulgar?” Puffing up in indignation, he even started in on a ridiculous joke. “I wouldn’t be so sure. What if that Shen girl is precisely the one destined to restrain you? Just you wait.”
Another chimed in, laughing, “Exactly! Just look at how open and composed she is, nothing like those other girls. I say even if A-Man claims he doesn’t like her now, he’ll probably end up chasing after her with everything he’s got.”
Li Daoxuan couldn’t be bothered to respond. But when he noticed the black snake on his shoulder still staring at her, he grew annoyed and smacked it back into place with one hand. After that, he simply rolled his cup between his fingers, head bowed, saying nothing.
He wore fingerless black leather gloves. The fingertips that showed beneath were pale and smooth, the knuckles refined like jade. As the cup spun faster and faster, its dark-blue glaze knocked softly against his white fingertips, staining them with a faint flush of pink.
Shen Qing brought only Cuizhi with her into the private room, leaving the other servants downstairs in the main hall.
She ordered several dishes. Halfway through the meal, she suddenly remembered the sesame flatcakes sold by a vendor on the next street. Her eyes curved as she smiled at Cuizhi.
A moment later, the maid left, and Shen Qing was alone. She picked up a thin ice-silk handkerchief and dabbed her lips, unhurried, then rose and walked toward the back door of the private room.
She remembered: during this time, Chang’an was plagued by minor demon trouble. Among them, there was one particularly flamboyant creature that adored pretty jewelry.
Shen Qing lightly touched the magnolia hairpin in her hair and sauntered into the corridor.
Sure enough, just as she’d predicted, after she wandered around for a bit, a shadow ahead fixed its gaze on the hairpin atop her head and slowly drew closer.
Shen Qing acted as though she noticed nothing at all and simply kept walking.
On the second floor of Youjian Restaurant, aside from a few tables near the railing where patrons drank, the rest of the inner area was filled with guest rooms, housing travelers of all kinds passing through Chang’an.
The hall below boiled with noise and laughter. No one knew that the group of youths who’d been drinking earlier had already scattered, some to the gambling den next door, some back down to the main hall to quietly inspect the patrons one by one. Only Li Daoxuan and another companion remained on the second floor.
Inside one room, a smoke-like shadow streaked wildly around, moving so fast it made the eyes ache. The blue-robed youth slashed desperately with his sword, but he never managed to catch the tail of the black smoke, and nearly got himself injured more than once.
Then a long sword whistled through the air, cutting straight through the smoky body and pinning it to the wall.
The black smoke thrashed, emitting a shrill, piercing screech.
The companion clapped his hands over his ears, unable to bear the sound. Li Daoxuan, by contrast, stood there like nothing was happening, hand resting lightly on his sword sheath, gaze cold.
His long black hair was bound high with a red cord, making his figure seem even taller, straight as a pine.
He flicked a talisman from his fingers; it turned into a streak of dark smoke that slipped out the window. “It just split off a clone to escape,” he said. “You go after it. I’ll deal with this.”
The other youth’s eyes darted to the window. Sure enough, a faint wisp of black smoke was seeping out. He shouted, “Monster, where do you think you’re going!” and flipped out the window in pursuit.
Now the room held only Li Daoxuan.
The shift in him was instantaneous. All his earlier laziness vanished, replaced by a suffocating ferocity.
His peach-blossom eyes narrowed. One hand twisted the sword buried in the wall as he interrogated,
“You’re one of the things that escaped Ghost City? Which exit did you come through? Speak.”
He had clearly sensed the unique murderous aura of Ghost City on its body.
The turning blade made the creature writhe, as though in tremendous pain. It wailed, “No, no! I didn’t! How could I possibly have the power to break that barrier? I’m one of the demons that escaped more than ten years ago! Once the barrier was sealed, nothing else got out!”
It had nearly torn itself apart forcing its way through. It spent years trembling in hiding, slowly nursing its broken form back into a solid shape. Today, it had just managed to devour a child to nourish itself, its injuries still far from healed, only to be caught by this group of bratty Daoists.
Hearing that the Ghost City barrier remained intact, Li Daoxuan’s head cleared a little. His eyes were still thick with shadow, emotions unreadable.
He pulled the sword free. The black smoke slid down the wall.
Thinking the youth had suddenly gone soft-hearted and decided to spare it, the creature immediately tried to flee, only for,
“Ahhh!”
Li Daoxuan flicked his wrist. A yellow talisman flew out and slapped onto the smoky body. It erupted into flame without wind.
The black smoke burned with the talisman, dissolving into nothing.
He hadn’t yet returned his sword to its sheath when the door crashed open.
“Give me back my hairpin!” a girl’s indignant, slightly spoiled voice cried out.
In the next instant, the blade swept sideways, cold and sharp against her throat.
Shen Qing snapped her mouth shut, staring up at him as if truly frightened.
Meeting again, already, were they?
He pressed his thin lips together, eyes full of irritation at being disturbed. “There’s a barrier in the corridor. How did you get here?”
It took the girl a moment to find her voice. “I, I don’t know. A demon stole my hairpin. I was chasing it when I ended up here.”
She glanced around the room, not seeing any familiar face, and her expression shifted from fear to anxious distress. “I clearly saw him run in here. My hairpin…”
Li Daoxuan’s eyes were cold. His hand tightened, pressing the sword a fraction deeper. Shen Qing felt the faint sting at her neck and the warm trickle of blood sliding down her skin.
“Lying,” he said flatly.