Chapter 13: An Unexpected Turn Halfway

Mingyue was awakened by the chill. Though autumn here was considerably warmer than in Yizhou, the night air still carried a chill, and she had not dressed warmly nor eaten supper. Now, she was truly beset by both hunger and cold. Upon opening her eyes, Mingyue instinctively glanced around, only to see Qin Shi still slumped on the ground opposite her. She did not believe for a moment that he had lain down simply to accompany her in slumber—he might be slow at times, but he certainly knew his boundaries.

Mingyue reached out and patted Qin Shi’s shoulder, but he showed not the slightest reaction. Frowning, Mingyue rose and walked over to him, unsurprised to find food boxes scattered across the floor. Her frown deepened—what had happened here? When she reached his side, she shook his shoulder vigorously, finally eliciting some movement in his expression.

Qin Shi’s eyes only managed to open fully after he blinked three times, and the first thing he did upon waking was shield his eyes, as if facing harsh sunlight, though night had already fallen.

“What happened?”

Qin Shi lowered his gaze, his eyes unfocused, taking a long moment to recover before he answered. “There was something wrong with the three serving maids who brought supper earlier. I used chopsticks to test the food they served and immediately detected a strange fragrance. After that, I lost all sensation.”

Even as he spoke, Qin Shi continued rubbing his eyes. Mingyue asked, “Are your eyes still uncomfortable?”

“It’s nothing, just sore and swollen.” Qin Shi replied quietly, blinking forcefully until tears moistened his eyes and he stopped rubbing.

At the sight of his bloodshot eyes, Mingyue was alarmed. “We should go see the physician. You look truly frightening… just like those strange men I saw before. As for the poisoned supper, we can report it to the House of the Righteous later.”

Qin Shi nodded, and the two of them made their way toward the main hall. But when they reached the square, they found it packed with a dense crowd, flaming torches illuminating the night sky.

Mingyue glanced at Qin Shi, seeing the color drain from his face, and any curiosity she’d felt vanished. She pushed through the crowd, determined to move forward. No matter what, she didn’t want Qin Shi to become one of those wretched souls with green serpents coiled around their necks. If anything happened to him, she would not only lose him but also her chance to complete the Lovesickness Talisman. She still hadn’t uncovered the truth—how could she let harm befall Qin Shi now?

“Hurry! Qin Shi, hold on, now is not your time to leave, do you hear me?”

“I never said I was leaving,” he replied.

Mingyue snapped, “Shut up!” Her shout drew the stares of those nearby. Someone must have taken the hint, for the disciples parted, forming a path from the center of the square to where Mingyue stood. Looking ahead, she saw two massive wooden pillars, as tall as a house, each binding a man whose face was deathly pale, eyes blood-red, with a green serpent flicking its tongue—the very image of the nine men Mingyue had encountered before. The memory made her instinctively step back.

At that moment, one of the bound men glanced at her and suddenly burst into laughter. “Ha! Though we die, our gu worms live on—you can never exterminate the Southern Border Gu Cult. Ha ha!” His wild laughter drew a flurry of lashes. Mingyue’s heart turned cold; she could tell he wasn’t looking at her, but at Qin Shi behind her. She grabbed Qin Shi and headed for the hall doors, but they’d only taken a few steps when someone called out to stop them.

“Mingyue, where are you going at this late hour?”

“Are you all blind? Can’t you see Qin Shi needs a physician?” Mingyue retorted irritably, but as she turned to point at Qin Shi, she saw his complexion had returned to normal, the redness gone from his eyes. Mingyue hurriedly stepped closer, pried open his eyelids and pinched his cheeks left and right, but could find no trace of what she’d seen.

Qin Shi rolled his eyes upward, his brow twitching, but made no move to stop her. The others, however, stared at Mingyue as though she were a madwoman. At last, she noticed their looks, withdrew her hands, and covered her mouth, coughing awkwardly. “Ahem, it was too dark just now—I must have been mistaken. Now that I see he’s fine, please carry on. We won’t disturb you further.”

Despite her words, Mingyue’s mind was still churning. She was certain she hadn’t been mistaken, so how had he recovered in the blink of an eye? Could it have been because of what that man had said? Mingyue shook her head and pulled Qin Shi away, retracing their steps.

“Mingyue, since you’re here, why not stay and watch?” a senior voice called out. “These two are members of the Southern Border Gu Cult, skilled in controlling others with their worms—a grave threat to the righteous paths. The House of the Righteous has long endeavored to eradicate them, and in recent years, their presence has all but vanished from the martial world. Yet now they seek revenge. Not long ago, you encountered them attacking our disciples on your way here, and today they dared sneak in and attempt to cast their worms. Fortunately, they were caught before succeeding.”

Mingyue bowed to the elder, whom she had spoken with only yesterday morning. “Congratulations. But I am not of the martial world and have little concern for these matters. I have neither the heart nor the desire to stay and watch, especially if it risks causing further trouble, as happened before. It’s best I take my leave.” With that, she pulled Qin Shi’s arm and hurried away, leaving the crowd far behind them.

Back on the quiet, gravel path, Mingyue slowed, only to be seized by fresh annoyance. She abruptly let go of Qin Shi’s arm and strode ahead alone. When she glanced back upon reaching the courtyard, Qin Shi was still trailing at a leisurely pace.

“Are you part snail? Hurry up!”

Qin Shi lifted his gaze, looked quietly at her, and did indeed pick up his pace.

Mingyue moved closer, examining his eyes once more. They were calm and clear, with no trace of that earlier crimson. As she frowned, Qin Shi pressed his lips together and asked softly, “Have you been feeling unwell these past two days?”

Mingyue raised her brows. “What, do you think I’m being irritable? There really was something wrong with you just now—you looked exactly like those two men tied in the square! Who knows if you’re truly recovered? If you go mad in the middle of the night, how will I survive? You may not care, but I have to look out for my own life…”

“I was wrong,” Qin Shi replied.

Mingyue shot him a cold glance, but seeing the hint of grievance in his calm demeanor, the irritation in her heart suddenly faded. She reached out and pinched his cheek, as soft and smooth as when she’d first found him. Sometimes Mingyue thought, if Qin Shi had been ordinary, he must have been the pampered son of a wealthy family to be so well cared for. But reality made that impossible.

Lost in thought, Mingyue spoke aloud: “That man in the square spoke only after seeing you, you know? But what I want you to understand is, no matter who you are or what happens, I will always seek the truth about what’s happening to me. So I don’t care who you are, but don’t hold me back—when a woman loses her temper, you’ll find there’s nothing you can do. Remember that.”

With that, Mingyue returned to her room. The day had been eventful enough; she needed rest. In fourteen days, she would have to prepare the Lovesickness Talisman for Jun Xiao—would she be able to return safely by then?

Lying on her couch, Mingyue stretched a hand toward the plain canopy above. The color had faded from her nails, her palm was pale, and now and then a bluish hue surfaced. Sleep descended swiftly, and Mingyue slipped into its depths before she could even turn on her side.