Reaching out, Shen Wei pinched the strand out of the air. Back in his palm, it broke into several pieces. He confessed his crimes freely. “This is the mark. All along, Ghost Face had been challenging the relationship between you, me, and the Netherworld. Without a wick in the Soul-Guarding Lamp, the Netherworld would descend into panic if the Great Seal broke early, and they would undoubtedly try to take your heart’s blood by force. By that point, the Netherworld and I would’ve inevitably fallen out, giving Ghost Face the opportunity to strengthen the gui to break out of the Great Seal. Therefore, I knew he would try to collect the power of Chaos to falsely give the Seal the appearance of breaking.”
Zhao Yunlan nodded. “I should’ve realized when you split the ground open at the resort. You are the keeper of the Great Seal. If even I could tell that it was only a Ghost Army Summons, and not the Great Seal actually shattering, how could you not know? You knew from the very beginning that Ghost Face was up to no good, but you still let him skewer you with an icicle. What is wrong with you?”
Shen Wei said nothing.
“Don’t play dead! Answer me!”
“At the time, I…” Shen Wei hesitated. Pitifully, he tried again. “I…”
Zhao Yunlan interrupted him. “As the keeper of the Seal, of course you could tell whether it was really broken. That meant you had to let him get the drop on you, and you had to go missing, all so the Netherworld and everyone affected by the shards of Chaos would be thrown into a frenzy. Along the way, I bet you made sure to tell Ghost Face that he’d fallen for all your schemes. Given how suspicious and paranoid he is, he would’ve thought that meant something was up with the bit of Chaos you took. He would’ve had to come check it out, running smack into the Netherworld officials and various immortals out there, right? All your little redirects sure worked out well for you, huh?”
Eavesdropping off to the side, Lin Jing finally understood. “So that’s what happened,” he muttered.
Zhao Yunlan gave a cold laugh. “My lord truly took everything into—”
Before he finished the sentence, Shen Wei disappeared. Zhao Yunlan had the unmistakable sense of someone invisibly drawing closer. Unseen hands pressed against the rocky wall on either side of his body. Then an icy hand closed around his fist. Still invisible, Shen Wei murmured in his ear. “I’m right here. If you’re upset, then hit me. I won’t evade it.”
Though Zhao Yunlan flung his hand off, before he could walk away, Shen Wei grabbed him tightly, pinning him against the rough wall.
“Let go!” Zhao Yunlan demanded. He twisted to one side and pushed, only to hear Shen Wei let out a muffled noise of pain. Belatedly remembering Shen Wei’s chest wound, Zhao Yunlan immediately stopped shoving and felt for Shen Wei’s chest, touching the dried crust of blood on his clothes. “You—”
Shen Wei’s hand closed over Zhao Yunlan’s, pressing it into his chest.
Zhao Yunlan took a deep breath. He looked back at the lifeless Soul-Guarding Lamp, floating above the water, and his face went blank as he slowly pulled his hand from Shen Wei’s grasp. He turned to Lin Jing and Zhu Hong. “The Soul-Executing Emissary doesn’t miscalculate. He has everything under control, and the Great Seal is still holding up. We’re done here. Let’s go. We’ve got to put in overtime and write up a report.”
Having been forced to witness his boss’s continuing cold war with his spouse, Lin Jing felt incredibly awkward. He took his best stab at cracking a joke. “We just got back to work and we’re already doing overtime? It’ll be the Longtaitou Festival soon, so aren’t we gonna get any gifts?”
“Sure,” Zhao Yunlan said, not batting an eye. “Everyone’s getting ten kilos of monk meat.”
Lin Jing slapped himself in the face. “Amitabha, why did I say anything?”
Suddenly, Zhu Hong spoke up. “Director Zhao, I have to stay. My fourth uncle is still here.”
“Oh.” Zhao Yunlan considered that. It seemed reasonable, so he nodded. “Okay. Just keep your distance from the action and be careful.”
Without a backward glance, he left with Lin Jing.
Zhu Hong watched them go. They worked well together, stealthily leaving the battlefield by skirting its edges and not drawing attention to themselves. Finally, she let out a breath of relief, then tentatively addressed the empty air beside her. “Lord Emissary…? Are you still there?”
“What is it?” asked a desolate male voice.
Zhu Hong was momentarily speechless, then jumped up. “Why are you still here?”
After a silence, Shen Wei quietly asked, “Where am I supposed to go?”
Incredulous, Zhu Hong said, “Why didn’t you leave with them?”
Shen Wei fell silent again.
“Lord Emissary?” she called out. “Shen-laoshi? Hello? Hello, hello? Can you hear me? Are you still there?”
“He…probably doesn’t want me to follow him.” Shen Wei’s voice came from below the Soul-Guarding Lamp. Zhu Hong couldn’t help taking a few steps toward him, only to hear, “He said if I lied to him again, he’d be truly angry with me.”
“You’ve lied to him?” she exclaimed, eyes wide and mouth agape. Then, without waiting for an answer, she shook the thought from her head. “No, never mind that. The point is, you believed him?”
Shen Wei, hiding behind the lamp, wasn’t afraid of being seen. He allowed a hazy silhouette of himself to become visible. The look he gave Zhu Hong was a little lost.
Zhu Hong heaved a sigh. “Look, I’m not the brightest. I don’t understand what you guys are plotting half the time. Those conspiracies all seem very cool, but Zhao Yunlan has threatened to make stew out of Daqing at least ninety-nine times, if not a hundred by now. And yet that stupid cat is still living his best life, isn’t he? Just getting fatter all the time?”
In her wildest dreams, Zhu Hong never dared imagine being the one to teach the Soul-Executing Emissary a lesson like this—the Emissary, the love rival she couldn’t win against. The thought both pleased her and made her jealous. “I arrived just in time to see Ghost Face drag you off, and I can tell you, he looked like he wanted to cut Ghost Face into a million pieces. After all these years around him, I can tell at a single glance if he’s genuinely angry or if it’s just his temper flaring up. Why do you think he’s angry? Because you hid things from him? Because you lied to him? Shen Wei, I really think… Never mind, I’m not thinking about it, not that I dare to—but I mean, if you ran away from home and worried your mother sick, and she slapped you a couple of times after you were found, wouldn’t you deserve that?”
Bewildered, Shen Wei just stared back at her. The two of them looked at each other for a while, and then Zhu Hong abruptly turned away. “Sorry,” she said stiffly. “I forgot you don’t have a mom.”
“It’s all right,” said Shen Wei.
Zhu Hong had no idea how to respond. There was an awkward silence between them until, after a while, Shen Wei suddenly spoke again. “You… You care deeply for him, don’t you?”
The question made Zhu Hong feel as if something had been stuffed into her heart. “Yeah,” she mumbled.
“Then… Then why did you tell me all this?”
Zhu Hong rolled her eyes. “I just want you to stop upsetting him.”
Confusion flickered across Shen Wei’s face for just a second. He seemed somewhat distracted. His brows knit together, and the glittering water of the pool beneath the Soul-Guarding Lamp reflected in his eyes. Zhu Hong had just about concluded that his soul had drifted away when he finally looked back and nodded at her.
“You’re right,” he said sincerely. “Many thanks.”
Standing up, Shen Wei made himself invisible once again. Zhu Hong heard his footsteps approach, and then he said, “Miss Zhu, please give me your hand.”