Turning Point

In the deep of night, upon reaching the town, Li Xintian and Hu Qiuyan parted ways with Hu Xiaoqiu’s wedding procession.

“Yin energy?” The moment Li Xintian passed by a distillery, he sensed the presence of Yin energy and immediately gave chase.

“Wait for me!” Hu Qiuyan, seeing Li Xintian dash ahead, hurried after him.

Li Xintian leapt onto the two-meter-high wall of the distillery, crouched atop it, and made a shushing gesture at Hu Qiuyan as she climbed up after him.

Below, they saw two young men—one plump, one tall—dressed in yellow Taoist robes. Nearby, a middle-aged man lay on a long bench, puffing on a tobacco pipe.

Before them stood a coffin, candles lit atop it, offerings arranged neatly.

Just then, the plump young man jabbed the tall young man’s foot with a wooden sword, muttering, “Hurry up and pretend to be possessed.”

The tall young man let out a wail and immediately fell into character, dancing and moving about.

“Who goes there? State your name!” The plump young man, seeing his companion’s performance, gave a slight chuckle, closed his eyes, and called out.

“Chen’s Little Hong,” the tall young man replied, flailing his arms and legs as he acted.

“Why does your soul linger, haunting the living?” the plump young man demanded.

The tall one froze, breaking character, and sidled over to his companion, whispering, “How am I supposed to answer that? Ask something simpler, or I’ll blow our cover.”

“If there’s something difficult to speak of, just say it,” the plump young man replied, unfazed.

“I really can’t say it, senior brother. Give me some easier lines,” the tall young man whispered, circling behind his companion before returning to his side.

“Let’s go; it seems I was being overly suspicious,” Li Xintian whispered to Hu Qiuyan, having realized the two were merely acting.

“If you want to leave, go ahead. I find this quite entertaining,” Hu Qiuyan was absorbed in the play and had no intention of leaving with Li Xintian.

“Chen, do you harbor grievances?” the plump young man asked.

Just as Li Xintian was about to leave, he sensed a surge of Yin energy, froze, and resumed his position on the wall.

“Didn’t you say you were leaving? Now’s when the real show begins,” Hu Qiuyan whispered when she saw him return to his perch.

“Shh!” Li Xintian made a shushing gesture, embarrassed. Hu Qiuyan fell silent and continued watching, even pressing her hand on Li Xintian’s shoulder to keep him from interrupting the show.

“Yes, I died with grievous injustice!” A voice echoed from behind the plump young man.

The tall young man stopped moving, eyes wide, staring at the coffin. There, a young woman with a ghostly pale face, robed in red, rose from the coffin without a sound.

“Did you die unwillingly?” the plump young man asked, eyes still closed.

The middle-aged man at the altar opened his eyes wide at the sight of the red-robed ghost, so terrified he dropped his pipe. His bench overturned as he scrambled beneath the tea table, peeking out in horror.

“Very well, tell me your story,” the plump young man said.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. From the age of fourteen, I was violated by him,” the red-robed ghost drifted from the coffin as she spoke, slowly drawing nearer to the plump young man’s back.

“Beast!” the plump young man cursed.

“When my parents confronted him, he killed them,” the red-robed ghost continued, inching closer.

The tall young man, seeing her approach, retreated in panic.

“He possessed me for years,” the red-robed ghost went on.

“No humanity at all!” the plump young man, still unaware of the horror behind him, exclaimed.

“When I was sixteen, he took a new lover and framed me,” the red-robed ghost said, floating ever closer.

“Vile! He’s not even human!” the plump young man continued, eyes shut, oblivious to the ghost now right behind him.

Li Xintian was about to intervene, but Hu Qiuyan held him back.

“Don’t act yet. I want to see how that plump one reacts,” Hu Qiuyan whispered, curious about his expression.

“He even falsely accused me of adultery and drowned me as an excuse. I died so unjustly!” The red-robed ghost ceased drifting, her voice chilling as she hovered just behind the plump young man.

“You’re getting more and more outrageous—who would believe such nonsense?” The plump young man, thinking his companion was improvising, complained with his eyes closed, unaware the ghost was right behind him.

Sensing danger, the tall young man scrambled to the altar.

With no one responding, the plump young man opened his eyes and found himself alone. “Where is everyone?” he muttered, glancing around. Upon turning, he was met face-to-face with the pale, red-robed ghost. His face turned ashen, and he shrieked, stumbling back.

“You even brought others to torment me!” The red-robed ghost turned her gaze on the middle-aged man cowering beneath the tea table.

“It wasn’t my fault!” the middle-aged man waved his hands in terror, his face contorted in fright.

With a final scream, the man died on the spot from sheer terror as the ghost approached.

Li Xintian, watching for murderous intent, was just about to act; but before he could, the man died of fright. With a sigh, Li Xintian thought, “He brought this upon himself.”

Even if saved, the man would likely have died violently anyway—violating her at fourteen, murdering her parents, holding her captive for years, then betraying her, framing her, and drowning her alive. Li Xintian himself felt the urge to strike him.

Seeing the man’s death, the tall young man climbed down from the altar and found the plump young man still in shock.

“Let’s go!” The tall one tugged at his companion.

Both screamed, fleeing as the red-robed ghost soared after them.

Speeding up, the ghost blocked their path in mid-air.

“It wasn’t our fault!” they cried.

“Did you take money for this?” the ghost demanded.

“No, no, no!” they shook their heads vehemently.

“Yes, yes, yes…” the tall one contradicted.

“You tried to shatter my soul; now I’ll take your lives!” the red-robed ghost raged.

“I’ll handle this!” Hu Qiuyan declared, seeing they were in danger, and signaled to Li Xintian.

“I’ll do it,” Li Xintian stopped her, swiftly inscribing the character for ‘righteousness’ with his pen and striking the ghost.

With a wail, the red-robed ghost was struck by righteous energy, transformed into white smoke, and vanished into the sky.

“Hmph, beaten to it again,” Hu Qiuyan pouted.

“They’re coming over,” Li Xintian remarked as the two approached.

“I am Yu Yuanhai, senior disciple of the True Transmission Taoist Temple. Thank you, miss, for saving our lives. May I ask your name?” Yu Yuanhai, the plump young man, was the first to speak.

“I am Cao Shijie, second disciple of the True Transmission Taoist Temple. Thank you for saving us,” the tall young man, Cao Shijie, added, nudging Yu Yuanhai.

Both ignored Li Xintian completely.

Seeing this, Hu Qiuyan smiled, noting Li Xintian’s calm demeanor despite being overlooked. “It was nothing, don’t mention it,” she replied, introducing Li Xintian and then herself.

“Oh!” the two replied in unison. It was clear from their eyes that the beautiful woman was fond of Li Xintian, and they felt the story had ended before it began.

“If you ever have the chance, please visit our True Transmission Taoist Temple,” Yu Yuanhai offered. The two then took their leave to clean up the altar, resolving after this incident to return and study their craft with renewed diligence.

“I thought you’d be upset, but you didn’t even say a word to them,” Hu Qiuyan said with a laugh.

“They were rude first; what’s there to say?” Li Xintian replied irritably. He had been the one to save them, yet they fawned over a pretty face—how realistic of them. Still, Li Xintian considered himself even more so.

“Let’s go.” Li Xintian jumped down from the wall and left, Hu Qiuyan following with a smile.

Together, man and fox found a place to stay, paid a high price for comfort, and rested well for the night.

The next day, they heard that the groom in town had fled the wedding, and the bride, in a fit of rage, had flown off into the sky, sparking heated debate among the townsfolk. Some refused to believe it; others claimed they’d seen it with their own eyes. Arguments broke out, voices raised, for who could believe such a thing when everyone was asleep in the dead of night?

Ancient tomb.

Returning to the rear mountain of the ancient tomb, Bai Lingjun found an old woman awaiting her.

“Master, what’s wrong?” Bai Lingjun hurried forward to find her master frail and on the verge of death.

“Jun’er, my time has come,” the head of the ancient tomb said weakly.

“How could this be?” Bai Lingjun asked, heartbroken.

“This time, I tried to use the secrets of fate to find an opportunity to help our ancient tomb survive its calamity. But the backlash was too severe—I cannot recover. If Xiaoqiu’s marriage meets with misfortune and cannot be consummated, remember to kill her before the fourteenth of the seventh month. Promise me,” the sect leader said, grasping Bai Lingjun’s hand.

“Master, I promise,” Bai Lingjun wept.

Hearing her promise, the sect leader’s head slumped, and she died, dissolving into blue light—vanishing without leaving even a corpse.

“Master!” Bai Lingjun cried out in anguish.

“Senior sister, what happened?” Two of Bai Lingjun’s junior sisters burst in—one slender and beautiful, the other quite plump and eating as she spoke.

“Master is gone,” Bai Lingjun said, wiping away her tears.

“Our master had a thousand years of cultivation—how could this happen?” Yan Wenyan, Bai Lingjun’s third junior sister, protested.

“That’s right!” agreed Fu Meimei, the youngest, nodding as she ate.

“Don’t dwell on it. Return to your meditation,” Bai Lingjun said, seeing their disbelief and not wanting to add to their sorrow.