Chapter 9

The secret path led straight to the rear mountain of Duan Shui Manor. By now, the wind and rain had intensified, striking the body like whip lashes.

The dim sky brought Ye Fusheng some small relief at least now no one could see his strained expression. Unfortunately, while his vision was clear, the cold rain had agitated his old leg injury again.

He frowned. From within the forest, a dozen or so figures emerged carrying umbrellas and raincloths, shouting as they rushed over.

At the head of the group was Xue Chanyi. Without a word, she quickly wrapped both Xie Wuyi and Xie Li in thick cloaks, securing them tightly before casting a glance at the others. Her eyes widened when she saw Chu Ximei.

“Master Chu… your eyes-?”

Tsk. What kind of treatment was that?

Ye Fusheng accepted an umbrella, feeling very much like a cabbage neglected in the field. Chu Ximei simply smiled, donned the cloak, and said nothing. It was Xie Wuyi who spoke:

“The wind is strong and rain fierce. Back to the manor first.”

With the command given, everyone fell into formation like stars around the moon, escorting them back in a disciplined fashion. The guards were all trained members of Duan Shui Manor not experts, but efficient and reliable.

Within minutes, the group of soaked “drowned rats” arrived at the main hall, startling Sun Minfeng so badly he spat out his tea.

He rushed over, shouting, “Master! Xue girl told me you ‘snuck out in the dead of night to chase some fun and ended up in a ditch’ turns out it’s true!”

Chu Ximei: “…”

Xue Chanyi: “That’s not what I-”

Ye Fusheng turned away, laughing, shoulders shaking.

That “Master” from Sun Minfeng blew Chu Ximei’s cover wide open few had seen the Lord of the Hundred Ghost Gate, but many knew the infamous Ghost Physician. And wherever that man went, grudges followed. His name alone was enough to draw curses or reverence.

So those cryptic negotiations between Chu Ximei and Xie Wuyi earlier? Now they made sense.

Sun Minfeng inspected Chu Ximei’s eyes, then checked his pulse. “You’re not dead and you’re not blind. Just patch it up and wear a salve wrap for three days.”

Chu Ximei marveled that he hadn’t killed this impudent servant yet—a true testament to his patience.

After cleaning up, Xie Wuyi casually sentenced Xie Li to hold a horse stance for one hour, then brought Chu Ximei and Sun Minfeng into his study.

Xie Li stood under the corridor, rigid as a board. Ye Fusheng, bored, sipped ginger soup and stayed by his side.

“Young Master,” he said between sips, “if you sink just a bit lower, you’d be the perfect image of ‘Flat Sands and Falling Goose’ stance.”

“… ”

“Your stance is shaky legs quivering. You catching chills or just wobbly by nature?”

“… ”

As he chuckled, Xue Chanyi passed by with a basin of water. Ye Fusheng straightened and glanced through the lantern light catching a glimpse of red in her hands.

“What’s that…?”

Startled, she instinctively shifted the basin behind her. Seeing Xie Li’s back was still turned, she relaxed and hurried off.

Ye Fusheng squinted at the direction she came from the closed doors of Xie Wuyi’s private room. That basin of water? Blood.

“Young Master, I’ll be right back don’t faint or anything, yeah?”

Without waiting for a reply, he trailed Xue Chanyi.

She dodged onlookers and dumped the blood water into a flowerbed, then wiped her hands with a cloth and entered the kitchen to fetch a food container.

Duan Shui Manor spanned a large estate, though now most of it stood empty. Xue Chanyi carried the box toward the rear courtyard. Ye Fusheng, warmed by soup and with his leg feeling better, silently followed her.

The weather autumn, bleak and cold made the place feel ghostly. Yet in the stillness, a single room glowed with candlelight. Two people stood on the veranda a guard and a mute maid.

Seeing Xue Chanyi, both bowed without speaking. She handed the food box to the maid. “Stew this another half-hour. Serve it hot.”

The maid responded in sign, then took it respectfully. Ye Fusheng, hiding in a tree, realized they were both mute.

Xue Chanyi knocked. A loud crash came from inside but she entered without pause, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Ye Fusheng moved like a shadow, crossing the rain-drenched yard and settling beside the window. He poked a hole in the paper screen.

Inside was dim no brazier, only one candle. Convenient for eavesdropping.

Everything in the room was finely made: sandalwood furniture, intricate décor far nicer than even Xie Li’s quarters. Xue Chanyi sat at the table, her usual fiery temperament gone. Her expression was calm, eerily so.

It was Xie Wuyi’s exact expression but on her, it looked like a vengeful ghost.

A man lay in bed. A broken medicine bowl lay on the ground, shards and dregs scattered.

“Master Ancestor, if you don’t take your medicine again, my master will worry.”

She rested her cheek in her palm, stunningly beautiful.

The man in bed stirred violently and tried to sit up, but rolled off instead cutting his hand on porcelain shards. A string of garbled, broken noises escaped his throat.

Another mute.

Ye Fusheng narrowed his eyes. The man was nearly sixty, hair like snow, body thin and brittle. Years ago, he’d seen this man stand tall and proud, wielding a blade none could rival.

The former master of Duan Shui Manor. Xie Wuyi’s father Xie Chongshan.

“Ay, you’re so careless. If Master finds out, he’ll scold me for not watching you properly.” Xue Chanyi smiled down at the struggling elder, her tone cold and sharp.

“No, wait he hasn’t come in almost a year. Now with life and death on the line, why would he bother with you?”

Xie Chongshan flailed, but his legs remained limp paralyzed. Ye Fusheng’s heart sank.

“He accepted the Challenge for the Blade. He actually dared.” Her voice trembled.

“And now he’s chosen… to unseal the pins.”

The old man froze.

She stared him down. “Don’t look at me like that. You chose this. The poison reached your lungs. Only through marrow-cleansing and blood-replacement could you survive. But he… chose unsealing.”

Her facade cracked half-laughing, half-crying. “Three years. Three years his inner strength has been sealed. And now he’s breaking the seals. He’s as good as dead!”

Xie Chongshan moaned in anguish. Xue Chanyi whispered, again and again, “Die. He’ll die.”

Her face contorted, flickering through emotion after emotion. Ye Fusheng shuddered.

He slipped away like a ghost in the storm, returning to the corridor where Xie Li still held his stance.

Coincidentally, Chu Ximei stepped out.

He now wore a white medicinal cloth across his face, its faint herbal scent carried by the wind. Keen-eared as ever, he turned as Ye Fusheng approached.

“Brother Ye.”

“Master Chu.”

Two clever men left the child behind and strolled into the night.

“Master Sun said I was getting in the way,” Chu Ximei said mildly. “Kicked me out. I thought the long night would be lonely but here you are.”

Ye Fusheng kicked aside a loose stone. “These servants too lazy to clean. Should be punished.”

Chu Ximei smiled. “How should I repay Brother Ye for such aid?”

Ye Fusheng grinned. “I fear only the King of Hell is qualified to be the Lord of Ghosts’ brother.”

“You have a question?”

“About Master Sun’s work.”

Chu Ximei nodded. “It’s no secret now. You’ve heard the rumors why the world believes Xie Wuyi lost his edge?”

“Only a toothless tiger invites wolves.”

“But what if it’s all true?”

Ye Fusheng raised a brow. “Go on.”

“Three years ago, Master Sun was invited to treat him. He found poison deep in his organs, and heavy injury on top. The only way to live was to abandon martial arts. But Xie Wuyi… chose death over disgrace.”

“So the doctor sealed his three major acupoints with golden needles locking the poison away. For seven years, he’d live, so long as the seals remained. But those points are essential for internal flow. He couldn’t use force without agony.”

Ye Fusheng’s gaze was unreadable. Chu Ximei continued:

“A month ago, Burial Soul Palace issued a challenge. He had Xue Chanyi summon the Ghost Physician. Initially, the doctor declined but I was intrigued by the Duan Shui Blade. So I said: trade the blade, and he’ll act again.”

“You think what failed before will succeed now?”

“Because of failure, he spent three years researching. Now, he has a method muscle transformation, blood exchange. He can draw the poison to his secondary meridians, extract it with needles, and swap in blood from a close relative.”

“And the donor?”

“The toxin is terminal. The blood required is massive. The donor… will die.”

Chu Ximei caught a few raindrops in his hand. “I thought he’d choose this. But instead, he asked for the pins to removed. With medicine, he might last seven days. But the poison… will kill him.”

So that’s it.

Ye Fusheng let out a long breath. Chu Ximei asked, “Your thoughts?”

“Everyone walks their own road. I’m just scratching an itch.”

He chuckled. “Thanks for the answer. I kicked a rock and got a truth fair deal.”

“If you’re willing, we could strike more deals. Ghost Gate has many rocks. Few with the courage to kick them.”

Ye Fusheng shrugged. “I’ve got a bad leg.”

“But that rock just now flew quite far.”

“Well, beauty inspires effort.”

“… ”

Ye Fusheng stopped joking and asked solemnly, “Will you stay for the Seven-Day Challenge?”

“I already know the ending. No point watching.”

“What will you do?”

“I took Xue girl’s silver. I’ll see the boy through these seven days with all limbs intact.”

“Then… until fate sees fit.”

At the corridor’s end, firelight gleamed. But one was blind, the other veiled. They clapped palms and passed by, hands touching briefly then gone.

As Ye Fusheng walked away, Chu Ximei’s smile faded. His lips pressed tight, blade-sharp.

Ye Fusheng was too much like him his tone, his grin, that maddening playfulness.

A month ago, Chu Ximei might have hesitated to part.

But he had visited Jinghan Pass. He had seen the shattered mountain wall. The lonely grave under the dead tree. The nameless stone.

He had opened that grave with his own hands. Seen the pale ashes in the box.

That towering figure from his youth now reduced to dust that fit in his palms.

He is dead.
No lookalike will ever replace him.
Chu Ximei was suddenly grateful he could no longer see. Otherwise, he might’ve looked back.

To look back for a shadow is the greatest betrayal of the dead.

Ye Fusheng.
A floating leaf.
A life adrift.
Like a candle snuffed by wind.
The dead are gone.
Let them go.