Chapter 122 His Majesty’s Longevity Is Nearing, Behave…

Chapter 122: The Emperor's Birthday Approaches, Stay Low...

As Master Yu stepped out of the incense shop, she couldn't help but glance back, her gaze lingering on the shop's signboard. To her surprise, the calligraphy was remarkably well-crafted—something she hadn't noticed when she arrived.

Then it occurred to her that she had once again forgotten to ask for the other woman's name.

This was already their third meeting, yet they still hadn't exchanged names. A chance encounter, brief but destined—that woman was truly free-spirited.

Meeting someone like this unexpectedly filled her with a spark of hope for the future.

Things couldn’t possibly get worse than they were now, so what was there to fear?

After Master Yu left, Chen Hui emerged from the backyard and instructed A Chan to clear away the dishes while she prepared to close the shop.

The two busied themselves for a while. By the time the hour of You (5-7 PM) passed, the sky outside had darkened, and households began lighting candles.

Chen Hui sat in A Chan’s room, listening to her recount Master Yu’s circumstances.

Given her own past experiences, Master Yu’s story didn’t come as much of a shock.

But the fact that it involved impersonating a member of the imperial family made her remark, "That Lord Xu and the Fake County Princess have some audacity! Who knows how deep their feelings must be to dare something like this. If discovered, the Emperor would surely be furious."

At its core, this was a matter of compromising royal lineage.

If one could be replaced, what about others?

The Emperor wouldn’t care that there was only one such skin—he’d only think of himself and ensure those responsible met a terrible fate.

"As the saying goes, 'Fortune favors the bold, while the timid starve.' A single reckless gamble in exchange for decades of wealth and status—who wouldn’t want that?"

A Chan felt she was growing ever more perceptive of human nature.

When the stakes were high enough, what did recklessness matter? People could even abandon their morals—wasn’t the Shen family the perfect example?

"Too bad their luck ran out when they crossed paths with you," Chen Hui chuckled.

"How is that bad luck? It’s just an unexpected twist of fate," A Chan replied with a smile.

Whether the bond was good or ill, it was still fate—and she treated all such encounters with equal care.

Since she had agreed with Master Yu to allow a few days’ preparation, A Chan wasn’t in a hurry. The next day, while Chen Hui attended to customers, she remained behind the counter, tweaking her formula with corrections.

The funeral customs of the Witch Clan varied—some chose cremation, others removed the decaying flesh to preserve only the bones, while some insisted on keeping the corpse intact. This particular formula was designed specifically for corpse preservation.

The recipe called for a large quantity of black firestone, a type of rock mined from fire caverns. Cool to the touch, it had strong absorbent and mildly corrosive properties.

The Witch Clan used black firestone to dry out their deceased clansmen before conducting further rites—and for good reason.

Not only humans, but even Witches were prone to reanimation.

Legends from ancient times spoke of great Witches who, after being beheaded, rose again to cause destruction.

Though later generations weren’t as formidable as their ancestors, they still inherited the tendency for rising after death.

To avoid such troubles, Witch Clan priests first rendered the corpses inert—making them easier to preserve and less likely to spring up and scare people.

While A Chan was still fine-tuning her formula, a customer began conversing with Chen Hui.

The woman remarked, "The weather’s been getting colder lately. My maids have to prepare hand stoves before I even step out in the morning."

"Your constitution is still weak, Madam. You must strengthen your constitution, lest winter becomes unbearable."

"Exactly! Ever since giving birth to that little mischief-maker, I’ve been especially sensitive to the cold." The lady sighed before shifting the topic. "By the way, I tried putting incense powder in my hand stove, but it was consumed too rapidly. When will you adjust the recipe? I’ve been so fond of your shop’s latest incense—I could burn it all day!"

A Chan suddenly found inspiration in the woman’s words. She looked up with a smile. "If Madam wishes for incense powder for hand stoves, I’ll develop it these next few days."

"That would be wonderful! I’ll be waiting for your new blend."

After seeing the customer off, A Chan returned to the backyard and noticed clothes still hanging to dry.

She recalled last winter when she’d washed her garments, only for them to remain damp for days.

Since she needed black firestone anyway—with its absorbent properties—she might as well experiment with using it to dry clothes.

The more she thought about it, the more ingenious the idea appeared. She immediately increased the amount of black firestone in her formula threefold, then eagerly grabbed some silver notes and hurried out.

Seeing A Chan rush out after only a brief moment in the backyard, Chen Hui barely had time to call after her, "Be careful on the road!"

"Got it!"

A Chan visited three Hunting Shops in the West Market, purchasing the miscellaneous items on her list from two smaller stores before heading to the largest one for the black firestone.

Black firestone wasn’t particularly expensive, but most shops didn’t stock large quantities. Though relatively stable—safe as long as not held directly—accidents could still happen.

A Chan’s purchase wasn’t excessive—just one barrel.

The Hunting Shop she inquired at did have stock, though it would take an hour to deliver. The shopkeeper even offered complimentary delivery.

A Chan gladly agreed and provided her address.

After she left, the shop’s owner wrote down A Chan’s address along with the quantity and name of her purchase on a slip of paper, handing it to an assistant. "Take this to the Bright Mirror Bureau."

With the Emperor’s birthday approaching, the capital was under heightened security. Hunting Shops had to be especially cautious during this time, lest they inadvertently sell restricted items and face shutdown.

Though black firestone wasn’t particularly hazardous, buying such a large amount at once still required reporting to the authorities.

Thus, A Chan’s purchase list eventually made its way to the Bright Mirror Bureau, where the guards filed it under the day’s officer on duty, Qianhu Feng Yang.

Feng Yang reviewed a stack of purchase records from the capital’s Hunting Shops. His expression remained indifferent upon seeing the barrel of black firestone—until his eyes caught the address below.

The familiar Changping District sent a jolt through him.

Verifying the address, he confirmed it was indeed Miss Ji’s residence.

He stared at the report for a long moment before deciding this was beyond his authority—he’d have to consult his superior.

And so, the report ultimately landed on Bai Xiuming’s desk.

"A barrel of black firestone?" Bai Xiuming’s face was expressionless as he regarded Feng Yang. "You need me to teach you how to handle something this trivial?"

"Sir, take a closer look at the address."

Bai Xiuming’s gaze sharpened.

"I’m not sure why Miss Ji suddenly needs so much black firestone, but it shouldn’t be anything dangerous... right?"

Feng Yang’s tone was uncertain. In his memory, Miss Ji had never caused trouble—yet something about this report made his heart skip a beat.

Ignoring Feng Yang’s attempt to reassure himself, Bai Xiuming asked, "Just black firestone? Nothing else?" Feng Yang shook his head. "That’s all the Hunting Shop reported."

"Mhm."

Seeing that Bai Xiuming only responded with a mhm and nothing else, Feng Yang was puzzled but had no choice but to press on, "Sir, should we let this shipment pass?"

"Have the Hunting Shop's clerk bring the goods to the Bright Mirror Bureau first."

Hmph, even Miss Ji's purchase was being strictly inspected. Lord Bai truly never showed favoritism in official matters.

Thus, that afternoon, while A Chan was waiting at home for her black firestone to be delivered, along with the goods came not just the stone—but also Bai Xiuming and his subordinates.

Standing at the door, A Chan watched as the Bright Mirror Bureau Guards carried in a barrel of black firestone, accompanied by the nervous Hunting Shop clerk. She thought to herself, Bai Xiuming's showing up unannounced was truly in line with his personal style—totally on-brand and not disappointing in the least.

"What brings Lord Bai here?" A Chan asked, side-eyeing him.

"Routine inquiry." He paused briefly before adding, "Mind cooperating, Miss Ji?"

As if he would leave if she refused.

A Chan pursed her lips and stepped aside, finally no longer blocking the doorway. "Come in."

Unfortunately, she only invited Bai Xiuming inside—the others remained at the door, none daring to take a step forward.

Bai Xiuming followed her into the shop, seating himself at the table like he owned the place. He even poured her some water, as if he were the host.

A Chan picked up the cup, about to drink, then suddenly thought better of it and set it back down. "Shoot. I'm an open book—I guarantee Lord Bai will be satisfied."

"Why did Miss Ji purchase such a large quantity of black firestone?"

"To dry clothes, of course," A Chan answered without hesitation.

"Dry clothes?" Bai Xiuming's gaze was inscrutable, as if silently questioning whether she expected him to believe that.

A Chan met his eyes without backing down. "Clearly, Lord Bai has never done a day's chores. For regular people like us, washing clothes in winter means they never dry, and we don’t have endless spare clothes lying around. It’s a real nuisance."

She kept talking, but the man across from her showed no reaction whatsoever. Undeterred, she pressed on, "So I thought, since black firestone absorbs water, maybe if I process it a bit, I could use it to dry clothes and save myself the trouble. Who knew just thinking about it would bring you running?"

Propping her elbow on the table, she leaned forward slightly, batting her eyes. "Did I break some taboo? But the Hunting Shop owner never said it was forbidden."

Bai Xiuming watched as A Chan nearly closed the distance between them, his gaze slowly dropping to her lips.

Perhaps due to the recent dry weather, her lips looked chapped.

A Chan waited, but no response came. Annoyed, she dropped the pretense of calling him "Lord Bai" and gave him a poke. "Bai Xiuming, I’m talking to you."

Bai Xiuming looked away, ignoring her mischievous finger, and spoke calmly, "With the Emperor’s birthday approaching, all large orders from Hunting Shops must be reviewed by the Bright Mirror Bureau before delivery."

A Chan pointed at the barrel of stones by the door, skeptical. "This counts as a large order?"

"The shop owner must be just being extra careful."

"Fine. And what’s Lord Bai’s ruling?"

Instead of answering, Bai Xiuming said, "Black firestone has uses beyond absorbing water..."

"I know," A Chan jumped in. "It can also be used to dry corpses."

Bai Xiuming’s expression turned odd—this answer clearly threw him off.

"If Lord Bai ever needs to dry a corpse, feel free to come to me. I’ll teach you for free."

"Then my thanks."

"You’re welcome." A Chan smirked at him, then suddenly winced as the movement tugged at her lips, splitting a tiny crack.

She licked her lower lip, tasting a faint iron tang.

A Chan thought to herself. She should’ve listened to Hui Niang this morning and applied some lip balm. She was so fragile—being human was hard.

Noticing her pout, Bai Xiuming watched silently before suddenly reaching out.

His fingertips tilted her chin up. A Chan barely reacted, merely looking at him in confusion.

Bai Xiuming’s thumb grazed her soft lips, and the slight sting vanished instantly.

Without thinking, A Chan tried to lick her lips again, but her tongue met his lingering finger instead.

The quick, wet touch made Bai Xiuming’s hand pause. His thumb pressed against her plump lower lip, rubbing gently until its pale hue turned pink.

Before A Chan could react, he withdrew his hand.

"Done," he said.

A Chan touched her lip—the wound was gone. It really was healed.

Bai Xiuming was so handy to have around, she praised inwardly.

Then she saw him stand, as if preparing to leave.

"You’re leaving?" she asked.

"Mhm."

Bai Xiuming took a few steps before turning back to meet her gaze. His beautiful almond-shaped eyes were fixed on her as he said, "The Emperor’s birthday is near. Stay out of trouble?"

A Chan escorted Bai Xiuming to the door, watching as they left the barrel of black firestone behind. She turned lightly on her heel, hands clasped behind her back as she sauntered back in. Of course not. Not even a little.