Chapter 17: I

The notice was posted not only on the city walls, but Pan Yun also noticed several copies placed on the table at the city gate.

She knew she could not enter this city; she lowered her head and turned to leave, when suddenly a hand seized her shoulder and two figures flanked her on either side.

“Meow—” Pan Xiaohei, startled, rolled violently off Pan Yun’s shoulder and crashed to the ground with a thud.

The child standing before Pan Yun winced in pity and hurriedly crouched to pick it up.

Pan Yun’s expression didn’t change; in the instant the black cat fell, she had already prepared to act—when a fingertip suddenly pressed against her waist, that familiar sensation…

Pan Yun instantly broke free of the acupoint, yet made no move, instead looking up—on her right stood Xuan Miao, on her left stood Tao Ji.

Meeting her gaze, Tao Ji smiled faintly, “Surprised? How did you end up on the wanted list?”

Xuan Miao frowned, “No more talk. Let’s go.”

Xuan Miao grabbed Pan Yun’s arm and turned to leave; Pan Yun barely had time to glance at the child and the black cat before Tao Ji reached out, snatching both up and carrying them away.

The four people and the cat departed in silence, without disturbing a single soul at the gate.

When they reached a secluded spot, Pan Yun shifted her step and instantly put five paces between herself and Xuan Miao.

Tao Ji moved to seize her, but Xuan Miao blocked him, saying to Pan Yun, “You think the Embroidered Uniform Guard are useless? Isn’t someone watching Pan Hong and his two sons in Datong right now?”

Pan Yun’s chest rose and fell, but she said nothing.

Xuan Miao: “The Embroidered Uniform Guard’s eyes are everywhere. They’re far more formidable than you imagine.”

“A single Embroidered Uniform Guard chased a little girl down the street and then vanished—can they not find you in one day? Five days? Ten days?”

Pan Yun’s heart sank further.

Xuan Miao, unusually verbose: “You underestimate the Great Ones, and you underestimate the Embroidered Uniform Guard.”

“You should be grateful you were frail and sickly since childhood, never leaving home, so no neighbor ever saw you—otherwise, your uncle’s entire family would already be in the Zhenfu Prison.”

Pan Yun touched the protective talisman she wore—it was intact, unchanged since noon, so Xuan Miao and Tao Ji would not harm her now.

She looked up at Xuan Miao, studying her for the first time seriously: “We’ve never met before. Why are you helping me?”

Xuan Miao said gravely, “It’s a vow. You agreed to travel with us, to enter the mountains and cultivate your heart—then you must fulfill your promise. I knew you killed someone, yet I didn’t turn you in; when you promised to reform and cultivate, I resolved to bring you back to the monastery. Bringing you back is the only way I can honor my vow.”

Pan Yun: “...That vow wasn’t spoken to me. You only thought it in your heart—you could’ve just...”

“Is an unspoken vow not a vow?” Xuan Miao stared sternly at her. “Is deceiving yourself not deception?”

Xuan Miao fixed her gaze on her. “How can someone who deceives themselves keep a promise to anyone else?”

Pan Yun had no reply.

Beside her, Tao Ji opened his mouth but held back.

Pan Yun turned sharply to him: “What do you want to say?”

So careful with his sister, yet so harsh with me—cowardly and bullying!

Though he seethed inwardly, Tao Ji’s expression was no better: “Nothing. Let’s go. How many detours have we taken chasing you?”

Instead of getting closer to home, we’re farther away now—where the hell have we wandered to?

Pan Yun didn’t move immediately, but turned back to gaze at the towering city wall.

Xuan Miao’s heart softened slightly; she stepped beside her: “There will be opportunities. You’re still too young. When you’re older, you can go.”

Pan Yun: “With this wanted notice posted, how will I ever go? I may never even live a normal life again.”

“Don’t worry—it won’t affect you at all,” Tao Ji murmured. “Few people in the mountains ever see this notice. Even if they do, they won’t remember it.”

Xuan Miao added: “You’re still young. In a few years, you’ll change. There are many people who look alike. Without proof, the Embroidered Uniform Guard can’t touch you.”

Pan Yun scoffed: “If the Embroidered Uniform Guard truly followed the law, how could my father be exiled to Datong? Do you know how he was imprisoned? Do you know why former Vice Minister of Justice Xue Xuan nearly lost his head?”

Pan Yun’s voice turned dark: “Because the Embroidered Uniform Guard falsely accused them of corruption and bribery, and Minister Wang Wen ‘heard’ and ‘otherwise’—so they were convicted!”

“Every official in court, except the fool on the throne, knows they were innocent.”

“Who has proof they’re guilty?”

If even officials like Xue Xuan and my father can be convicted without evidence, what’s stopping them from crushing me with a wave of the hand?

Yet Xuan Miao remained calm, repeating: “For you, they cannot. This too is a vow.”

Tao Ji frowned but didn’t object: “You underestimate Daoists. Though we rarely interfere in state affairs, not everyone dares offend us.”

“Here’s the deal: become my sister’s disciple. From now on, the Three Pure Ones Monastery is your kin. Your third master is currently in the Imperial Astronomical Bureau in Beijing—he occasionally meets the Emperor. Even Wang Zhen won’t dare offend him.”

In the palace, three people must never be offended: imperial consorts, eunuchs, and the diviners of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau.

Even the Emperor’s chief eunuch treats them with courtesy—if they say, “Your Majesty, a villain lurks beside you, one born under the Snake,” the entire palace must purge every person born under the Snake.

Even if the Emperor is rational and ministers protest, the accused will still be banished.

People prefer to believe than to doubt.

So Pan Yun’s case is truly trivial to Xuan Miao and Tao Ji.

Pan Yun opened her mouth, utterly unprepared for this turn.

Tao Ji beamed: “Well? Will you become my sister’s disciple?”

“No!”

“Not accepted!”

They spoke simultaneously, their meanings identical—both looked up at each other in surprise.

Tao Ji looked disappointed, then hesitated, twisting his fingers: “Then... I suppose I’ll reluctantly take you on?”

Please... Master... accept me!

As soon as the words left his mouth, Tao Ji thought it a brilliant idea, his eyes gleaming at Pan Yun: “You’re gifted, with true talent for the Dao. It would be a waste not to learn.”

He wanted to ask where she learned her strange arts—no, her magic—and what level she’d reached, so impressive indeed.

But Daoists are deeply cautious about revealing their cultivation methods unless they choose to speak of them.

Tao Ji was a strict rule-follower; though his curiosity burned, he held back from probing further.

Xuan Miao stood before Pan Yun, demanding a decision: “Will you come with us, honestly?”

Pan Yun: “If I refuse, you won’t force me?”

Xuan Miao shook her head: “If you refuse, I must still uphold my vow. A man without faith cannot stand. You made a promise—you must fulfill it.”

She paused, then said: “Pan Yun, the future of the Pan family rests on you.”

Pan Yun looked up, startled. Xuan Miao met her gaze steadily: “If you thrive, the Pan family thrives. If you falter, their fortune plummets. If you die, every member of the Pan family—including your uncle’s household—will be utterly destroyed.”

Tao Ji interrupted urgently: “Sister!”

But Xuan Miao continued, staring at Pan Yun’s face: “If you die, your father will follow soon after, then your two older brothers. Your family’s sentence is permanent exile, no pardon, no amnesty—someone must take your father’s military conscription. First your uncle, then your cousin, and eventually even distant Pan relatives...”

Thus, exile and conscription were considered as severe as execution.

Even among scholar-officials, many preferred death over exile and conscription.

The former is a single slash of the blade; the latter is an endless chain of ruin, dragging the entire family to annihilation.

One kills the body, the other kills the soul—neither is heavier than the other.

Xuan Miao spat blood, her face pale. Tao Ji immediately dropped the child and rushed to support her, reproaching: “You’re impossible. Big Brother was right—you should’ve learned the monks’ silent meditation. Talking less isn’t enough for you anymore—you should stop speaking entirely!”

Xuan Miao sat cross-legged under Tao Ji’s support, closing her eyes to meditate.

Tao Ji watched Pan Yun warily: “You’re not thinking of escaping, are you?”

Pan Yun: ... She wasn’t foolish. Xuan Miao had said it all plainly—and it was true. Why run?

Pan Yun felt only quiet sorrow. She was so close to Datong—by her current pace, in four days she’d see her father, her eldest brother, and her second brother.

Damn Embroidered Uniform Guard. Damn Wang Zhen and Wang Wen. If she ever met them again, she’d curse them with a misfortune talisman.

Pan Yun muttered inwardly, but her face remained calm. She walked to face Xuan Miao and sat cross-legged. She noticed: their meditation drew no external spiritual energy to nourish their bodies.

Sighing, she thought: Well, since they’re injured because of me, I’ll help a little.

She summoned the thin spiritual energy in the air, aligning her breath and body with it, activating her method—until the energy gathered around her in a gentle swirl...

She absorbed only a little, letting the rest drift between herself and Xuan Miao.

Even without actively drawing it in, the thickened spiritual energy seeped into Xuan Miao’s breath and skin, filling her with clarity and peace.

Xuan Miao, not foolish, soon sensed the change. She opened her eyes, glanced at Pan Yun, then closed them again and resumed meditation, drawing in the surrounding spiritual energy.

Tao Ji watched them for a moment, then turned to the child, who had been quietly huddled nearby.

The child, clutching the black cat, instinctively shifted toward Pan Yun—but didn’t seem truly afraid of Tao Ji, so after two steps, he just stared at him with wide, round eyes.

Tao Ji finally had time to wonder: Did Pan Yun, while fleeing for her life, just casually rescue a beggar child?

Clearly, he and his sister hadn’t misjudged her—Pan Yun’s actions were ambiguous, but her heart was good.

Looking at the child’s face, half-baked Tao Ji frowned: A short-lived face? Yet... there’s nobility in it too. Why is he a beggar?

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(End of Chapter)