Chapter 28

Chapter 28: Outside Town

Gu Shi Yi had barely fled five li when the old horse beneath her started foaming at the mouth, legs trembling with exhaustion. Behind her, the pursuers rode thousand-li steeds—every one of them broad-shouldered and fresh, as if they’d just stepped out of the stable. If the mountain road hadn’t been narrow and miserable, and if Gu Shi Yi hadn’t quietly played a few tricks—sliding loose rocks off the roadside and nudging them into the path to slow the chase—she would’ve been caught ages ago.

Now the town was finally in sight. Gu Shi Yi could’ve cried from happiness.

“Once I get inside and melt into the crowd, let’s see how you find me!”

She smacked the horse’s rump. The poor thing let out a mournful whinny, dug up whatever pride it had left, and lunged into town.

The instant they were inside, Gu Shi Yi swung down, yanked the horse’s head, and slipped into a narrow, quiet lane. Li Yan Er wriggled out of the small oilcloth pouch at Gu Shi Yi’s chest and clung to her shoulder, eyes wide as she stared back the way they’d come. Gu Shi Yi zigzagged through the alleys like she’d lived here all her life.

“Shi Yi,” Li Yan Er whispered, “you know the way?”

“I stayed here for half a month before with Old Daoist Priest,” Gu Shi Yi said. “He caught a ghost for a family in town. I still remember the streets.”

This world wasn’t like Yan Er’s, where people loved tearing everything down and rebuilding it twice a year. Here, two or three years meant nothing. Some places didn’t change for a hundred. The roads were still the roads, the houses were still the houses—only the people inside had changed.

By the time Gu Shi Yi led the horse deeper into the maze of lanes, the pursuers had already entered town. A servant pointed toward the alley mouth.

“Young Master! He ran in there!”

“After him!”

They poured in, turned left, turned right, turned again—and promptly lost all sense of direction. A few more bends and the “kid” was gone. Pu Yun Tian’s face twisted with fury.

“Where is he?!”

The house servants stared at each other, thinking the same miserable thought: We chased with you. If you didn’t see him, how would we?

No one dared say it out loud. Pu Yun Tian’s eyes were dark with rage. He slashed a hand through the air.

“Scatter. Find him!”

They split up, but this little town had low roofs and tangled lanes, and they were strangers here. They rushed around like headless flies, then regrouped an hour later with nothing but dust on their boots and empty hands.

Pu Yun Tian snapped. But he really was worthy of being the National Preceptor’s head disciple. He forced himself to think, then barked an order.

“Bring Second Miss’s carriage here!”

A fast rider went back at once and hauled the abandoned carriage in from the roadside. Pu Yun Tian gave another command.

“Post men at the front and rear exits. He hasn’t gone far.”

The town sat on flat ground in a mountain valley—high peaks on both sides, only two ways in or out. Guard the exits, then search house by house. Simple.

With a plan in place, Pu Yun Tian finally tamped down his fury.

“Find somewhere to stay.”

This was a busy pass on the road from Twin Sages City to the next small city. People came and went, and both inns in town were nearly full. That didn’t stop the Pu family’s servants. They threw silver at the problem until several of the best rooms were “miraculously” available.

Pu Yun Tian rested only briefly. Once the carriage was in position, he had guards posted outside and climbed in alone. In the dim space, he took out a yellow talisman and folded it into a paper crane, lips moving in a low chant. Then he tossed it forward.

The paper crane rose.

It spun in a tight circle inside the carriage as if testing its wings, fluttered out, looped around the carriage twice, and then shot off into the night air.

Pu Yun Tian’s eyes lit up. He stepped out and waved sharply.

“Follow the paper crane!”

A pack of armed servants trailed it out of the inn. But the crane didn’t dive. It circled half the town again and again, never landing, never choosing. Pu Yun Tian’s brow knitted.

“Is my Daoist art… lacking?”

The paper crane carried a single strand of hair he’d picked up from inside the carriage. With the Paper Crane Tracking Technique, that hair should lead it straight to its owner. If it found the target, it would land.

So why did it keep circling like a confused bird?

Pu Yun Tian learned his art from Zhang Zhen Yue. Zhang Zhen Yue might be the Yue Kingdom’s National Preceptor, but compared to Old Daoist Priest, his cultivation really was short by half a step—no, more than half. Gu Shi Yi had followed Old Daoist Priest since she was five, roaming the jianghu catching ghosts, subduing demons, and doing a healthy amount of “creative fundraising.” In theory and practice, she left Pu Yun Tian—who’d grown up in a warm greenhouse—eating dust.

As long as Gu Shi Yi hid her aura, Pu Yun Tian could trot after that paper crane for three hundred and sixty circles and still never find her.

Still, the crane’s refusal to land meant one thing: the thief hadn’t left town.

Pu Yun Tian’s voice went cold.

“Go. Ask door to door.”

While his men fanned out, Gu Shi Yi went straight to the home of a wealthy household and knocked like she owned the place. An elderly man opened the gate. The moment he saw her, he froze, then squinted and looked her up and down. Recognition spread across his face, followed by a delighted smile.

“So it’s the Young Daoist! What an honored guest—what an honored guest!”

He leaned his head out, searching behind her as if expecting to see a thin, shabby old Daoist priest trailing along.

Gu Shi Yi smiled brightly.

“Infinite Heavenly Venerable. Old Benefactor Wang, have you been well?”

The old man returned the greeting with equal warmth.

“Thanks to the Daoist’s blessing, all is well!”

He ushered her inside. Seeing the horse, he called loudly toward the inner courtyard.

“Da Lang! Da Lang, come out!”

A sturdy middle-aged man hurried out.

“Father, what is it—”

He stopped mid-step when he saw Gu Shi Yi, then hurried to bow.

“Greetings, Young Daoist!”

Gu Shi Yi returned the salute with a grin.

“Greetings.”

The old man ordered his son to take the horse to the back.

“Lead the Young Daoist’s horse in, wash it, feed it, and don’t neglect it.”

Da Lang took the reins. Gu Shi Yi bowed again.

“Thank you.”

Inside, the old man invited her to sit.

“Please, Young Daoist, come in and speak.”

Gu Shi Yi followed him into the main room. The old man tried to offer her the seat of honor, but she waved him off with a laugh.

“Elders sit above. Old Benefactor Wang, please take the upper seat…”

Only then did the old man accept, smiling as he sat. He had Gu Shi Yi take the lower right seat. Soon his eldest daughter-in-law came in, bowed, and served fragrant tea. Gu Shi Yi rose to thank her. Only after everyone was properly polite did Old Benefactor Wang ask the obvious question.

“Young Daoist, you travel alone. Why isn’t your honored master with you?”

Gu Shi Yi’s smile didn’t waver.

“My master’s cultivation has reached profound understanding. He said he will meditate alone in his cave abode and comprehend the great path of ascension… so he kicked his young Daoist priest out and told me to wander the world and seek my own opportunities.”

Old Benefactor Wang’s eyes widened, then he laughed.

“So the Daoist has reached such a realm? Then congratulations are truly in order!”

He even clasped his hands in respect. Gu Shi Yi clasped back.

“I only just left the mountain. I happened to pass through and remembered you were living here in retirement, so I came to pay my respects.”

Old Benefactor Wang stood and bowed.

“To be remembered by the Young Daoist—what honor!”

Gu Shi Yi hurried to rise as well, returning the bow. Once they were seated again, she asked after the family’s peace, as if flipping through a familiar script.

“After my master drove away evil from your home back then, has everything remained calm? Any spirits making trouble?”

Old Benefactor Wang shook his head with feeling.

“Our household has been peaceful ever since. It’s all thanks to the Daoist’s blessing.”

They exchanged pleasantries, and Gu Shi Yi used the “after-service follow-up” to plant herself comfortably in the Wang family’s home. She kept to her room and didn’t go out. She ate only plain porridge and vegetables, refusing even a whiff of meat, and explained that she was traveling to temper herself and disliked attention. She asked them not to reveal her whereabouts.

Her calm, detached manner convinced the Wang family they were hosting a true expert. They became even more respectful—and, just as she’d hoped, not a single person mentioned their guest to outsiders.

Meanwhile Pu Yun Tian’s temper was being ground to dust. Two days of searching, two days of questioning, and not one scrap of news. At last he couldn’t sit still.

“The Yin family’s Eldest Miss is about to choose a husband… but I can’t let this matter go.”

He paced, then an idea clicked into place.

Pu Yun Tian led his men around town, buying a pile of goods like a normal traveler. Then he checked out of the inn, mounted up, and rode out with his entourage in a noisy, unmistakable rush, hooves clattering down the main street as they “left town” at full speed.

Hiding at the Wang family’s home, Gu Shi Yi heard Wang Er Lang talking about the commotion. He said Pu Yun Tian had gone, taking all those vicious servants with him. She wanted to believe it… but part of her didn’t.

The next day she changed into a Daoist robe and walked around town. Using fortune-telling as an excuse, she drifted from stall to stall and asked discreet questions. At last she confirmed it: the rich young master with his retinue truly had left.

Gu Shi Yi nearly floated with relief.

“So he really couldn’t wait and went.”

In her mind, the conclusion was simple. Pu Yun Tian must be racing to Twin Sages City to become the Yin family’s Eldest Miss’s chosen husband. If he arrived too late, someone else would carry the bride off first.

Now that the danger had “passed,” Gu Shi Yi began planning her own exit. But she didn’t leave immediately. She stayed one more day, watching for any sign of trouble. When the town remained calm and quiet, she finally led her horse out from the Wang family’s courtyard, bid them farewell, and rode away.

She left from the far end of town. The moment she crossed the gate, two men sprang from the roadside and blocked her path.

Gu Shi Yi’s breath caught. She focused her eyes—old acquaintances.

They were the two men who’d chased her down and questioned her the other day. Her heart sank.

So the steward had laid an ambush after all.

The two men folded their arms and sneered.

“Kid. We finally caught you.”

Gu Shi Yi’s stomach dropped. Regret bit hard.

I really got careless. I should’ve scouted the exit in secret before leaving.

But regret didn’t stop blades. She tensed and glanced around—and sure enough, two more armed men stepped out behind her on the road, slow and confident.

“Kid,” one of them said, “you’re not going anywhere.”

Gu Shi Yi forced a smile that tasted like bitterness and clasped her fists.

“Brothers, that carriage truly was something I bought at the market. If it’s your household’s lost item, I already returned it. Why chase me this far?”

The leader gave a cold laugh.

“A carriage isn’t worth this effort. But you killed our household steward and abducted our Second Miss. That won’t be forgiven.”

Gu Shi Yi let out a short, humorless chuckle.

“I’ve never even seen your miss, much less know where she is. How could I abduct her?”

It didn’t matter. They didn’t care. The four men rushed in, their movements coordinated and practiced. Two attacked Gu Shi Yi directly while the other two angled for the exhausted old horse.

Gu Shi Yi’s heart squeezed. That horse had cost her real silver.

Fine. No more running.

She rolled off the saddle and slapped the horse’s rump hard.

“Go!”

The old horse was half-dead, but it had lived long enough to have some sense. It understood immediately and bolted back toward town.

Gu Shi Yi hugged Great King against her left side and raised only her right hand. The first man charged. She met him with a palm strike.

Bang!

The servant had seen her flee earlier and assumed she was just slippery, not dangerous. He reached for her wrist—only to find nothing. His vision blurred, and her palm was already planted on his chest.

A dull thud. The man flew backward and crashed into the roadside grass.

The remaining three stiffened.

“So he’s trained!”

Gu Shi Yi gave them a weary smile, set her broken clay jar down carefully, and spread both hands.

“Why go straight to killing? It’s bad if you get hurt, and worse if I get hurt. Listen—I truly don’t know where your miss is. Instead of wasting time on me, why not keep searching—”

Their answer was a tightening circle. They closed in together, hands on sabers, eyes sharpened with intent.

Gu Shi Yi sighed once, like a person resigning herself to a mess she didn’t start. Then her feet moved.

No one could tell what step she used. One moment she was in the ring, the next she flowed through them like a fish slipping between nets—dart, twist, and she was already out.

Bang!

Her palm landed on a man’s back, sending him pitching forward. In the same breath, she spun behind another. He whipped around and threw a punch, but she ducked low under his arm. Pain flared under his ribs as she drove upward and lifted him off the ground.

“Hah!”

Gu Shi Yi shouted, shoulder braced under the man’s body. One hand locked onto his pulse. A thread of true qi slid in, and the brute went half-numb, limp as wet rope. Gu Shi Yi tossed him away, and he hit the dirt with a heavy, humiliating thud.

In the space of a few breaths, three men were down.

The last one stood frozen, staring as if his eyes had betrayed him.

“You… you…”

Then his face twisted, and the words finally burst out.

“You bastard—your skills are this good. Why were you running earlier?!”