Chapter 109: First Meeting in the Rain

The sky gradually brightened, and pedestrians began to increase around the Xiao Yao Cave.

Linghu Qingmo stood at the alley’s entrance, holding an oil-paper umbrella, occasionally turning to gaze into its depths, his eyes shadowed with worry—fearing Xie Jin might be in danger, yet also fearing he might succumb to temptation…

Pfft, pfft, pfft…

Remembering the hungry stares of those five or six men fixed on Xie Jin, Linghu Qingmo couldn’t help lifting Meiqiu by the scruff, his expression stern:

“You were supposed to find bandits—what kind of den did you lead him to? Are you trying to get Xie Jin to take clients?”

“Gukji?”

Meiqiu’s eyes were full of innocence, as if to say—what else was I supposed to do?

Fortunately, the wait wasn’t long before Xie Jin stepped out, frowning.

Linghu Qingmo hurried forward, eyeing him suspiciously:

“You… you’re done?”

“Huh… what?”

Xie Jin blinked, then pinched Meiqiu’s curious little face.

“What do you mean ‘done’? How could I possibly finish that fast, fast, fast~~~”

Zzzzt—

Linghu Qingmo, struck on the cheek, immediately seized his wrist as lightning erupted—but remembering their bet of “Don’t get angry,” he hastily stopped, then instantly regretted it!

Xie Jin paid no mind to Meiqiu’s domestic violence, still holding the umbrella over Meiqiu’s head:

“This is a branch of the Blood Rain Pavilion—information brokers who also take jobs beating up noble brats. Nothing special.”

“The Blood Rain Pavilion dares open a branch in the capital?”

“What’s that? Even the Southern Wilderness Witch Alliance has branches here—just hard to find. Blood Rain Pavilion’s intel is reliable; keep it on standby, might come in handy.”

As Xie Jin spoke, his gaze drifted toward a fur shop in the distance.

But he’d just had them fence stolen goods last night—they’re probably busy. Better return tonight to inquire about Zui Gu Xiang.

The two walked back toward the inner city together. Halfway there, Linghu Qingmo suddenly noticed a crowd gathering by the roadside, gossiping about last night’s strange event:

“Did you hear? The Thief Saint visited Li Gongpu’s mansion last night…”

“The Thief Saint? What did he steal?”

“Hey! Breaking into Li Gongpu’s place to take things? That’s ‘pleading for the people’—how can you call it stealing…”

“Fair enough. So what did he take?”

“You should ask what’s left! I heard the whole mansion was stripped bare—just four walls and a roof remained. Even the maids and concubines were taken. Li Gongpu was so furious he spat blood three pints and fainted on the spot…”

“Beautiful…”

…

Linghu Qingmo slowed his steps, listening closely, eyes wide with astonishment:

“Really? Who’s bold enough to ransack Li Gongpu’s house clean?”

“Gukji~”

Meiqiu felt he had a point—but before he could turn, he was pinned down.

Xie Jin’s expression remained calm as he chuckled lightly:

“Li’s family is rich but cruel. Probably some righteous hero couldn’t stand it and hit them hard.”

Linghu Qingmo remained curious, listened closely, then sniffed:

“Li Gongpu’s a sycophant and a miser—he deserves this. But this Thief Saint sounds impressive. Should we investigate?”

“?”

Xie Jin had no intention of investigating himself. He shook his head:

“It’s a minor case. Focus on the demon bandits first. You didn’t sleep all night—go rest. I’m heading to the East Market. I’ll be back soon.”

“Oh…”

—

Not long after, Wang Fu.

At dawn, autumn rain pattered softly across the vast estate, where countless colorful maids hurried through the corridors, preparing meals for their master.

In the outer courtyard, Liu Qing and Yang Dabiao carried a large iron pot into the cluttered yard, still chatting:

“Old Liu, what’s the Princess up to? Did she bring a pig here to slaughter for celebration? I thought we didn’t even keep pigs…”

“How would I know? Just follow the Princess’s orders…”

…

In the guest courtyard corridor, House Manager Hou stood by Xie Jin’s door, fanning himself, staring at the plaque reading “Upright Gentleman,” his eyes shifty with confusion:

“Big Sparrow, why is my plaque hanging in Xie’s room?”

“Gukji?”

“Not delivered yet? No matter—I’ll take it back myself… hey?”

“Ji ji ji ji…”

Meiqiu, just returned home, saw this shameless thief trying to steal and spread his wings with a “Flying Bird Leg,” chasing Hou all over the place.

The rear courtyard was far quieter.

A few young maids huddled together, whispering gossip about “the lawful wife vs. the concubine”—with Linghu and Lin Da as the protagonists.

Princess Changning, dressed in a golden-threaded silk blouse embroidered with wine gourds, sat drowsily before her mirror as the lively Duo Duo styled her hair, still chattering:

“Xie Young Master is truly His Highness’s pillar. He’s only been in the capital a few days and already making waves—yesterday he helped His Highness win three thousand taels at the Golden Pavilion. We should’ve come with him—we missed so much drama…”

Princess Changning studied her reflection in the mirror, secretly feeling regretful:

“The Empress’s birthday preparations took too long—we arrived late. But Xie Jin hasn’t even shown three percent of his true talent. Once I take him traveling, he’ll have plenty of chances to shine.”

“What other talents does Xie Young Master have?”

“Hmph~”

Princess Changning recalled his wild, flamboyant dance moves—and even the “Great Qian Electric Sound”—and missed that little troublemaker.

As mistress and maid chatted thus, a white shadow entered.

Princess Changning thought it was Xie Jin and turned eagerly—then saw it was her friend, and lost interest:

“Why are you back alone? Where’s Xie Jin?”

Linghu Qingmo dared not admit they’d spent the night together. She replied:

“I was investigating last night. Xie Jin wasn’t with me… uh… seems he went to visit a beauty.”

Princess Changning rose, pulling on her wide-sleeved robe, her gaze tinged with exasperation:

“You followed a man here—and you’re busy investigating cases?”

Linghu Qingmo couldn’t brag about the cheek-pinching, so she frowned slightly:

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“...”

Princess Changning gave up on her workaholic friend and asked:

“Did you investigate Li Gongpu’s case too?”

Linghu Qingmo entered the room, set down her sword, and froze:

“Li Gongpu was really robbed by the Thief Saint?!”

Duo Duo nodded eagerly:

“Absolutely true. The only people I admire more than Xie Young Master are the Thief Saint and his kind.”

“I heard Li’s household claims they lost only two hundred taels—but in truth, every room, even the study and bedroom, was emptied. Now the Crimson Lin Guard, the Bureau of Celestial Observations, and the county office are all laughing. But Li won’t let the government office investigate…”

Linghu Qingmo was genuinely intrigued. She stepped closer to help with the hairpinning:

“If he lost things, why won’t Li let the government office investigate?”

Princess Changning sniffed:

“Li Gongpu isn’t some upright official. If he listed everything stolen, even His Majesty would be shocked. How dare he make a public fuss?”

“True…”

—

Smoke veiled the imperial capital, the vast city rendered in ink-wash by autumn rain.

In the outer city markets, pedestrians moved back and forth, some with umbrellas, others with conical hats—seen from above, they looked like lotus leaves drifting along an ink-painted street.

Xie Jin walked along the street, umbrella in hand, raindrops pattering softly on its surface, his gaze sweeping over the crowds.

Too early—the majority of shops hadn’t opened yet. He’d planned to head straight to the East Market, but near the Fang gate, he noticed a woman standing inside a newly opened shop.

It was a musical instrument shop, filled with qins, se, pipas, and more. A woman in black stood among them, selecting items, wearing a black gauze veil hat and carrying a sword on her back.

From afar, she resembled the typical female martial artist—but her aura seemed like a celestial being fallen to earth, yet somehow isolated from the mortal world by some unseen barrier.

Hmm… a woman with a very peculiar aura…

Xie Jin glanced at her unconsciously, sensing something unusual about the black-clad woman, yet unable to pinpoint what.

Meanwhile, his ghostly bride, ever at his side, whispered in his ear:

“This female martial artist isn’t ordinary. She carries a high-grade artifact that blocks spiritual detection—can’t see inside.”

“Oh?”

This was the first time Xie Jin’s ghostly bride couldn’t see through someone. He asked:

“Very powerful?”

Ye Hongshang couldn’t probe her inner state, but she could still observe external details—her aura, the flow of surrounding spiritual energy—

“His cultivation should be just a bit higher than yours, not yet reached the Supergrade Phenomenon. Tall with a big rear—clearly good for bearing children. Dare you go strike up a conversation?”

“?”

Xie Jin hadn’t planned to, but Meiqiu questioned his courage—how could he tolerate that?

Yang’s Herbal Shop wasn’t open yet; studying this female hero’s background wouldn’t delay anything. Xie Jin thought it over, turned, and walked to the outside of the musical instrument shop, folding his oilpaper umbrella.

The shopkeeper was an old man, wearing reading glasses, seated behind the counter repairing a qin with tools.

Judging by the merchandise displayed, everything inside was high-quality, but the shopkeeper’s hospitality was decidedly rude—he muttered when he saw Xie Jin enter with his weapon:

“Early morning, and all the customers are martial artists? We don’t sell magic treasures.”

“Heh, I’m just browsing.”

Xie Jin paid no mind to the old shopkeeper’s attitude. He stepped beside the black-clad female hero—and was startled to find she was nearly his own height, her figure like a supermodel: not thin or frail, but tall, full-figured, with curves that looked like they’d drain oil…

Though strangers, Xie Jin hadn’t noticed her figure before; he first examined the instruments himself, then his gaze settled on the seven-string qin she was studying:

“This qin is excellent—made from tong wood from Fengzhou. The climate there is dry, so the timber makes for a sound that’s quiet as a spring trickle, yet thunderous when played…”

He pressed his fingers to the strings and plucked lightly with his right hand.

Cheng weng weng~~~

A deep, melancholy melody echoed through the instrument shop.

The old shopkeeper, hearing the sound, lifted his reading glasses, eyes surprised:

“‘Solitary Mountain Asking the Moon’—didn’t expect you to be a connoisseur, young master.”

“Just a little knowledge—not a true expert.”

Xie Jin smiled modestly and turned to the black-clad woman beside him, ready to chat.

But the veiled woman remained icy—she didn’t even look at him, walking to the other side of the shop to inspect other instruments.

“...”

Xie Jin had never been ignored by a girl before; a flicker of embarrassment stirred in his chest.

The old shopkeeper shook his head with a smile and bent back to repairing the strings…

(End of Chapter)