Chapters 57 and 58 Combined Tonight and Tomorrow
A black cat slipped out from the human skin, flipping midair before landing on the ground. It glared at him with hatred, taking two steps back as if preparing to pounce again.
Li Chengying shook his palm, and a talisman flashed briefly with golden light.
The black cat, somehow sensing a threat beneath this gentle motion, let out a low growl. After weighing its options, it decisively turned and fled through the broken window.
Outside, the sound of something hitting the ground faintly echoed before fading into silence.
No sooner had it left than Li Chengying spat out a mouthful of blood.
Had the black cat lingered a moment longer and seen this blood, it would have realized he was at the end of his strength and would no longer have been so eager to escape.
Not only did he cough up blood, but he also began to cough violently, as if his organs were being torn apart. The noise alerted A Jin, who hurried over.
Upon entering, she saw the limp human skin on the floor and the specks of crimson staining the books. She nearly collapsed at the doorway.
“Don’t make a fuss. Endure it!” Li Chengying’s tone was sharper than usual, his speech rapid and terse.
“Go inform my father immediately. Have him find someone reliable to take me to Ci’en Temple at once.”
A Jin’s face turned pale. She opened her mouth to ask more, but when Li Chengying coughed up blood again, looking even weaker than her, she quickly swallowed her words, steadied herself by the door, and staggered out.
Li Chengying leaned back, collapsing onto the soft cushion behind him.
No one knew that he was enduring a fiery agony burning through his body. The hand inscribed with talismans by the woman named Xie was scorching hot, as if submerged in molten lava. The heat coursed from his palm through his entire body, threatening to reduce even his soul to ashes.
But he understood the problem was not the talisman itself—it was that his body could not withstand such power.
For the past twenty years, this body had been in a fragmented spiritual state. In blunt terms, this riddled vessel could not contain any divine soul. So even after his illness passed and his mind recovered, he was still barely holding on, and his condition sometimes worsened with physical and mental exertion.
Soon, A Jin arrived with Li Shangshu.
The latter was startled by Li Chengying’s frailty and the disorder in the study, but his composure was steadier than A Jin’s. He forced himself to examine the discarded human skin on the floor.
“Could this be…the maid named Xiao Qiao?”
“I wanted to ask Mother about this earlier. Xiao Qiao is stunningly beautiful. If she wasn’t chosen by the nobility to enter the palace, she likely was clandestinely taken to fill the harem as a favored concubine, not sent here as a mere maid. No one else in the household seems to have found this strange,” Li Chengying panted.
“Stop talking. You’re barely holding on, worrying about this now! I’ve already arranged a carriage to take you to Ci’en Temple. I haven’t told your mother yet—I don’t want her to worry.”
Li Shangshu and A Jin supported him as he rose unsteadily.
“Maybe we should see a doctor first. That Master Zhu might not be as capable as you think. He hasn’t demonstrated any real magic. Could it be that Princess Xinping was deceived as well...?”
The world spun before Li Chengying’s eyes as he closed them.
“That cat demon used Xiao Qiao’s skin to harm me, but it was the talisman left by Master Zhu in my hand that saved my life. Father, please don’t doubt—Master Zhu truly has some skill.”
Since the others could not see the red-clad woman, he put all the blame on Master Zhu, who was apparently involved.
Li Shangshu looked puzzled, wondering when Master Zhu had ever left a talisman for Li Chengying. But seeing his son in such a state, he refrained from questioning further. He ordered the servant Li De to help support Li Chengying into the carriage and instructed them to be cautious. If they failed to find help, they must return immediately to see a doctor.
After they left, A Jin’s legs still trembled as she whispered, “Young Master, the skin… it’s still in the study…”
Li Shangshu frowned, pondering Li Chengying’s earlier question.
Indeed, in his memory, Xiao Qiao was also a beauty of rare grace. Yet since her arrival, he had felt no dissonance or suspicion, as if her presence was natural. Were it not for tonight’s incident, he might have never recalled that Xiao Qiao was even there.
The thought chilled him to the bone.
“This thing is ominous. We must burn it. I will handle it. You must not speak of this carelessly,” Li Shangshu warned.
A Jin nodded repeatedly, terrified and unwilling to tell anyone.
“I understand.”
...
The carriage wheels clattered over the midnight cobblestones.
Once relatively smooth, the roads had been ravaged by the chaos seven years prior—rebels and imperial troops had clashed and changed hands multiple times, shattering noble families and trampling the stones.
Blood had once stained these paths, washed away by rains, leaving only cracked and uneven surfaces.
Because so many had died here over the years, rumors spread quietly after the court’s restoration. People whispered that vengeful spirits of those slain in the An Shi Rebellion haunted Chang’an, killing to find substitutes. The recent unsolved family massacres were said to be the work of these restless ghosts manifesting as ferocious phantoms.
Li De drove outside, while Li Chengying rested with his eyes closed.
He insisted on only Li De accompanying him, not letting Li Shangshu summon more. Though young, Li De was a skilled driver, and Li Chengying trusted him completely.
When passing a curfew patrol, Li De showed the official permit from the Shangshu residence and slipped some silver coins. They were quickly allowed through without hindrance.
Approaching Ci’en Temple, the carriage suddenly stopped without warning. The horses gave no whinny of alarm.
Outside was a profound silence—Li De didn’t utter a word.
Li Chengying opened his eyes, wincing from chest pain as he lifted the curtain.
Li De’s body leaned sideways.
Li Chengying reached out to check his breath; he was alive, though seemingly asleep.
A faint, strange fragrance wafted outside.
It was musk-like but not overwhelming. The scent made him drowsy, yet his palm burned fiercely, as if warning him.
Li Chengying snapped fully awake.
A faint meow sounded ahead.
The black cat limped out from around a corner, its green eyes fixed on Li Chengying, as if mocking him for walking into a trap.
Li Chengying stepped down into the cold wind and coughed again.
“You have guts, daring to venture out alone.”
The black cat hissed hoarsely, its voice eerie and raspy. Though it had been wounded by Li Chengying and initially fled, it had followed him, unwilling to concede, seeking a chance for revenge.
“Why did you choose the Li family to take shelter?”
Li Chengying met its gaze steadily.
“Let me guess—the two prior family massacres were your doing, weren’t they? You intended a third slaughter at the Li residence?”
The black cat’s emerald eyes glowed with an unsettling, uncanny light beyond that of an ordinary feline.
It could not comprehend how this frail man had the strength to injure it.
Still, the cat had no desire to interrogate further.
It took a half-step back, stretching out its front paws in a hunting posture.
This broken shell could not withstand its pounce, but the soul within looked delectable—enough to raise its cultivation.
Li Chengying sighed suddenly.
“Sister Xie, if you don’t come out soon, I fear this creature will eat me whole.”
His words were clearly not directed at the cat demon.
The cat stiffened, its fur bristling!
Though it saw no one, it sensed danger keenly.
Its instincts rang alarm bells. Though reluctant to abandon its prey, it dared not linger. Swiftly, it retreated and turned to run!
Almost instantly, murderous intent chased from behind!
The cat fled at its fastest pace, blending into the darkness.
Yet even so, it felt a searing pain in its tail!
It screamed in agony, fleeing headlong without looking back.
Xie Chang’an approached calmly.
Her red robes almost merged with the night, only her face, pale and flawless as jade, shining like a star fallen to earth.
---
“Weren’t we to meet three days from now? You’re impatient already?”
Li Chengying managed a bitter smile. “I am much beloved by demons.”
Xie Chang’an glanced at him.
“Follow me.”
This time she carried no umbrella, her footsteps light and nearly silent, like a dance upon water, as she entered the back gate of Ci’en Temple.
Night, a temple, a woman.
This hardly seemed the beginning of a proper story.
Li Chengying coughed twice, rousing Li De and telling him to return alone to inform the Li family of his safety.
Then he followed through the half-open door.
At first, Li Chengying suspected she had used some illusion to secretly reside here. But when he saw an old monk present as well, he realized his mistake.
As he approached, the two were conversing. The monk turned and showed slight surprise upon seeing him.
“Sir, you suffer many ailments, your soul unstable. I fear your time may be short.”
Li Chengying did not bristle at the bluntness but nodded calmly.
“The monk speaks truly. I am indeed a candle flickering in the wind, my days few.”
The old monk hesitated, his expression growing more peculiar.
“Strange, very strange…”
“Strange how?”
The monk shook his head, saying no more. Instead, he asked, “Sir, coming here at this hour—do you seek lodging?”
Li Chengying looked at Xie Chang’an.
She said, “Once you enter this gate, you are safe. Whatever needs to be done, we shall discuss tomorrow.”
The cat demon was merely at the Spirit Realm level, equivalent to a sword cultivator’s Sword Intent stage. It would not dare confront Xie Chang’an, nor breach the temple’s protective barrier.
Earlier, Xie Chang’an intended to eradicate the demon but found it held too many mysteries. It could not have claimed so many lives alone, so she only issued a mild threat to avoid alarming others.
“Thank you, Sister, for your timely rescue.”
She offered no explanation; Li Chengying did not press.
“I will not trouble the monk further.”
The monk clasped his hands in response. “No trouble at all. Please, follow me.”
He led Li Chengying to a side room.
Li Chengying glanced back; the red-robed woman had vanished without a trace.
He had no intention of asking, but the thought lingered, and he could not resist.
“Monk, does this temple now shelter ghosts as well?”
The monk looked puzzled. “What ghosts?”
“That red-clad woman…”
Li Chengying hesitated, realizing he had misunderstood from the start.
She had said she was not a ghost.
“I recall this temple never houses female guests overnight.”
“Indeed, we do not shelter female devotees at night. But Sister Xie is a cultivator and has a connection with this temple, so naturally, she is an exception.”
Li Chengying smiled faintly, expression unreadable.
“I see.”
The temple’s guestroom was simple but clean, faintly scented with sandalwood.
He thought he would fall asleep immediately, exhausted as he was.
Yet through the night, he tossed and turned.
Aside from his chest tightness and coughing, one question haunted his mind:
How does one become a cultivator?
...
Xie Chang’an rose early, setting out to tend the grave of Zheng Luniang.
During the war years, Zheng Luniang had died without a tombstone or epitaph. Now, several years later, the once desolate outskirts were blanketed in snow, a vast white where no one could distinguish one burial mound from another.
Countless unnamed graves had been added amid the ongoing conflicts.
She carried a jug of wine, spilling it as she walked, indifferent to whose grave it was. When finished, she turned back.
Passing through a market street, she paused.
Familiar houses surrounded her, faintly recalling their former shapes.
The Zheng family courtyard had been renovated into a steamed bun shop.
An old hunched woman lifted the lid from a steaming basket, revealing white buns and stuffed buns beneath.
Xie Chang’an lingered, drawing the woman’s attention.
“Miss, want to buy some buns? Plain buns cost one coin each, vegetable buns two. Thin skins, generous fillings, delicious!”
“I’m not hungry,” Xie Chang’an replied.
The old woman hesitated, seeming to misunderstand, then picked up a bun and pressed it into her hand.
“Eat it!”
Xie Chang’an held the bun silently for a moment.
In the end, she ate it piece by piece. Then she asked the woman:
“Where are your family now?”
“Most died in the wars years ago, leaving only a small grandson. Though times have improved, bandits remain rampant. Girls as pretty as you should be careful, always have someone accompany you. My daughter-in-law was taken by bandits this way and never returned.”
The woman rambled on, and Xie Chang’an listened quietly.
When the woman finished, Xie Chang’an asked, “What happened to the original families here?”
“Are you asking about the Zhengs? They all perished, we found no one when we returned.”
Before leaving, Xie Chang’an left a small silver coin.
The old woman looked closely, about to call her back, but the red-robed woman had already vanished like a wisp of smoke.
She returned to Ci’en Temple before dawn.
A young novice monk was sweeping snow. The thick layer, deeper than his feet, was effortlessly brushed aside with a light broom. Xie Chang’an observed him and judged the boy, despite his appearance, was likely a cultivator as well.
The room Li Chengying had stayed in was empty.
“Did he leave so early?” Xie Chang’an asked.
The novice smiled, revealing two dimples.
“Li Master said he would return home to fetch something for Sister Xie and bring breakfast.”
Xie Chang’an nodded absently, lost in thought.
Zhe Er had left the Bone-Illumination Realm over a month ago but had sent no word.
He had gone to the Crimson Frost Mountain to find his junior brother, Wu Qifeng, who should be familiar with every blade of grass there.
But after Xie Chang’an was pierced by Zhu Xuangguang's sword and fell off a cliff, she could no longer claim such familiarity.
Now, recalling that place felt like looking through a veil—hazy and indistinct, light and shadow intertwined, as if concealing unfathomable secrets.
---
On the day Zhu Xuangguang ascended to immortality, not only did she die, but Master She Yun died as well.
The Zhao Huang Sword, symbol of Crimson Frost Mountain’s fortune, was destroyed.
Though Zhu Xuangguang had become a celestial, casting off his mortal ties, he could not oversee Crimson Frost Mountain from above.
Without She Yun and the Zhao Huang Sword, Crimson Frost Mountain would collapse like a crumbling mountain, water and stone breaking apart, an impact beyond measure.
For a long time, Crimson Frost Mountain’s reputation was unrivaled, bolstered by Zhu Xuangguang, the world’s foremost cultivator, attracting countless disciples seeking mentorship.
Though Fu Guangshan and Nanyue Dongtian did not voice it, they harbored ambitions to supplant it.
At Xie Chang’an’s initiation ceremony, Wen Qin provoked her by sending his disciple Wang Ting to challenge her.
To many, this seemed reckless and self-inflicted humiliation. Wang Ting failed to dispel his inner demons and stagnated for years—a fitting retribution.
But in hindsight, Wen Qin’s provocation was a test, probing how much foundation Crimson Frost Mountain still retained through this newcomer.
Now, with Fu Guangshan no longer restrained by Master Canmiao, their ambition to become the top sect was unleashed.
They purged “traitors” like Zhe Er.
Seeing their rival Crimson Frost Mountain in crisis, would they miss the chance to strike?
Wu Qifeng’s call for help might well be a trap.
But who was the target?
They would not expend such effort merely to hunt down a lone fugitive.
Fu Guangshan probably did not know Zhe Er had survived and advanced, nor would they set such a trap for a broken dog.
The butterfly messengers might have been many, and one just happened to reach Zhe Er.
Xie Chang’an mulled over these thoughts but found no clear thread.
She folded the red paper into a butterfly several times.
Using her sealing brush, she sketched a few strokes on its wings and dotted two marks where the eyes would be.
The butterfly fluttered twice, instantly coming to life, its red color fading to near-transparent white.
When she released it, the butterfly flew away on its own.
The young monk watched curiously, having stopped sweeping.
Xie Chang’an folded a duck-shaped figure for him.
The little duck came to life, fluffy and adorable, following the monk, who laughed heartily.
“Have you heard of Crimson Frost Mountain and Fu Guangshan?” she asked.
The monk nodded. “Senior Brother just returned from traveling and mentioned them.”
Though appearing an ordinary temple with royal connections, Ci’en Temple was actually a sect.
But it was a small one; generations of abbots seemed content to maintain the temple in bustling Chang’an without expansion.
During the war, rebels burned and pillaged. Some civilians sought refuge in the temple, but the old abbot refused the rebels entry. Conflict ensued; the abbot died a martyr, disciples scattered and vanished. Only in recent years, after Chang’an’s recapture, have the former inhabitants gradually returned.
“Any news lately?” Xie Chang’an asked.
The monk replied, “They say the Ice Ruins will melt, ice pillars collapse, and an ancient great demon may awaken beneath. Several sects, including Fu Guangshan and Crimson Frost Mountain, have sent people to investigate.”
“Ice Ruins?”
The monk nodded. “Master says it’s north of the Northern Sea’s furthest point. Haven’t you heard?”
Xie Chang’an pondered. “Few have been there. Even if the ice pillars fall, it would be hard to detect quickly. How did they know?”
The monk gasped. “That was five years ago!”
It began when the Lord of Dream City observed strange stars over the Ice Ruins and alerted the sects. At the time, everyone was busy and paid little heed. But a few months ago, the ice pillars collapsed, affecting the Northern Sea's edge and Beizhu Mountain. Spiritual energy became chaotic, demons rampant.
Fearing disaster, the sects gathered cultivators to investigate and repair.
The monk said, “Senior Brother wanted to join the fun, but Master said our sect is small, not to hinder others. Now months have passed; they haven’t returned. Fixing the ice pillars and dealing with the demon must be difficult.”
Five years...
Xie Chang’an almost forgot that five years had passed since she left the Bone-Illumination Realm and fell from the cliff.
Five years is brief for cultivators but enough for many changes.
“Do you know who the sects sent?”
The monk replied, “Yes. Senior Brother said Crimson Frost Mountain sent Master Fang Qinglan, Fu Guangshan sent Wen Qin, Beizhu Mountain sent Master Xu Weique, Dream City Lord went personally, Nanyue Dongtian sent Elder Gao, Yunsheng Jiehailou sent the chief disciple... and others, but I forget. I’ll ask Senior Brother later.”
Seeing Xie Chang’an lost in thought, he quietly left with the duck.
When Li Chengying returned, he saw this scene:
The red-robed beauty stood beneath a leafless, withered tree, her flowing sleeves stirred by the wind like a peony blooming too early.
Though beautiful, the bare branches felt unsuitable.
Before Li Chengying could react, he instinctively drew a talisman from his sleeve and tossed it at the tree.
The talisman drifted gently onto the bark, instantly blossoming a tree full of peach blossoms!
Heavy branches showered delicate petals downward. The beauty turned back in surprise.
Peach blossoms framed her face, their rosy hues matching.
At last, the scene was complete.
Li Chengying smiled, carrying a basket of earthly delights.
“These are soup cakes from Yonghe Village and gourd chicken from Xingle Pavilion—always in short supply. If you go late, they’re gone. Sister, would you like to try?”
Xie Chang’an, who had been fasting, had only just learned of steamed buns that morning and now was offered soup cakes and gourd chicken.
She glanced at Li Chengying, then reached out to tear a piece of the cake, dipping it in broth and savoring it slowly.
This had been a rare delicacy even during her days in the Tang court, where such treats were reserves for festivals.
The legends and upheavals that followed were beyond her imagination.
Seeing her eat slowly, Li Chengying teased, “Not bad, right?”
She shot him a look.
Li Chengying asked, “What’s that look for?”
Xie Chang’an said, “You’re a bit annoying.”
Li Chengying: ...
She knew she was done with Zhu Xuangguang, and this man before her might be someone totally unrelated.
Yet seeing the identical face, she wanted to slap him out of the temple to wherever to cool off, but also wanted to keep him around to see what else might emerge behind that cat demon.
Li Chengying looked a bit wronged.
“I haven’t done anything. If I annoy you, I can wear a veil to cover my face.”
Xie Chang’an expressionless: “Even swaying around like that is annoying.”
Li Chengying: “Then I have a better proposal.”
Xie Chang’an: ?
Li Chengying: “I’ll become your disciple.”
Xie Chang’an: ??
Li Chengying explained, “Think about it: I have the same face as your enemy. As your student, you’re my master, my lifelong father. You can hit or scold me as you please. Whenever you think of your enemy, you can say I’m unskilled, find any excuse to punish or even kill me until you’ve vented your wrath.”
Xie Chang’an first suspected madness, then seeing his sincere, earnest expression without deceit, shifted her gaze behind him.
Li Chengying: “What is it?”
Xie Chang’an: “Check if you have a tail.”
He was baffled.
Xie Chang’an: “Do you happen to have another name—Yu Cui?”
Li Chengying: “...Huh?”