Chapter 5: There

The moon hung above the branches, outside the Dan Wang’s mansion.

The Dan Wang was the emperor’s identical twin brother, their bond close and his status exalted; his fief of ten Battalion Commander ranked first among all princes, and he also served as Governor of Danzhou, wielding military and administrative authority over the entire province.

Government offices—the county government office, the palace guard, the Dan Yang Academy—were all clustered around the mansion.

As night deepened, Dan Yang City became an endless sea of lanterns, with towering buildings lining both banks of the inner river.

Xie Jinhuan sat alone on the rooftop by the river, his back to the bright moon; below, in the tavern, a storyteller was recounting strange tales and ancient lore:

“The Lady of Nangong is the foremost beauty of the Daoist sects. A poem says: ‘Jade skin, ice bones, born from the Jade Terrace, her national beauty and peerless talent—she is the handiwork of heaven’s brush, such a flower could never bloom in mortal realms…’

How could a witch compare to such a flower of earthly splendor? Overcome with shame and envy, she cast a “love worm” upon the Lady of Nangong…

The tale concerned Nan Gong Ye, the current Sect Master of Zi Hui Mountain.

Zi Hui Mountain’s headquarters lay just beyond Dan Yang City, its lineage spanning over six hundred years—among the elite sects of Da Qian, and its former Sect Master was Zhen Ren Xi Xia.

Nan Gong Ye was Xi Xia’s disciple, not only profound in Daoist arts but unmatched in swordplay throughout Danzhou—once Xie Jinhuan’s childhood dream bride.

But now, Xie Jinhuan had no leisure to dwell on such thoughts.

He had just received word of his father’s death in the line of duty—an unmistakable tragedy. He refused to believe the old man was truly gone; this matter demanded investigation.

But plainly, he could not leave now.

Worse, the imperial court had noticed the demonic aura emanating from Zi Hui Mountain. He had been fully involved—and yet he had blacked out. If discovered, he would have no defense; his life might end here.

Xie Jinhuan was still legally innocent. If he vanished, he would become the prime suspect—and drag Yang Dabiao, who had bailed him out, into peril. Despite the risk, he had no choice but to stay in Dan Yang.

Meiqiu, having eaten her fill, was lively again, crouched on the rooftop gazing at distant fireworks, tugging fiercely at Xie Jinhuan’s sleeve—clearly urging him to take her out for a stroll.

But Xie Jinhuan had promised to stay near Yang Dabiao. Upon discovering the inn prices around the mansion were absurdly high, he’d hired a broker to rent a single room on short notice—and was now waiting for a reply.

As he quietly observed, the broker had not returned, but Xie Jinhuan spotted a large group of young men and women in blue robes emerging from Wen Cheng Street, all carrying medicine chests and book satchels, many accompanied by lavish carriages—they were clearly students of the Dan Yang Academy dispersing after class.

The Dan Yang Academy was a national university, second only to the Imperial Academy in Luo Jing, housing three colleges: ‘Chong Wen, Wu Bei, Dan Yi’—roughly equivalent to ‘Liberal Arts, STEM, and Medicine.’

Xie Jinhuan had once studied everything, even dreaming of becoming campus heartthrob at this elite academy—but alas, he had not yet reached enrollment age when his father was transferred to Lingnan.

Now, seeing the students, he glanced curiously—but before long, he noticed Meiqiu, who had been shaking her head, suddenly tilting hers toward Zheng Lun Sword:

“Gū jī?”

Xie Jinhuan thought a tiny insect had crawled onto Zheng Lun Sword, but upon lifting it for inspection, found nothing amiss—yet suddenly, a horse’s piercing neigh erupted from below:

“Sssss—”

Clip-clop, clip-clop…

…

—

Along the riverside street, lanterns blazed as bright as day; countless students poured out of Wen Cheng Street, dispersing into surrounding alleys.

Among them, a carriage bearing a wooden plaque marked “Lin” moved slowly; its window was open, revealing the face of a young girl.

Her features were exquisitely carved, her tea-green ruqun like spring rivers and mountain landscapes; her bright, sparkling eyes scanned the streets, curiously listening to street gossip:

“Dong Cang Fang had a major incident—reports say over a dozen people died…”

“The whole street’s been sealed off…”

…

Inside the carriage, space was ample: besides the soft couch and seats, a small yellow pearwood table stood beside the window, holding brush, ink, paper, and inkstone; a woman in a blue skirt was writing with a brush.

She was tall and slender-waisted, her full bosom gently contained by the smooth fabric of her skirt, curving like a ripe peach beneath her lower back.

Her face bore no makeup—initially appearing serene, yet her distant-mountain eyebrows and cherry lips, upon closer look, held a subtle, alluring charm, like a peony blooming unseen amid mist.

Her name was Lin Wanyi—not a student of Dan Yang Academy, but the eldest daughter of a royal physician family from the capital, currently serving as a guardian to her young relative Lin Zisu, who studied at the academy.

Seeing Zisu gazing around, clearly eager to run off and play, Lin Wanyi spoke with solemn caution:

“Zisu, while studying at the academy, you must focus on your lessons. Don’t wander off constantly. The streets are dangerous now—demonic traces have appeared in Dan Yang. If you meet a villain who snatches you away to use you as a furnace…”

Lin Zisu, aged sixteen, dressed like a refined lady of noble birth, yet mischievous by nature, turned her head and sized up Lin Wanyi:

“What use would a villain have in kidnapping a half-grown girl? I think you should worry about yourself, Auntie. You’re the blossom of the capital—your big white butt, even I, a girl, want to pinch it twice…”

“Zisu!”

Lin Wanyi assumed a stern expression, trying to quell this insolent girl.

But before she could scold, the carriage lurched violently, throwing both women off-balance; outside, a horse screamed and shouts erupted:

“Sssss~~—”

“Get out of the way…”

Clip-clop, clip-clop…

Lin Wanyi steadied herself instantly, turning to see two powerful steeds, inexplicably panicked, had broken free from the driver’s reins and charged straight toward the river.

Her heart leapt; she leapt from the carriage, grabbing the swinging reins—but the horses, as if possessed, kicked wildly, instantly overturning street stalls.

Boom~

Splash!

Seeing she couldn’t stop them, Lin Wanyi immediately planned to seize Zisu and flee—but as she grabbed Zisu’s wrist, a voice came from nearby:

Hoo~

A white shadow descended from above, darting forward.

Then her waist tightened, the world spun—she was lifted into the air.

?!

Taken by surprise, Lin Wanyi clutched the stranger’s arm; her vision filled with whirling lanterns and the face of a young man.

He wore a white brocade robe, handsome and radiant, radiating upright virtue—his attire suggested a wealthy youth, yet his eyes were extraordinary.

In a fleeting glance, she saw his eyes—close as breath—cold as a mountain spring, moonlit and clear; though devoid of warmth, they held the softness of water and the radiance of moonlight.

Lin Wanyi could not fathom how a young man could possess such an otherworldly aura.

She certainly could not have guessed that some unscrupulous idle men spent over a decade, since age three, rigorously training their posture and bearing just to outshine local natives!

So when she suddenly saw this ascetic-style godlike man, she froze.

Tap~

Soon, the three of them spun through the air once, landing steadily beneath the eaves.

Boom—

The out-of-control carriage crashed into the river with a thunderous roar, startling nearby residents:

“My goodness…”

“What happened?!”

…

Patrol officers along the riverbank rushed toward the crash site.

Xie Jinhuan landed beneath the tavern’s eaves, gazing at the woman in blue silk in his arms—he meant to offer comfort, but quickly noticed something odd.

The woman in blue, whether in face or figure, was a peerless beauty—yet she wore spectacles.

The gold-rimmed glasses were exquisitely crafted, rivaling modern craftsmanship; Xie Jinhuan had seen such items before in the capital, but only worn by elderly scholars.

This woman had some cultivation base—by all logic, she shouldn’t be nearsighted. And her skin beneath the silk felt slightly cold, almost unnatural…

But before he could examine further, the blue-skirted woman with glasses snapped back to awareness, blushing, pulling away, and bowing gracefully:

“Thank you, Young Master, for saving me.”

Lin Zisu turned and spotted the toweringly handsome young man, and quickly bowed:

“I’m Lin Zisu, nicknamed ‘Poison Hand Medic Lady.’ May I ask your name, Young Master?”

Medic Lady?

Xie Jinhuan glanced at the spiritually radiant girl beside her, confirmed she had no Adam’s apple, and quietly exhaled:

“Xie Jinhuan. Pleasure.”

Lin Zisu was about to thank him when her peripheral vision caught a jet-black eagle descending from the rooftop, landing on Xie Jinhuan’s shoulder, tugging at his collar with its beak.

“Wow~ Such a black eagle! Is it yours, Young Master?”

“Mm. Her name is Meiqiu…”

Xie Jinhuan nudged Meiqiu, trying to shoo his personal maid away.

But soon, he realized Meiqiu was acting strangely—panicked, persistently pulling him away.

Recalling the moment, the carriage’s sudden loss of control felt abrupt—he’d been too focused on rescuing them to notice.

And that strange voice he’d heard at noon—“Wait!”—then Meiqiu’s fur standing on end as she charged into the bandit den…

Could there be something foul near him?!

Realizing the danger, Xie Jinhuan’s heart turned cold. He dared not linger, turning to leave:

“I have matters to attend to. Excuse me.”

“Huh?”

Lin Wanyi, still watching the sinking carriage, hadn’t even finished speaking when she saw him depart—she hurriedly called out:

“Young Master, you saved us—we haven’t even thanked you. If you have time, please come to the Lin Family Clinic… to… to…”

Before she finished, man and bird vanished into the alleyway—no reply.

Lin Wanyi stared, bewildered.

Lin Zisu, equally surprised that any man could ignore her aunt, gazed at the spot where Xie Jinhuan had disappeared, and asked:

“That Young Master is so cold. Auntie, who is he?”

“His bearing is extraordinary—he must be a noble youth from the capital.”

“Oh…”

……

(Chapter ends)