Spread Too Thin

Du Shuang lowered her head, her gaze sliding to Lin Qianshuang. In a teasing voice transmission she said, “Xiaoshuang, we haven’t seen each other for months and you’ve already landed the city lord. Tell me, what bargain did you strike to make her look at you like that?”

Lin Qianshuang snatched her hand back from Mu Weiyin’s, eyebrows twitching. “You know the city lord’s temper, stop making fun of me.”

She switched topics. “What about you and Master Jing Hua? How are the two of you?”

Du Shuang couldn’t help smiling; she glanced sideways at Lin Qianshuang. “Same as ever. Your master’s ice-cold and stubborn, but when anything happens she’s the first to shield me.”

Lin Qianshuang’s lips curved. “That… sounds wonderful.”

She watched the joy and contentment spilling from Du Shuang’s eyes and felt quietly happy for her.

Yet a hollow place inside her seemed stuffed with stones, so heavy she could not name the ache.

Envy had flared without warning and faded just as fast.

Before she could puzzle it out, the sky whirled in her eyes. Her limbs felt weightless; she looked down and saw herself grown translucent, her feet beside a silent, crumpled form.

Her beast shell lay on the tiles, breathless, while she still stood.

A soul torn loose?

The thought struck and she threw herself at the body, but the spirit met resistance, bounced away. She flung herself down again and again, yet each time rebounded, shut out.

She stood rooted, utterly lost. In her ghost form she could cast no spirit art; only the sword of demon qi in her hand still answered her.

“Senior Sister Lin, do you still remember your betrothal to the Chen family’s second son?”

A man in black stepped from the cracked void; the flow of time, along with every figure in the plaza froze where they stood.

Lin Qianshuang sat beside her own lifeless shell, watching the young man walk forward and push back his hood. No surprise showed on her face, yet her palms clamped tight, slick with cold sweat. Calmly she said, “Junior Brother Liang, fortune truly favors you. Pierced by so many blades and still you return alive. Even the Heavenly Dao took your side, sending down lightning to carry you off.”

“You are only a wandering soul now. Provoke me further and you’re not afraid I’ll destroy you?”

Liang Jingxuan halted before her; he had never meant to hide, and he lifted away his mask.

He stared at Lin Qianshuang’s clear, unsettling face, reached out to pull her up, and said, half choked with pity,

“Senior Sister, Chen Shangqing traded me the rights to Wanbao Pavilion in exchange for your life. Everyone in Penglai Immortal Sect believes you’re already dead. Now that your soul has left your body, the moment the ghost wedding begins you’ll stand half inside the Ghost Gate. Once your birth-date is linked to the Chen second young master your name will be struck forever from the Book of Life and Death¹.”

Lin Qianshuang glanced down: her fleshy shell was melting back into its silver-beast form, a limp, fur-covered heap on the ground.

Liang Jingxuan hauled her upright, eyes reddening as he gripped her shoulders. “Senior Sister, I’m only a soul right now and my real body hasn’t healed, but that’s still enough to hide you from this wedding. If you stay out of your body three full hours you’ll vanish into smoke. We came from the same place, we fit. Why let strangers tear us apart? Give me one word, say you’ll stay with me, and I—”

Lin Qianshuang cut his flood of sweet talk with a cold laugh. “Liang Jingxuan, you came to harvest my soul, so spare me the hypocritical sermon. Want to play the whore and raise a chastity arch as well? Do you honestly think I’ll be grateful and plead for my life by saying I love you?”

She studied his twisting expression, smiled, and said softly, “Sorry, the Senior Sister Lin you adored already died for you. I, Lin Qianshuang, don’t fancy a scumbag in the least.”

Thanks to Mu Weiyin’s life-and-death contract, Lin Qianshuang felt an inexplicable sense of safety; even without that safety net, she was no fool, any interrupted ghost marriage was bound to leave an opening.

Beg the male lead? Hah, dream on.

Liang Jingxuan stared at her, eyes torn between pain and reluctance. “Senior Sister, I truly don’t want to hurt you, but if you keep clinging to this delusion you’ll only lose your life for nothing. Xiao Lanle can never make you happy; only I can. I won’t let you dissipate. Wanbao Pavilion is useful to me, yet I’ll still find a way to break this underworld marriage.”

Lin Qianshuang laughed in contempt. “You said the same thing when you threw me into the crocodile pond—‘I don’t want to hurt you.’ But you already had. If you want Wanbao Pavilion, just admit it; don’t paste a love sticker on your actions. It’s disgustingly fake.”

He reached for her shoulder, then jerked his hand back, a flash of malice in his eyes. “Senior Sister… then forgive me.”

A Soul-Collecting Banner appeared in his grip. Her weightless body was yanked forward by an invisible force, and everything turned black.

Liang Jingxuan stowed the Soul-Collecting Banner, pulled his hood back into place, and vanished into the air without a sound.

The frozen flow of time and space resumed in an instant.

“Xiao Shuangshuang?”

Du Shuang was about to send a voice transmission to Lin Qianshuang when she realized her aura had disappeared.

Instead, a small, fluffy lion-like beast lay stiff and motionless at Mu Weiyin’s feet.

Du Shuang froze, then hurried forward. “City Lord, look at your feet.”

Mu Weiyin knelt and scooped the limp, furry bundle into her arms; Du Shuang hurried to her side.

Du Shuang pressed two fingers to Lin Qianshuang’s snout, then looked up. “City Lord, what’s wrong with Jieyu? I can’t feel even a wisp of demonic energy from her.”

“Her soul was pulled out. Someone did it under my nose.”

Mu Weiyin closed her fingers, extinguishing the spell she had ready. Her face was cold, almost ugly. “There’s actually someone in this world who can slip past my Heavenly Eye.”

Du Shuang stared at the small beast cradled against Mu Weiyin’s chest. “City Lord, Jieyu is a close friend. Please tell me how to save her.”

Mu Weiyin’s brows lifted. “I’ve just watched the two of you exchange secret glances. Now you’re frantic for a cure. Are you two dao partners?”

Mu Weiyin’s razor-sharp gaze pinned Du Shuang in place.

Du Shuang forced a placating smile. “City Lord, Jieyu and I are only casual friends. You know I’ve lived with Jing Hua for years.”

“From now on you will not call her Jieyu, nor make those sly eyes at her.”

Mu Weiyin’s brows drew together. “I have always addressed her by her codename; I still don’t know her real one. Yet you speak it freely. That is improper. You will not address her so intimately again.”

Du Shuang gaped, then understanding struck. These two were no mere allies. The City Lord’s jealousy was written across her face; perhaps Jing Hua’s eldest disciple was about to soar straight into the position of City Lord’s wife.

A fresh worry gnawed at her: if the City Lord carried Jieyu off, how could she explain to the amnesiac Lord of the Demon Realm who had entrusted her dao partner to her care?

Mu Weiyin’s eyes narrowed. “What are you thinking? I asked for her real name.”

Du Shuang reined in her wandering thoughts and handed over a jade slip containing Lin Qianshuang’s complete dossier.

“Lin Qianshuang.”

The name left Mu Weiyin’s lips like an incantation. Shadows stirred in the corners of her mind; her temples throbbed as though something were splitting open.

For an instant she felt she had cried that name a thousand, ten thousand times, each syllable carved into her heart with a bloody knife, unforgettable to the bone.

She lifted her gaze to Du Shuang. “Lin Qianshuang is my personal minister. Once her present mission ends, I will move her to the Tianshu Intelligence Tower as its Tower Lord. She is someone I cannot lose.”

“Penglai Immortal Sect and Lingxiao Sword Sect are divided by a single mountain range; Immortal’s Bridge is the only way across. The point my divination locked onto is on that bridge. Set an ambush near the suspension bridge and take them all in one sweep.”

Du Shuang hesitated. “But you ordered me to lead the troops to Penglai first and rescue the City Lord’s wife.”

A flicker of uncertainty crossed Mu Weiyin’s face; then she spoke with finality. “You will go to Penglai and extract Xiao Lanle. I alone will bring her back.”

The guards traded glances, none understanding why their lord would abandon the chance to save her beloved personally and instead chase after a mere subordinate.

————

Xiao Lanle pushed the door open. The room was still a wreck, chairs strewn across the floor. An iron cage large enough for three people hung from the beam, swaying slightly as she stepped inside.

A food box rested on the wooden table. She set the Plain Inquiry Sword beside it and lifted the lid. Steam rose, carrying the fragrant promise of a home-cooked meal.

Senior Sister Lin… are you truly dead?

Yet I heard your voice during the Sect Leader’s trial.

Xiao Lanle’s spoon trembled as she sipped the broth; she tore off a piece of pastry, washed it down with tea, and tasted only bitterness.

Outside, disciples waited in silent, stern formation.

She set the bowl and chopsticks down, the last trace of daze gone from her eyes, stepped through the doorway and declared: “Chen Shangqing seized the leadership to settle a private grudge, desecrated the founding ancestor’s tomb, stole the Sect Leader’s spirit pearl, and welcomed outsiders, turning our sect into a cesspool of chaos. The elders are imprisoned in the ancestral hall.”

“Are you truly willing to follow me and win back our sect?”

“We will obey every word the Sect Leader speaks.”

At the disciples’ answer Xiao Lanle curved her lips, a deep, savage shadow flaring in her eyes.

Senior Brother Chen chose treason and murdered Senior Sister Lin; let no one blame her for showing no mercy.

One disciple stepped forward. “Senior Sister once showed us great kindness. Now her fate is unknown, yet Chen Shangqing would force her into a ghost marriage with a dead Lingxiao Sword Sect disciple. Sect Leader, you must intervene.”

Another added, “Right now Chen Shangqing and his turncoats are gathered in the Yuelao Temple on the hill behind Immortal’s Bridge. Sect Leader, we can bag them all in one swoop.”

Xiao Lanle smiled faintly. “No need for all that. You stay, free the elders; I’ll go alone.”