Three days after the rain ceased, Chai Shuxin managed to stabilize the conditions of Wu Zixu and Song Wentong.
"There were too few medicinal herbs left in the temple, and I didn't have enough silver needles on hand. In my haste, I could only provide temporary relief," Chai Shuxin said, feeling Wu Zixu’s pulse within the water pavilion. "They will remain unconscious for some time."
"As long as they don’t die. Injuries caused by Yin soldiers cannot be mended by ordinary medicine; it’s already a miracle they’ve kept their lives." Wu Nie sat nearby, watching the two unconscious men. "I didn't expect you to be capable of this. You truly live up to the title of Lingshuzi."
"The Grand Duke overpraises me," Chai Shuxin replied. "I am no longer a member of the Medicine House."
"I’ve heard of that—nothing but a trivial bit of nonsense," Wu Nie sneered. "Though you were struck from the lineage, the appointment or dismissal of the Seven Houses' scions must be approved by the Tiansuanzi. Do you think he would ever agree?"
"By the time he wakes, it will likely be time to appoint a new Lingshuzi anyway." Chai Shuxin’s expression was calm. "Once *The Arbiter* is complete, my time will be short."
"How long can you hold on?"
"I have calculated my own lifespan," Chai Shuxin said tonelessly. "Six months at most."
"...You young people." Wu Nie shook her head repeatedly, sighing. "I truly am getting old."
She looked at Chai Shuxin. "Is everything prepared?"
"Nothing has been left to chance."
"Then it is time," Wu Nie said. "Fortunately, the midwinter cold has delayed things these past few days. We can wait no longer; even the Tiansuan brat cannot escape the rot of the flesh."
Wu Nie stood up. "I know little of *The Arbiter*, but secret arts are usually tedious. When do you plan to begin?"
"At the hour of the Rat tonight." Chai Shuxin looked at her. "Does the Grand Duke have any messages she wishes for me to pass on?"
"When one is over nine hundred years old, everything that needs to be said has long been exhausted. What remains is nothing but nonsense." Wu Nie smiled. "There is only one thing. Back then, I used my cultivation to manifest that great drum for the General’s Nuo Dance; I used it to seal the Yin-Yang Ladder. Though the lingering grievances within the ladder are no longer a major threat, they cannot be underestimated. Remember to tell the descendants to check it periodically. To be safe, I will draw the array map for you later. It can be used to reinforce the seal, or, if reversed, to open the Yin-Yang Ladder."
"Understood." Chai Shuxin nodded. "Is there anything else?"
Wu Nie glanced at him, her tone airy. "Boy, have you ever seen the death of a Taisui?"
"I have not."
"A thousand years ago, when the previous Taisui passed, fire fell from the heavens and burned for days without end," Wu Nie said. "My cultivation is spent, so my death likely won't be so extravagant, but I doubt much will be left of this mountain. A mountain soaked in blood—it’s only fitting to burn it all clean."
As night fell, Wu Nie washed herself by the water’s edge.
The pond in the Ginkgo Study was fed by a living spring. A few days ago, it had been filled with filth, but now it had regained its clarity. Wu Nie sat on the bank, her calves submerged in the water. She held a comb, slowly untangling her long hair.
She usually wore her hair in twin buns, meticulously bound with silk ribbons, so it was rare to see it flowing free. Now, she had removed her ornaments and smoothed out the matted blood in her locks, rinsing them in the clear water until the mass of black hair became as smooth as silk. Finally, she tied the ends with a red cord, took out a small knife, and cut the long hair off in one clean stroke.
Wu Nie handed the bundle of hair to Chai Shuxin. "Weave my hair into the bamboo curtains of the pavilion. That way, when the fire starts, the flames won't reach inside. You won't be staying here much longer anyway. When Baishui Temple burns and the Taisui falls, the Seven Houses will surely be alerted. Someone will likely come to retrieve you soon."
Chai Shuxin took the hair and, following her instructions, began to tuck the strands into the bamboo slats of the pavilion's curtains.
A crisp splash echoed from the water as Wu Nie leaped into the pond.
When she resurfaced, she had taken the form of an adult woman. Her shorn hair had grown long again, but it had turned snow-white.
Wu Nie took out rouge and paints from her pouch, applying her makeup by the moonlight reflecting off the water. In the past, she always wore thick greasepaint—white face and crimson lips—carrying the festive, garish air of the Ghost Market’s operas. Later, the rain had washed away her makeup, revealing a face as clear as water, making her look like a young girl again. Now, she pinned up her white hair, her hands slightly clumsy as she painted a classic, elegant face. She applied a thin layer of vermilion and drew her brows like distant mountains, resembling an ancient lady from a scroll—vivid yet ethereal.
Finally, she looked back and smiled, speaking in the elegant courtly accent of some forgotten dynasty: "The young master has no reaction at all? How terribly dull."
Chai Shuxin lowered his head slightly. "I presume this is how the Grand Duke looked when she was alive."
"Indeed." Wu Nie leaned over to look at her reflection. "This is me from nine hundred years ago."
The Lady of the Wu family from those bygone days.
*A life spent between the northern borders and southern lands,*
*Returning now with hair of white and a weathered face.*
*Waking from autumn dreams beneath a cloth quilt,*
*Before my eyes lie ten thousand miles of rivers and mountains.*
Late that night a century ago, sparks fell from the sky, turning the entire mountain crimson. The garrison in the city was jolted awake by the soaring flames, yet no order was given to extinguish the fire that night. Some said it was an omen—that the slaughter had been too great, drawing the ghost-fires and spirits from the underworld.
The flames were hauntingly beautiful and wild, as if the wind were dancing in a skirt of blood.
It was said that a few brave soldiers approached the outskirts that night, and their accounts upon returning were varied and strange. Because they were so preposterous, most people dismissed them as hallucinations or drunken ramblings. Some said they saw stars falling from the sky onto the mountain peak; some said they saw souls being guided to the afterlife; some said they saw flickering silhouettes within the fire...
And some said they heard singing.
In the House of Zhu, the venerable Elder Zhu Baizhi climbed the Star-Gazing Pavilion that night, looking out at the stars for the first time since the chaos began.
The young Zhu Yinxiao pulled at his hand, asking, "Great-grandfather, what’s wrong?"
"An old friend is departing for the west," Zhu Baizhi replied. "I am watching her go."
That night, Zhu Baizhi stood atop the high tower for a long time. No one knew what the thousand-year-old man was thinking.
***
When Mu Gesheng slowly drifted awake, the clear cry of a white crane reached his ears.
A gentle breeze blew, stirring the bamboo curtains. For a moment, he almost thought he was in the water pavilion of the Ginkgo Study, but as he sat up, he realized his surroundings were entirely unfamiliar.
Chai Shuxin was slumped nearby, sleeping deeply. He seemed to have stayed awake for a long time, the shadows under his eyes dark and heavy.
"You're awake." Someone entered the pavilion. Mu Gesheng was slightly startled to see it was Hua Bucheng.
"You are currently in Penglai," Hua Bucheng said. "The Lingshuzi sent out a signal. The Wuchangzi and the Mozi are also here. Though they are still unconscious, they were treated in time and will recover."
Mu Gesheng breathed a sigh of relief. He climbed out of bed and bowed. "My thanks to the Changshengzi." The movement pulled at his wounds, making him hiss in pain.
"Your injuries are severe; you should not move about," Hua Bucheng said tonelessly. "But matters are urgent, and there is something you must understand."
Mu Gesheng’s expression darkened. "I know. About the fall of the city... and the Yin soldiers."
The Seven Houses would certainly not let the aftermath of these events slide easily. With the second and third brothers unconscious and Chai Shuxin looking exhausted, he was surrounded by trouble on all sides.
"It is good that you know. The Wu family sent representatives a few days ago. There are matters you must decide." Hua Bucheng looked at him. "If you can stand, come with me now."
"I understand," Mu Gesheng said softly. "But could I ask you to wait a moment?"
"Why?"
Mu Gesheng looked at the sleeping Chai Shuxin by the bed. "I want to wait for him to wake up."
Hua Bucheng was silent for a moment before saying, "I told you before: sometimes the price of arrogance is more than just shallow blood and tears. To contend with heaven for a life, you must be prepared."
Mu Gesheng whispered, "I know."
"The observer sees clearly, while the player is blind." Hua Bucheng glanced at Chai Shuxin. "You know far too little."
***
Chai Shuxin was startled awake by a series of squawks.
Feathers were everywhere. Chai Shuxin stared blankly at the person before him. Mu Gesheng was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand clamped around the neck of a white crane.
Half the crane's feathers had been plucked. It craned its neck and honked loudly, sounding more like a common duck.
He stared for a long time before finally asking, "...What are you doing?"
Mu Gesheng’s hand paused, and he turned to look at him. "You're awake."
Chai Shuxin looked at the crane in his hand and frowned slightly. "Are you hungry?"
"No."
Heaven above—Mu Gesheng actually had a moment where he wasn't hungry.
The two stared at each other for a moment. Chai Shuxin grabbed Mu Gesheng’s wrist to check his pulse, then let out a breath of relief. "It's good that you're alright."
"I'm fine. Old Second and Old Third are still unconscious."
"It doesn't matter. I checked them earlier. As long as the right herbs are provided, they will be saved."
Mu Gesheng continued plucking the crane's feathers. "The Changshengzi came by a few hours ago."
Chai Shuxin propped himself up. Mu Gesheng hurried to support him. "What did he say?"
"Not much. He left things unsaid." Mu Gesheng pulled out another feather. "He gave me a riddle, and I've been sitting here all afternoon trying to figure out what he was hinting at."
He briefly recounted their conversation and looked at Chai Shuxin. "Do you know what he meant?"
Chai Shuxin slowly shook his head. "There are too many possibilities."
"I actually think there are very few," Mu Gesheng said suddenly. "Sanjiu, how is your body?"
Chai Shuxin’s expression didn't change. "Nothing is wrong."
"Truly?"
"Truly."
Mu Gesheng watched him for a moment, then loosened his grip. The crane flapped away in a flurry.
"Fine. I believe you."
Though Chai Shuxin looked pale, his spirit seemed fine. Mu Gesheng sat by the bed and began brewing tea, listening as the other man briefly explained the events of the past few days. "So, after the city fell, you dug me out of the ruins and ran into the Grand Duke at Baishui Temple. She was carrying the injured Old Second and Old Third."
"Baishui Temple had some herbs stored; it was the best place to go," Chai Shuxin said. "I treated the three of you, and once your conditions improved, I sent a message to Penglai. The Changshengzi sent people to bring us here."
"And the Grand Duke?"
"...The Taisui’s cultivation was exhausted."
Mu Gesheng was silent for a moment, then nodded. "I see."
The tea water came to a boil. Mu Gesheng handed a cup to Chai Shuxin. "The tea leaves the Changshengzi sent—Arhat Agarwood."
Arhat Agarwood was an Oolong Zen tea, upright and harmonious, filling the room with a long-lasting scent of camphor.
Chai Shuxin took a sip and said softly, "Good tea."
Mu Gesheng looked at the celadon porcelain. "'The Black Dragon enters the sea, the Phoenix nods its head'—I learned this tea-brewing technique from Master years ago. I haven't used it in a long time, but I haven't lost my touch."
Chai Shuxin replied, "The tea is good, but the water was boiled too long. It's overdone."
"..." Mu Gesheng choked on his words. "Then don't drink it."
With the back-and-forth, the atmosphere lightened slightly. Mu Gesheng exhaled. "The Changshengzi told me just now that the Wu family has sent people."
Chai Shuxin rubbed the rim of his tea cup. "That is not surprising."
"Yes. I acted recklessly first; the Seven Houses will surely demand an accounting afterward."
"You did your best. At least you held back the Yin soldiers."
"That's not how the debt is calculated," Mu Gesheng sighed. "The casualties in this battle were heavy. The Wu family might use this as an excuse to make a move. We need to find out what each house is thinking."
Chai Shuxin sat up a bit straighter. He held his tea cup, his expression blurred behind the rising steam. "I have one question for you."
"Why so formal?" Mu Gesheng waved a hand. "Ask."
"The city has fallen, and the garrison was wiped out. Before you woke, I checked the Register of Life and Death—not a single survivor." Chai Shuxin spoke each word deliberately. "Now that you are in Penglai, once this matter is settled, do you intend to remain as the Tiansuanzi, or will you return to the mortal world?"
"You've asked the wrong question," Mu Gesheng countered. "If the mountains and rivers are no more, where is the 'mortal world' to speak of?"
"You haven't answered me."
The sound of the wind drifted through the bamboo curtains. The water pavilion was situated at the very peak of the mountain, with a massive setting sun outside the window and white cranes circling to land on pine branches. Mu Gesheng had heard his Master say that the Jade Terrace of Penglai was as warm as spring, while the Sword Pavilion’s snow never melted for a thousand years. It had mountains of maples and miles of pine and bamboo; though far from the red dust of the world, it captured all four seasons of the mortal realm.
Penglai was indeed a place of solitary cultivation, isolated from the world. Here, even the stars seemed within reach.
Mu Gesheng looked at the drifting clouds outside. "The world is changing. I am but a mortal of flesh and blood. I have neither the great power to mend the heavens with stones nor the wisdom of a sage to tame the floods."
"I can only offer my own meager strength, like the Foolish Old Man moving the mountains."
His tone shifted, returning to his usual lazy, roguish drawl. "Besides, Master said that most Penglai cultivators practice fasting. Even if they occasionally eat, they don't touch meat."
"So it's better to stay with the army. At least there's meat to eat."
Chai Shuxin said nothing, merely handing his tea cup to Mu Gesheng.
"What's this for?"
"You brewed the tea; it's only right you taste it."
Mu Gesheng found it a bit odd but took a sip anyway. He immediately spat it out. "Sanjiu! How could you say this bitter stuff was good just now?! Did you do that on purpose?"
Chai Shuxin looked at him and suddenly smiled.
"I knew you would say that."
***
