TDSDE 19

19. Confirmed.

Bai Yuanxiu pressed on his own leg, then knocked on it twice with a clenched fist. “Didn’t wear enough clothes. A bit chilly.”

The middle-aged man nodded. “True enough, it’s just early spring—gets cold when the wind picks up at night.”

He was about to continue speaking when Bai Yuanxiu suddenly said, “How about this—can I rent it for just a month first?”

“Of course you can! But…” The man hesitated, then asked, “You’re not afraid of… that, are you?”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but Bai Yuanxiu knew what he meant. He quickly replied, “Of course I’m not afraid. Ghosts, monsters, whatever they are—I’ll cut them all down.”

The man was overjoyed, showered him with more flattery, and brought out a contract for Bai Yuanxiu to look over, explaining each clause with eager thoroughness.

Once Bai Yuanxiu had the contract in hand, he stepped through the gate and bolted the door shut behind him. Then he immediately crouched down, hugging his head.

His mind was full of all the stories he’d heard on the way—vengeful spirits weeping, shadowy ghosts drifting about. In broad daylight, the hair on his arms still stood on end.

He gave himself a pep talk. “It’s fine. It’s all fake.”

He repeated it to himself again and again, practically hypnotizing himself into calm, and found himself sorely missing the days when Xiao Qing had still been with him.

Bai Yuanxiu took a deep breath. He had to get to the bottom of everything as soon as possible. Once Xiao Qing woke up, the two of them could finally sit down and have a real talk.

He’d already made up his mind. He’d set his heart on Xiao Qing. If Xiao Qing was willing to start over, he’d pursue him all over again. And if he wasn’t…

Bai Yuanxiu shook his head and forcibly tossed that thought out of his mind.

If it came to that, he’d deal with it then. No point wasting time worrying about it now.

He stood in the sunlight a while longer, muttering under his breath, until he finally gathered the courage to step into the Zhai estate—once drenched in blood.

The estate really was impressive. The winding corridors were peaceful and elegant, a few rare and delicate orchids bloomed in the courtyard, and a small pavilion stood at the center of a pond, giving the illusion that one could walk right out over the still, green water.

Bai Yuanxiu looked around and found that aside from being too quiet, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with the place.

It was a big house. To keep it in this good condition must’ve taken a lot of effort from that property manager. But now that Bai Yuanxiu had moved in, there was no guarantee it would stay this clean.

After all, he wasn’t here to live in it—just to investigate. If possible, Bai Yuanxiu hoped to get to the bottom of everything today. But that clearly wasn’t going to happen.

As night fell, he felt a little tense. He was half-expecting to turn around at any moment and see a ghost with a long tongue dangling in front of him.

But fear was exhausting too. He was already tired from the journey, and before long, he was asleep with his sword in his arms.

Nothing happened that night.

The next morning, Bai Yuanxiu got up early and went out. He’d heard there were a few families nearby who’d lived in Nanyang for almost a hundred years—perfect sources for information.

At first, the homeowner was wary, but the moment he heard Bai Yuanxiu’s name, his attitude flipped completely, becoming so warm that Bai Yuanxiu was almost overwhelmed.

Only after asking did he learn that about a year and a half ago, during a summer storm, Bai Yuanxiu had rescued a couple—and they turned out to be this man’s older brother and sister-in-law.

The older brother had also been a rogue cultivator. That spring, he and his wife had gone traveling as usual, but one got injured and the other fell ill.

Bai Yuanxiu had helped them find treatment. Supplies were scarce in that remote town, and when he learned they still had a long journey home, he’d even given them his carriage.

At the time, Bai Yuanxiu had thought nothing of it, just lending a hand. But to that family, it was a tremendous favor.

So when Bai Yuanxiu brought up the Zhai family massacre from sixteen years ago, the homeowner only hesitated a second before getting up, shutting all the windows and doors, and lowering his voice to speak in detail.

And Bai Yuanxiu widened his eyes at the very first thing he heard.

—The rumors were wrong. The Zhai family hadn’t been wiped out.

Back then, Master Zhai had been fabulously wealthy. Though merchants held little status and he wasn’t young anymore, plenty of families still scrambled to marry their daughters into the household.

All the girls offered were young and beautiful, but Master Zhai had eyes only for his wife, never once considering taking a concubine. Some people gossiped, of course, but behind his back, most agreed it showed rare devotion.

Madam Zhai had no children of her own for many years, so the couple adopted several children and raised them as their own. They were sincere in their care, and the household was happy.

But fate was cruel. Years later, the eldest son died during a sea cargo shipment. The second son was ambushed by a vengeful rival while traveling and lost an arm—he passed not long after.

That left only the youngest daughter.

Though a girl, she was smarter and more determined than most men. She quietly hired people to investigate—and discovered that her brothers’ deaths were no accident.

Two years later, Madam Zhai, against all odds, gave birth to a baby boy. The daughter, feeling her burden had been lifted, set out to avenge her brothers.

But she never returned.

Madam Zhai was devastated. She was old, and childbirth had already taken a toll on her. After her daughter’s disappearance, her health deteriorated rapidly from grief. Within a year—just after her infant son turned one—she passed away too.

But this was exactly where the problem lay.

Before the two adopted sons of the Zhai family met their ends, both had already married and had children of their own. Although these grandchildren weren’t blood-related to Master Zhai, he initially raised them as his heirs.

But later, Master Zhai had a biological child of his own—and his heart shifted.

The youngest son was frail from birth, so weak he couldn’t even stomach herbal medicine. He had to be treated daily with medicinal steam. Master Zhai spared no effort caring for the boy, but in the end, the child still didn’t make it to the age of three.

Master Zhai was devastated. He could no longer manage the family affairs and handed the estate and business over to his grandsons. A few days later, he passed away quietly in his sleep.

And so, the two children bearing the surname “Zhai” took control of the household—and began to squander everything in sight.

The estate grew larger and more extravagant, the number of concubines they took swelled, and eventually even their maternal relatives all moved in. Aside from their shared surname, the Zhai family bore little resemblance to its original legacy.

At this point, Bai Yuanxiu could already sense that something about the child’s death didn’t add up—and sure enough, the man sitting across from him went on: “There was a physician who once got drunk and let something slip. He said the boy’s face was dark and ashen—that he’d been poisoned.”

The man sighed. “After that massacre, those of us who’d lived in Nanyang long enough knew something was off.”

But what good was that, coming from a few commoners?

The officials at the time were afraid of taking responsibility. Not only did they avoid investigating properly—they even went around warning everyone to keep their mouths shut.

Those of them who knew the truth had only wanted justice for the poor Zhai boy, especially given how that whole thieving clan had taken over the estate. But once everyone in the household was dead, and the government clearly wasn’t going to do anything, they simply stopped talking about it.

Still, when you put the timeline together, the whole thing was suspicious.

Bai Yuanxiu couldn’t help asking, “So, when you said the family line hadn’t been cut off, you meant…?”

The middle-aged man took a sip of water and leaned in, lowering his voice mysteriously. “That young master didn’t die!”

Bai Yuanxiu’s eyes went wide. He grabbed the teapot and refilled the man’s cup. “He didn’t!? Tell me everything.”

“You remember that physician I mentioned?”

The man dropped his voice to a whisper, barely above a breath. “When he realized the boy had been poisoned, he suspected someone from inside the estate. So he found an opportunity to tell Master Zhai.”

Given the size and success of the Zhai family’s business, it was clear Master Zhai was no fool. Realizing he had little power left in his own household, he instructed the physician to declare the boy stricken with a strange, contagious illness.

A contagious corpse had to be reported to the authorities and burned immediately. Under that pretense, everything went off without a hitch—no one realized the boy’s body was a decoy.

That physician traveled often, so it wasn’t unusual when he left town. He simply waited for the official quarantine to lift, then quietly slipped out of the city with the unconscious young master. No one knew where they went.

The physician’s medical skills were renowned. Many martial artists and nobles sought him out. He’d once sworn that he would save the boy—and a man like him didn’t make promises lightly.

Though no one knew where they were now, the child carrying the bloodline of the Zhai family was most certainly still alive.

“So, are you saying that the Zhai family massacre might’ve been his doing?” Bai Yuanxiu asked, curious.

The middle-aged man chuckled. “How could that be? He was still a child back then. How could a little boy kill that many people in one night?”

Bai Yuanxiu glanced at the man, then asked about the details of the massacre itself.

But the killer had struck in the dead of night, and everything about the scene—the method, the aftermath—had been handled with a professional’s touch. No one in the surrounding homes had heard a sound. If it hadn’t been for a beggar knocking on the door for scraps the next day, the bodies inside might not have been found until the stench gave them away.

Though he hadn’t gotten much more concrete information, Bai Yuanxiu had still gained far more than he’d expected.

He bid farewell to the homeowner, stayed outside for the rest of the day, and only once the sky was fully dark did he time his move—leaping lightly onto the rooftop, slowing his breath, and waiting patiently.

Bai Yuanxiu might be afraid of ghosts, but after what that family had done, even if they were ghosts, they were far from innocent. He thought of something Xiao Qing had once said to him, and silently tightened his grip on the peachwood sword in his hand.

These past few days, he’d been playing the role of Hero Bai. But tonight—tonight, he wanted to try being a ghost-slaying exorcist.

There was no moon in the sky, so when a faint, fluttering corner of a robe drifted into his vision through the pitch-black night, it stood out sharp and clear.