Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Hush Money

Most of the candles in the Withered Leaf Cottage had gone out. When Guan Mo Wen returned, Bai Chong An sat alone at a chessboard, fingers idly turning a piece as if the game mattered more than the world.

“Well?” Bai Chong An asked without looking up.

Guan Mo Wen bowed. “It seems they didn’t notice anything unusual.”

Bai Chong An chuckled—silent, almost amused. “In the end, they’re just chicks who haven’t seen the world.”

“Yes.” Guan Mo Wen’s smile was smooth. “Immortal Maiden Yue seems to be leaving home for the first time. Immortal Master Huo has a bit more experience, but it’s still limited.”

Bai Chong An’s gaze drifted toward the courtyard as if replaying the scene from earlier.

Huo Chong Xiao and Yue Yun Qiao had glanced at the objects outside with nothing more than curiosity. They hadn’t recognized them.

But his grandniece…

“How has Second Miss been these past years?” Bai Chong An asked.

Guan Mo Wen considered. “Second Miss has the best aptitude among the juniors. Perhaps because Second Master died early, she became especially sensible. If anyone in the house can pass the entrance test, it will be Second Miss.”

Bai Chong An lifted his brows slightly. “Is that so? Then our family’s future will depend on her.”

Guan Mo Wen smiled. “It’s too early to say. Whether Second Miss can reach your height is still unknown. This family still depends on the patron.”

Bai Chong An’s mouth curved in faint satisfaction. He turned toward the old servant. “Qing Ru. Take that talisman brush from the Treasure Vault and deliver it to her. Also pick out talisman ink and talisman paper. Add spirit stones as well. Without elders watching over her, she’s probably short on money.”

Such generosity was rare from him.

Guan Mo Wen lowered his eyes. A flicker crossed his face too quickly to catch. “The patron is most generous.”

Bai Chong An’s gaze shifted outward again.

Beneath the Yellow Springs Wood, the Yin-Yang Umbrella seemed to sense something.

It began to spin.

Faster.

Faster—

Elsewhere, Bai Meng Jin returned to her quarters.

Her small courtyard sat far from the main line. Only three people lived here: Bai Meng Jin, a matron assigned to oversee her, and a little maid barely 10 years old.

The matron was already asleep, snoring loud enough to shake the room.

The maid sat on a stool by the door, eyelids drooping.

When she saw Bai Meng Jin return, she jolted upright. “Miss,” she mumbled, then stumbled toward the kitchen to prepare water.

Bai Meng Jin waved her off. “Go rest.”

The maid hesitated, then obeyed, grateful.

Bai Meng Jin washed up herself.

She’d barely finished when Qing Ru arrived with the Withered Leaf Cottage’s reward. Golden Core cultivators didn’t need sleep, and Bai Chong An evidently had no sympathy for those with low cultivation who still lived like mortals.

Qing Ru smiled warmly, presenting the items with both hands. “This talisman brush was bestowed by elders of the Cinnabar Cloud Palace. The family head has treasured it in the Treasure Vault for years. He hopes Second Miss will not disappoint his kind heart.”

Bai Meng Jin put on an overwhelmed expression, thanked him with earnest sincerity, and escorted him out.

Once the door closed, the little maid—fully awake now—practically vibrated with excitement. “Miss! The family head finally saw you? Does that mean no one will dare neglect you anymore?”

Bai Meng Jin didn’t answer. She casually pressed a spirit stone into the girl’s hand.

The maid stared at it, eyes widening until they looked too big for her face.

A spirit stone was worth more than half a year of wages.

Miss was… so generous.

The maid stumbled off to bed in a daze.

Alone, Bai Meng Jin set everything under the lamp and counted.

The talisman brush was top-grade. Even in the Cinnabar Cloud Palace, an ordinary disciple wouldn’t get something like this.

The talisman ink and paper were excellent too—better than what most shops could sell.

And the spirit stones… nearly a hundred.

For her current self, it was already a fortune.

Bai Meng Jin set the items down and smiled faintly.

Not warmth.

Not gratitude.

A smile that meant nothing good.

Hush money?

She sat in silence until the lamp flame steadied.

Then she opened the box, spread the talisman paper flat, mixed the ink, and began to draw—slowly, stroke by stroke.

Her cultivation was still too low.

Fortunately, talismans didn’t weaken simply because the user’s realm was shallow. They could be a blade in the hands of someone too young to hold a sword.

…

Early the next morning, Bai Meng Jin was woken by noise at her gate.

“Junior Sister Bai!”

Yue Yun Qiao burst in like the sun, bright and impatient.

Bai Meng Jin stared at her in disbelief. “Senior Sister Yue?”

“Why did you sleep so long?” Yue Yun Qiao asked, concern creasing her brow. “Did your soul get hurt last night?”

Bai Meng Jin rubbed her eyes. “No. I still had homework, so I slept late.”

“You’re so diligent!” Yue Yun Qiao looked genuinely impressed. “I hate homework most of all.”

Bai Meng Jin rose and washed, the motions feeling oddly unfamiliar after so long living beyond such mortal routines.

When she stepped outside, Huo Chong Xiao was already waiting. He offered an apologetic smile. “Miss Bai, did we disturb you? My junior sister is impatient. She refuses to wait.”

Bai Meng Jin shook her head. “I usually have to go to school anyway.”

Yue Yun Qiao bounced on her heels. “So where are we going? Are there any fun places in Azure Cloud City?”

Bai Meng Jin thought for a moment. “The Yue Lao Temple. I heard it’s very effective. Lots of people go there.”

Cultivators treated ghosts and gods as superstition, but they understood why mortals clung to such things.

People needed something to hold onto, or life became unbearable.

The Yue Lao Temple stood near the market. Stalls lined the street like a ribbon of color. At the end rose a love-pledge tree, ancient and thick with leaves.

Red prayer ribbons hung so densely that the entire tree seemed draped in blood-colored silk.

Yue Yun Qiao gasped. “So many! Does it really work?”

An auntie selling ribbons smiled, eager. “Miss, this love-pledge tree has been here for hundreds of years. Everyone says it’s very effective. Write the name of the one you love, and Yue Lao will tie the Fate Thread for you.”

Yue Yun Qiao answered honestly, cheerful and unbothered. “But I don’t have anyone I like.”

“Is that so?” The auntie’s gaze flicked to Huo Chong Xiao, then to Bai Meng Jin. Not sure what the relationship among the three was, she quickly changed her pitch. “Then you can write a different wish. They’re immortals anyway—one more request won’t hurt.”

“That works too?” Yue Yun Qiao’s eyes lit.

“Of course!” The auntie leaned in, voice dropping into the conspiratorial excitement of gossip. “See that ribbon? It was tied by Zeng Old Three from Locust Blossom Lane. He’s a devoted son. His mother fell sick, and he prayed at every temple in the city. None of them worked, so he came to Yue Lao Temple too—like a dead horse treated as a live one. Guess what? Two days later, his mother really got better!”

“Right, right!” A granny selling herbal tea chimed in, eager to join. “And Madam Liu from Bamboo Tube Street—her man gambled away everything and was going to sell her off. She prayed here for two days. Then boom! He won it all back!”

Strange tales drew crowds like honey drew flies.

People gathered, voices overlapping, each trying to add their own miracle.

Just as the excitement peaked, someone shouted, “Look! Madam Liu is here to repay her vow!”

Bai Meng Jin turned.

A thin-faced woman stepped into view, dressed neatly, with an air that didn’t quite match the street—like someone who’d risen too fast, too suddenly, and hadn’t learned how to carry it.

Beside Bai Meng Jin, Huo Chong Xiao’s expression darkened.

Madam Liu looked full of spirit.

But a strand of black qi lingered over her brow.