Chapter 38

Chapter 38, Grass and Trees Part 8

Lan Wangji stood enveloped in an aura of frost, blocking Wei Wuxian’s path. Xue Yang threw Frostmist to intercept a strike for him. The two famous swords collided head-on and then flew back into their respective wielders' hands. Wei Wuxian said, "Is this what they call ‘better late than never’?"

Lan Wangji nodded. "Hmm."

Without another word, he resumed his clash with Xue Yang. Moments earlier, Wei Wuxian had been the one chased around by Xue Yang, but now the tables had turned, and Xue Yang was being forced into retreat by Lan Wangji. Realizing the situation was turning against him, Xue Yang’s eyes flickered with a sly smile. In one fluid motion, he tossed Frostmist from his right hand to his left and drew another long sword from his sleeve, seamlessly transitioning to a dual-sword offense.

Though his sleeves appeared narrow and lightweight, they were clearly modified to function as Daoist storage sleeves. The sword he drew had a sinister edge, its dark aura contrasting sharply with Frostmist’s bright silver gleam. With both swords in hand, Xue Yang’s attack became overwhelming, his left and right hands moving in perfect harmony. Lan Wangji said, "Calamity?"

Xue Yang smirked. "Oh? Hanguang Jun actually recognizes this sword? What an honor."

Calamity was Xue Yang’s personal sword, a blade that, like its owner, brought bloodshed and destruction. Wei Wuxian chimed in, "That name suits you perfectly."

Lan Wangji said coldly, "Step back. I don’t need you here."

Wei Wuxian obediently stepped back, following Lan Wangji’s order. As he reached the door and looked outside, he saw Wen Ning expressionlessly grabbing Song Lan by the throat, lifting him off the ground, and smashing him into the wall, leaving a human-shaped dent. Song Lan, equally expressionless, retaliated by grabbing Wen Ning’s wrist and flipping him to the ground. The two corpses clashed with relentless force, their blows echoing through the air. Without the sense of pain or fear of injury, they continued fighting even as limbs were severed. Wei Wuxian muttered to himself, "Seems I’m not needed here either."

Suddenly, he noticed Lan Jingyi frantically waving at him from inside a dark shop across the street. Wei Wuxian thought, "Ha, I’m definitely needed over there."

As soon as he left, the brilliance of Bichen surged. In an instant, Xue Yang lost his grip on Frostmist, and the sword flew from his hand. Lan Wangji seized the opportunity and caught it. Seeing his sword in someone else’s hand, Xue Yang slashed at Lan Wangji’s left arm with Calamity. When the slash failed, a cold, furious light flickered in Xue Yang’s eyes, and he hissed, "Give me the sword."

Lan Wangji said, "You are unworthy of this sword."

Xue Yang sneered.

Wei Wuxian approached the group of young cultivators and found himself surrounded by a cluster of teenagers. He asked, "Is everyone alright?"

"Yes!" "We’re following your instructions and holding our breath."

Wei Wuxian nodded. "Good. Anyone who disobeys me will get another serving of glutinous rice porridge."

Several of the teenagers, recalling the taste, made gagging motions. Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed from all directions, and shadows began to appear at the far end of the street. Lan Wangji also heard the sounds and, with a wave of his sleeve, brought out his Wangji Qin, his ancient zither.

The body of the instrument slammed onto the table, and he tossed Bichen into his left hand, its intent undiminished, as he continued to engage Xue Yang. Without looking back, he raised his right hand and plucked a string on the zither.

The clear sound of the zither echoed down the street, and in response came the familiar sound of exploding heads among the walking corpses. Lan Wangji continued to fight Xue Yang with one hand while playing the ancient zither with the other. With effortless grace, he plucked the strings, his focus never wavering from the battle. His dual actions flowed with composed precision.

Jin Ling exclaimed, "That’s amazing!"

He had seen Jiang Cheng and Jin Guangyao hunt demons before, but while he had always viewed his uncle and young uncle as the strongest cultivators, at this moment, he couldn’t help but admire Lan Wangji. Lan Jingyi said proudly, "Of course, Hanguang Jun is incredible. He just prefers to keep a low profile, you know?"

Wei Wuxian, puzzled, responded, "Are you asking me? Why ask me?"

Lan Jingyi pressed, "Don’t you think Hanguang Jun is amazing?!"

Wei Wuxian rubbed his chin and said, "Hmm, yes, very impressive. He’s the best." As he spoke, he couldn’t help but laugh.

As dawn approached, the night's dangers were far from over. The thickening mystic fog meant that soon, it would become impossible to move.

If it were just Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, they could handle it. But with so many living people present, if they were surrounded by a horde of walking corpses, escape would be impossible. As Wei Wuxian’s mind raced for a solution, the rhythmic tapping of the cane echoed once more.

The blind, tongueless girl’s spirit was back.

Without a second thought, Wei Wuxian urged, "We need to move now! Follow the sound of the cane and head in that direction."

Jin Ling was slightly stunned. "You want us to follow a ghost? Who knows where she'll lead us!" Wei Wuxian said, "Follow her. She's been following you since you entered, right? When you headed into the city, she was leading you out, away from the city gates, and that's when you ran into us. She was trying to guide you away from danger, to save you!"

The eerie, rhythmic tapping of the bamboo stick echoed through the fog, a sound that seemed both distant and close, as if guiding or warning them. But the intent behind the scare wasn't necessarily malicious. The paper head of a yin soldier that Wei Wuxian had kicked might have been placed there by her to warn and startle them. Wei Wuxian continued, "And last night, she was clearly trying to tell us something urgent but couldn't express it. As soon as Xue Yang appeared, she vanished. There's an eighty percent chance she's avoiding Xue Yang and definitely not working with him."

"Xue Yang?! What does he have to do with this? I thought it was Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan."

"Uh, I'll explain that later. But anyway, the person fighting with Hanguang Jun inside isn't Xiao Xingchen; it's Xue Yang impersonating him."

The tapping sound continued, seemingly waiting, seemingly urging them on. Following her could lead to a trap, but staying meant certain danger—being surrounded by walking corpses that could spray deadly corpse poison. The young nobles quickly agreed and followed Wei Wuxian, running in the direction of the tapping sound. Sure enough, as they moved, the sound moved too. Sometimes, they could make out a faint, small figure in the thin fog ahead; other times, they saw nothing.

After running for a while, Lan Jingyi said, "Are we just running away like this?"

Wei Wuxian shouted back, "Leave it to Hanguang Jun. We're leaving first!"

The qin string snapped with a sharp twang, almost like a nod, and Wei Wuxian chuckled. Lan Jingyi said, "That's it? Isn't he going to say something else?"

Wei Wuxian replied, "What else should he say?"

Lan Jingyi said, "Shouldn't it be something like 'I'm worried about you, I'll stay behind!' or 'You leave!' or 'No! I won't leave without you!' There should be a dialogue like that, right?"

Wei Wuxian burst out laughing. "Who taught you that? Can you picture Hanguang Jun saying something like that? Even I wouldn’t say it like that."

The younger members of the Lan family shook their heads. "No way..."

Wei Wuxian said, "Exactly. It'd be a waste of time. With someone as reliable as Hanguang Jun, I trust him to handle it. I'll do my part and wait for him to find me, or I'll go find him."

Following the tapping sound for less than half an incense stick of time, and after several turns, the sound suddenly stopped ahead of them. Wei Wuxian held out his hand to stop the younger ones behind him and walked a few steps forward. Ahead, a solitary house loomed in the thickening mist, its outline barely visible through the swirling fog.

"Creak—"

The door of the house opened, silently waiting for the group of strangers to enter. Wei Wuxian had a hunch that there was something inside. Not something dangerous that would take lives, but something that would tell them things and solve some of the mysteries.

He said, "Since we're here, let's go in."

As he stepped inside, his eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light within, and he called back without turning his head, "Watch out for the threshold. Don't trip."

One of the younger ones almost tripped over the high threshold and grumbled, "Why is the threshold so high? This isn't a temple."

Wei Wuxian replied, "It's not a temple, but it’s a place where a high threshold serves an important purpose."

A few fire talismans were lit, casting a flickering orange-yellow light that illuminated the room.

The floor was covered with straw, and in front was a sacrificial table. A few small stools of varying heights lay beneath the table, and to the right was a dark small room. Scattered around were seven or eight dark, ominous coffins, their lids slightly ajar.

Jin Ling asked, "Is this a mortuary? A place where unclaimed bodies are kept?"

Wei Wuxian nodded. "Yes. Bodies that are unclaimed, considered inauspicious to keep at home, or waiting for burial are usually placed in places like this. It's like a waystation for the dead." The small room on the right was likely where the caretaker of the mortuary slept.

Lan Sizhui asked, "Senior Wei, why is the threshold of the mortuary made so high?"

Wei Wuxian answered, "To prevent corpses from becoming zombies."

Lan Jingyi looked confused. "Does making the threshold high prevent zombies?"

Wei Wuxian said, "It can't stop zombies, but sometimes it can stop low-level zombie corpses from leaving." He stood in front of the threshold and said, "Let's say I just died and became a zombie."

The younger nobles nodded eagerly. He continued, "If I just turned into a zombie, wouldn't my limbs be stiff? I wouldn't be able to perform many actions, right?"

Jin Ling said, "Isn't that obvious? I can't even walk properly. I can only hop..." As he said this, he suddenly realized something. Wei Wuxian said, "Exactly. You can only hop." He jumped a few times with his legs together but couldn't clear the high threshold, his toes bumping against it. The young nobles found it highly amusing, imagining a newly turned zombie struggling to hop out but constantly being blocked by the threshold. Wei Wuxian said, "See? Don't laugh. This is a practical solution that ordinary people came up with, using simple but effective methods. If a zombie trips over the threshold, its stiff limbs will make it difficult for it to get back up, buying time until dawn or until the guard notices."

Jin Ling, who had just laughed, immediately wiped the smile off his face and said, "Why did she bring us to the mortuary hall? Won't this place be surrounded by walking corpses? And where did she run off to?"

Wei Wuxian said, "I'm afraid it really won't. We've been standing here for so long; has anyone heard any walking corpses moving around?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the young girl's ghost suddenly appeared on top of a coffin.

Since they had already carefully observed the girl's appearance under Wei Wuxian's guidance earlier—even seeing her eyes bleeding and her tongue pulled out—none of them felt nervous or scared upon seeing her again. This just goes to show that, as Wei Wuxian said, the more you're scared, the bolder you become, and you can face things calmly.

This young girl didn't have a physical body, and her spirit emitted a faint glow. She was petite, with a small face. If she were cleaned up, she would look like a harmless, pitiful girl next door. However, judging by the way she sat with her legs spread, she wasn't graceful at all. Her bamboo cane, which she used as a guide, leaned against the coffin, and her slender legs dangled and swung restlessly.

Sitting on the coffin, she gently patted the lid. Afterward, she jumped down and circled the coffin, gesturing at them. This gesture was easy to understand—it was a motion to "open." Jin Ling said, "Is she asking us to open the coffin for her?"

Lan Sizhui speculated, "Could it be that her body is inside? Maybe she hopes we can help her rest in peace." This was the most reasonable assumption, as many restless spirits are unsettled because their bodies haven't been properly buried. Wei Wuxian stood on one side of the coffin, while several other young men stood on the other side, wanting to help him open it. He said, "No need to help; stand back. If it's not a corpse inside and it sprays corpse poison powder in our faces or something."

He opened the coffin by himself, throwing the lid to the ground. As he looked down, he saw a corpse.

However, it wasn't the girl's corpse, but someone else's.

This person was a young man, placed in a pose of peaceful rest with his hands clasped together. Under his folded hands lay a horsetail whisk, and he wore a snow-white Daoist robe. The lower half of his face had a refined and elegant contour, pale and with light-colored lips. His upper face was wrapped layer upon layer with a bandage several fingers wide. Under the bandage, where his eyes should have been, there was no expected protrusion but an empty collapse. There were no eyes, only two hollow sockets.

When the young girl heard them open the coffin, she groped her way over and reached into the coffin, feeling the face of the corpse. She stomped her foot, and two lines of bloody tears flowed from her blind eyes.

Without any words or gestures, everyone understood. This corpse, placed all alone in a desolate mortuary hall, was the true Xiao Xingchen.

The tears of a ghost cannot fall. After silently crying for a while, the young girl suddenly bared her teeth in anger, making "ah ah" sounds, desperate and furious, as if she had something she urgently wanted to convey. Lan Sizhui said, "Do we need to perform the soul-summoning ritual again?"

Wei Wuxian said, "No need. We might not be able to ask the questions she wants us to, and I think her answers will be complicated and hard to interpret."

Although Wei Wuxian didn't say "I'm afraid you can't handle it," Lan Sizhui still felt a little ashamed and secretly resolved, "When I get back, I’ll practice the soul-summoning ritual more. I need to be as skilled as Hanguang Jun, able to respond and interpret instantly." Lan Jingyi said, "Then what do we do?"

Wei Wuxian said, "Empathy."

Each major family had their own method of extracting information and gathering data from wandering spirits. Empathy was Wei Wuxian's specialty. Unlike other methods, it was simple enough for anyone to use. It involved inviting the wandering spirit to possess the medium, using their own body as a vessel to invade the spirit's soul and memories, experiencing what they experienced, seeing what they saw, and feeling what they felt. If the spirit's emotions were particularly strong, the practitioner could be affected by their sorrow, anger, or ecstasy, hence the term "empathy."

This method was the most direct, simple, quick, and effective of all. Of course, it was also the most dangerous. People feared spirit possession, but empathy was like playing with fire—if one wasn't careful, they could suffer the consequences. If the spirit regretted it and counterattacked, the least severe outcome would be possession by the spirit.

Jin Ling protested, "This is way too dangerous! These kinds of rituals are always risky...!" Wei Wuxian interrupted, "Alright, there's no time. Everyone, stand properly and hurry up. After we're done, we still need to go back and find Hanguang Jun. Jin Ling, you'll be the supervisor."

The supervisor was an essential role in the empathy ritual. To prevent the person performing empathy from being overwhelmed by the spirit's emotions, they needed to agree on a code word or sound that the empath was familiar with. The supervisor would monitor closely, and if something went wrong, they would immediately act to pull the empath out. Jin Ling pointed to himself, "Me? You want me... to supervise you doing this?"

Lan Sizhui said, "If Jin won't do it, I will."

Wei Wuxian said, "Jin Ling, do you have the Jiang family's silver bell with you?"

The silver bell was a signature accessory of the Yunmeng Jiang family. Jin Ling had been raised by both families and carried items from both. He looked complex as he pulled out an ancient small bell, its silver body engraved with the Jiang family's crest, the nine-petal lotus. Wei Wuxian handed it to Lan Sizhui and said, "The Jiang family's silver bell has the effect of calming the spirit and clearing the mind; we'll use this as the code."

Jin Ling snatched the bell back and said, "I'll do it!"

Lan Jingyi hummed, "First, you didn't want to, and now you do? Such moody, princess-like behavior."

Wei Wuxian said to the girl, "Come inside."

The girl wiped her eyes and face, then collided with Wei Wuxian, her spirit merging with his. Wei Wuxian slowly slid down the coffin. The young men scrambled to bring over a pile of straw for him to sit on, while Jin Ling tightly gripped the bell, not knowing what he was thinking.

As the girl's spirit entered him, Wei Wuxian suddenly thought of a problem: "This girl is blind. If I empathize with her, won't I also become blind and unable to see anything? That would greatly reduce the effectiveness. Well, being able to hear should be enough."

After a moment of disorientation, Wei Wuxian felt his spirit settle onto solid ground. As the girl opened her eyes, Wei Wuxian also opened his, only to find that, contrary to his expectations, everything was clear and bright before him.

He could see!

During the emotional resonance, Wei Wuxian saw the moments in her memory that held the strongest emotions and where she most wanted to confide in someone. He just needed to watch quietly and feel what she felt. At this moment, their senses were linked—what she saw, he saw; what she felt, he felt.

The girl sat by a small stream, combing her hair by the water. Although her clothes were tattered, she still maintained a basic level of cleanliness. She tapped her toes to the rhythm and hummed a little tune while arranging her hair. No matter how she tried, she just couldn’t get it right. Wei Wuxian felt a thin wooden hairpin poking around in her hair. Suddenly, she lowered her head and saw her own reflection in the water. Wei Wuxian's gaze followed downward, and the stream reflected the face of a young girl with a melon-seed face and a pointed chin.

Her eyes were a blank, milky white, devoid of any pupils.

Wei Wuxian mused, "She looks like a blind person, but I can see just fine. What’s going on?"

After finishing her hair, the girl patted her buttocks and jumped up, grabbing a bamboo pole by her side. She hopped along the path, swinging the pole to hit the leaves overhead and flick stones on the ground, startling grasshoppers along the way. When she saw people approaching in the distance, she stopped jumping and held the pole carefully, tapping it on the ground slowly and cautiously. A few village girls approached, whispering among themselves and stepping aside to let her pass. The girl nodded repeatedly, saying, "Thank you, thank you."

One of the village girls, seemingly moved by compassion, lifted the white cloth covering her basket and handed the girl a warm steamed bun, saying, "Little sister, be careful. Are you hungry? Here, take this."

The girl hesitated, "Oh, is it really okay? I, I..."

The village girl placed the bun in her hand, saying, "Take it!"

She took the bun with a smile. "Thank you so much, sister!"

So, the girl's name was A-Qing.

After saying goodbye to the village girls, A-Qing quickly finished the bun and resumed jumping around. Wei Wuxian, sharing her body, felt dizzy from the jumping and thought, "This girl is really wild. I see now, she's pretending to be blind. Those white eyes are probably congenital. Although she appears blind, she can actually see. She uses this to her advantage to deceive and gain sympathy." By pretending to be blind, she made people let their guard down, while she remained fully aware of everything around her, ready to adapt to any situation.

But her spirit was truly blind, suggesting that she had lost her sight long before her death. So, how did she go from truly blind to pretending to be blind?

Could it be that she saw something she shouldn’t have?

In places where no one was around, A-Qing hopped along, but in the presence of others, she would shrink back and act blind, walking cautiously and stopping frequently. Eventually, she reached a marketplace.

In crowded areas, she put on a convincing act, tapping her bamboo pole and stumbling around as if she were truly blind. She moved slowly through the crowd, deliberately bumping into a richly dressed middle-aged man, saying repeatedly, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't see you, I'm sorry!"

She hadn’t missed him at all—she’d deliberately rammed into him!

The man turned angrily, seemingly ready to scold her, but upon seeing she was blind, and a somewhat pretty young girl at that, he refrained from slapping her in public. He snapped, "Watch where you’re going, girl!"

A-Qing apologized profusely, and as the man walked away, he couldn’t resist giving her backside a hard pinch. Wei Wuxian felt the pinch too, and his skin crawled with disgust. He wanted nothing more than to slam the man into the ground.

A-Qing curled up, pretending to be frightened, but once the man was gone, she walked into a hidden alley, spat, and pulled out a purse from her clothes. She counted the money inside and spat again, muttering, "What a creep! All dressed up with no cash to show for it—not even a jingle when you shake them."

Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but laugh. A-Qing was only a teenager, probably not even fifteen, yet she cursed like an adult and was quite adept at picking pockets. He thought, "If you had picked my pocket, you wouldn't be cursing like that. I used to be quite wealthy myself."

As he reminisced about when he had become a penniless vagabond, A-Qing had already found her next target. She pretended to be blind again, walked out of the alley, and after a while, bumped into a white-robed Taoist, saying, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I can't see, I'm sorry!"

Wei Wuxian shook his head inwardly: "Not even changing your lines, little beauty!"

The Taoist staggered from the collision but quickly turned to steady her, saying, "I'm alright, you can't see either?"

The Taoist was very young, with a simple and clean robe. A white cloth-wrapped sword was strapped to his back, and his lower face was handsome, though slightly thin. A thick bandage, about four fingers wide, covered the upper half of his face, with faint traces of blood seeping through.