Chapter Three: Illusions in the Hot Springs

The slave unexpectedly pulled out a small piece of bamboo from somewhere. After blowing a tune on it, he tossed it aside. The bamboo began to root and sprout, and soon grew into a modest bamboo house. Obsidian pointed speechlessly at the bamboo house, which seemed to be about ten square meters, and looked at the slave with an expression reserved for fools. “Are you kidding me?”

The slave snorted coldly, looking back with the disdain of a countryman who has seen the world. Ding Ning coughed lightly and explained in a low voice, “Sir, this technique is called ‘Little Paradise.’ With a single object as a guide, one can create a small space or a miniature world of their desire. Any immortal with the slightest reputation who travels the world is fond of using such magic.”

At once, Obsidian understood. He had forgotten that this world was filled with demons and spirits; such minor spells were nothing extraordinary. Carrying Yan Nianqing in his arms, Obsidian entered the bamboo house, his curiosity piqued. Sure enough, the interior was a world of its own—neither too large nor too small—a veritable residence.

When Obsidian discovered a hot spring inside, along with a gathering of beautiful maids, he glanced at the slave with a meaningful look—he hadn't expected this fellow to be so skilled at enjoying life. Satisfied after inspecting the premises, Obsidian found a pleasant room and settled the sleeping Yan Nianqing in it.

In the front hall, Ding Ning spoke with some concern. “Sir, do you really intend for us to do nothing right now?”

Obsidian yawned. “Who said that? Of course you have things to do. Go and find out about the people who’ve seen those illusions. I want details: the times, the locations, anything unusual—even if it’s only an extra fly in the room, I want to know. Also, investigate what’s really going on with that government office.”

Ding Ning agreed, then asked, “And what will you be doing, sir?”

Obsidian looked surprised. “I’ll be lying in wait, of course. Just waiting for the prey to come to me.”

Ding Ning could only wipe away his sweat and leave without another word. But before he could go far, Obsidian called out, “Wait!”

Ding Ning hurried back. “Is there anything else, sir?”

Obsidian grinned, adopting a brotherly tone. “Are there any famous local specialties here? Bring some back for me!”

Ding Ning felt as if he had coughed up blood, but still smiled and agreed. He turned to walk away, but sure enough, Obsidian called him back again. “Wait!”

Ding Ning turned, “Anything else, sir?”

Obsidian waved him off. “Hurry up, and make sure you’re back in time for the meal.”

Ding Ning thought to himself that all of this could have been said at once.

With Ding Ning sent off to investigate and the slave assigned to prepare the meal, Obsidian found himself alone, as Yan Nianqing was still asleep. Bored, he thought there was no time like the present and decided to try the hot spring.

No sooner thought than done, Obsidian went to the hot spring, quickly stripped off his clothes, and immersed himself in the soothing water with a sigh of pure comfort.

Beside the hot spring stood a peach tree in full bloom, its petals occasionally drifting down, lending the scene a unique charm.

“Hehehe…”

Eyes closed, Obsidian was savoring this rare moment of leisure when a laugh suddenly reached his ears. He was certain he was alone by the spring, making the laughter all the more eerie.

Cautiously, he opened one eye and discovered an image had appeared above the hot spring.

It was like watching a movie—he could see and hear everything.

In the scene, two little boys chased and played, laughter ringing out—innocent and pure. The boy in blue held the hands of the boy in black and asked plaintively, “Brother, will we always be together?”

“We will,” his brother replied, smiling.

“Even for a lifetime?”

“Yes, for a lifetime.”

Strangely, the sudden apparition didn’t frighten Obsidian. Instead, he was drawn to the scene itself. The children's naive words stirred a trace of sorrow in his heart. Time flies and memories fade—who can truly keep the promises made in childhood?

The vision vanished as quickly as it came.

Yan Nianqing appeared out of nowhere, looking dazed. “Daddy, are you alright?” He had sensed a fluctuation in the space just now, but it had disappeared as suddenly as it came.

Obsidian snapped out of his thoughts and, seeing Yan Nianqing still half-asleep, couldn’t help but smile. “I’m fine, little Nian.”

After dressing and tidying himself, Obsidian took Yan Nianqing’s hand and led him to the front hall.

None of them noticed the shadow that flashed past.

In the front hall, the slave had finished preparing the meal and was serving rice. Ding Ning had returned and seemed to be organizing the information he had gathered.

Obsidian and Yan Nianqing sat down, and Ding Ning wasted no time in reporting his findings. “Master Wuchang, here’s what I’ve learned. Five people have been killed so far. Each victim saw a different illusion before they died. At first, people thought they’d all gone mad, but as the deaths mounted…”

Ding Ning gritted his teeth and continued, “The officials in the magistrate’s office haven’t done a thing, which has led to…”

Obsidian prompted, “Led to what?”

“Led to widespread panic, and the perpetrator has grown ever bolder. Our workload has increased as a result,” Ding Ning added, not hiding his frustration.

“What about the magistrate’s office?”

“The current administrator? He’s too busy doting on his wife to do anything. He’s notorious for being henpecked,” Ding Ning replied.

Obsidian sneered. “Then let’s see what this henpecked official is really made of.”

For a fleeting moment, the look and tone of Obsidian overlapped with someone in the slave’s memory, making him feel that Obsidian bore a trace of his former master.

Yan Nianqing, hearing this, gripped Obsidian’s hand in encouragement. “Daddy, you can do it.”

“Good boy…” Obsidian chuckled, ruffling Yan Nianqing’s hair.

What Obsidian hadn’t expected was that, before long, the “rabbit” he was waiting for would come to him.

The man’s name was said to be Qi Guanyan. Hearing the name, Obsidian couldn’t help but sigh at the designs of fate.

Qi Guanyan had wasted away in just a few days—his face drawn and sallow, his eyes vacant, as if he’d suffered a tremendous blow.

Without a word, Qi Guanyan fell to his knees and bowed three times. “Sir, please save me, please save…”

Before he could finish, he collapsed in a faint.

Obsidian had no choice but to instruct the slave to look after him. But the slave said the man already bore the marks of death and had only a few days left. This made Obsidian think of that woman. Though she was a bit shrewish, it was clear the couple was deeply in love. If anything happened to him, she probably wouldn’t survive alone. For reasons he couldn’t explain, Obsidian let out a sigh, and the face of Yama appeared unbidden in his mind.

Startled by his own thoughts, Obsidian hastened into his room to sleep, wondering if he might have been bewitched.