Chapter 691: Who Is Reciting Poetry? (One More Chapter—Will Be Late, Check Tomorrow)

The wind gently brushed the bamboo leaves, stirring a rustling sound like rolling waves.

Facing the setting sun, the group arrived at Eternity Pavilion, their hair and robes still dusted with the white cherry petals unique to the path leading up to the Hakurei Shrine.

“You don’t need to treat me this specially,” Meng Qi said, gritting his teeth against the ache in his feet. “I’d have walked back slowly on my own.”

“We’re brothers—don’t be so formal,” Xiao Yan laughed heartily.

Actually, Meng Qi really wanted to say the truth: if he walked alone, he could ride the blue ox when tired, but since everyone was walking, he had to walk too.

Gensokyo wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t tiny either; returning on foot without flying was tiring for the feet.

“Occasionally walking like this with a group isn’t bad,” Ye Fan said, his mood still fairly good. “It reminds me of my school days.”

“That’s true,” Meng Qi replied, glancing back at the sinking sun and chuckling. “After-dinner stroll on the pavement.”

This short stretch of road meant nothing compared to the distance between universes.

Having grown accustomed to the conveniences of transcendence, having spent too long in the clouds, having rushed through the martial world with swift action—he’d forgotten that memories of strolling with friends through beautiful mountains and forests were far more precious.

None of them spoke of cultivation or supernatural feats; they only discussed wedding arrangements.

Ordinary. Plain.

“Gensokyo’s daily life is like this, but after a while, it gets boring—that’s why we need disturbances to liven things up.”

Kaguya smiled brightly and explained, “But the winter city inspectors have morning grumpiness—if you cause too much chaos, the Hakurei Fist will give you a lesson.”

“Tragic—you’ve even figured out their temper,” Su Lin said, shaking his head slowly with sympathy.

One by one, the group entered Eternity Pavilion, and just then, the sun dipped below the horizon; the mansion, enchanted with the spell of eternity, vanished once more from Gensokyo’s history.

“Do you want to play games?” Kleine asked.

Huai Shi: “Still have bricks to move.”

He had to edit videos.

Today he recorded several pieces of him playing the cello performing Touhou doujin music—perfect for uploading to the Multiverse Knowledge Platform.

“There’s a class tonight.”

Zhongli and Yan Sen would return to teach their disciples; Ye Fan and Shi Hao would continue soaking in the Life Spring; Lu Mingfei would take Himeari, who refused to let go of Xiao Yuan, for a walk.

The rest of the night would be private time—thankfully, Eternity Pavilion had enough rooms to accommodate so many people.

“Your Majesty,” Yagami Eirin called out to Su Lin.

As if flipping a switch, Su Lin’s hollow, lifeless eyes instantly turned icy, his aura becoming ethereal and otherworldly.

He turned his head, his straightened spine and broad shoulders relaxing again: “Honestly, I’m about to have a work-related stress episode. Can you not call me that?”

In a setting where no external hierarchy or formal etiquette needed to be maintained, such titles held no practical meaning.

“Mr. Su,” Yagami Eirin smiled. “Could you come with me?”

She turned and walked down the corridor toward the clinic labeled “Penglai Pharmacy,” her gaze brushing over Meng Qi without notice.

“Do your best—maybe Eirin will agree to our deal,” Kaguya clenched her fist in encouragement. “Oh, I mean Penglai Medicine.”

“I know you mean Penglai Medicine,” Su Lin said, shrugging as if it were routine.

The translucent shoji paper allowed light to spill into the corridor, where rabbit yōkai scurried about lighting lanterns—like fish caught slacking off, scrambling to fix things after the boss returned.

Eirin opened the door, sat down in her chair, and sighed. “Did the princess dig up some lost gods from somewhere?”

“Not my problem,” Su Lin said, pointing his thumb outside. “Only the Three Pure Ones are locals here.”

“The world was originally a chaotic mess of myriad things,” Eirin said, leaning back in her chair and staring at the ceiling.

“The One became Three; the rainbow of all phenomena brought Seven; ten foundational pillars constructed the framework of cosmic order.”

“Later, the ancient gods assigned ‘names’ to all things within this framework, making cognition possible—in other words, this act of naming is what we call ‘creation.’”

“Now it seems both Three and Seven are inside Eternity Pavilion—this is likely why the Youkai Sage changed her attitude and began scheming.”

She rubbed her temples, pulled open a drawer, and took out a consultation form; after a brief pause, she picked up a pen.

“It may involve privacy, but could you tell me how this injury occurred?”

“I burned myself to save a world on the verge of destruction.”

“Ah… then I apologize deeply.”

Yagami Eirin’s tone grew respectful.

“It’s nothing—I was the one who burned.”

“?”

After giving the stunned Eirin a brief explanation, Su Lin summoned his Skyward Manifestation for her to collect data.

“I can’t be certain I can make a medicine to heal you.”

“It’s fine—doctor, you’ve done your best.”

Su Lin exchanged a few words with Eirin, then smiled and opened the door to leave the clinic—only to freeze mid-step. “Inaba?”

The rabbit-eared girl’s eyes widened; the next second, both their figures vanished, replaced by the rapid patter of footsteps down the corridor.

“Why are you chasing me?!”

“Come see a treasure I found!”

A voice seemed to echo from afar.

Inside the clinic, Yagami Eirin sighed again and turned her chair to face behind her.

“Eirin, sighing too often makes you age faster,” Kaguya teased.

“I just saw your reflection in that man—it’s an instinctive reaction,” Eirin said helplessly. “That reckless, whimsical look, searching for the joy of being alive—it’s exactly how you looked back in the Moon Capital.”

Kaguya smiled faintly. “Are you complaining about how I’ve treated you all these years?”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Though it sounded like blame and apology, there was no discord between them.

“Princess, you don’t share the same thoughts as that Fate, do you?”

“You mean Zhao Shuang?”

【At first I didn’t realize it was a blind date—Li Huowang just asked me over. But later I thought, if the partner were Dr. Su, my future research would be much easier. Besides, he saved my life. From a companion’s perspective, he’s a good choice.

Provided he has romantic feelings for me.

That lady with the gray hair? You mean Dr. Su having three wives and four concubines isn’t normal?】

Eirin repeated Zhao Shuang’s exact words.

“Uh…” Kaguya’s lips twitched.

No wonder Eirin had stared at them so strangely when she saw them standing together at the Hakurei Shrine.

“But why did you bring me into this?”

“.”

Only Eirin’s silent gaze answered Kaguya.

Well, maybe I’ve gone a bit too far lately—but there’s a reason.

“To fully draw out his true nature, I carefully guided him step by step, spending a long time cultivating him. After emerging from eternity, he lived up to expectations and became even more interesting.”

“But then Ilina snatched him away—and he’s reverted a bit.”

Kaguya clenched her right fist, her tone shifting. “I’m a bit resentful. Eirin, why not make something like amnesia water?”

Another sigh.

“Eirin, you know I’m joking, right?”

The sigh continued.

“I’m vile, but not that vile.”

This time, no reaction at all—Eirin picked up the consultation form and began studying it.

“Eirin…”

“Speak.”

“I just wanted her to lend me some luck—why run off so fast?”

Feeling unlucky, Su Lin tried to boost his fortune—but Inaba’s escape speed was simply too fast.

He dropped the carrot he’d been holding for feeding, then entered the room where Kaguya kept her collections and treasures. Shi Hao and Ye Fan still soaked in the endlessly gushing Life Spring, while Meng Qi was in the small courtyard trying to feed the horned blue ox.

“Don’t be picky—eat some dietary fiber.”

So the one leading the ox isn’t necessarily the Cowherd—it could be the Three Pure Ones.

The one bathing nearby isn’t necessarily the Weaver Girl—it could be some Heavenly Emperor.

Dammit, my childhood feels contaminated.

“Something’s off,” Meng Qi said.

Su Lin glanced toward the corner and saw Xing sitting cross-legged, occasionally scratching his head, then quickly falling still again.

No gaming, no scavenging, no wriggling like a worm wrapped in a blanket—definitely unusual.

Su Lin walked over. “Wai bi wai bi?”

Xing opened his eyes. “Wai bi ba bu.”

“Are you good, Malaysia?” Su Lin spread his hands.

Xing shook his head and pulled out a bamboo slip pitifully.

Su Lin pointed at the two soaking in the spring. “Why not ask them?”

“Oh.” Xing nodded in realization and stood up, walking toward the two meditating figures.

“She just encountered some parts of her cultivation she didn’t understand,” Su Lin said.

“Never mind what your team’s secret code is,” Meng Qi pointed to the sky. “I’m talking about this—something’s wrong.”

In the sky, crimson mist spread like a woven net, swallowing the night. Within the mist glowed a deep crimson light, darker than blood.

Su Lin frowned in surprise: “What’s going on?”

“It’s an anomaly—red mist has emerged from the Red Magic House,” Reisen said, entering with a bow. “Guests, do not worry; as long as you remain inside Eternity Pavilion, you are perfectly safe.”

Thud!

One room door after another swung open.

Kleine, wearing a top hat, stepped out with the Sword of Virtue; Huai Shi followed, gripping the same blade; Lu Mingfei, loading his revolver, came next.

“Wait—where are you all going?”

“Anomalies are the specialty of Gensokyo—must be tried.”

Lu Mingfei stood before Eri, offering the smile of a mature man.

“Didn’t this red mist anomaly already happen before?” Song Shu found it odd.

In his room, the squirrel Sandy had arranged around her: “Confucian Cultivation Method,” “Buddhist Cultivation Method,” “Thirty-Three Beasts Primordial Qi Technique,” “Sword of Shattered Tyranny,” and other items—as if choosing her future path by drawing lots.

“This symbolizes the end of the past, the beginning of a new cycle—the return of the first red mist anomaly. Gensokyo shall open a new chapter in its history,” Kleine declared solemnly.

“This line is used only in the opening of ‘Touhou Red Magic House 2.0.’ Any resemblance is purely coincidental.”

You might as well just shut up—you don’t need to stack your own buffs.

“It wouldn’t hurt to step out as the main character,” Kaguya said, poking her head out from behind the door to Su Lin. “If that little vampire loses, turn the Red Magic House into a hentai according to the defeat scenario.”

“Don’t make me eat the smallest bullet.”

Still, another red mist anomaly at this moment is rather strange.

Su Lin remembered yesterday’s dream—something inside him activated like a radar.

Xing woke Shi Hao and handed him a bamboo slip: “I’m going to cultivate—I won’t go.”

“I won’t go either—I have lessons for my disciples later.” Su Lin walked toward the gate opened by the Cross-Dimensional Talisman.

Coach, there’s an anomaly here too.

Lu Mingfei and the others stared, their eyes darting between Su Lin and Xing.

Just as Su Lin was about to step into the room, Kleine suddenly spoke: “Could this anomaly have something to do with you?”

In the blink of an eye, Su Lin seized Kleine by the collar and snarled:

“How dare you slander my reputation?!”

Kleine stared at Su Lin without expression, while Meng Qi had already unfastened the Golden Cord from his pant pocket.

‘When did he set this up…’ Lu Mingfei wasn’t surprised—Su Lin causing chaos wherever he went was normal; what he didn’t know was when exactly the chaos had been planted.

He suddenly felt someone tugging his sleeve.

He turned—Eri, dressed as a shrine maiden, stood there.

“Is everything alright?” Eri pointed at Su Lin, bound and dragged away.

“Perfectly fine—leave it to me.”

Lu Mingfei smiled confidently, thinking: Those two arrogant bastards—one crippled, one useless—finally it’s my turn to shine.

The group leapt out, racing to resolve the anomaly before the Reimu Shrine Maiden could intervene.

“This technique…” Shi Hao retracted his spiritual sense, stunned: “Where did you get this?”

“Qiong gave it to me,” Xing said.

Shi Hao passed the technique to Ye Fan, who scanned it with his spiritual sense—his eyelids twitched violently before he fell silent.

“You might…” Ye Fan whispered:

“Go beg him again—see how much more he’s hiding?”

“Like…”

He hesitated, then winked at Xing.

“Dress myself up as a trash bin?” Xing mused.

Not necessary.

“How do you cultivate this?” Xing asked.

“Don’t rush,” Shi Hao grinned: “Wait until I’ve integrated it into my newly forged Dao…”

“Perhaps this method can expand into 365 foundational Great Dao pillars!”

…

A searing red light tore through, converging into a beam that shook heaven and earth, vaporizing all moisture, and slammed Lu Mingfei—still at its peak—into a crater formed by shattered mountains.

“Why wasn’t it a spell card?”

Lu Mingfei lay sprawled in a star shape, eyes vacant.

“Don’t cause more chaos—I have to maintain the barrier to prevent greater damage,” Reimu muttered, face pressed into the dirt.

She quietly lifted her head, gazing at the towering figure above, wings of bat flesh spread, arrogant and unchallenged.

“What’s gotten into that little vampire today?”

A gale howled; red mist coiled into clouds, thunder rumbling faintly.

In everyone’s eyes, an endless sea of blood spread—while the small child with curly hair and a white lace-trimmed hat sat upon a crimson throne, looking down upon all things with supreme disdain.

“Cut the Dao—face me! Crimson Moon Catastrophe!”

A blood-red moon descended; red light radiated in all directions—up, down, left, right—the heavens and earth transformed, and the aura of the martial Dao surged forth.

“This is…”

Rimi’s crown chakra point opened; crimson clouds burst forth, draping her in hazy bloodlight: “My Undying Crimson Demon Body!”

Su Lin, tied to the ox’s back, glanced behind at Meng Qi, who had silently crept up—ignored the finger-to-lips gesture, and kicked out with his right leg.

“It’s not my fault!”

Meng Qi’s hands were cuffed by Kleine’s sudden grab.

“You have the right to remain silent,” Kleine said.

“I told you—you misunderstood me,” Su Lin sighed.

“If it were you, the figure above should be an unspeakable angel,” Kleine released Su Lin’s bonds. “My apologies, Mr. Su Lin—but this proves my intuition isn’t always right.”

“Heh…” Su Lin kept his face frozen in a forced smile.

“Rimi, what are you doing?!” Marisa, riding her broom like a meteor, fled desperately through the crimson light.

Boom!

Starlight shattered, crimson radiance surged—while blood-red lightning crackled, a solemn verse rang out.

“The Red Magic House is never satisfied; Heaven cannot hold the truth; Hell cannot restrain arrogance; Mortal world cannot quell humility.”

Rimi unfolded a reverse crucible array, shifting space and time, seizing Marisa’s throat with fangs bared: “The Holy Realm was born from me.”

Lu Mingfei pointed at Su Lin and roared: “Grab that guy!”

“What’s it got to do with me?!”

“You’re the only one reciting poetry in the group!”