Shen Nanyin’s few words made the expressions of everyone aboard the flying boat turn subtly complicated.
They all looked toward this grey-robed outer disciple of the Qiantian Sect, leading a jujube-red pony, her hair in two braids, travel-worn to the point of shabbiness, their eyes full of quiet inquiry.
Just who was Daoist Lord Mingshua of the True Martial Path?
He was, indeed, gentle and approachable, without airs, and anyone who came to him with a request would always get some kind of useful response.
His status was exalted, yet he was never arrogant, never looked down on anyone.
But he also wasn’t the sort to volunteer remarks, for no reason at all, that hinted at a relationship deeper than it appeared.
“Your health matters” — that familiar tone, that open, unconcealed note of concern, stirred up all manner of suspicion and wild imagination.
Even Fu Xiaoran, who had kept his eyes closed the whole time, opened them at this and studied her. His gaze, almost tangible, landed on Cheng Xueyi, making her deeply uncomfortable.
Even when Shen Nanyin truly scrutinized someone, he never made them feel this way.
He knew restraint, knew how to soften things. Fu Xiaoran did not.
His eyes were direct, sharp to the point of cutting, and Cheng Xueyi could barely hold back the battle-thirst stirring in her blood.
She tightened her grip on the pony’s reins, thinking she needn’t even bother refusing the invitation herself — Fu Xiaoran so plainly didn’t want her aboard that he’d surely object outright.
She hadn’t expected what he actually said was: “Still standing there dazed for what? Do I need to tell you how many spirit stones it costs to keep this boat burning for a single day? Don’t waste everyone’s time and spirit stones.”
“…”
So you scrutinized her for that long, and this was the conclusion you reached?
Cheng Xueyi said bluntly, “The Saint Son jests. Even if time and spirit stones are wasted, that’s none of my concern. It was the Saintess who invited me aboard — I didn’t beg shamelessly to come up. Whether I decide to accept is my own business to consider, isn’t it?”
Fu Jinghua froze for a moment at this, then broke into a smile, glancing teasingly at her brother.
She’d always known her brother had a foul temper, a cold disposition, and a mouth that invited a beating.
But out of deference to his standing, everyone tolerated him.
Someone talking back to him this directly — Cheng Xueyi was truly the first.
And an outer disciple, at that. Such nerve. It genuinely impressed her.
Fu Xiaoran himself was stunned speechless. By the time he came back to himself and opened his mouth to say something, Shen Nanyin had already stepped into his line of sight, blocking him.
“If you’d rather not come aboard, you needn’t,” Shen Nanyin said to Cheng Xueyi. “The road to the Water Cloud Expanse has water sprites in revolt, and there’s flooding — the Yujing Shenzong is dealing with it now, and no one can pass through for the time being. If you’re not in a hurry, you could take the long way around.”
Water sprites in revolt? Really?
Was her luck that bad?
If she’d truly only come out to complete a task, taking the long way wouldn’t have mattered — she wasn’t pressed for time. But she still needed to get to the Ghost Market.
Cheng Xueyi sensed the spirit energy within her, which seemed to have steadied somewhat. Riding the flying boat partway, then getting off once past the area disturbed by the water sprites, shouldn’t be a problem.
Decision made, Cheng Xueyi patted the pony’s head and whistled at it; it trotted off on its own.
Cheng Xueyi leapt lightly for the boat, but because it sat so high and most of her strength was sealed away, the jump fell just short — she nearly failed to make it aboard.
It was Shen Nanyin, standing at the bow, who reached out in time and caught her, letting her use his grip to steady herself once she landed. Black Lotus Novel | BLACK LOTUS NOVEL
“Thank you—”
The words of thanks had barely left her mouth when she saw Shen Nanyin abruptly release her hand and retreat several steps away.
The lilting silver bell-chime hadn’t yet faded when Cheng Xueyi, unhurried, reached down and pressed a hand to it. The chime stopped, and Shen Nanyin’s condition seemed to settle considerably.
…The thought was rather ill-timed, but the way he’d been startled by the bell was, oddly, a little endearing.
Cheng Xueyi let her gaze sweep discreetly over Shen Nanyin’s thick, trembling lashes, then turned and bowed politely to Fu Jinghua in thanks.
“My thanks for the Saintess’s kindness. Then I’ll impose on you for part of the journey.”
Fu Jinghua, just coming back to herself, glanced at Shen Nanyin’s hand, already tucked back into his sleeve, and smiled gently. “The boat’s large enough, with plenty of empty rooms to spare — it can hold a few more people. Only then are the spirit stones spent worthwhile.”
Before Cheng Xueyi could answer, a flash of sword-light suddenly cut through the air.
Her vision blurred for an instant, and she saw Fu Xiaoran walk past her, the Tongxin Sword in his arms, heading toward the guest quarters.
“A Wu, go find this junior sister a guest room to settle into,” Fu Jinghua said, already arranging quarters for Cheng Xueyi.
“There’s no need,” Xueyi said. “I’ll get off once we’re past the flooded area — no need to trouble the Saintess or this senior sister.”
Compared to Fu Jinghua, A Wu’s manner was far more distant.
She naturally recognized the robes of a Qiantian Sect outer disciple. Shen Nanyin traveling with them was one thing, but why was even an outer disciple allowed aboard?
The Saintess was simply too soft-hearted, inviting anyone and everyone — what if this one harbored ill intentions?
A Wu pulled Fu Jinghua away, her expression wary. Fu Jinghua, helpless, gave Cheng Xueyi an apologetic smile before going to soothe her.
With the Saint Son and Saintess gone, the people of the Desireless Heavenly Palace gradually dispersed as well, leaving only Cheng Xueyi and Shen Nanyin at the bow.
Shen Nanyin looked at the mission token at her waist. He said nothing, but she was certain he disapproved of her taking on a challenge above her rank.
Cheng Xueyi said plainly, “This is just a task I’m doing along the way. If I can’t finish it, I’ll drop it. Mainly, I need an excuse to go to the Ghost Market.”
Entering the Ghost Market required Shen Nanyin’s ticket — no point hiding that from him. Better to say it outright than let him find out and start overthinking.
“Didn’t the Eldest Senior Brother tell me to go return the Peach Blossom Intoxication? See, I’m very obedient~”
Her voice trailed off with a lilt, carrying some indistinct, ambiguous charm.
Shen Nanyin slowly raised his eyes, his gaze falling on her. The bright sunlight spilled over her, gilding her in a natural, radiant glow, as dazzling as a piece of colored glaze.
He noticed again the shell hair-clasp at the end of her braid — cheap, but finely made and pretty, well-suited to her spirited, delicate charm.
“I’m going to the Ghost Market too.”
Having said that much, Shen Nanyin fell silent.
His gaze didn’t withdraw from her, but it was so light and gentle, lighter even than sunlight, that it left Cheng Xueyi feeling comfortable, with a sincere sense of being valued and taken seriously.
“The Eldest Senior Brother is going too? What does that mean?” Cheng Xueyi turned his words over, and abruptly grew wary. “Eldest Senior Brother, you’re not thinking of taking back the ticket you already gave me, are you? There’s no such logic in this world!”
She dashed a good distance away at once, clutching her satchel nervously, as if Shen Nanyin might snatch the ticket back the very next second.
Shen Nanyin was quiet a long moment before saying, “Once given, it’s yours. Why would I take it back?”
“But if you’re going to the Ghost Market, don’t tell me you have more tickets than that?”
The first session of the Ghost Market had only ten seats total. Even to thank the Qiantian Sect, they wouldn’t be willing to give out that many.
She didn’t know the exact number, but it surely couldn’t exceed two. Given Shen Nanyin’s standing, Elder Gongming would certainly have to hand one over to him; the other he’d keep for himself, or perhaps gift to someone — there wouldn’t be more than that.
Cheng Xueyi had worked out the situation for herself, nearly perfectly accurate, her guardedness plain to see.
Shen Nanyin suddenly laughed a little, his somewhat pale face seeming to gain a touch of color.
“I’m not taking yours back. I have another one.” He explained, “Before coming, I went to see Elder Su and traded something with her for a ticket.”
Cheng Xueyi was doubtful. “Really?”
Shen Nanyin had no choice but to take out his own ticket and show her. “Really.” Black Lotus Novel Novel Archive · Black Lotus Novel
Seeing that he did indeed have another, Cheng Xueyi finally relaxed, dropping her guard, and gave her little satchel a light pat.
Shen Nanyin lowered his eyes, his gaze brushing over the lively magpie embroidery on her satchel.
It was rare to see a young woman embroider that kind of bird, let alone on something she carried with her.
Noticing his attention, Cheng Xueyi remarked offhandedly, “My mother always used to say, when a magpie calls from the branch, good things are coming. So I always carry a cloth bag embroidered with magpies when I go out — for good luck.”
So that was the meaning behind it.
Seeking a good omen, then?
Shen Nanyin, thinking of what he’d discovered in the Heart-Devouring Valley, asked quietly, “May I ask Junior Sister Cheng’s age?”
“Nineteen.”
“How many years since you joined the sect?”
“Five.”
“Then you came up the mountain at fourteen.” Shen Nanyin closed his eyes briefly, then continued, “Where is Junior Sister Cheng’s home? Are your parents well?”
“…” Cheng Xueyi stared at him, her meaning unreadable. “My parents are both gone. They died the year before I came up the mountain, buried on Tuwei Mountain in Qingping Town, in the mortal realm. I’ve had strange abilities since I was small, and the villagers, not knowing it was due to an immortal root, all said I was possessed by a demon and wanted to call in a Daoist priest to capture me. My parents moved us several times because of it, and hadn’t even settled fully into our new home for half a year before they died.”
“They died of illness. A plague-demon had arisen in Qingping Town, and the immortal masters of the Qiantian Sect happened to be there to exorcise it — they didn’t make it in time to save my parents. But they found me, saw I had a spirit root, and took pity on me for having no parents left, so they brought me back to the sect.”
Cheng Xueyi said with a smile, “Is there anything else the Eldest Senior Brother wants to know?”
Her voice carried a smile, but her eyes were cold, without a trace of it.
She’d already laid out her past clearly enough. Shen Nanyin truly had nothing left to ask.
In truth, he could have learned all this with a single transmission talisman — someone would have reported every detail to him without omission.
But that would inevitably have stirred up attention from others, and brought Cheng Xueyi unnecessary trouble.
Nor did he want to investigate her behind her back, so he chose to ask her directly, face to face.
Whether what she said was true, whether she was concealing anything — he would judge that for himself.
As for why he wanted to know all this, that went back to his return from the Heart-Devouring Valley.
In the Heart-Devouring Valley, Shen Nanyin had discovered a secret passage, its life-energy severed. Where it led, whether it had ever been used — both were unknown.
He’d fought the demonic being within the valley, both sides suffering heavy losses. Back at the sect, he’d reported the matter to his Master. After some thought, his Master judged that since he’d already destroyed the passage, there should be no further danger.
That passage seemed to have only just been completed, not yet used — fortunate that he’d gone in and discovered it in time, or the consequences would have been unthinkable.
His Master had told him to stay at the sect and recover from his injuries, letting someone else handle retrieving the Moon-Mending Grass, but he’d refused.
He’d still decided to make the trip to the Ghost Market himself. In his heart, he held some reservations about his Master’s judgment.
He sensed something was not quite right about the matter.
His Master had left certain things about the inside of the Heart-Devouring Valley unsaid, and he didn’t understand why.
But he believed that passage had lost its power not because it had never been used, but because someone had already used it.
This was only a guess, with no evidence behind it, and not something he could raise a great alarm over without cause.
Running into Cheng Xueyi at the sect gate had been unexpected; Fu Jinghua inviting her aboard on her own had been equally unforeseen.
In the end, he’d chosen to go along with the invitation because, thinking back over everything that had happened recently, more or less all of it seemed connected to this one person.
He’d already confirmed, long ago, that Cheng Xueyi was no different from any ordinary human.
He shouldn’t be pinning baseless suspicions on her.
Shen Nanyin frowned slightly, finding he had nothing more to say. Cheng Xueyi, for her part, had no wish to remain in his company any longer — every extra second felt dangerous.
This man was too perceptive. Talk with him any further and she couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t slip up somewhere. Better to keep her distance until her spirit meridians had stabilized.
Seeing her turn away coldly, Shen Nanyin’s boot toe shifted forward, as if he meant to follow — but he gave up on the impulse quickly.
She was headed to the Ghost Market. So was he.
Yet she only feared he’d snatch her ticket back, without the slightest thought of going together.
Her wish to keep her distance from him was plain enough.
Shen Nanyin turned on his heel and walked off in the direction opposite to Cheng Xueyi’s.
