Chapter 62

Master Sun had no idea what his obsession was.

He was simply so enraged that his chest tightened, he closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he was a ghost, surrounded by a horde of disobedient sons and grandsons wailing fake tears.

They cried so loudly, yet few had tears on their faces.

If he had wanted to do something before dying, now that he was dead, he felt all those wishes were unnecessary.

He thought deeply for a long time, then said: "I just want to see a few old friends; nothing else matters."

This wish was far easier than avenging his so-called filial sons and grandsons; Pan Yun smiled and asked: "Give me a name, and I'll find them for you."

Master Sun said: "First, let me see my old steward—he spent his whole life with me. I intended to let his family go free before I died, but I died suddenly and never got around to arranging it."

Pan Yun went to find the old steward.

On the main path, she casually grabbed a servant and asked: "Excuse me, where is the old steward now?"

"The old steward?" The servant sized up Pan Yun, frowned, "Who are you? If you have business, find your own supervisor, or if that fails, go higher—the Sun steward is above him. Why are you looking for the old steward?"

Pan Yun told the truth, lowering her voice into a sinister tone: "It's not me looking—he's your master."

The servant didn't sense the menace; instead, he misunderstood: "Is it the eldest son looking? Why send some outsider Daoist Priest? The eldest son's people are growing lazy."

Still, he had no intention of taking the task himself; he pointed a direction: "The old steward's in that row of rooms, the very last one, near the cowshed."

Pan Yun was surprised—did the Sun family's old steward live in such squalor?

Master Sun's anger surged; he shot off with a hiss.

Pan Yun hurried after him.

By the time she reached the door, Master Sun's furious shouting was already echoing from inside—the same curses aimed at his filial sons and grandsons.

Pan Yun pushed the door open; the man lying on the bed stirred at the noise, struggled to lift his head, his eyes blurred and unfocused, unable to make out faces, only able to ask: "Who is it?"

Pan Yun stepped forward, saw his flushed face, cloudy, lifeless eyes, and the faint smell of blood. She yanked back the blanket covering his back—his inner robe was soaked through with blood.

Master Sun saw it and erupted into another round of curses.

Pan Yun touched his forehead, then lifted his clothing to examine the wound on his back; she confirmed this injury was beyond her ability to heal. She pulled a Health-Boosting Talisman from her sleeve, activated it, and shoved it into his hand: "Wait here—I'll find someone to save you."

Master Sun, still cursing, watched Pan Yun turn to leave. He hesitated, then floated after her: "Who are you going to find? It must be one of my disobedient sons who did this. You're the ones they hired to perform rites—won't saving the person they injured make them angry?"

Pan Yun said: "We just won't let them know."

Pan Yun walked straight into the courtyard housing the ancestral hall; whether the Sun family's filial sons and grandsons were truly guilty or not, the Daoist Priests' rooms were on the left side of the ancestral hall.

So they could respond immediately if needed.

Mount Sanqing had two rooms—one for men, one for women.

Pan Yun went straight to knock. The door flew open with a swish—the moment she tapped: "Little Master?"

He turned and shouted inside: "Third Master, Little Master is here!"

Pan Yun gave him an approving glance, slipped in, and said: "Third Brother, it's urgent."

Tao Ji had just finished his cultivation, still seated cross-legged, and asked: "What's so urgent?"

"Someone's dying!"

Tao Ji opened his medicine chest, stuffed numerous pills and gauze into his sleeves, then shoved a few into Pan Yun's sleeves as well, before grabbing his needle pouch and stepping out.

Before leaving, he instructed Tao Yan Bai: "If anyone asks, say I'm preparing for tomorrow's rite—don't let anyone disturb me."

Tao Yan Bai agreed.

The two siblings deliberately took paths shaded from view—and along the way, no one noticed them.

When they returned to the old steward's room, he was already unconscious, clutching the Health-Boosting Talisman.

Tao Ji glanced at the wound on his back, frowned, emptied all his pills onto his palm, selected one, and slipped it into the old steward's mouth.

Pan Yun immediately poured him a cup of water.

Tao Ji tipped the cup, then pinched his jaw shut and pressed gently—the old steward involuntarily swallowed, gulping down the pill.

After the medicine, Tao Ji began cleaning the wound: "This wound is too severe, too filthy—it must be washed."

He pulled out a vial and handed it to Pan Yun: "Go fetch a basin of boiling water, pour half the powder into it, stir, and bring it back to me."

It was the middle of the night—where was she supposed to find boiling water?

Master Sun said: "Go to the kitchen—it's not far."

Master Sun even kindly guided her.

At the kitchen, half the staff had already left; only two men leaned against the wall, dozing.

Pan Yun saw them and instinctively slowed her steps, shushing Master Sun. The ghost, who had chattered nonstop all the way, fell silent at once, becoming cautious.

The woman and the ghost tiptoed into the kitchen; their eyes swept the room and spotted several kettles steaming on stoves.

Pan Yun checked each one, finally lifting the fullest, largest kettle.

She picked it up and walked out.

Master Sun followed close behind.

As Pan Yun passed the two dozing men, one tilted his head, nearly falling—he opened his eyes, yawned, glimpsed a shadow flicker past, startled, and was about to leap up—when a cat darted past his head from the side, landing lightly on the floor.

"Meow—"

The man woke slightly, instinctively watched the cat for a moment, then looked up again—the shadowy figure was gone. He assumed he'd imagined it, muttered: "Where did this stray cat come from? Get lost, get lost…" Pan Xiaohei tilted his head, gave him a single "meow," and slipped away gracefully.

The servant felt certain the cat's glance had been contemptuous—he grew angry, so angry he couldn't sleep.

So he went to check the kitchen as usual.

As soon as he entered, he spotted the missing kettle—he jumped: "Who? Who stole the kitchen kettle?"

Everything here was accounted for!

Pan Yun carried the kettle back to the old steward's room and helped Tao Ji tend to his wound.

Tao Ji moved swiftly; within less than half an hour, he had cleaned the wound and applied medicine.

Only then did he feel the old steward's forehead and pulse, pulled out his needle pouch, and said: "The injury is too severe, and too much time has passed—he may not survive."

Tao Ji gave him acupuncture to bring down his temperature and stop the bleeding. After pulling the needles out, the old steward's body trembled. Pan Yun got a fright. "What's wrong with him? Third Senior Brother, look, his face has gone purple."

Tao Ji glanced over, immediately lifted his head, pried open his mouth with force, and reached into his throat. The old steward gagged and spat out a mouthful of purplish-black congealed blood.

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Tao Ji let out a breath of relief, lifted half of his body, channeled force into his palm and stroked a circle along his back, then lightly patted upward as he turned.

The old steward was patted forward, then vomited blood in great gulps.

Pan Yun and Grandpa Sun stared wide-eyed, squatting to one side trembling.

The purplish-black blood turned purplish-red, then slowly turned red.

Only then did Tao Ji tap three acupoints in a row along his back, and slowly stroked his back again.

The old steward's bluish-white face slowly regained color, and his lips finally had a hint of blood.

Tao Ji let out a breath of relief and said to Pan Yun, "He should survive."

Pan Yun exhaled, and Grandpa Sun beside her, who had been holding his breath, exhaled along with her.

He stared at Tao Ji in a daze and muttered, "I've long heard from the little book that the Daoist masters of Mount Sanqing are good at medicine. I never paid it much mind—who would have thought it was really this good?"

"Made you not believe it, and you missed out, didn't you? If you'd invited our Mount Sanqing people to treat him earlier, he might not have died so soon."

Grandpa Sun sighed.

But Tao Ji, who was holding the old steward, suddenly stiffened. He hugged the old steward tighter and turned his head stiffly. "L-Little Junior Sister, who are you talking to?"

Pan Yun looked up at her senior brother, then turned to glance at Grandpa Sun squatting beside her, and turned back to grin at him. "Almost forgot—Third Senior Brother hasn't opened his Heavenly Eye. Come, let me formally introduce you. This is Grandpa Sun."

Grandpa Sun looked up and grinned at Tao Ji.

Tao Ji stared in silence at the empty space to her left.

How could he forget—this was a funeral, and his little junior sister had always loved to stir things up.

Tao Ji tried hard to imagine someone standing there, and tried hard to grin.

Pan Yun: "Third Senior Brother, if you don't want to smile, then don't. Let's treat the old steward's wounds first. Grandpa Sun is a very kind person; he won't mind these little formalities."

Grandpa Sun nodded repeatedly. "Right, I'm a very kind person."

Too bad Tao Ji couldn't hear him.

Still, he turned his attention back to the old steward. Because the steward had vomited quite a lot of congealed blood, Tao Ji decided to give him a restorative acupuncture to help his body.

By the time he pulled out the needles, two quarter-hours had already passed.

It was already late, and outside had grown quiet—even the sound of crying was gone.

And in that quiet, Tao Ji keenly heard the sound of shoe soles stepping on bluestone slabs. The bluestone seemed unsteady, and when the shoe stepped on it and lifted, it made a dull thudding sound.

Tao Ji's heart leapt up. He gripped the needle in his hand tighter and said in a low voice, "Little Junior Sister, did you hear that?"

Pan Yun also lowered her voice and replied, "I heard it."

Tao Ji: "Wh-Wh-What is that sound?"

Pan Yun's face grew solemn. "It might be someone coming to see the old steward, or it might be someone coming to harm him. Don't be afraid, Third Senior Brother—I'll go out and take a look."

Hearing that, Tao Ji wasn't quite so afraid. "It's not a ghost?"

Pan Yun gave him a wordless look, then said, "Third Senior Brother, what's so scary about ghosts? People are the scariest, okay? Besides, it's not like there aren't any ghosts in our room."

Tao Ji's eyes darted around. He gave a haphazard hum, rose, and stuck close to Pan Yun as they walked out. "If it's a person, I'm not afraid. I'll go out and take a look."

Tao Ji wasn't afraid, and Grandpa Sun was even less afraid.

The moment he heard that whatever was outside was a person and not a ghost, he immediately sprang out from beside Pan Yun and shouted, "You don't need to go—I'll go look!"

With that, he passed straight through the door and suddenly came face-to-face with the person outside.

Grandpa Sun was so startled that he tumbled back inside through the door, but the person outside was none the wiser. Instead, they gently knocked on the door, and when they heard no response, quietly pushed it open.

He poked his head in to look, and his eyes met Pan Yun's, who was gripping a wooden stool.

Both of them froze. Grandpa Qian shoved Steward Qian and said displeasedly, "What are you being so sneaky about? Are you going in or not?"

Grandpa Qian walked into the room, saw two familiar faces, and fell silent too.

The lucky number for this chapter is a number ending in 7, screenshot as proof

(End of this chapter)