Seventeen: Tales of the Strange and Uncanny

“Master, the door isn’t closed.”

Xiao Qin stood before Pei Xiunian, her hand raised cautiously, an invisible vortex of energy swirling in her palm, ready to strike. The path they had taken was already swallowed by thick mist, and it was clear that what confronted them here bordered on the supernatural. It finally felt a little like the realm of cultivation.

Yet Pei Xiunian had little inclination for heroics at this moment. News of his victory had already crossed state borders, and the imperial court would soon dispatch envoys to verify his whereabouts. Hangzhou, unfortunately, was also the domain where the Third Prince had openly visited, leaving Pei Xiunian with little time.

He had originally planned to rest for the night and then seek a way to open his meridians—a truly urgent matter. During his days on the ferry, he had used Opening Pill, and thanks to his unrivaled capacity for consumption, he’d refined the pill with near-perfect efficiency. Even so, he couldn’t clear the blockage in his cultivation.

Pei Xiunian sighed quietly; he’d been replaying events and planning his next move as he traveled, neglecting the situation before him. Now, with no other options left, he could only let things unfold.

He looked again toward Xiao Qin, seeing a surge of true energy flowing from her palm outward. She guided the energy across the vast fields surrounding the manor, and detecting no hidden formations or traps, she bowed to Pei Xiunian and reported, “Master, there’s nothing amiss within the manor. Someone is on their way.”

Pei Xiunian smiled faintly, neither affirming nor denying; the manor itself was the problem, regardless of anything within. But the strange and uncanny were not things a girl gifted only in martial arts could discern, and he hadn’t expected much from her—she was merely a guard.

They waited quietly, and soon someone arrived. A thin servant stood at the gate, yawning as he asked, “Who are you? What business do you have at Cao Manor in the dead of night?”

Xiao Qin replied for Pei Xiunian, bowing, “We are travelers from afar. On the way to the prefecture, thieves stole our money, leaving us with nowhere to rest. We heard Master Cao is kind-hearted and wondered if we might stay for the night…”

Pei Xiunian had long since understood the use of Heavenly Eye—revealing true form was only one function. Standing behind Xiao Qin, he observed the servant, who seemed no different from an ordinary person, only his true face was paler and his spirit somewhat worn. Evidently, he was no monster or ghost.

Before Pei Xiunian could ponder further, the servant began to close the door with a creak, muttering, “It’s late. Who knows if you’re thieves. Besides, madam and master are asleep—I can’t report to anyone.”

Xiao Qin pressed urgently, “Our attire shows we aren’t thieves. Besides, the manor’s door was unlocked; had we wished to sneak in, we wouldn’t have waited for you. Tomorrow, when the money house opens, my brother and I will surely return to thank Master Cao.”

With that, the servant glanced at the pair through the crack in the door. Their clothing clearly marked them as wealthy, but not officials, or else they’d have stayed at a postal inn. After a moment’s inspection, he hesitantly opened the door, yawning again, and led them down the manor’s path.

On either side, the rice fields were barren, harvested clean in the early winter, leaving only yellow stalks and the heavy scent of rice in the wind. Amid the remnants, new shoots emerged from the old, withered stems.

After a short walk, the servant brought them to a vacant guest room. At the door, he handed them a key and, as if reciting a guest protocol, reminded them, “I can’t decide anything—rest here for now. Tomorrow morning, I’ll inform master and madam. Master Cao is reasonable; I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“All the amenities are provided—candles, clean water. It’s late, so rest early.”

Xiao Qin nodded slightly, “Thank you.”

She opened the door; a faint fragrance wafted out, subtle and almost undetectable, like a sleep-inducing incense. Without much thought, Xiao Qin picked up the fire striker prepared by the table and lit the candle. The bright flame licked the wax, illuminating the clean and tidy room with a soft yellow glow. Two beds faced each other across a table; even regular inns rarely offered such comfort.

After helping Pei Xiunian with his coat and washing, Xiao Qin was about to remove her embroidered shoes and climb into bed when a sudden drowsiness overwhelmed her. A difficult fatigue invaded her mind, her eyes fluttered, and her body went limp.

She hadn’t passed out—though the poison was potent, Xiao Qin, a cultivator at the fourth stage of pill formation, wouldn’t succumb so easily. She’d just begun to regulate her inner energy when Pei Xiunian pressed his hand over her mouth and tackled her. His voice was close at her ear:

“Don’t move… Don’t speak. Just focus on your breathing. No matter what happens, unless I instruct you, don’t act rashly. We’re in a dangerous place; we’ll have to take things one step at a time.”

A sense of shame welled up within her—half from being so intimately pressed by Pei Xiunian, and half from the embarrassment of needing his reminder despite her cultivation. Her cheeks flushed faintly; after a gentle nod, she exhaled slowly and smoothed the chaos within her.

She had just said, at worst, she’d serve as a retainer, but now she truly resembled a maid serving at the bedside… Yet the poison was expertly administered: the rice scent outside, the incense within, and the flavorless candle together formed a powerful drug. Ordinary people would have collapsed long ago, but Pei Xiunian had no cultivation—how did he resist the combined effects?

Once Xiao Qin was calm, Pei Xiunian closed his eyes, released her, seemed to grasp something from his spatial pouch, then rested his clenched hand casually on her waist.

With enhanced hearing, Pei Xiunian caught footsteps in the corridor… and whispered conversations.

A soft, alluring woman’s voice asked, “So late, and visitors still arrive?”

The servant’s unfamiliar voice replied, “A band of thieves and a pair of wealthy siblings seeking lodging. The thieves have already been captured and fed to the master; the siblings were just sent to the guest room. It’s been quiet since, so I guessed they’re likely unconscious and hurried to inform you, madam.”

“Are you not afraid they’re righteous cultivators?” the gentle voice pressed.

“Doesn’t seem so,” the servant replied. “They look inexperienced, young and naive, showing their wealthy status openly, and their clothes aren’t those of high officials.”

The woman laughed, “Smart of you. You’ve done well tonight. Go now; come to my room tomorrow night for your reward.”

“Thank you, madam! Thank you!” The sound of kowtows echoed, footsteps crossed, one pair departing, another approaching.

The lock clicked, and with a creak, the door opened.