Su Li settled into the Imperial Advisor’s residence.
Zhuge Yu tried every possible way to flatter and curry favor with him, coming to check on him every so often, almost as if following the rules of morning and evening greetings. He was afraid Su Li might not have enough to eat, might not be dressed warmly enough, or might not sleep comfortably. Every day, he asked several times whether anything was missing or whether Su Li needed or wanted anything.
What Su Li wanted most was peace and quiet.
Only when things were quiet could he concentrate on improving his incantations and drawing new magical artifacts. With someone constantly chattering in his ear all day long, who could get any proper work done?
Strictly speaking, this wasn’t actually the main business he had come here to do. His master had told him to descend the mountain to find someone and settle his karma, but Su Li didn’t feel that he owed that person anything, so he didn’t know how he was supposed to settle it.
His master, however, said it was fine. Heaven had its own arrangements, and such a great fated connection was predestined. As long as Su Li followed Heaven’s will and went where he was supposed to go, he could leave the rest to fate.
Su Li didn’t really like talk of Heaven and fate. It made it sound as if his entire life had already been arranged and he had no say in it.
But his master liked talking that way, so Su Li let him be.
Su Li didn’t believe that if he spent every day shut in his room, working away at spells and refining scrap iron, that so-called great fated connection would simply fall from the sky and land on his head.
He spent his days shut away in the Imperial Advisor’s residence. Whenever he had free time, he accepted Zhuge Yu’s invitations to stroll through the gardens and see the capital’s prosperity. When he was in a good mood, he went to the Imperial Observatory to teach and pass on his knowledge.
There wasn’t much he could teach the disciples, because his master said that the spells he had developed were too destructive. If they fell into the hands of someone with ulterior motives, they could easily cause chaos. Therefore, he was only allowed to teach basic techniques and pass on magical artifacts that had a low barrier to use but were highly practical, such as the Soul-Weeping Coins.
The Soul-Weeping Coins could directly detect yin energy. Even if placed in an ordinary household, they could serve as a protective charm against evil spirits. They were suitable for both the young and the old.
Since Su Li had been eating and drinking for free all this time, he gave every residence and courtyard within the Imperial Advisor’s estate a set of Soul-Weeping Coins in return. Later, he found the things too simple and boring to make, so he simply gave them the blueprints and instructions as well, letting them make their own if they were interested.
For Su Li, his days in the capital were dull and boring.
It wasn’t until about half a month after he arrived in the capital that Zhuge Yu came to see him one day and told him that the current emperor had heard of his name long ago and admired him greatly. Now that the emperor had learned he had come to the capital, he wanted to invite him into the palace as an honored guest for a meeting.
Su Li refused without even thinking about it.
He had no interest in those imperial nobles. As someone who cultivated the Dao, he also didn’t want worldly splendor to stain him.
After being rejected, Zhuge Yu did not insist. He dropped the subject and didn’t mention it again. The following day, he merely told Su Li that the emperor heard he often taught and passed on his knowledge at the Imperial Observatory. The emperor wanted to give him an official position that would make it convenient for him to move around, but none seemed suitable. In the end, he bestowed upon him a Five-Clawed Golden Dragon Token. With it, Su Li could freely enter and leave any part of the capital, including the imperial palace, and could also punish anyone as he pleased.
He also said that this was a small token of His Majesty’s goodwill.
But Su Li sneered inwardly.
What goodwill? What token of goodwill?
Zhuge Yu had money, so he gave him money. The old emperor had power, so he gave him power. In reality, these people were all trying every possible way to exchange things he was interested in for what they wanted from him.
So Su Li asked him directly,
“What does he want me to do for him?”
“This…”
His carefully laid groundwork had suddenly been exposed, leaving Zhuge Yu somewhat embarrassed.
He forced a smile, took a neatly folded piece of yellow paper from his sleeve, and handed it to Su Li with both hands.
“His Majesty merely wishes to trouble Grand-Master with calculating the fate of Great Li, as well as the blessings, calamities, fated connections, and tribulations awaiting His Majesty in this lifetime, so that you may offer guidance to the country and the imperial family.”
“He wants too much. If I tell him everything one by one, he won’t be able to bear it.”
Such an outrageously disrespectful remark came so casually from Su Li’s mouth. Although they were currently in his own residence and the servants had been dismissed, Zhuge Yu still instinctively looked around to make sure no one else had heard.
Then he lowered his voice and reminded him,
“…Grand-Master, you can’t put it that way. This is a grave act of disrespect.”
“We’re all mortal bodies. Birth, old age, sickness, and death are perfectly normal. Why can’t I say it? Does that mean if I say the word ‘death,’ I’ll really be able to affect his fate?”
Su Li reached out and took the paper. He unfolded it with one hand and glanced at it, seeing the emperor’s name and birth date and time written on it.
He paid little attention to it, simply turned around and held the paper over a candlestick to set it alight. Then, as he watched the thin, pale-gray smoke rising from the burning yellow paper, he casually made a few calculations.
“His lucky star is connected to military affairs. Pay attention to the war in the north. His calamity star is connected to this as well. Blessings and misfortunes depend on one another. I can’t say much more. It depends on his own fortune.”
On hearing this, Zhuge Yu was slightly taken aback, but he didn’t say much. He chatted with Su Li about a few more trivial matters before leaving.
Meanwhile, Su Li sat behind the table, playing with the Five-Clawed Golden Dragon Token Zhuge Yu had left behind. His fingertips slowly rubbed over its exquisite, delicate relief carvings, and the corners of his lips curved up slightly.
This Five-Clawed Golden Dragon Token heralded a major change at the Imperial Observatory. Su Li only hoped that the old emperor wouldn’t change his mind at the last minute and demand that the item be returned.
Over the next three days, Su Li practically lived at the Imperial Observatory. He did only one thing: one by one, he dealt with those who had defied him in recent days, those who had spoken ill of him behind his back, those who looked down on him because of his age, those who couldn’t even see underworld spirits yet spent their days eating government salaries for doing nothing, those who were arrogant and refused discipline, those who threw their weight around and bullied others by relying on their family backgrounds, and those who didn’t pay attention in class.
Those who needed to get lost were sent packing. Those who needed to be demoted were demoted. Those who had relied on social connections and family backgrounds to obtain official positions at the Imperial Observatory, despite doing no real work and learning nothing, were all sent to the back mountain to do menial labor.
They refused to accept it and wanted to make trouble? Making trouble was useless.
The old emperor had personally bestowed the Five-Clawed Golden Dragon Token upon him and told him he could deal with anyone as he pleased. He(Su Li) had already paid the price for it, so naturally, he couldn’t let down the authority he rightfully deserved.
His sweeping actions and decisive methods caused panic throughout the Imperial Observatory. One after another, people submitted complaints to Zhuge Yu, hoping that the Imperial Advisor would once again stand up for them.
But how could Zhuge Yu make that decision?
As one report after another reached his ears, Zhuge Yu could hardly find a moment’s peace. He was very troubled but couldn’t say anything. After all, it was the emperor who had handed over the authority, and it was Grand-Master who was causing trouble. Caught in the middle, he dared not offend either side and could only drag things out.
As a result, Su Li temporarily became the number one demon of the Imperial Observatory, and his reputation spread throughout the capital, leaving officials with even the slightest connection to the Imperial Observatory anxious and afraid that one day this demon would come after them.
But they were worrying far too much. Su Li had no such interest.
He only dealt with the people who had been wandering around in front of him lately, getting on his nerves and making themselves unbearable. As for other people or things unrelated to him, he couldn’t be bothered to spare them even a glance.
“Grand-Master, I have a question I’d like to ask you about.”
Inside an elegant pavilion at the Imperial Observatory, Fu Sang was sitting by the window, examining a string of copper bells against the light when he suddenly heard someone knock on the door. A gentle voice floated in from outside, and Su Li knew who it was as soon as he heard it.
“Come in.”
With a creak, the door opened. The girl in the light green dress had come without a maid and pushed her own wheelchair into the room.
Su Li raised his eyes and glanced at her.
He knew she was Zhuge Yu’s most beloved granddaughter, named Zhuge Qiyu.
Unlike Zhuge Yu, who clearly had seven orifices in his heart and was skilled at scheming, Zhuge Qiyu was only interested in the talismans, spells, and techniques of the Nether Path. During this period, she never missed any of Su Li’s lessons. Not only did she study the most diligently, but her talent was also the most outstanding. Therefore, Su Li didn’t mind giving her some extra guidance outside class.
“Grand-Master, I made the Soul-Weeping Coins according to the blueprint you gave me, but for some reason, their response to yin energy is very sluggish. They only give a warning when an underworld spirit drifts right in front of me and the yin energy has gathered to a certain degree. They seem different from the ones Grand-Master gave me before, but I don’t know where the problem lies… This disciple is foolish. I ask Grand-Master to enlighten me.”
Zhuge Qiyu held out the string of Soul-Weeping Coins with both hands.
Seeing this, Su Li put down the copper bells in his hand and picked up the coins instead, examining them in the light from the window.
To be fair, while others were still scratching their heads over the talisman scripts and incantations in the blueprints Su Li had given them, Zhuge Qiyu had already managed to make a fairly convincing finished product. That was quite impressive.
“The problem is with the sealing-soil step. You chose the wrong soil.”
Su Li knew with one glance where she had gone wrong. He returned the Soul-Weeping Coins to Zhuge Qiyu and explained.
“I used the soil from the garden at home, the kind used for growing flowers,” Zhuge Qiyu explained.
“That won’t work. You need soil that carries resentment, preferably soil from a place where someone has been buried.”
Su Li nodded toward Zhuge Qiyu.
“There is a place like that on the back mountain of the Imperial Observatory. Go find it yourself.”
“Yes…” Zhuge Qiyu nodded and put away the Soul-Weeping Coins. She originally intended to leave, but after hesitating for a moment, she looked at Su Li again and said,
“Grand-Master, there is something I don’t know whether I should tell you…”
“If you have something to say, just say it.” Su Li hated people who beat around the bush.
“Yesterday, His Majesty summoned my grandfather to the palace and told him that there have been many battles along the northwestern frontier, with countless soldiers dying in every battle. Their souls remain on the battlefield, unable to return home, which is truly a pity. So he wants my grandfather to send a suitable person with the army to the northwest to perform a ritual to appease the souls of the dead and resolve their grievances. From what my grandfather said… His Majesty seems to have you in mind. Someone will probably be sent to invite you today.”
Hearing this, Su Li frowned.
“What kind of thing is that emperor? He even wants to order me around and make me work for him?”
These words startled Zhuge Qiyu.
“Grand-Master, you must not say such things carelessly. If someone hears you, it will be a capital offense punishable by beheading…”
“Then let them kill me. Let me die. If he thinks he’s worthy of taking my life, then let him come and take it.”
Su Li sneered.
How could he not know what the emperor was plotting?
Most likely, his earlier statement that “both the lucky star and the calamity star are connected to military affairs” had given the emperor some ideas. Perhaps he began reflecting on how he owed something to the soldiers who guarded his empire and felt uneasy about it. So he would send someone to perform a ritual for the dead souls, just to go through the motions and accumulate a little good fortune for himself.
Putting on an act. He shouldn’t have been an emperor; he should have built a stage and gone to perform in an opera instead.
On the other hand, perhaps the emperor thought he had caused too much of a stir at the Imperial Observatory over the past two days and wanted to find an excuse to send him away.
The old emperor really thought he was the ruler of all under Heaven and could freely dictate where he went?
Su Li sneered inwardly, and his disgust and disdain were equally apparent on his face.
Zhuge Qiyu knew she shouldn’t keep listening, so she prepared to take her leave. But as she was leaving, Su Li suddenly asked,
“Where are you going?”
“To the back mountain to find some new soil. Grand-Master… is there something you need?”
“Your legs aren’t convenient. I’ll go for you.”
“…?”
The remark clearly caught Zhuge Qiyu completely off guard.
By the time she recovered, Su Li had already strode out the door.
Naturally, Su Li didn’t genuinely think Zhuge Qiyu was unable to climb the slope because of her legs.
She was a young lady of a prominent family. Who couldn’t she order around? Even if she really did have to go herself, what did that have to do with him?
It was simply that Zhuge Qiyu had told him about this matter, so he had to find a way to settle the karma between them. Rather than look for an opportunity later, he might as well take advantage of this ready-made one.
Thus, Su Li took a winding route toward the back mountain. Along the way, he even made a detour to the courtyard at the foot of the mountain where the laborers rested. He went into the storage room, picked out a tool that was barely suitable for the job, then carried it up the mountain.
Back when he lived on the mountain, his master had always tried every possible way to dress him up in a refined and flamboyant manner. Now that he was traveling alone, for the sake of convenience and ease of care, he basically wore whatever was available. For example, today he had been working on magical artifacts, so he had deliberately changed into a set of stain-resistant laborers’ clothes that allowed him to blend perfectly into the crowd.
After finding the patch of sloping ground halfway up the mountain where dead people had been buried and resentment had accumulated, Su Li calculated a suitable angle, crouched down, and began digging with a small shovel.
There were some wounds on his arms, with new injuries layered over old ones, all caused by carelessness while making magical artifacts.
He wasn’t particularly averse to pain. Since it didn’t get in the way, he simply let the wounds remain on his body. He didn’t mind getting new ones either. He would forget about them all eventually, anyway.
The shovel still felt awkward and difficult to use, so Su Li simply threw it aside and began digging with his bare hands. He didn’t care when a shard of stone beneath the soil cut his hand or when the blood flowing from the wound soaked into the earth.
He had to dig to the deepest layer and find soil that had once been in contact with corpses. That was where the resentment was strongest, and Soul-Weeping Coins cultivated with such soil would be the most spiritually attuned.
Just as Su Li was thinking this, he suddenly heard another set of footsteps coming from the side.
There were many laborer disciples on the back mountain planting vegetation and cleaning up filth. Su Li had already chosen one of the most secluded spots. Who knew someone would still approach him?
Hearing those footsteps, an ominous premonition faintly rose in his heart, making Su Li frown irritably.
He thought that whoever this person was, they had better not come and bother him.
“…Hey, so you’re here?”
Unfortunately, things in life often went against one’s wishes. Not only did the person approach, but he even took the initiative to speak to him.
As the other person came closer, Su Li also caught a faint scent of lilies drifting from him, a fragrance completely out of place in the autumn mountains and forests.
Su Li instinctively felt that the scent was somewhat familiar.
But he didn’t look up. He pretended he hadn’t heard or smelled anything and continued doing what he was doing with his eyes lowered.
It wasn’t until a little later that a patch of crimson-red clothing entered his field of vision.
“You’re injured,” he heard the person say.
What kind of idle busybody was this, sticking his nose into other people’s affairs?
“Do you need to remind me?”
Su Li’s voice was cold. He felt he had made his refusal obvious enough, but the person seemed not to have heard him and continued asking,
“It must hurt a lot…”
“It’s none of your business.”
“What are you digging? Can I help you?”
“Scram.”
Su Li stopped pretending altogether and showed no politeness whatsoever. He just wanted this person who had inexplicably appeared out of nowhere and couldn’t understand what others were saying to get lost.
What was it? Had he never heard of his name, or did he really mistake him for a laborer? Just how much courage did this person have, and how many lives, to dare disturb him like this?
Su Li thought that by this point, anyone should have noticed his hostility and promptly backed away.
But the person fell silent for a moment, then chuckled instead.
“You little brat, why are you so fierce?”
“?” Unable to endure it any longer, Su Li finally raised his eyes to look at this busybody who had nothing better to do and wouldn’t leave even when told.
It was a clear, pleasant afternoon in early autumn that year.
Su Li looked up and saw that the annoying ghost who had come to his side was a young man of sixteen or seventeen.
He was half-kneeling beside him, dressed in a crimson martial outfit. His long hair was tied into a high ponytail that fell over his shoulder. His features were handsome, his eyes bright as stars, and a faint smile played at the corners of his eyes and lips.
The afternoon sunlight passed through the forest, squeezed into thin strands by the leaves, and spilled over him, illuminating his hair until it looked golden.
Perhaps the light was too dazzling, or perhaps for some other reason, Su Li was momentarily lost in thought.
And in that brief moment of blankness, he heard the young man say gently, with a smile in his voice,
“I’ve heard of you before, Qiyueban. Rumor has it that you are vindictive and have unpredictable moods. You’re the Imperial Advisor’s uncle and also his Grand-Master, and you’re a complete demon. I thought I’d see an old man even older and more aloof than the Imperial Advisor, but I never expected you to be so young. So… you’re a little demon.”
The last sentence came with a chuckle. It was clearly a teasing remark without any malice.
Su Li frowned. When he spoke again, his choice of words was still unfriendly, but his tone was no longer as harsh as before.
“Scram.”
“Did I upset you with what I said? Sorry. The Imperial Advisor sent me here to find you. My name is Qi Changying. What’s yours?”
He had already said his name was Qiyueban, so why was he asking? What other name could he possibly have?
His birth name hadn’t been used for a long time, and no one had called him by it either. What did this person think he was, to believe he had the right to know?
“…”
Su Li lowered his head, feeling irritated. He was originally too lazy to deal with this person. But after remaining silent for a long time, for some unknown reason, he still answered in a muffled voice, speaking quickly.
“Su Li.”
Qi Changying thought for a moment.
“Su Li… that’s a nice name. Which characters is it written with?”
So many questions.
He answered one, and there was another.
Su Li wanted to bury Qi Changying in the hole beneath his hands.
The hole was too small to bury an entire person, but burying just his head so he couldn’t speak and disturb the peace would be just right.
He thought this viciously, but in the end, he still magnanimously answered the question.
“Su as in ‘to retrace.’
“Li as in ‘separation.’”
Author’s Note: (Warning) The following part of this arc will contain a lethal dose of the lovers’ past events.
