Chapter 40: Grass and Trees

Any other girl her age would've screamed on the spot. But A Qing had spent years pretending to be blind. People dropped their guard around her, did terrible things right in front of her, and she'd seen enough ugliness to forge herself a diamond heart. She didn't make a sound.

Even so, Wei Wuxian felt the numbness and stiffness rolling up from her legs.

Xiaoxingchen stood among the villagers' sprawled bodies, sheathed his sword, and said quietly, "Not a single living person in this whole village? All of them walking corpses?"

Xue Yang curved his lips into a smile. But the voice that came out of his mouth sounded genuinely shocked, even a little grief-stricken. "That's right. Good thing your sword guides you to corpse energy on its own. Otherwise, just the two of us would've had a hell of a time fighting our way out."

Xiaoxingchen said, "Let's sweep through the village one more time. If there's really no one left alive, we burn all the walking corpses as soon as we can."

Once the two of them had walked off side by side, the strength came back into A Qing's legs. She slipped out from behind the house and walked into the pile of corpses, head down, looking left and right. Wei Wuxian's gaze drifted along with hers.

Every one of these villagers had been killed clean through the heart by a single thrust of Xiaoxingchen's sword. Then Wei Wuxian noticed a few faces that looked familiar.

In the memories from a few days ago, the three of them had stepped out during the day and passed a few loafers sitting at a village crossroads, rolling dice. When they walked past, the loafers looked up, saw a tall blind man, a little blind girl, and a little cripple, and burst out laughing, pointing and gesturing. A Qing spat at them and waved her bamboo pole. Xiaoxingchen walked right past, calm as could be, like he hadn't heard a thing. Xue Yang even smiled. But there wasn't a trace of warmth in that smile.

A Qing flipped through body after body, lifting their eyelids—every one had white pupils. A few faces were already crawling with corpse blotches. She exhaled in relief. But Wei Wuxian's heart sank lower and lower.

These people looked like walking corpses. But they were all alive.

They were living people poisoned with corpse toxin.

Near the mouths and noses of several bodies, Wei Wuxian spotted traces of purplish-red powder. Anyone too far gone—who'd already become a walking husk—was beyond saving. But some had only been poisoned shallowly. They could still be pulled back. These villagers had just been infected recently. Their bodies showed the signs of Corpse Mutation, gave off corpse energy, but they could still think, still speak, still act like living people. Treat them in time and, like Lan Jingyi and the others back then, they could be saved. Never, ever kill these by mistake. To do so was no different from murdering the living.

They could have spoken. They could have identified themselves. They could have called for help. But the catch was this: someone had cut out every single one of their tongues ahead of time. Fresh or dried, blood was pooling at the corner of every mouth.

Xiaoxingchen couldn't see, but Frosty Splendor guided him to corpse energy. And with no tongues, these villagers could only let out howls that sounded exactly like walking corpses. So he never doubted for a second that what he was killing were walking corpses.

Sick in the head. Killing through someone else's hand. Biting the hand that fed him. Vicious, underhanded, rotten to the core.

A Qing didn't understand any of this. What she knew was rough, scraps she'd picked up from Xiaoxingchen's occasional mentions. She muttered, "This rotten thing—is he really helping the Daoist?"

Wei Wuxian thought, Don't you dare believe Xue Yang that easily.

Lucky for them, A Qing's instincts were sharp. She couldn't pin down what was off, but deep down, her wariness toward Xue Yang had already taken root. She hated him on pure instinct, couldn't let her guard down. So every time Xue Yang went out night hunting with Xiaoxingchen, she'd tail them on the quiet. Even sharing a room, she never let up.

One winter night, wind howling, all three of them huddled around a busted stove in the tiny room. Xiaoxingchen was patching a vegetable basket with a broken slat. A Qing had wrapped herself in the only cotton blanket, bundled up like a dumpling, and scooted up against him. Xue Yang sat with his chin propped on one hand, doing nothing. A Qing kept nagging Xiaoxingchen for a bedtime story. Xue Yang, fed up, snapped, "Cut it out. Keep it up and I'll tie your tongue in a knot."

A Qing ignored him completely. "Daoist, I want a story!"

Xiaoxingchen said, "Nobody ever told me stories when I was little. How am I supposed to make one up?"

A Qing wouldn't let up, threatening to roll around on the floor. Xiaoxingchen gave in. "Fine. I'll tell you a story about a mountain."

A Qing said, "Once upon a time there was a mountain, and on the mountain there was a temple?"

Xiaoxingchen said, "No. Once upon a time there was a nameless immortal mountain, and on the mountain lived an immortal who had attained the Dao. The immortal took in many disciples but wouldn't let any of them leave the mountain."

Wei Wuxian knew the second he heard the opening: Baoshan Sannren.

A Qing asked, "Why not let them go down?"

Xiaoxingchen said, "Because the immortal herself didn't understand the world below the mountain, which is why she'd hidden up there in the first place. She told her disciples: if you want to go down the mountain, then don't ever come back. Don't bring the world's troubles into the mountain."

A Qing said, "How could anyone stand that? Some disciple must've snuck down to play."

Xiaoxingchen said, "Yes. The first to leave was an outstanding disciple. Right after he came down the mountain, people admired him for his skill, and he became a famous cultivator of the righteous path. But later, something happened to him—his whole personality changed. He suddenly became a demon who killed without blinking. In the end, he was hacked to pieces by a mob."

Baoshan Sannren's first disciple who didn't die a peaceful death. Yanling Daoist.

What exactly happened to Wei Wuxian's martial uncle after he descended the mountain and entered the world—what could have changed his nature so completely—remained a mystery to this day. Probably no one would ever know. Xiaoxingchen finished repairing the basket, felt it over, made sure nothing would poke anyone, set it down, and went on: "The second disciple was also an outstanding female cultivator."

Something hot flared in Wei Wuxian's chest.

Cangse Hermit.

A Qing asked, "Was she pretty?" Xiaoxingchen said, "I don't know, but supposedly she was very pretty." A Qing cupped her own cheeks. "Then I know what happened! After she came down the mountain, tons of people must've liked her, all wanting to marry her, and she definitely married some big official, or a great clan leader! Hehe."

Xiaoxingchen laughed. "You guessed wrong. She married a servant of a great clan, and the two of them ran off together."

A Qing said, "I don't like that. How could a pretty, outstanding immortal maiden settle for a servant? That kind of story is so cheap—some poor scholar's wet dream. So what? After they ran off, how did their life turn out?"

Xiaoxingchen said, "Then they both lost their lives on a night hunt."

A Qing spat. "What kind of story is that? Married a servant, fine, but they died together! I'm done listening!"

Wei Wuxian thought, Good thing Xiaoxingchen didn't go on to tell her those two also had a kid who'd grow up to be the most wanted demon in the world. Otherwise she might've ended up spitting on me too.

Xiaoxingchen said helplessly, "That's why I said from the start—I can't tell stories."

A Qing said, "Then you must remember your old night hunts, right? I love those! Tell me—what monsters have you fought before?"

Xue Yang had been squinting the whole time, half-listening. Now his gaze sharpened, his pupils contracted, and he glanced sidelong at Xiaoxingchen.

Xiaoxingchen said, "Far too many to count."

Xue Yang suddenly said, "Oh? So you used to night hunt alone too?"

The corner of his mouth tilted up—clearly up to no good—but his voice was full of innocent curiosity. After a pause, Xiaoxingchen smiled faintly. "No."

A Qing's interest was piqued. "Then who else was there?"

This time, Xiaoxingchen paused even longer. After a while, he said, "A very close friend of mine."

A strange light flickered in Xue Yang's eyes. The smile at the corner of his mouth deepened. Ripping open Xiaoxingchen's old wounds clearly gave him no small pleasure. A Qing, though, was genuinely curious. "What kind of person is your friend, Daoist? What's he like?"

Xiaoxingchen said calmly, "A man of pure character. A sincere gentleman."

At that, Xue Yang rolled his eyes with contempt. His lips moved slightly, as if silently cursing under his breath. Then he pretended not to understand. "Then where is this friend of yours now? Given your condition, why hasn't he come looking for you?"

Wei Wuxian thought, That's a vicious little knife he's twisting in.

Sure enough, Xiaoxingchen went quiet. A Qing didn't know the details, but she seemed to sense something. She held her breath, stole a glare at Xue Yang, her back teeth itching like she wanted to take a bite out of him. Lost in thought for a moment, Xiaoxingchen broke the silence. "Where he is now, I don't know either. But I hope…"

Before he could finish, he patted A Qing's head. "Alright. That's enough for tonight. I really can't tell stories. It's too much for me."

A Qing said obediently, "Oh, okay!"

But then Xue Yang suddenly said, "How about I tell one?"

A Qing had been feeling disappointed. She said at once, "Yes, yes, yes! You tell one."

Xue Yang said slowly, "Once there was a little boy.

"This little boy loved sweets, but with no parents and no money, he rarely got any. One day, he sat on some stone steps, zoning out like always. Across from the steps was a tavern. A man sat at a banquet table inside, spotted the boy, and beckoned him over."

The opening wasn't much, but at least it beat Xiaoxingchen's tired old yarn. If A Qing had rabbit ears, they'd be standing straight up right now.

Xue Yang went on, "The boy was clueless, didn't know what to do with himself, and the moment someone waved him over, he ran right up. The man pointed at a plate of pastries on the table and said: do you want some?"

"Of course he did. He nodded his head like crazy. So the man gave him a piece of paper and said: if you want it, deliver this to a room at a certain place. Once you've delivered it, I'll give it to you."

"The boy was thrilled. One run and he got a plate of pastries—a plate he'd earned himself."

"He couldn't read. He took the paper and headed straight for the address. He opened the door. A huge, burly man came out, glanced at the paper, and slapped him so hard his nose bled. Grabbing him by the hair, the man demanded: who told you to deliver this?"

That boy had to be Xue Yang himself.

Wei Wuxian hadn't expected this. Xue Yang was sharp as a tack now, but as a kid he'd been honest and clueless—did whatever people told him. Whatever was written on that paper couldn't have been anything good. The tavern man and the burly guy were probably feuding. The tavern man didn't dare curse him to his face, so he sent some random kid off to deliver an insult. What a pathetic move.

Xue Yang said, "The boy was terrified. He pointed in the direction, and the burly man dragged him by the hair all the way back to the tavern. The man was long gone. And the unfinished pastries on the table had been cleared away by the staff. The burly man flew into a rage, flipped over several tables, cursed up a storm, and left."

"The boy was desperate. He'd run an errand, gotten beaten, been dragged by his hair until his scalp was nearly torn off—and now he couldn't even get his pastries. So he asked the staff, teary-eyed: where are my pastries? You promised me pastries!"

Xue Yang said with a smile, "The staff had just had their shop wrecked and were in a foul mood. They slapped the boy a few times and sent him flying out the door, ears ringing. He picked himself up and walked a bit. Guess what? What a coincidence—he ran into that same man who'd told him to deliver the message."

At that point, he stopped. A Qing was completely hooked. She urged him on, "Then what? What happened?"

Xue Yang said, "What else? A few more slaps, a few more kicks."

A Qing said, "That's you, right? The one who loves sweets—it's gotta be you! How were you like that as a kid! If it were me, I'd ptooey, ptooey, spit in his food and tea first, then go wham wham wham…" She was waving her arms around, almost hitting Xiaoxingchen. Xiaoxingchen quickly said, "Alright, alright, story's over. Go to sleep."

A Qing was carried into her coffin, still pounding her chest in fury. "Argh! You two's stories are driving me crazy! One's boring enough to kill you, the other's annoying enough to kill you! Oh my god, that man who told the kid to deliver the message is the worst! I'm so mad I could die!"

Xiaoxingchen tucked her blanket in, walked a few steps, and asked, "What happened after?"

Xue Yang said, "You guess? There's no after. Your story didn't get finished either, did it?"

Xiaoxingchen said, "No matter what happened after, since you're still safe and sound now, there's no need to dwell on the past."

Xue Yang said, "I'm not dwelling on the past. It's just that the little blind girl keeps stealing my candy. She finished them all, and it reminded me of when I couldn't get any."

A Qing kicked the coffin hard. "Daoist, don't listen to his lies! I barely ate any!"

Xiaoxingchen laughed softly. "Everyone, get some rest."

That night, Xue Yang didn't go with him. Xiaoxingchen went out night hunting alone, and A Qing lay safely in her coffin—but she kept her eyes open, unable to sleep.

When the sky began to pale, Xiaoxingchen slipped back inside without a sound.

He passed the coffin and reached his hand in. A Qing closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. Once Xiaoxingchen had left the Charitable Mortuary again, she opened them. Right next to her straw pillow sat a tiny piece of candy.

She poked her head out and looked toward the sleeping quarters. Xue Yang was awake too, sitting at the table, lost in thought.

A single piece of candy sat quietly at the edge of the table.

After that night by the stove, Xiaoxingchen gave each of them a piece of candy every day. A Qing was over the moon. Xue Yang neither thanked him nor refused. That attitude annoyed A Qing for days.

All their food and lodging in Yi City was Xiaoxingchen's responsibility. He was blind and couldn't pick vegetables, and he was too shy to haggle. When he went out alone, if he ran into a kind vendor, fine—but more often than not, the vendors cheated him on purpose because he couldn't see. Short-weighted him, gave him wilted greens. Xiaoxingchen himself didn't care much—or rather, he barely noticed. But A Qing was sharp as a tack and furious. She wanted to storm out with Xiaoxingchen to buy vegetables and settle scores with those scummy vendors. Trouble was, she could see but couldn't show it, and she didn't dare throw a tantrum and flip a stall in front of Xiaoxingchen. That's where Xue Yang came in handy. A born thug, sharp-eyed and sharp-tongued. Whenever he tagged along to buy something, he'd brazenly slash the price in half first. If the vendor agreed, he'd push for more. If they refused, he'd glare like a mad dog. The vendors figured they were lucky to get any money at all, so they stopped counting the change and just wanted him gone. Xue Yang had probably never paid for anything back when he ran wild in Kuizhou and Lanling either. A Qing got her revenge, and in a good mood, even tossed him a few compliments. Add the daily candy to that, and for a little while, A Qing and Xue Yang maintained a strange, uneasy peace.

But she could never let go of her wariness around Xue Yang. Even that little peace kept getting crushed under the weight of her doubts and silent complaints.

One day, A Qing was out on the street playing blind again. A game she'd played her whole life and never tired of. She was tapping her bamboo pole, wandering around, when a voice came from behind her: "Little girl, if you can't see, don't walk so fast."

A young man's voice, a little cold. A Qing turned around and saw a tall Daoist in black standing a few zhang behind her. A long sword on his back, a horsetail whisk over his arm, robes fluttering. His posture was perfectly upright, with an air of proud, aloof elegance.

That face. It was Song Lan.

A Qing tilted her head. Song Lan walked over, rested his whisk on her shoulder, and guided her aside. "There are fewer people this way."

Wei Wuxian thought, Truly worthy of being Xiaoxingchen's friend. Good friends must be people of similar temperament.

A Qing giggled. "A Qing thanks you, Daoist!"

Song Lan took back his whisk, rested it in the crook of his arm again, glanced at her, and said, "Don't run around wild. The yin energy here is heavy. Don't linger outside after sunset."

A Qing said, "Okay!"

Song Lan nodded and kept walking. A Qing couldn't help turning to watch him. After a stretch, he stopped a passerby. "Excuse me. Has anyone nearby seen a blind Daoist carrying a sword?"

A Qing immediately pricked up her ears. The passerby said, "I'm not sure. Maybe you should ask further ahead, Daoist."

Song Lan said, "Thank you."

A Qing tapped her bamboo pole as she walked over. "Daoist, what do you want with that Daoist?"

Song Lan spun around. "You've seen him?"

A Qing said, "I think I have, and I think I haven't."

Song Lan said, "What would it take for you to have seen him?"

A Qing said, "Answer a few questions and maybe I'll have seen him. Are you that Daoist's friend?"

Song Lan froze. After a long moment, he said, "…Yes."

Wei Wuxian wondered, Why did he hesitate?

A Qing also thought his answer was half-hearted. Suspicious, she pressed on, "Do you really know him? How tall is that Daoist? Is he handsome or ugly? What's his sword like?"

Song Lan answered immediately, "About my height. Quite handsome. The sword is engraved with frost blossoms."

He answered without a single slip, and didn't seem like a bad person. A Qing said, "I know where he is. Come with me, Daoist!"

Song Lan must have spent years searching for his friend, disappointed over and over. Now, finally, a lead. For a moment he couldn't believe it. He struggled to keep his composure. "…Th…thank you…"

A Qing led him near the Charitable Mortuary, but Song Lan stopped far away. A Qing said, "What's wrong? Why aren't you going over?"

For some reason, Song Lan's face had gone deathly pale. He stared at the mortuary's gate, looking like he wanted to charge in but didn't dare. That proud, aloof air from earlier was gone. Wei Wuxian thought, Is he afraid to face what's close to home?

Just as he was finally about to go in, a languid figure slipped through the mortuary gate ahead of him.

The moment he saw that figure, Song Lan's face went from pale to iron-gray.

Laughter rang out from inside the mortuary. A Qing huffed, "That annoying ghost is back."

Song Lan said, "Who is he? Why is he here?"

A Qing grumbled, "Some bad guy. Won't even give his name, who knows who he is? The Daoist saved him. He clings to the Daoist all day. So annoying!"

Song Lan's face was a storm of shock and fury, blue and white flickering across it. After a moment, he said, "Don't make a sound."

A Qing was startled by his expression and did as she was told. The two of them moved silently to the outside of the mortuary—one standing by the window, the other crouching beneath it. From inside, they heard Xiaoxingchen say, "Whose turn is it today?"

The instant he heard that voice, Song Lan's hand trembled so badly even A Qing could see it clearly.

Xue Yang said, "How about we stop taking turns? Let's do something different."

Xiaoxingchen said, "The second it's your turn, you've got something to say. What different way?"

Xue Yang said, "Look, two little twigs here. Whoever draws the long one doesn't go, whoever draws the short one goes. Deal?"

After a pause, Xue Yang laughed. "Yours is short. I win. You go!"

Xiaoxingchen said helplessly, "Fine. I'll go."

He seemed to stand up, heading for the door. Wei Wuxian thought, Good, come out. The second he steps out, Song Lan grabs him and they run—that's the best case.

But after a few steps, Xue Yang said, "Come back. I'll go."

Xiaoxingchen said, "How come you're willing to go now?"

Xue Yang stood up too. "Are you stupid? I tricked you just now. I drew the short one. But I'd already hidden another, longer twig. No matter which one you drew, I could pull out a longer one. Just bullying you because you can't see."

After a few more jabs at Xiaoxingchen, he sauntered out the door with a basket. A Qing looked up at Song Lan, who was shaking all over, wondering why he was so angry. Song Lan signaled her to be quiet. The two of them slipped away in silence. Only after they'd put some distance did he start questioning A Qing: "When did that Daoist save this person?"

His tone was grave. A Qing understood this was serious and answered seriously too: "A long time ago. Almost a few years now."

Song Lan asked, "That Daoist never found out who this person is?"

A Qing said, "Nope."

Song Lan asked, "What has this person been doing around that Daoist?"

A Qing said, "Running his mouth, bullying me, scaring me. And…oh, going night hunting with the Daoist!"

Song Lan's brows shot up. He was sure Xue Yang couldn't possibly mean well. "Night hunting? Hunting what? Do you know?"

A Qing didn't dare be careless. She thought for a moment. "For a while they hunted walking corpses a lot. Now they hunt things like wandering ghosts and livestock acting up."

Song Lan questioned her carefully, always feeling something was off, but unable to pin it down. He asked, "Are that Daoist and he on good terms?"

Even though she hated to admit it, A Qing confessed, "I feel like the Daoist isn't very happy alone…finally having someone to travel with…so I think he really likes listening to that rotten guy's smooth talk…"

Song Lan's face was a sheet of dark clouds—anger and pity both. In all that chaos, only one thing was crystal clear:

Xiaoxingchen must never find out about this.

He said, "Don't tell that Daoist anything unnecessary."

With that, he stalked off in the direction Xue Yang had gone. A Qing called after him, "Daoist, are you going to fight that bad thing?"

Song Lan was already far ahead. Wei Wuxian thought, He's not just going to fight him—he's going to flay Xue Yang alive.

Xue Yang had left with a vegetable basket. A Qing knew which route he took to buy groceries. She cut through a shortcut, across a stretch of woods, running like the wind, her heart pounding. After a chase, she finally spotted Xue Yang up ahead. He was carrying a basket in one hand, stuffed full of greens, radishes, steamed buns, and the like, yawning lazily as he walked. Looked like he was on his way back from shopping.

A Qing was a pro at hiding and eavesdropping. She crouched in the bushes by the woods, creeping along with him. Suddenly, Song Lan's cold voice came from up ahead: "Xue Yang."

Like having a bucket of ice water thrown in his face, or being slapped awake from a dream—Xue Yang's expression turned ugly in an instant.

Song Lan stepped out from behind a tree. His long sword was already drawn, held in his hand, the tip angled toward the ground.

Xue Yang put on a look of surprise. "Oh, isn't this Daoist Song? What a rare guest. Here to mooch a meal?"

Song Lan thrust his sword forward. Xue Yang flicked Desolation out from his sleeve, blocked the strike, retreated a few steps, set his basket down by a tree, and said, "Stinky Daoist. I just felt like buying groceries for once and you show up to ruin the mood!"

Song Lan, blazing with fury, pressed him with killing intent in every move, growling low, "What the hell are you playing at! What do you want, getting close to Xiaoxingchen for so long!"

Xue Yang laughed. "So that's what Daoist Song's been holding back for. Wasn't expecting that question."

Song Lan roared, "Talk! A piece of trash like you—would you actually help him night hunt out of kindness?!"

Sword qi grazed his face, leaving a cut on Xue Yang's cheek. He didn't flinch. "Daoist Song, you really do understand me!"

One fought with the orthodox Daoist sword style, the other with the wild, vicious style of a killer and arsonist. Song Lan's swordsmanship was clearly superior. In one thrust, he pierced Xue Yang's arm. "Talk!"

If this hadn't been something so unsettling that he had to get to the bottom of, that thrust would've gone for the neck, not the arm. Xue Yang took the hit without changing expression. "You really want to know? I'm afraid you'll lose your mind. Some things are better left unknown."

Song Lan said coldly, "Xue Yang, my patience with you is limited!"

Clang. Xue Yang deflected a thrust aimed at his eyes. "Fine. You asked for it. You know what your good friend, your good confidant, has been doing? He's killed a lot of walking corpses. Slaying demons, no reward, so touching. Even though he gave you his eyes and went blind, lucky for him Frosty Splendor guides him to corpse energy on its own. Even better—I figured out that if you cut out the tongues of people infected with corpse toxin so they can't speak, Frosty Splendor can't tell the difference between a living corpse and a dead one. So…"

He explained it all in painstaking detail. Song Lan was trembling from his hands to his sword. "You beast… a beast worse than an animal…"

Xue Yang said, "Daoist Song, sometimes I think people like you with your fancy educations are at a disadvantage when you curse. You just keep cycling through the same few words. No originality, no punch. I stopped using those two words when I was seven."

Song Lan, beyond fury, thrust again—this time at Xue Yang's throat. "You took advantage of his blindness. You've deceived him so cruelly!"

The thrust was fast and vicious. Xue Yang barely dodged, but his shoulder blade was still pierced. He acted as if he felt nothing, not even a furrow of his brow. "Him being blind? Daoist Song, don't forget—whose eyes did he give to make himself blind?"

At that, Song Lan's face and movements both froze.

Xue Yang went on, "What position are you coming at me from? Friend? You've got the nerve to call yourself Xiaoxingchen's friend? Hahaha, Daoist Song, want me to remind you? After I slaughtered White Snow Monastery, what did you say to Xiaoxingchen? He was worried about you, wanted to come help you. What was your expression when you faced him? What did you say?"

Song Lan's mind was in chaos. "I! I, at that time…"

Xue Yang cut him off. "You were grieving? Furious? Heartbroken? Had nowhere to vent? So you took it out on him? To be fair, I did slaughter your monastery because of him, so you taking it out on him is understandable—and it played right into my hands."

Every word hit the mark.

Xue Yang pressed his advantage with both sword and tongue. His strikes grew more relaxed, more vicious and tricky. He was already gaining the upper hand, but Song Lan didn't notice. Xue Yang said, "Sigh! Who was it that said 'we need never meet again'? Wasn't it you, Daoist Song? He listened to you, dug out his eyes for you, and disappeared from your life. Now why have you come running back? Aren't you making things hard for him? Daoist Xiaoxingchen, wouldn't you agree?"

At that, Song Lan froze. His sword momentum stalled.

Falling for such a cheap trick meant he was truly thrown off completely in mind and footwork. Xue Yang wasn't about to waste this golden opportunity. He flung his hand up, and Corpse Toxin Powder rained down.

No one had ever seen this carefully refined Corpse Toxin Powder before, Song Lan included. The moment it scattered, he inhaled several mouthfuls and knew he was in trouble, coughing over and over. And Xue Yang's Desolation had been waiting for this. A cold flash at the tip—and it shot straight into his mouth.

In an instant, Wei Wuxian's vision went black. A Qing had shut her eyes in terror.

But he already knew. Song Lan's tongue—that was when Desolation severed it.

That sound was too awful.

A Qing's eyes burned hot, but she bit down hard, not making a sound, and pried them open again, trembling. Song Lan was barely holding himself up with his sword, one hand clamped over his mouth, blood pouring endlessly through his fingers.

Struck down by Xue Yang's ambush, his tongue cut out, Song Lan was in so much pain he could barely walk. But he still pulled his sword from the ground and stumbled forward, thrusting at Xue Yang. Xue Yang dodged easily, a sinister grin all over his face.

The next moment, Wei Wuxian knew why he was smiling like that.

Frosty Splendor's silver light pierced into Song Lan's chest and out through his back.

Song Lan looked down at the Frosty Splendor blade that had run through his heart, then slowly raised his head and saw Xiaoxingchen standing there, sword in hand, expression serene.

Xiaoxingchen, completely unaware, said, "Are you there?"

Song Lan's lips moved soundlessly.

Xue Yang laughed. "I'm here. What brings you here?"

Xiaoxingchen pulled Frosty Splendor out, sheathed it, and said, "Frosty Splendor felt something off, so I followed the guidance to check." He sounded puzzled. "It's been ages since I've seen any walking corpses around here. A lone one too—must have wandered over from somewhere else?"

Song Lan slowly sank to his knees in front of Xiaoxingchen.

Xue Yang looked down at him. "Yeah. It was making a hell of a racket."

Right now, all Song Lan had to do was put his sword in Xiaoxingchen's hand. The moment he touched it, Xiaoxingchen would know who it was. The sword of his closest friend—he'd recognize it in one touch.

But Song Lan couldn't do that. Hand Xiaoxingchen the sword and tell him who he'd just killed?

Xue Yang had calculated exactly this, which was why he was so cocky. He said, "Let's go. Back to make dinner. I'm hungry."

Xiaoxingchen asked, "Did you finish buying the groceries?"

Xue Yang said, "Yeah. Ran into this piece of trash on the way back. What bad luck."

Xiaoxingchen walked on ahead. Xue Yang casually patted the wounds on his shoulder and arm, picked up the basket again, and as he passed Song Lan, smiled faintly, leaned down, and said to him, "None for you."

A Qing didn't crawl out from behind the bushes until Xue Yang had walked far, far away—long enough that he'd probably made it back to the mortuary with Xiaoxingchen.

She'd been crouching too long. Her legs were numb. Leaning on her bamboo pole, limping, she made her way, trembling, to where Song Lan knelt, rigid, already a corpse.

Song Lan had died with his eyes open. A Qing jumped at the sight of those wide, staring eyes, then saw the blood pouring from his mouth, running down his jaw, soaking his collar and the ground. Tears slid down her cheeks in big drops.

A Qing, frightened, reached out and helped Song Lan close his eyes. She knelt before him, pressed her palms together, and said, "Daoist, please don't blame me, please don't blame that Daoist. If I'd come out I'd be dead too. All I could do was hide. I couldn't save you. That Daoist was tricked by that rotten thing. He didn't mean to. He didn't know it was you he killed!"

She sobbed, "I'm going back now. Please, in heaven, protect me so I can save Daoist Xiaoxingchen. Protect us so we can escape that demon's clutches. Make that living monster Xue Yang die a horrible death, be torn to pieces, never be reborn in any lifetime!"

She bowed a few times, kowtowed three times hard, wiped her face roughly, stood up, pumped herself up, and headed toward Yi City.

When she got back to the Charitable Mortuary, it was already dark. Xue Yang sat at the table peeling an apple, carving each one into the shape of a rabbit. He looked to be in a great mood. Anyone who saw him would think he was just a playful young man—never imagine what he'd just done. Xiaoxingchen came out carrying a plate of greens. Hearing her, he said, "A Qing, where did you go play today? Coming back this late."

Xue Yang glanced at her. A sudden flash of light in his eyes. "What's going on? Her eyes are swollen."

Xiaoxingchen hurried over. "What's wrong? Who bullied you?"

Xue Yang said, "Bullied her? Who could bully her?"

He was smiling, but clearly suspicious now. Suddenly, A Qing threw her bamboo pole down and burst into tears.

She cried with snot and tears streaming, gasping for breath, throwing herself into Xiaoxingchen's arms. "Waaah, am I ugly? Am I ugly? Tell me, Daoist, am I really ugly?"

Xiaoxingchen patted her head. "Of course not. A Qing is so pretty. Who said you're ugly?"

Xue Yang said with disgust, "Ugly as sin. Even uglier when you cry."

Xiaoxingchen scolded him. "Don't be like that."

A Qing cried harder, stamping her feet. "Daoist, you can't even see! What's the point of you saying I'm pretty? You're definitely lying! He can see, and he says I'm ugly, so I must really be ugly! Ugly AND blind!"

With a scene like this, both of them naturally assumed she'd been out somewhere today and some kid had called her an "ugly freak" or "blind ghost" or something, and she'd come back hurt. Xue Yang said with contempt, "Someone calls you ugly and you come back crying? Where'd your usual fire go?"

A Qing said, "You're the fire one! Daoist, do you still have money?"

After a pause, Xiaoxingchen said, a little embarrassed, "Um…I think I still have some."

Xue Yang cut in, "I do. I can lend it to you."

A Qing spat, "You've been living with us eating our food this whole time, and you want to lend us money?! Cheapskate! Have you no shame! Daoist, I want to go buy pretty clothes and pretty jewelry. Will you come with me?"

Wei Wuxian thought, So she's trying to lure Xiaoxingchen out. But what if Xue Yang insists on tagging along?

Xiaoxingchen said, "I can, but I can't tell whether things look good on you."

Xue Yang cut in again, "I can help her look."

A Qing jumped up, almost cracking Xiaoxingchen's chin. "I don't care, I don't care! I want you to come, I don't want him tagging along! All he does is call me ugly! Calls me little blind girl!"

Her throwing tantrums over nothing wasn't anything new. Both of them were used to it. Xue Yang made a face at her. Xiaoxingchen said, "Fine. How about tomorrow?"

A Qing said, "I want tonight!"

Xue Yang said, "If you go out tonight, the market's closed. Where are you going to buy anything?"

A Qing had no choice. "Fine! Then tomorrow! It's a deal!"

One scheme failed. If she kept making noise about going out, Xue Yang would definitely get suspicious again. A Qing had to let it go and sat down at the table to eat. Throughout that little scene, she'd performed exactly like her usual self—perfectly natural—but her belly had been clenched tight the whole time, nerves stretched to breaking. Even now, the hand holding her bowl was still shaking. Xue Yang sat to her left, watching her sideways. A Qing's calves tensed up again. She was too scared to eat, which conveniently looked like she was too upset to have an appetite. She took a bite, spat it out, stabbed at her bowl, muttering under her breath, "Stupid bitch, smelly brat, you're not exactly a beauty yourself. Bitch!"

The other two listened to her cursing some nonexistent "smelly brat." Xue Yang rolled his eyes hard. Xiaoxingchen said, "Don't waste food."

Xue Yang's gaze slid away from A Qing and onto Xiaoxingchen's face across the table. Wei Wuxian thought, It's no wonder the little thug can mimic Xiaoxingchen so well. They sit face to face every day—he's had plenty of chances to study him up close.

Xiaoxingchen, meanwhile, was completely unaware of the two gazes fixed on his face. In the end, in this house, the only one truly blind was him.

After the meal, Xiaoxingchen took the dishes inside. A Qing couldn't sit still and wanted to sneak in after him, but Xue Yang suddenly called out, "A Qing."

A Qing's heart lurched. Even Wei Wuxian felt the prickle of terror crawling across her scalp.

She said, "Why are you calling my name all of a sudden!"

Xue Yang said, "Didn't you say you don't like me calling you little blind girl?"

A Qing huffed, "Flattery out of nowhere—either a trap or a thief! What do you want?"

Xue Yang smiled. "Nothing. Just teaching you what to do next time someone insults you."

A Qing said, "Oh? Go on then, what do I do?"

Xue Yang said, "Anyone calls you ugly, make her uglier. Slash her face seventeen, eighteen times. Make sure she never dares show her face in public again. Anyone calls you blind, take that bamboo pole of yours, sharpen one end, and poke it into both her eyes. Make her blind too. See if she still has the nerve to run her mouth."

A Qing's hair stood on end. She pretended to think he was just trying to scare her. "You're just trying to freak me out again!"

Xue Yang snorted. "Take it as me trying to freak you out, then." He pushed the plate of rabbit apples toward her. "Eat."

Looking at that plate of adorable little rabbits—snow-white flesh, red skin, golden cores—a creeping chill crawled through A Qing's and Wei Wuxian's hearts.

The next morning, A Qing made a fuss first thing, demanding Xiaoxingchen take her out to buy pretty clothes and Carmine cosmetics. Xue Yang said, annoyed, "If you two go, does that mean I'm buying groceries again?"

A Qing said, "So what if you buy them once? How many times has the Daoist done it? You're always pulling tricks and freeloading off the Daoist!"

Xue Yang said, "Fine, fine, fine. I'll go buy them. I'll go right now."

Once he was out the door, Xiaoxingchen said, "A Qing, aren't you ready yet? Can we go?"

A Qing made sure Xue Yang was far away, then came in, shut the door, and asked in a trembling voice, "Daoist, do you know someone named Xue Yang?"