Chapter 113 – Undercurrents

The moonlight remained bright, its silvery glow casting dappled shadows on the dense tree canopy. The weeds on the ground were tall, nearly obscuring the rugged dirt path. The scent of decaying vegetation wafted from the distance, accompanied by the rustling of grass stems in the wind. It wasn’t a pleasant scene, but it was familiar. Zhang Xiuqi coldly surveyed the landscape before him and took a step forward, heading deeper into the thicket. This was the Forbidden Land of Heming Mountain, the place where his father had died and his mother’s soul had scattered to the winds…

Zhang Xiuqi knew he was dreaming. Ever since recovering his Heavenly Soul, he had been haunted by this memory every night. From the initial confusion to the later clarity and pain, each dream was accompanied by suffering and anger. Yet, he never stopped, not even once. The things in dreams were not necessarily real, but they were not entirely illusory either. Some memories were deeply etched in his mind, but back then, he had been too young to understand what had happened. Now, he had enough knowledge to trace the clues and find the beast who had killed his father.

So Zhang Xiuqi didn’t avoid it. Day after day, he wandered in this desolate forest, watching the yin spirits erupt, watching how his younger self had been torn apart by malevolent ghosts, and how his father had hidden him in a cave. It wasn’t like a nightmare but rather an endless torment, repeatedly tearing open old wounds, leaving them bleeding. He couldn’t stop.

Stumbling through the Forbidden Land, the path to the Yellow Springs had fully opened. The frenzied ghosts were shrieking. Zhang Xiuqi had exhausted all his strength to escape. The ghostly claws, carrying the aura of death, tore through his back, and blood dripped from his arms. At this point, a warm hand would usually grab him, pulling him out of that hell. But today, something was different. The waiting hand didn’t appear. He plunged into an even colder darkness, where there was no light, no wailing, no stench of decay or yin wind—only a chaotic black mist.

What was happening? Zhang Xiuqi hesitated for a moment. He didn’t remember this happening before. But soon, a warm hand touched his. It wasn’t very large, about the size of his own palm, with smoother skin and none of the familiar calluses. It was warm and firm, grasping his hand. A warmth spread from the base of his thumb, calming his heart and driving away the anger and fear. He liked this hand. But in just a moment, Zhang Xiuqi jolted awake. He was still being chased by the ghosts, still about to be surrounded by the formation. He couldn’t drag him into this mess!

But he couldn’t let go of that hand.

The darkness suddenly vanished, and the dense forest returned. But this time, Zhang Xiuqi’s path wasn’t empty. At his feet lay a person, their black hair disheveled over their forehead, hiding those once lively eyes. Their lips were deathly pale, and there were a few scratch marks on their face. A massive gash had been torn open across their chest and abdomen. He had experienced such a wound before and knew how much it hurt. But this time, the pain felt unbearable, as if it would split him in two.

He was still holding that hand, but its warmth was rapidly fading, turning cold and stiff, lifeless.

He shouldn’t have held on!

Zhang Xiuqi woke up, drenched in cold sweat. It took him a moment to realize he wasn’t in that dense forest but in a bedroom. The sound of soft breathing echoed behind him, as if someone was deep in sleep. The sound calmed him, and then the images from the dream flooded his mind, as if triggered. Zhang Xiuqi abruptly sat up and walked out of the room without looking back.

When Wei Yang woke up, the sun was already high in the sky, its warm rays streaming in and making his skin feel hot. He must have slept for half the day. He seemed to have dreamed something, but the long sleep had erased it from his memory. Turning to look beside him, the other half of the bed was already empty, not even a trace of warmth left. Wei Yang scratched his head in frustration. This lack of energy was really troublesome—what a waste of an opportunity!

But there was no use dwelling on it. Sighing, Wei Yang climbed out of bed. Honestly, it felt a bit strange. In the past, even if the Little Celestial Master woke up earlier, he would obediently wait by the bed for food. But now, it seemed he no longer needed anyone to take care of his meals.

Feeling a deep sense of loss, Wei Yang even glanced at the balcony and noticed that even Lao Ye was gone. He sighed, lamenting that his role as a caretaker might be coming to an end. Dejectedly slipping on his slippers, he walked out. To his surprise, as soon as he stepped out, he saw Zhang Xiuqi walking over from the dining table, as if he had just finished breakfast.

“Brother Qi!” Wei Yang’s face immediately lit up with a smile. “You’ve already had breakfast? Where’s Master Zeng?”

“He had something to attend to,” Zhang Xiuqi replied with his usual cold expression, showing no intention of engaging in conversation as he brushed past Wei Yang and walked into the study.

Wei Yang sighed helplessly and shuffled over to the dining table. There were some leftover fried dough sticks and a small plate of pickles on the table, probably bought from a breakfast stall outside the neighborhood. But aside from that, there was also a white takeout bowl. Curious, Wei Yang opened it and found a bowl of pork liver congee inside, thick and still slightly warm, as if it had just been delivered. It was only then that Wei Yang realized something was off. It was already almost ten o’clock—Brother Qi couldn’t have just finished breakfast. Did he order this congee just now?

The thought made Wei Yang’s heart warm. Although he knew it was likely Master Zeng’s doing, he quickly sat down at the table, forgetting even to wash up, and started eating. The taste reminded him of Xuanli Lou, where he often ordered porridge and soup. He hadn’t expected Master Zeng to find their takeout menu…

Wait a minute—was it really Master Zeng who found the menu? Wei Yang paused mid-sip and glanced toward the study. He had been ordering takeout for years, and there were plenty of menus stored at home. How had Master Zeng so coincidentally chosen this one? Could it have been Brother Qi’s idea?

The thought made Wei Yang chuckle wryly. Alright, he shouldn’t delude himself. If the Great Derivative True Technique could still be considered “important,” this takeout menu definitely wasn’t in the same category. There was no point in overthinking it. He had already tricked the man into coming home and sharing a bed—there would be plenty of opportunities in the future. He wasn’t afraid to try again.

Smiling, Wei Yang stopped hesitating and quickly finished his meal.

After filling his stomach, he sat at the table for a while, lost in thought. Eventually, he couldn’t resist the temptation of having the “parents” away and got up to head to the study. Hesitating for a couple of seconds between knocking and not, he simply pushed the door open and walked in.

Zhang Xiuqi was sitting at the desk, seemingly mixing cinnabar for drawing talismans. There were several bottles and jars scattered around, and it was unclear how far along he was in the process. The sound of Wei Yang entering caused his hand to pause briefly, but he didn’t look up, continuing his task. Wei Yang didn’t dare disturb him at this moment. After glancing over from a distance, he pretended to walk over to the bookshelf, pulled out the talisman basics book Master Zeng had given him, and sat on the small bed to read.

Although he was ostensibly reading, most of the little swindler’s attention was on Zhang Xiuqi. He watched as the man methodically mixed the contents of several bottles, then took a short sword and lightly cut his fingertip, squeezing a few drops of blood into the cinnabar. The sight made Wei Yang frown. Remembering that it might require the blood of a virgin as a catalyst, he thought of what Master Zeng had said and coughed lightly, interjecting, “Brother Qi, my witch blood might be useful too, right? Why not try using my blood to mix the cinnabar?”

Zhang Xiuqi’s hand paused mid-air for a few seconds before he coldly replied, “No.”

“Uh, well, didn’t Master Zeng say…”

Before Wei Yang could finish, Zhang Xiuqi cut him off, “The effects of witch blood are unclear. It cannot be mixed into these talismans.”

This effectively shut Wei Yang down. But soon, he tried again, “Then maybe I could try it on my own? I’ve practiced a few things from this talisman basics book before, and they seemed to work. I haven’t drawn any in a few days, and my hand is getting rusty.”

“No!” Zhang Xiuqi’s tone was even colder, outright rejecting the idea.

Wei Yang was left speechless. He absentmindedly flipped through the pages of the book, wondering if he should secretly practice drawing talismans. But then Zhang Xiuqi spoke again, “Your energy is depleted. You cannot use any talismans or ritual instruments for half a month.”

There was such a rule? Wei Yang immediately looked up, only to meet Zhang Xiuqi’s gaze. Perhaps not expecting him to look over, Zhang Xiuqi’s brows twitched slightly, and he quickly averted his eyes. Wei Yang blinked. Was that a trick of the light? He thought he saw something else in Brother Qi’s eyes.

Feeling emboldened, the little swindler quickly chimed in, “I really didn’t know that. It seems the Bone Formation isn’t easy to activate either—it needs time to build up energy… cough But it’s fine. We’ve got plenty of time. Once I’m back to normal, we can try again.”

This time, Zhang Xiuqi didn’t respond. Wei Yang wasn’t discouraged and continued, “By the way, Brother Qi, did you remember the Great Derivative True Technique on Lao Ye’s back? Cough I mean, it’s such a rare thing—I can’t forget it either. A lot happened during that trip back home. If it weren’t for your help, this body of mine might have been taken over by that fox. And that guy who used the Soul Doll—he must be connected to the two Jiangtou Masters we encountered at the hospital, right? I wonder how big their group is. Tsk tsk, if they find their way here, it could be trouble. Maybe we should move. We’ve got money now—we could start fresh in a city where no one knows us, or maybe go visit Longhu Mountain…”

He was getting carried away with his plans, but Zhang Xiuqi stopped what he was doing and coldly said, “Be quiet.”

Uh-oh. Seeing the Little Celestial Master’s slightly irritated expression, Wei Yang awkwardly shut his mouth. He must have been talking too much and disturbed his preparations. Sure enough, once he stopped talking, Zhang Xiuqi took a deep breath, grabbed a stack of yellow talisman paper, and laid it out in front of him, clearly about to start drawing talismans. Knowing this wasn’t the time to interrupt, Wei Yang thought for a moment, then got up and went to the kitchen. He boiled water in an electric kettle, dug out some treasured tea and a clay teapot, and carefully brewed a pot of tea. Carrying the teapot and cups, he returned to the study. Although he wasn’t particularly picky about food and drink, good food and tea always seemed to soften Brother Qi’s expression—it must be a preference of his.

But as he pushed open the study door, a soft pop sounded, like someone had thrown a small firecracker. Wei Yang was momentarily stunned before remembering that this was the sound of a talisman failing, known as a “talisman leak.” He had read about it in the book, but in all the times he’d seen Brother Qi draw talismans, he had never made a mistake before.

Zhang Xiuqi clearly hadn’t expected it either. He glared at the talisman paper with a dark expression, as if it had personally wronged him. Wei Yang quickly coughed, walked over to the table, and set down the teapot, saying softly, “Brother Qi, you’ve only just recovered your soul. It’s natural to need some time to adjust. Don’t get upset. Here, have some water and take a break.”

But Zhang Xiuqi seemed to completely ignore him. His hand gripping the brush was almost turning white from the force. Taking a deep breath, he picked up another sheet of talisman paper and began drawing again. Wei Yang had never seen this type of talisman before—it wasn’t in his “basic textbook”—so he didn’t dare disturb him. Carefully, he retreated to the bed and sat down. Logically, he should have left at this point to avoid being a distraction, but since no one was kicking him out, he couldn’t bring himself to miss this chance to share a room with Brother Qi.

This time, the drawing seemed to go more smoothly. After a long while, Zhang Xiuqi finally lifted his wrist, and a faint green light glowed on the talisman. Wei Yang perked up, knowing that it was a success. But before he could say anything, Zhang Xiuqi was already starting on another one, as if he were rushing to produce talismans. Wei Yang frowned, sensing that something was off, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. After thinking for a while without reaching a conclusion, he eventually let it go.

Perhaps the rhythmic monotony of drawing talismans was hypnotic, but after watching for a while, Wei Yang’s eyelids grew heavy again. He managed to hold on for a few more minutes before finally succumbing to sleep and collapsing onto the bed. The movement caused Zhang Xiuqi’s hand to pause briefly, but talisman drawing didn’t allow for distractions. Another crisp pop echoed in the study, and Zhang Xiuqi immediately pursed his lips, looking up at the bed. But Wei Yang showed no signs of waking, still deep in sleep.

Looking at the sleeping figure, Zhang Xiuqi exhaled softly. After a moment of hesitation, he picked up the teacup and took a sip. The cold tea seemed to soothe the faint flames smoldering in his chest. Setting the cup down, he picked up another sheet of talisman paper and began drawing again. There were no more sounds of talismans failing. In the quiet room, accompanied by the soft sound of breathing, Zhang Xiuqi’s expression seemed to grow calmer as the scratch of the brush against the paper filled the study.