Three’s Company (2)

Mu Weiyin only half-heard Lin Qianshuang’s flattery and answered with a tired grunt.

A moment ago a wisp of soul had flown in through the window; the situation at Penglai Immortal Sect was still unsettled, and the City Lord had clearly just returned from helping Xiao Lanle handle sect affairs.

She had no idea how Junior Sister Xiao was faring.

Lin Qianshuang was worried; she started to speak, then quickly thought better of it and shut her mouth.

Whenever she asked about Xiao Lanle’s whereabouts, Mu Weiyin always scolded her for meddling.

Rather than question the City Lord, she might as well go dig up the news herself.

When she tried to push the quilt aside and climb out, she discovered that her hands had shrunk a whole size, her tiny furred paws skating over the fabric because they could find no purchase, the fine embroidery on the coverlet snagging and fraying beneath them.

Eh, when had she slipped back into her original form?

Lin Qianshuang was thoroughly muddled. She lifted a paw.

A crisp “snap-crack” rang out as dozens more of the raised silver threads snapped.

Just then the door burst open. Du Shuang sauntered in, fruit plate in hand and a warm smile on her face, but the instant she saw the little beast torturing the quilt she shrieked, dashed forward, and grabbed Lin Qianshuang by the tail.

“Little ancestor, please! This ice-silkworm spirit-silk quilt cost me four hundred thousand spirit stones. Must you be so vicious?”

Still bewildered, Lin Qianshuang was seized by the tail and dangled upside-down, swung back and forth. She had woken up dizzy; now the low blood sugar made everything spin.

Mu Weiyin’s head throbbed. She pressed a hand to the round table and lowered herself into a chair; this was the second wave of weakness she had felt since Lin Qianshuang’s soul returned. Ever since their Life-Death Pact had formed, any danger to the little beast fed straight back into her own body.

“Stop shaking! Another swing and I’ll throw up!”

Lin Qianshuang flailed her furry limbs in mid-air, rolled her eyes, and yelled, “Fine, I’ll pay—happy now?”

Du Shuang gave a cold snort, arms folded. “One full month of pouring tea and running errands for the Tower’s honored guests. Not one day less.”

Lin Qianshuang answered the taunt as if it were only a joke, half-dead with exhaustion. “All right, put me down. Keep swinging me and I’ll faint.”

“Miss Lin is to be the next Tower Lord of Tianshu Intelligence Tower. For Deputy Tower Lord Du to order her about like this is improper. Whatever debt she owes, I, the City Lord, will settle.”

The quiet words from Mu Weiyin, who had stood in silence, jolted Lin Qianshuang awake. Her tail shot upright; she sprang into Du Shuang’s arms and fixed her wet eyes on Mu Weiyin, motionless, as though she were staring at some fearsome creature.

These two were definitely not ordinary with each other.

Du Shuang’s scalp tingled. She silently scolded himself for losing her head and rough-housing with Lin Qianshuang right in front of Mu Weiyin.

The Intelligence Tower had always been personally run by the City Lord; it was the very heart of Tianshu City. For Mu Weiyin to hand that post to Lin Qianshuang showed unmistakable trust and esteem.

Du Shuang tugged Lin Qianshuang’s ear and sent a private thread of sound.

“You didn’t sign a slave contract with the City Lord, did you?”

Lin Qianshuang thought for a moment, then answered honestly. “Not a slave contract; a marriage life-death pact.”

Du Shuang had only been teasing, but the moment the words rang in her ear a dull thud followed. She flipped Lin Qianshuang upside down and stuffed her head under her arm.

“Xiao Shuangshuang, why didn’t you tell me sooner? Trying to get me killed? You two are already… together?”

The joking smile slid off Du Shuang’s face; she looked as though she’d touched the City Lord’s inverted scale¹ and stood there quivering.

Lin Qianshuang wanted to explain, but the words were too tangled and she lacked the energy to try.

Du Shuang hurriedly waved both hands, pulled Lin out of her embrace, and set her neatly beside Mu Weiyin as though offering a jewel. “Just a joke between friends, nothing more,” she said with an apologetic laugh. “Hahaha… City Lord, please don’t take it seriously.”

Mu Weiyin scooped the little furball off the desk in one casual motion, copying Du Shuang’s hold and cradling the round body against her chest.

Lin Qianshuang stuck out her tongue in shock; her face was pressed into soft warmth. She wriggled sideways, cheeks flushing, and shot Du Shuang a glare.

Du Shuang backed away, careful to keep her distance; standing too close to Lin Qianshuang might offend the City Lord. She had only just secured her post as deputy tower lord, and the residence she would share with Jinghua inside Tianshu City still awaited the City Lord’s seal. On the chosen auspicious day they would formally become dao partners.

If anything went wrong now, Jinghua would hack her to pieces.

Du Shuang wore a “none of my doing” look and flicked Lin Qianshuang a glance that said, “Good luck; you’re on your own.” The City Lord’s way of holding her was not something she had taught. She silently grumbled: I already warned you the City Lord is not someone to trifle with, yet you insisted on provoking her. Don’t say I didn’t caution you.

A pale blue mirage drifted in through the window where blue irises stood, spreading through the room like misty clouds. Abruptly it twisted and coiled around Mu Weiyin’s fingertips.

Mu Weiyin lifted her hand; the mist-formed shark-bead condensed into several shards of ice that cracked apart in her palm, and the message flashed into her sea of consciousness.

“Deputy Tower Lord, take Miss Lin to the medicinal pool and aid her transformation. Tomorrow she will be the new Tower Lord of Tianshu Intelligence Tower.”

The heavy, fluffy little beast was placed back into Du Shuang’s arms.

Du Shuang hoisted Lin Qianshuang into her arms. “City Lord, are you heading to Penglai Immortal Sect?”

Mu Weiyin gave a soft grunt, swept her sleeve, and vanished on the spot.

Du Shuang had been about to ask where Lin Qianshuang’s quarters should be arranged, but the words never left her throat; she was left standing exactly where she’d started.

Mu Weiyin had rushed off to Penglai Immortal Sect, Junior Sister Xiao must need her for something.

In that case, there was no point searching for anyone else. She might as well wash up and turn in.

Lin Qianshuang yawned. “Why the troubled face? I’m not heavy in this shape.”

“Xiao Shuangshuang, you’re so calm it scared me half to death. The City Lord can’t stand anyone touching what’s hers, even people.”

Du Shuang patted Lin Qianshuang’s furry back, still shaken. “Luckily she was in a good mood today, or Jinghua and I would have had to postpone our wedding.”

Lin Qianshuang leapt onto Du Shuang’s shoulder, her blue eyes narrowing to crescents. “When did you two plan to register as dao-partners? You never even told me, how rude.”

Du Shuang cocked an eyebrow and flicked one of the little ears playfully. “I’m telling you now, aren’t I, Xiao Shuangshuang?”

Lin Qianshuang gave a disgruntled snort, bounded onto Du Shuang’s head, and tugged a few strands of hair in protest.

A wooden plaque carved with the words “Shaohua” hung in the quiet garden; two pear-wood lanterns cast a warm glow onto the stone path fringed with fresh grass. In the round jade pool the steaming water swirled like immortal mist beneath the cool moonlight, pure lotus blossoms drifting upon its pale-blue ripples.

A fluffy little beast paddled its limbs, soft silver-white fur clinging to its round belly. It scooped up a few medicinal blossoms from the bathwater and pressed them to its face, lazily scrubbing itself.

Lin Qianshuang studied the delicate wooden ladle on the pool’s edge, leaned back against the smooth warm jade, and sighed at the City Lord’s bottomless wealth. Hah, rich people really know how to live, no matter the world.

As the herbs seeped in, the devil mark on her forehead flashed; her stubby legs lengthened and straightened, the beast shape melting into human curves.

Light footsteps tapped across the flagstones. Someone halted at the misty brink, clothes rustling to the ground, then slipped into the pool with a soft ripple.

Only the City Lord could enter Shaohua Garden, so had Mu Weiyin returned?

Lin Qianshuang slid hurriedly to the far side, making room.

Mist drifted like a veil, letting Lin Qianshuang glimpse only a blurred figure scrubbing herself. The woman was slowly unwinding the bandage on her arm; tendrils of blood curled through the water, carrying a faint metallic tang. She had to be badly hurt.

Moonlight slipped between rolling clouds and poured down, whitening the newcomer’s skin until it looked like chilled cream. A flower clasp gathered her black-satin hair, and her elegant face, drained by blood loss, shone pale in the silver glow. From a distance the coat on the bank seemed dark, but the bright light revealed it to be a pink-gold silk robe almost fully dyed crimson.

In the pool, the moonbeam stripped the haze away long enough for the two women to see one another clearly.

The hand Xiao Lanle had run through her own hair stilled. Her gaze swept from Lin Qianshuang’s bare shoulder down to where the water lapped at the other woman’s chest and waist; her pupils narrowed slightly before she turned away with a cold face and leaned against the opposite rim.

Lin Qianshuang’s attention lingered for several seconds on the blood-soaked robe.

Across Xiao Lanle’s back, unhealed scars writhed like a net of pale lightning over her skin.

Some scars were fresh, some years old, their raised flesh cruelly gaping.

“Are these from the Sect Leader’s trial?”

Lin Qianshuang’s heart twisted. When her soul had been summoned back, Xiao Lanle had been the first to race to her aid, yet her face had stayed blank while her body carried so many of these wounds. They must have hurt terribly.

Xiao Lanle gave no answer. She slid completely under the medicinal bath and lay motionless, as though asleep.

Worried, Lin Qianshuang started to swim closer, but after only a few strokes an arm caught hers and pulled her into an embrace.

She plunged beneath the surface. Xiao Lanle pressed her hard against the pool wall, her back to the warm jade that burned like a hot iron.

“Senior sister, are you a fool? So easy to deceive.”

Xiao Lanle braced her elbow beside Lin Qianshuang’s temple and whispered into her ear. Gently she tucked the strands of hair that had fallen across Lin’s forehead behind the girl’s ear; her face was haggard, touched with weariness, and her eyes were threaded with red.

“The City Lord, at Penglai Immortal Sect she received the very message you sent. Aren’t you together?”

Lin Qianshuang twisted, pinning Xiao Lanle against the pool wall. The pressure felt stifling, and a shadow of dread gathered in her heart. Xiao Lanle was badly injured; if Mu Weiyin had been with her, both of them must have run into something terrifying.

“City Lord, City Lord, why is every word you breathe about that woman, senior sister?”

Xiao Lanle said, displeased.

“The Life-Death Pact of marriage? So long as Mu Weiyin still breathes, you’re trapped here with me.”

Xiao Lanle sank her teeth into Lin Qianshuang’s neck, pressing a lurid crescent of marks, then traced the girl’s startled cheek with trembling fingers. Her bright eyes glinted with ruthless clarity. “Tianshu City will have a new master soon, and I’m the one who deserves everything. Thanks to you, Mu Weiyin is weak; when she was injured she never suspected my hand. Bit by bit, all her cultivation will flow into me.”

“Ten years I’ve waited, more than ten, for this revenge. Senior sister, you’ll understand, won’t you? You don’t love the City Lord; I know you’re enduring this life just as I am. Soon we’ll be together. No one will keep us apart.”

Lin Qianshuang stared at the emotions crashing across Xiao Lanle’s face and at the crimson lotus of Glazed Temple Gem flickering in the girl’s dantian. She touched the bite on her own neck, then instinctively reached for her zither. “Lanle… is your heart demon back?”

“No,” Xiao Lanle whispered. “This is no demon.”

Xiao Lanle pressed Lin Qianshuang’s hand to her chest, the corners of her mouth curving in a faint, eerie smile. “This is the true Xiao Lanle. I have lost everything; this place is hollow, and because you’re here it is both empty and aching.”

Her voice carried an icy chill that made the skin crawl. “Only now do I understand: whatever I desire I must seize, or else I’ll end up like you, Senior Sister, always fleeing, until one day I simply vanish.”

She brushed her fingertips over Lin Qianshuang’s eyes, where vigilance sparked a soft blue demonic light, and murmured with gentle grace, “Senior Sister, keep me company on the road to purgatory, will you? Humans and demons walk different paths; were we to become dao partners we would stand against Heaven itself. Yet even if we fall into the sixfold wheel of reincarnation, I want you bound fast to my side.”

A fierce, burning prick: a silver needle silently pierced the skin of Lin Qianshuang’s collarbone and left a vivid red-spider-lily tattoo.

Lin Qianshuang felt something alive skimming beneath the skin along her blood vessels; before she could react the gu-worm² had burrowed deep. The crimson blossom darkened to violet, and when she tried to erase it with demonic qi she found its roots entwined around bone and meridian, no force could dislodge it.

Xiao Lanle lowered her lashes and pressed a kiss to the fresh tattoo, then tightened her fingers around the nape of Lin Qianshuang’s neck, a shred of warmth surfacing in her smile. “Senior Sister, this is our covenant. This gu will remind you daily of the vow you made beneath the marriage tree all those years ago. Do not betray me.”

A woman moved along the courtyard eaves, wooden spoon in hand, as though scooping the sparse starlight from the thick night. The ripple in the pool startled her; she glanced down, and at the sight of two pale bodies in the water the spoon slipped silently from her fingers.

Clang.

The heavy ladle landed between Xiao Lanle and Lin Qianshuang, sending up a spray.

Instinctively the two sprang apart, snatching for clothes on the bank.

A figure dropped from the roof, flinging up a thousand drops.

“Mu Xiaochi, what are you doing here?”

Lin Qianshuang saw Mu Xiaochi bobbing up and down, her face blank; the girl clearly couldn’t swim and had already swallowed several mouthfuls.

Lin Qianshuang caught her own clothes, drew them lightly over her shoulders, then caught Mu Xiaochi by the arm, tilted the child’s chin to lift her face clear of the water, and once she felt the girl breathe, broke the surface and carried her to the pool’s edge.

Demonic energy dried her hair in an instant; seeing Mu Xiaochi safe, she let out a small, quiet breath.

Inside the child’s body lay a single filament of a supreme upper-realm soul, the only weapon in the original story capable of resisting Taotie.

If anything happened to her, the calamity that had devastated every great sect would repeat; once the demon Taotie left the Demon-Locking Tower, no one in the plot save the once-invincible golden-fingered male lead could stand against it.

“Pretty big sister,” Mu Xiaochi whispered, arms tight around her neck, “that one is a bad person. Stay far away from her.”

Mu Xiaochi’s bright eyes circled Lin Qianshuang’s neck, saw the terror on Xiao Lanle’s face, and pressed even closer, like a tiny animal startled half out of its wits.