The person most suited to do this was Jiang Yexue.
Therefore, without any delay, Mo Xi immediately hurried toward the Cixin Refinery Shop.
By this time, the night was already deep and dark. The Cixin Refinery Shop was also located far away from the busy streets, so he did not encounter many people along the way.
Halfway there, a carriage came rumbling through the cold mist from afar. As it drew closer, he could see the vermilion lacquer seal of a bat painted upon it. Golden bells hung from the four corners of the ornate canopy, chiming crisply as the wheels turned.
The coachman had his head wrapped in a cloth headscarf, his sleeves tied back as he raised his whip and lashed the rump of the Golden-Winged Snow-Drifting Horse.
“Lord Wangshu is passing through! Make way at once—”
Mo Xi frowned slightly.
Murong Lian?
At this hour, where was he going?
Before he could think much about it, the carriage had already sped up beside him. The night was too dark for the coachman to see Mo Xi’s face, and he continued shouting at the top of his lungs:
“Move aside, move aside! Don’t block Lord Wangshu’s path!”
Mo Xi stepped aside. A man nearby pulled his wife to the side as well, lowering his head respectfully and waiting for Murong Lian’s carriage to pass.
Then, once it had gone, disgust appeared openly on his face. He spat softly:
“Making such a racket to clear the road in the middle of the night. ‘Make way, make way’—tch, does he expect ghosts to move aside for him? How many people are even on the road? What a damn nuisance!”
Mo Xi sighed inwardly.
Murong Lian really was a spoiled young master. No wonder no one liked him.
However, Mo Xi looked back at the carriage speeding away into the distance, and he vaguely felt that something was strange.
Murong Lian was extremely lazy. He never got out of bed until the sun was high in the sky, and unless he had something to do, he absolutely would not leave the house.
What was going on today…?
The carriage from Wangshu Residence soon disappeared around the corner.
Mo Xi’s eyelids twitched twice. For some reason, he felt a faint sense of unease.
But he had something extremely important to do at this moment. Besides, he had never been someone who placed much faith in intuition, so he did not dwell on it.
He turned around, walking in the opposite direction from Murong Lian’s carriage, and continued forward.
Outside the Cixin Refinery Shop.
“Ah…”
Old Uncle Song, his eyesight blurred with age, opened the door. Under the clear moonlight, he saw Mo Xi’s face illuminated by the moon and stared blankly for a while before saying,
“It’s Young Master Mo…”
Mo Xi asked, “Is Elder Qingxu here?”
“Yexue?”
Old Shopkeeper Song coughed twice, his voice thick with phlegm.
“Yexue isn’t at the shop tonight. He said he had something to do and went out for a stroll.”
The old man was getting on in years and rambled when he spoke. After saying that, he happily added,
“He also said he’d bring me some pastries from Lianhua Workshop tomorrow morning. That child is filial. He knows that their osmanthus flower cakes are the best. I—”
If he let the old man continue rambling, there would be no end to it.
Mo Xi could only interrupt him.
“Old Uncle, I have something urgent to discuss with him. Do you know where he went?”
The old man smiled broadly.
“I know, of course I know. He went to the academy. He probably won’t be coming back tonight.”
“I see… Thank you, Old Uncle.”
Mo Xi thanked Old Man Song and coaxed him back inside the shop to rest. He also conveniently closed the door of the Cixin Refinery Shop for Jiang Yexue and put up the “Closed” sign.
Then he headed toward the academy.
However, he had not walked very far along the main walkway when Mo Xi suddenly encountered another group of people.
This time, it was a black-and-blue carriage decorated with silver skull bells, with a night owl totem painted upon the carriage.
This was the carriage of Zhou He, the Grand Elder of the Department of Arcane Arts.
Zhou He could also be considered a close relative of the royal family. He was not as tall as Murong Lian, nor was he as arrogant and overbearing, but everyone throughout Chonghua knew that his methods were brutal and that he was not someone to provoke.
Furthermore, he had an eccentric personality. He loved the Department of Arcane Arts more than he loved his own Zhou family and was an out-and-out spellcraft fanatic.
Seeing Zhou He’s carriage rolling thunderously closer along the bluestone walkway, Mo Xi could not help frowning.
What was going on tonight?
How was it that at this hour, Murong Lian was not sleeping, and Zhou He was not sleeping either? One after another, they were both rushing outside.
Could something have happened to His Majesty?
But if His Majesty really were ill, Mengze would not be sitting there so calmly reviewing documents, and Mo Xi himself would not be completely unaware of it…
He watched as Elder Zhou He’s carriage lanterns grew farther and farther away along the walkway, eventually becoming two tiny orange points of light swaying like distant stars before being swallowed by the endless darkness.
For some reason, that empty, restless feeling in his heart grew stronger and stronger.
He always felt that something whose outline he could not yet see seemed to be about to happen.
“Lord Xihe.”
After arriving outside the Cultivation Academy, before the ten-person-high gate made of Spirit-Nurturing Jade, the guards politely but firmly stopped Mo Xi.
“It’s so late. The academy gates have already been locked for the night. You’ve come here…?”
The academy was different from other places. It was where all of Chonghua’s young cultivators secluded themselves to cultivate, and it was also known as Chonghua’s Palace of Dawn.
Because the academy was filled with young boys and children who had little experience with the outside world, its security was even stricter than that of the royal city.
For example, Lord Xihe could enter the royal city directly without reporting himself, yet he would still be questioned at the gates of the Cultivation Academy.
Mo Xi understood the rules and was not angry. He simply said,
“I came to see someone. Did Elder Qingxu stay overnight at the academy today?”
“So Lord Xihe came to see Elder Qingxu.”
The guard smiled.
“Elder Qingxu has a guest today. The guest hasn’t left yet. Would you like to wait a little longer?”
Jiang Yexue was an elegant gentleman. Whenever other people had something they needed help with, they were willing to seek him out because they knew he had a mild temperament and was easy to talk to.
But no one had expected that they had only just returned from Bat Island, without even having rested for a full night, and Jiang Yexue already had another visitor.
Mo Xi originally did not want to disturb him, but the matter of repairing the jade slips absolutely could not be delayed.
Thus he said,
“It’s fine. I’ll go find him myself.”
He followed the usual procedure, took a passage jade pendant from the academy, registered his mark in the records, and entered the Cultivation Academy through the opened gate.
The clear night was silent.
The junior cultivators had to follow the cultivation rules established by the elders, and by the hour of Hai, they had already gone to sleep. There was no one anywhere around.
The enormous Cultivation Academy, with its upturned eaves and roof tiles, its golden tiles reflecting a silver-white sheen, looked like a withered-leaf butterfly resting quietly beneath the canopy of heaven. Under the sparse, bright moonlight, it appeared especially splendid, like a dream.
After completing his studies and entering military service, Mo Xi rarely returned to the academy.
Fortunately, not much had changed inside. Whether it was the training grounds and gardens or the palaces and buildings, they were still almost the same as when he had cultivated and practiced spells there.
Mo Xi had no time to reminisce about the past. With the Qiankun pouch containing secrets and hope clenched beneath his sleeve, he hurried straight toward the elders’ residences.
When he reached the white jade bridge connecting the elders’ residences to the Sword-Dancing Grounds, he suddenly spotted someone approaching from afar.
Mo Xi focused his eyes.
He could not help freezing.
…Murong Chuyi?
Murong Chuyi had his head lowered and had not noticed Mo Xi at the other end of the jade bridge. He was walking silently by himself.
He was unlike his usual self, when his bearing was almost immortal-like, light and ethereal.
For some reason, his steps were somewhat unsteady. His hair was also slightly disheveled, and a few stray strands of hair hung limply beside his porcelain-like face.
Mo Xi frowned.
“…Mr. Murong.”
Murong Chuyi suddenly raised his head, seemingly startled.
His normally cold and proud face was now covered in a layer of panic and embarrassment that he had not yet managed to conceal.
But what surprised Mo Xi even more was that the corners of Murong Chuyi’s eyes were red.
It was as if he had just suffered some kind of humiliation, one that he had forcibly endured, transforming it into soft, crimson fish-tail-like flushes, two smudges of rouge spreading through watery light at the corners of his phoenix eyes.
“You…”
Murong Chuyi bit down on his pale, withered lips.
The skin on his lips had split, and blood could be seen where they pressed together.
He suddenly turned his face away. A moment later, as if afraid that someone might think he was deliberately hiding something, he forced himself to turn back.
A pair of eyes, clear and cold as frost and sharp as blades, looked toward Mo Xi.
Those eyes still carried a trace of moisture.
Although Murong Chuyi probably thought he had hidden it very well and had even deliberately put on a somewhat fierce expression, Mo Xi could only think—
He had hidden it terribly.
Weakness, resentment, humiliation…
He had hidden none of it.
After a long silence, Mo Xi asked,
“…Are you all right, sir?”
“…Fine.”
The two men, each carrying their own thoughts, looked at one another.
Given their personalities and relationship, there was no need for further concern.
Mo Xi did not like meddling in other people’s affairs, and Murong Chuyi liked having other people meddle in his affairs even less.
Murong Chuyi said,
“I’m leaving.”
They exchanged a perfunctory courtesy and passed each other.
The night wind swept across Murong Chuyi’s broad white sleeves, carrying the delicate fragrance of the trifoliate orange blossoms from within them.
Mo Xi turned his head slightly.
Apart from that elegant fragrance, he vaguely felt that there was another faint scent on Murong Chuyi, as though it had been around someone else before.
But when he tried to think carefully about it, it was like reaching out to catch smoke and mist. No matter how hard he tried, he could not grasp any trace of it.
Mo Xi watched Murong Chuyi’s retreating figure, frowning as he murmured,
“What did he come to the academy for…?”
Naturally, no one answered him.
Mo Xi stood there for a moment before turning around and continuing forward.
Although the elders’ residences in the Cultivation Academy were located in the same area, they were quite far apart. Moreover, every residence had been built according to the individual elder’s preferences.
For example, Elder Caiwei, who taught wood-element spells, had her residence hidden among a forest of flowers and vines. Rose vines covered the walls, and every blossom was as large as a bowl. They bloomed all year round, forever maintaining their delicate beauty.
Elder Changhong, who taught swordsmanship, had a lightning-colored barrier surrounding his residence. There was an enormous garden around the house, yet not a single rock or flower could be seen.
Instead, swords of varying widths and mixed in styles both ancient and new were planted everywhere.
There were at least several thousand of them.
Jiang Yexue’s residence, by comparison, was simply an ordinary wooden house.
A row of slender bamboo swayed outside the courtyard, making it appear especially elegant and normal among this group of lunatics.
Mo Xi followed the path paved with fine white stones and gravel until he reached Jiang Yexue’s door.
He curled his slender index finger and knocked on the wooden door.
“Elder Qingxu.”
There was no response from inside.
After he knocked several more times, the door creaked open.
“…”
Through the half-closed gap in the door, a small clay servant wobbled out and poked its head through.
But someone had smashed the clay head on it, leaving only half a head. It was currently crying pitifully.
Mo Xi knew that Jiang Yexue had always treasured these clay servants and would never damage them.
His heart sank.
“Where is your master?”
“Master… master… giggle, giggle, giggle…”
The little clay servant had been damaged far too severely. It could no longer form a complete sentence and could only make strange, broken noises while spinning around in place.
“Master… don’t… Master…”
The door was half-closed, and the clay servant had been smashed.
Worried that something had happened to Jiang Yexue, Mo Xi pushed the door open and walked inside.
What he saw next made his heart race even more.
Scattered across the floor paved with nan bamboo were tiny spots of blood.
A Ru porcelain celestial-sphere vase that had been placed beside the decorative screen had also been smashed to pieces on the floor, and no one had cleaned it up yet.
“Brother Jiang!”
Mo Xi hurried into the inner hall.
No one.
He went to the bedroom next. When he pushed the door open, he was greeted by complete darkness.
There were no lamps lit in the room, and the curtains were tightly closed.
Instead, the air was filled with a scent that seemed somewhat familiar, yet he could not remember exactly where he had smelled it before.
Mo Xi raised his hand and ignited a ball of fire, illuminating the room.
There was no one inside.
The bedding was disheveled, and several crumpled white garments had been thrown into a corner.
Apart from that, there was nothing unusual…
“Lord Xihe?”
—Status.
Suddenly, an astonished voice sounded from behind him.
Mo Xi abruptly turned around.
He saw Jiang Yexue sitting in a wheelchair, wearing a loose white linen bathrobe. With one hand, he was wiping his long, dripping-wet hair, black as ink jade, while looking at Mo Xi in surprise.
“Why is it you?”