Chapter 20

Chapter 20: The Great Fire

The two old matrons exchanged a look that said plenty without saying a word. Gu Shi Yi caught it immediately; the corner of her mouth twitched.

So what—hit thirty unmarried and you don’t get the death penalty, but you do have to be “made impotent” so it feels fair?

Late bloomers really couldn’t catch a break.

She hurried to defend her reputation. “My family’s poor. I can’t afford a wife…”

“Oh…”

The two old matrons finally understood. They were about to pry anyway when the shouting upstairs swelled and swelled—until even the two women, hands mid-plate, froze. One of them turned to Gu Shi Yi.

“You came in from outside. Do you know what they’re making such a fuss about up there?”

Gu Shi Yi said, “They’re saying five people boarded the boat. They’re looking for someone…”

“Looking for someone… looking for who? We’ve got nothing here but young ladies and clients… Who could they be looking for…?”

The old matron hadn’t even finished when a cold snort drifted over.

“Hmph!”

It wasn’t loud, and yet it drilled straight into every ear on the entire boat. Every mortal aboard felt as if someone had smashed their skull with a hammer—

buzz—

and their minds went blank. Gu Shi Yi had at least a trace of Daoist training, so she only felt a sharp, ringing pain. But the two old matrons in front of her rolled their eyes back, went limp, and thudded to the floor. Their bodies twitched; white foam bubbled at their mouths.

Gu Shi Yi’s heart dropped.

[No regard for mortal lives at all… Heretical cultivator, no question.]

This had to be the same group that butchered Niu Da’s whole family back in town. What was this supposed to be now?

Were they planning to slaughter an entire boat in Xuan Cheng? Didn’t they fear the Clear Spirit Guard’s pursuit?

Cold sweat crawled down her spine.

What kind of hatred was this? It was just for a mirror. Was it really worth all this?

Was it really worth it?

She’d heard the old Daoist priest talk about how vicious the jianghu could be—and how cultivation was worse, a path that defied heaven. When justice failed and humanity rotted, some heretical cultivators wouldn’t just kill mortals. For the sake of a technique, they’d even sacrifice their own blood relatives.

If righteous cultivators caught you, at worst you handed over the item. But if you ran into heretical cultivators, turning it over wouldn’t buy your life. They could grind your flesh and soul into fuel for evil arts—then you wouldn’t even get to become a ghost.

Gu Shi Yi went pale. Instinct screamed at her to bolt outside and jump into the river, but chaos was already spreading across the deck—people collapsing, trays clattering, bowls shattering. Servants dropped like sacks of grain.

She jolted.

[No. If everyone’s down and I’m the only one sprinting around, wouldn’t that scream “problem” even louder?]

So she rolled her eyes back, frothed at the mouth, and pitched forward beside the stove.

At the same time, three figures watching from the shore all frowned. The middle-aged cultivator surnamed Qi glanced at the young man beside him.

“Hundred-Captain Official, they dared harm mortals inside the city. Are we not stepping in?”

The young man smiled, unhurried. “It’s fine. They’re only unconscious. After this, we’ll cast a spell and make everyone on the boat forget tonight. For now, it looks like they’re convinced their target is on board. They’ll search one by one. Let’s wait a little longer…”

They’d waited this long for exactly that—to force the hidden person into the open.

On the boat, the five intruders began searching in earnest. Their aura was filthy enough that the treasure-seeking disk was useless. They’d already swept the boat with Divine Sense and found nothing unusual, which only confirmed the leader’s suspicion: the old Daoist priest had hidden his aura, changed his face, and blended into the crowd.

So they fell back on the dumbest method imaginable—forcing spiritual qi into each mortal, one by one, and watching how they reacted.

“There are about a hundred people on this boat,” one of them said. “Split up. Check everyone. We have to find him before the Clear Spirit Guard arrives!”

After that, they’d use the Blood Escape Technique and run until the world ran out.

The pleasure boat sank into an eerie stillness. Out of a hundred bodies, only five moved. Gu Shi Yi lay there listening to the stove’s firewood snap and pop, and to the occasional crash of furniture being overturned overhead. Somewhere above, someone spat a curse—Old Five, by the sound of it.

“Pah… filthy mortals. You’ve dirtied my hands!”

Gu Shi Yi realized they were already coming down from the third floor.

[No. I can’t let them search the kitchen…]

She didn’t know what trick they were using to sniff out their target, but she didn’t believe her half-baked cultivation could fool anyone. If she didn’t do something now, she’d be caught.

She grit her teeth, lifted her head a fraction, and quietly pulled a chunk of burning wood from the stove. Then she tossed it straight into the pot of bubbling hot oil.

Boom.

The oil erupted like a beast. Fire leaped to the ceiling in an instant. A wooden boat feared nothing more than flame, and with a whole pot of oil feeding it, the blaze swallowed the galley in a handful of breaths. Anything that could burn caught. Smoke billowed thick and black, pouring through the small cabin door like a living thing.

The two old matrons on the floor coughed awake, eyes snapping open. The moment they saw the fire, they screamed.

“Fire! Fire!”

Only then did Gu Shi Yi “wake” too, hacking and flailing like she’d been choked back to life. She sprang up and shouted, “It’s burning! Run!”

She grabbed an old matron in each hand and dragged them out through the cabin door. Outside, the deck was littered with bodies sprawled in every direction. The two old matrons went rigid with shock, but there was no time—flames licked out after them, climbing the doorway and racing toward the second floor.

“Fire!” the old matrons shrieked. “Help! Put it out!”

Their cries sliced across the river. Gu Shi Yi screamed with them and began slapping the nearest faces she could reach.

“Wake up! Wake up!”

A few people jolted awake, blinked at the fire, and started shrieking too. Nearby boats were alarmed; oars splashed as people rowed over.

“Help!” Gu Shi Yi yelled toward the water. “Someone help!”

As the blaze grew, more and more people woke—some to screaming, some to smoke filling their throats. Panic detonated. Some rushed into the cabins to snatch valuables; others, trembling, leaped straight into the river. The first splash seemed to remind everyone else that water existed. Soon the river sounded like dumplings being dropped into a pot—splash, splash, splash—endlessly.

Gu Shi Yi didn’t jump yet. She followed a few brave house guards up to the second floor, shouting about saving people while her eyes darted everywhere. In the center of the hall stood a big potted money tree. She charged for it, yelling as she ran.

“Fire! Run! Get out!”

Bodies were everywhere. She didn’t have time to be delicate. She sprinted over bellies, arms, legs—anything that wasn’t moving fast enough—still shouting warnings.

People began to scramble upright, coughing and screaming. They bolted for the stairs—only to recoil when flames surged up from below, cutting off the escape.

Gu Shi Yi kept yelling as she snatched up a chair and smashed it into the huge porcelain planter beneath the money tree.

Crash!

The planter shattered. Dirt spilled across the floor. And from within the soil, a hand fell out—skin rotted away, flesh blackened, but still wearing a massive ruby ring.

Gu Shi Yi’s eyes lit up.

[So it’s still on her… I thought with everything that happened, this thing would be gone for good.]

Master really was watching over her.

She tore off a corner of cloth, covered the dead hand with it, and yanked the ring free. When she looked up again, the hall had become a choking soup of smoke. Men and women stumbled to their feet and, in blind terror, surged upward instead.

In the crowd she spotted the Red Robe woman—beautiful even in chaos—forcing her way toward the stairwell. Several young ladies were jammed at a narrow spot where only one person could squeeze through. They shoved and clawed at each other like drowning swimmers.

“Move! Let me through first!”

“I said me first!”

A tall, burly man barreled in. He took one look and roared, “All of you—get out of my way!”

He shoved women aside like furniture, knocking them down, then stomped over their bodies and surged up the stairs. People behind him copied him without hesitation, trampling the fallen to climb.

Gu Shi Yi saw it clearly: the Red Robe woman took the worst of it. Several feet landed squarely on her chest. When the crowd finally surged past and the hall emptied, Gu Shi Yi looked again and saw blood at the corner of the woman’s mouth.

“Save… me…” she rasped. “Save me…”

The Red Robe woman spotted Gu Shi Yi and reached out, eyes bright with desperate hope. Gu Shi Yi hesitated for half a breath—then sighed, grabbed her, and hauled her up.

She didn’t waste words. She supported the woman and forced her way to the third floor. Three other women scrambled up behind them. The third floor was—temporarily—less deadly. People were already climbing onto the railing and jumping. The burly man launched himself first.

Splash!

Gu Shi Yi touched the Clay Doll tucked against her chest and made her decision. She tore down a length of curtain, wrapped the Clay Doll layer after layer, and shoved it securely into her clothes. Then she ran to the railing and jumped.

Splash!

Cold river water swallowed her. The canal wasn’t deep; her feet touched bottom. She held her breath, kicked off, and swam hard underwater. When she surfaced again, she was already near the bank.

The shore was packed with people. Someone spotted her and thrust out a tree branch. Gu Shi Yi grabbed it and was hauled up, dripping, coughing, and shaking.

“Thank you!” she gasped.

“No need,” the person said quickly. “Move—there are more behind you!”

Gu Shi Yi stumbled aside and collapsed onto a green stone under a tree, panting as she watched people on the bank tug swimmers out one after another. Then she pulled out her bundle and unwrapped the Clay Doll.

“Good… I got out fast enough,” she muttered. “It didn’t even have time to get soaked…”

Yan Er’s current body couldn’t stand being waterlogged.

On the burning pleasure boat, the five heretical cultivators cursed through clenched teeth. They didn’t stop to consider that the fire had been set on purpose. With everyone dropping unconscious, a tipped candle was an easy excuse, and they grabbed it with both hands.

“Damn it,” one of them spat. “Unlucky to the bone.”

If the Clear Spirit Guard didn’t arrive, the Government Office would. Either way, tonight was finished.

The leader’s face was dark enough to drip, but he didn’t hesitate. “We’re leaving.”

When something couldn’t be done, you didn’t linger. Every extra breath was an invitation to disaster.

The five brothers moved as one. They vanished from sight and shot into the air.

On the shore, Gu Shi Yi felt it—an instinctive prickle. She looked up and caught faint shadows streaking toward the city outskirts.

[They’re running. Even they don’t want trouble with the Clear Spirit Guard.]

But then the five shadows abruptly halted in midair. A pale, faint figure stood directly in their path.

Gu Shi Yi froze. While everyone’s attention was still locked on the fire and the river, she slipped into the trees and climbed the tallest trunk she could find. From the shelter of leaves, she saw him clearly: a young cultivator, round-faced with a high nose, bright peach-blossom eyes, and a smile that looked like it had been carved there from birth. He wasn’t the kind of handsome that made your knees give out—but he was the kind that made your heart relax.

Gu Shi Yi’s eyes gleamed. She lifted the Clay Doll onto a branch like an offering.

“Yan Er,” she whispered, “look at that man up there. Isn’t he exactly your type?”

The mortals below couldn’t see a thing. Gu Shi Yi could only because she had a trace of spiritual power. Yan Er could because she was a wandering soul—no longer bound to mortal eyes.

Li Yan Er peered up. The young man wasn’t tall or short, fat or thin—just clean and fair, with a gentle smile that made him look easy to live with. Not the kind of face that screamed “dashing hero,” but the kind that screamed “steady, patient, will carry your groceries without complaining.”

It hit her tastes so perfectly she blurted, “He really is! Who is he…? Is he a cultivator?”

“How else would he be hovering up there like he’s standing on solid ground?” Gu Shi Yi whispered. “He’s probably Clear Spirit Guard. Those five made too much noise—Xuan Cheng’s people must have been alerted. He’s here to stop them.”

That would be perfect. Catch them all, and she’d finally breathe.

“Oh… oh!” Li Yan Er nodded rapidly.

Up in the air, the young cultivator spoke to the five men, his tone mild but edged.

“Gentlemen… You wiped out an entire family earlier, and now you’ve caused this kind of commotion in Xuan Cheng. You think you can just leave? Are you taking the Clear Spirit Guard for a joke?”