Song Xiaozhou reluctantly got out of the carriage. Right in front of him was Jing’an Courtyard, with white walls, black tiles, and a refined elegance, nestled halfway up the mountain, with Mount Furi at its back. In the distance, the mountain was a shade of bluish green, shrouded in mist, without the slightest trace of anything eerie.
The three of them stood outside the gate. It had only been a day, yet Song Xiaozhou found himself wanting to see Lu Heng. But with this pair of unpredictable senior and junior brothers beside him, he didn’t want Lu Heng to show up.
“Brother Song, lead the way.” Shen Zhi said with a smiling tone.
Song Xiaozhou shot him a blank look, pressed his lips together, and walked inside step by step. As he crossed the threshold, he touched the dagger hidden in his sleeve, weighing the odds of taking the two of them down.
Shen Zhi glanced around, and the smile on his face slowly faded. Looking at Song Xiaozhou, he asked, “How many people has Lu Heng killed?”
Song Xiaozhou said nothing.
Shen Zhi’s voice turned cold. “This entire residence is filled with baleful yin energy. Either he’s killed far too many people, or every victim was tortured to death, only then would the yin be this thick.”
Liang Mu’s brows furrowed tightly, his expression displeased.
Song Xiaozhou stopped, glared at Shen Zhi, and was just about to speak when a calm young voice sounded, “Xiaozhou doesn’t know anything. Why don’t you ask me instead?”
They turned at the sound and spotted a figure beneath the veranda, no one knew when he had arrived. Clad in simple garments, with black hair cascading and features like a painting, he lounged idly against a vermilion pillar.
Song Xiaozhou’s heart skipped a beat. “Jinzhi, these two are bad people. Go quickly!”
Lu Heng ignored him, looked straight at Song Xiaozhou, and said with a faint smile, “Xiaozhou, come here.”
Without thinking, Song Xiaozhou started toward him, but Shen Zhi grabbed his wrist. With a metallic clang, Liang Mu had already drawn his sword.
Lu Heng’s gaze fixed on the wrist Shen Zhi was holding, his expression turning cold. “Let him go.”
Song Xiaozhou pushed Shen Zhi with all his might, yet despite his frail appearance, the man’s hold was unyieldingly strong. Shen Zhi glanced at Lu Heng and said coldly, “You want me to release him, only for him to become your next prey?”
“What’s it to you?” A blood-red glint flickered in Lu Heng’s eyes, though his face remained calm. “Let go.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, half of the nearby rockery was sheared clean off, crashing straight toward Shen Zhi.
Shen Zhi gave a cold snort, tightened his grip on Song Xiaozhou’s wrist, and easily dodged aside. On the other side, Liang Mu moved in perfect sync with him, raising his sword and pressing toward Lu Heng. The blade carried a Daoist sect’s secret technique, dark light swirling along its edge, crafted to subdue ghosts and spirits.
Lu Heng’s movements were strange and elusive, appearing and disappearing like a ghost. Liang Mu, too, was formidable, and in the clash, half of the narrow corridor collapsed. Around Lu Heng, an eerie ghostly aura spread. Suddenly, several ghosts crawled out of the shadows, some were ones Song Xiaozhou had seen in the residence before, others were dressed in black, their appearances wretched and chilling, as they let out vicious, shrill cries and lunged straight at Liang Mu.
Song Xiaozhou grew frantic and snapped, “Let go, or I won’t be polite!”
Shen Zhi said nothing. Lu Heng was far stronger than he’d expected. Ordinary fierce ghosts only killed, but someone like Lu Heng, who could both kill and control newly dead spirits, was rare indeed.
Suddenly, a cold gleam flashed toward him. Shen Zhi twisted aside to dodge, and in that moment, Song Xiaozhou broke free of his grasp and ran toward Lu Heng.
Shen Zhi’s brows furrowed. With a flick of his fingers, silver threads shot out like lightning. Song Xiaozhou instinctively tried to dodge but still had his arm ensnared.
“Don’t be foolish,” Shen Zhi said. “If you keep following Lu Heng, you’ll die.”
Song Xiaozhou gritted his teeth and slashed at the thread with his dagger, but whatever it was made of, it remained completely unscathed. “It’s none of your business. I’m happy to feed myself to a ghost if I want to!”
Shen Zhi flicked out a yellow talisman, but the tongueless female ghost had somehow appeared behind him, ready to strike.
Just then, he heard Liang Mu call, “Shidi[mfn]Junior brother[/mfn]!” His eyes widened, Lu Heng had suddenly appeared right under the blazing sun, his ghostly aura like a blade, pressing straight toward his face.
Shen Zhi quickly retreated two steps, but Song Xiaozhou was already freed from his restraint, crashing directly into Lu Heng’s arms. Shen Zhi’s expression turned colder still. With a twitch of his fingers, several talismans slapped onto Lu Heng, glowing brilliantly. Song Xiaozhou only heard Lu Heng let out a muffled groan, followed by a low, hoarse, “Close your eyes.” In the next instant, all sound faded away.
When Song Xiaozhou’s eyes fluttered open, he found himself in a mountain forest. Lu Heng’s bone-chilling fingers clutched him firmly, and the crimson in his eyes still carried a lingering threat.
Softly, Song Xiaozhou called, “Jinzhi.”
Lu Heng heard him, shifted slightly, and turned his head. His eyes were a terrifying shade of red as he stared fixedly at Song Xiaozhou. For a moment, Song Xiaozhou didn’t dare make a sound. After a brief hesitation, he reached up to pat Lu Heng’s shoulder and choked out, “I’m sorry. I brought bad people back with me.”
After a long silence, Lu Heng finally spoke, his voice low and gentle: “This isn’t your fault.”
His chilled hand brushed against Song Xiaozhou’s cheek, meeting the warmth of youthful warm flesh beneath, it was vivid and tempting, and before either could resist, his lips pressed against his. “Xiaozhou.”
Both knelt on the ground, holding each other. Song Xiaozhou didn’t dare move, his legs weak and trembling. Lu Heng’s closeness felt intimate yet sent chills down his spine, like a small prey caught by a fierce beast. Nervously, his voice quivered, “Jinzhi, Jinzhi…” He didn’t know what to do, whether it was begging or running, they away were all wrong. After narrowly escaping death, his mind was a chaotic mess.
As Lu Heng’s tongue brushed lightly against him, Song Xiaozhou stiffened, nerves strung tight with anxiety. Instinctively, he clutched at something and was met with Lu Heng’s low groan. Glancing down, he saw that he had seized Lu Heng’s hand, the one seared by Shen Zhi’s talisman, still bearing its burn mark.
Song Xiaozhou looked at the injury and cupped Lu Heng’s hand. “How did it get so badly hurt?” He asked, deeply distressed. Lu Heng’s hands had always been beautiful, cold, and smooth like jade.
The burn was ugly. Lowering his head, Song Xiaozhou kissed it.
Lu Heng stiffened briefly, then closed and reopened his eyes. The chaotic redness had faded somewhat. He took a deep breath and croaked, “Xiaozhou.”
Song Xiaozhou looked up at him. Lu Heng kissed his forehead and said, “Don’t be afraid.”
For some reason, Song Xiaozhou felt a prickling in his nose. In a rough voice, he said, “I’m not afraid.”
“Good child,” Lu Heng smiled gently, his gaze falling on the jade at Song Xiaozhou’s waist. He stroked his head and said, “Xiaozhou, I’m very glad you came back.”
Song Xiaozhou pressed his lips together.
Lu Heng said, “You had many chances to leave. It was those two—they wanted me. If you left, they wouldn’t stop you much.”
Song Xiaozhou met Lu Heng’s gaze. Lu Heng’s ghostly aura hadn’t yet faded, carrying a dangerous chill that made one shiver. Song Xiaozhou swallowed and turned his head, sulking, “If you’re here, I’m not going anywhere.”
Lu Heng looked at him deeply. Song Xiaozhou raised his eyes and realized the place felt familiar, as if he had been here before.
In front of them was a small mound of yellow earth with a nameless little stone tablet standing atop it.
Song Xiaozhou asked, “Where is this?”
Lu Heng was silent for a moment, then said, “My grave.”
