Chapter 3

It was a pair of clear, extremely pale eyes.

Like the mist hanging between the two ends of a waterfall, or the sparks of stars drifting in the winter night sky.

He glanced sideways, looking at the frenzied zombie and the unconscious girl, and frowned.

Then he extended his finger, uncertainly pointing at the ferocious zombie.

The candlelight gradually dimmed, and silence fell.

A moment later, the young man stood up, looking at the pile of shredded flesh on the ground, and concluded, "So weak."

Then he looked at the dying girl, frowned, and the scenes from before flashed before his eyes. He felt a headache, as if trying to solve a difficult problem. He raised his index finger and placed it between her eyebrows.

The finger, still stained with blood, was dirty but did not tremble.

...

The autumn wind blew gently, the moon rose in the east, and the silver light bathed the mountains and hills. The majestic palace was covered in frost.

When he arrived at the palace gate, the people outside had already fled.

He looked at his hand, where the lividity was fading, frowned, and his lips trembled as he muttered softly,

"Ning... Changjiu?"

Could there really be someone with the same name and surname in this world?

Or... is this my name?

He picked up the copper coin on the threshold, lightly pinched it, and looked through the hole in the coin.

The autumn leaves swayed, and the bright moon was veiled by the night mist, shimmering.

Between the bright moons, he seemed to see a vague and ethereal Taoist temple. Many fragments of memories slowly mixed into his mind, but he could not piece them together.

"Who... am I?"

He stood quietly, the night wind blowing his Taoist robe like a bird spreading its wings, lingering in the night wind.

...

Ning Xiaoling woke up three days later.

After the exorcism ritual, Ning Qinshui died suddenly. The next dawn, Song Ce dared to bring people to collect the body. He was shocked to find that the old Taoist had become a pile of rotten flesh and bones, but his two disciples seemed to be still alive.

Since they had survived the great disaster, he arranged for them to be sent back to the abandoned courtyard.

At this moment, a small stove was boiling medicine, the strong medicinal smell mixed with a lot of white mist bubbling.

When Ning Xiaoling opened her eyes, she saw Ning Changjiu lifting the lid of the pot, staring at the boiling medicine, and frowning.

Ning Xiaoling looked around, the red-lacquered wooden bed, the curtains half-drawn, and the red lanterns hanging between the ancient shelves.

"This is..."

She tried to sit up but felt her limbs weak, unable to exert any strength. Her head felt as if thousands of ants were biting, and thinking made her head ache.

She wrapped herself in the blanket, curling up tighter, as if recalling a scene. Her pupils constricted, and her body trembled, her cold hands and feet unable to warm up.

She cautiously raised her head, the strong medicinal smell making her feel even more unreal.

"Where is Master?" she asked softly.

Ning Changjiu replied succinctly, "Dead."

Ning Xiaoling closed her eyes, the evil spirits that had invaded her body and the heart-wrenching screams still echoing in her ears. She shuddered and opened her eyes, trying to remain calm, "How did we survive?"

Ning Changjiu said, "Maybe we were lucky."

Ning Xiaoling naturally did not believe this, but she did not ask further. She felt that there was something strange about her senior brother...

Ning Changjiu put the fan aside, poured the medicine into a bowl, and handed it to her, "Alright, drink the medicine."

After Ning Xiaoling drank the medicine, her body warmed up, and she finally had some strength. She recalled Ning Changjiu's way of pouring the medicine, feeling that something was off.

"What kind of medicine is this?" she asked casually.

Ning Changjiu said, "Song Ce sent it. I checked, it's fine. It's for warming the body and nourishing the Purple Mansion."

Ning Xiaoling said, "Oh," and placed the empty bowl on the wooden cabinet beside her. She hid her hands under the blanket, her small body curled up like a little fox.

"Senior Brother... thank you," she said softly.

Ning Changjiu asked, "Thank me for what?"

Ning Xiaoling looked up, seriously, "You protected me. I remember. I treated you so badly, and you... don't hold a grudge."

Ning Changjiu said, "Actually... I seem to have forgotten a lot, but I also remember a lot."

Ning Xiaoling was taken aback, "What do you remember?"

Ning Changjiu sighed softly, his voice like a wind sinking into a valley, "I remember Master killing me."

Ning Xiaoling's brows furrowed. The scene from that night loomed over her memory like a nightmare. At the time, Ning Qinshui used that so-called "protective talisman" to make them scapegoats. She didn't know what happened afterward, but both of them somehow survived.

Such a profound memory, how could her senior brother forget? Could it be that he still harbored a侥幸 of a master-disciple relationship with Ning Qinshui?

How could there be such a fool?

Ning Changjiu did not continue, shaking his head, "Rest well, I'll go for a walk."

Ning Xiaoling lowered her head, nodding.

The door opened wide, the cool wind blew over her face, and soon, an autumn rain began to sprinkle in the courtyard, pattering.

Ning Changjiu moved a chair and sat under the eaves, looking at the autumn rain. The raindrops appeared to him as countless silver threads falling from the sky.

He suddenly raised his hand, holding it at a certain height, motionless.

Time passed unknowingly.

Ning Xiaoling, wearing a white single garment, stepped out of the curtain and saw this scene. She was startled, crouched down, and silently retreated to the room.

The next two days were unusually quiet. Song Ce sent medicine and food daily, and when they recovered, he would give them a sum of silver and send them out of the imperial city.

Ning Changjiu seemed to have no injuries, but Ning Xiaoling's condition was not as simple as a broken bone. Her entire meridians were swollen and split. If it weren't for the spiritual energy she had cultivated secretly, she would not be able to walk now. Her Purple Mansion, which she relied on for cultivation, was almost destroyed that night, and it would take a long time to recover.

At night, Ning Xiaoling lay on the bed as usual, and Ning Changjiu carefully applied medicine to her shoulders and back.

Ning Changjiu sat on the edge of the bed, tidying up the ointment.

Ning Xiaoling suddenly said, "After you recover, let's divide the money Master privately kept. Senior Brother has taken care of me, so you should take more."

Ning Changjiu said, "You take it all, I don't need it."

Ning Xiaoling pursed her lips and rubbed her temples, "My head hurts, I can't remember where I put it."

Ning Changjiu said, "One under the compass, one behind the stove, one on the fifth beam from left to right, and one in the hidden compartment under the bed."

The oil lamp flickered, the girl lowered her head, her hair covering her eyes. She massaged her arm, expressionless.

Silence.

Ning Xiaoling broke the silence first, "It's all my fault. I knew that old man had ill intentions but was still so careless. I should have checked that talisman."

Ning Changjiu nodded, "The hardest to guard against is the knife from behind."

Ning Xiaoling turned her head, her eyes wide and watery, and asked, "Senior Brother will never harm me, right?"

Ning Changjiu was taken aback, naturally replying, "Of course not."

Ning Xiaoling nodded lightly, as if consoling herself, "Yes, Senior Brother will never blame me or harm me... but... but..."

Ning Changjiu looked at her calmly, waiting for her to continue.

Ning Xiaoling suddenly raised her head, her originally delicate and lovely face now appeared thin and pale. The girl's eyes flickered, alert and fearful. She opened her mouth and finally spoke the words that had been frozen in her throat:

"But... who are you really?"

With a crack, a flower of oil suddenly exploded at the edge of her sleeve.