71: Bait (Part One)

Seeing Ning Caichen with his head lowered, Yifan couldn’t be bothered to speak further. He snorted coldly and walked away, but after a few steps, he noticed the scholar carrying his basket of books, following behind.

“Why are you trailing after me?” Yifan asked.

Ning Caichen forced a smile and said nothing, leaving Yifan exasperated. “Afraid now, are you? If you’re scared, leave early tomorrow and don’t come back.” Seeing the scholar still following him, he scolded, “Go back and rest. That demoness won’t return tonight.”

With those words, he leapt onto the rooftop, and with swift steps, exited Lanruo Temple, heading toward the Daoist temple.

Ning Caichen wanted to keep up, but Yifan moved too quickly and disappeared in the blink of an eye. Helpless, he hurried back into the hall, shut the door, and propped it up with a wooden plank. Still uneasy, he dragged some broken boards to jam the windows.

After all this busywork, he finally relaxed, though the gaping hole nearby and the many dried corpses below made him uneasy. He stoked the fire higher, widened his eyes, and dared not sleep.

Late into the night, he suddenly heard knocking at the door, startling him. “Who—who’s there?” he called.

There was no reply from outside, which made him even more frightened. He grabbed a stick, stood before the door, and stared at it intently, waiting. After a while, the knocking ceased.

Perhaps it was just the wind, he sighed in relief and was about to lower the stick when a noise behind him made his face go pale.

He spun around to see a graceful young woman perched atop the wooden table, swinging her feet. She laughed softly, “What a fool you are, your face is white with fright.”

Ning Caichen trembled, inwardly lamenting—wasn’t Nie Xiaoqian supposed not to return tonight?

It took him a long moment before he finally spoke, “Why—why did you come back?”

Nie Xiaoqian pouted, “Is this your home?”

Ning Caichen was speechless, unsure how to respond, but his grip on the stick tightened. He wanted to run but couldn’t move, afraid Nie Xiaoqian would suddenly attack.

“So, the Daoist told you everything?” Nie Xiaoqian lowered her gaze, her smile ambiguous as she looked at the scholar.

“No, no, he didn’t say anything,” Ning Caichen replied in fright, hastily explaining, “And that Daoist may return soon, you’d better leave quickly before he finds you.”

“Seems to me you just want me gone,” Nie Xiaoqian said coldly. “The Daoist was right—I am a ghost, and I’ve killed many people. Are you afraid?”

Ning Caichen shuddered, his face paler still. He swallowed, tried to speak, but his mouth opened and closed without a word.

“Boring. I thought I’d met someone interesting, but you’re just another ordinary person.” Nie Xiaoqian hopped off the table, walked forward a few steps, then stopped. “Don’t worry, you helped me once—I won’t kill you. Tomorrow, leave as far away as you can, and don’t let me see you again.”

With that, she strode outside, waved her hand, and the wooden boards flew aside, the temple doors swung open.

“Miss Nie, you—I…” Ning Caichen’s expression was complicated. He stepped forward, wanting to say something but unable to find the words.

Nie Xiaoqian paused, then twirled and flew out, vanishing into the darkness, leaving Ning Caichen standing there with words left unspoken.

—

The next morning, as Yifan stepped outside, he saw Chen Lan approaching. “Master, someone just delivered a letter for you.”

“A letter?” Yifan took it and saw it was sent by Daoist Zhao. Last night, he and Master Yuanlin had captured several female ghosts and saved some villagers, but as those ghosts revealed the tree demon’s lair, they suddenly dissipated into nothing.

Dispersed souls?

Yifan pondered. The tree demon must possess some secret art to control these ghosts, so that whenever they divulged its secrets, the curse would be triggered and they’d perish.

Suddenly, the ghost-repelling creature let out an urgent cry and appeared, carrying someone on its back. Looking closely, it was Ning Caichen.

Upon seeing Yifan, the creature tossed Ning Caichen to the ground, then grinned and gesticulated excitedly.

Yifan stepped forward, checked Ning Caichen’s breath—he was still alive. He frowned, “You say you were picking wild fruit in the mountains and found him in a ravine?”

The creature nodded, grinned again, then hopped off to amuse itself.

Yifan ignored it, noting Ning Caichen’s filthy appearance, his clothes tattered and stained with blood. Who knew what he’d endured to end up like this?

He dragged Ning Caichen to a corner and left him alone.

By midday, Ning Caichen awoke. Seeing the unfamiliar surroundings, he cried out in alarm, hurriedly checked himself, and relaxed when he found no missing limbs.

“Why the commotion? Didn’t I tell you to leave early? How did you end up unconscious in a ravine? What happened?” Yifan sat in the courtyard with a teacup, his expression calm as he asked.

Seeing Yifan, Ning Caichen scrambled to his feet and rushed forward. “Master, at last I’ve found you!”

“What do you want from me?” Yifan asked, puzzled.

“Last night I searched all over Lanruo Temple and couldn’t find you. So I followed your path, but the mountain roads were treacherous and I fell into a ravine. Luckily, I survived.”

Ning Caichen forced a smile, glanced around, then spoke cautiously, “Last night, I saw Miss Xiaoqian.”

Nie Xiaoqian?

Yifan was startled, set down his tea, narrowed his eyes, and snorted, “I didn’t expect that demoness to show herself again. She’s bold, I’ll give her that.”

He hadn’t thought Nie Xiaoqian would dare return, unafraid of him waiting at Lanruo Temple.

“Master, Xiaoqian may be a ghost, but I believe she’s a good spirit. Even if she’s harmed many, it must have been against her will.”

Ning Caichen paused, then pleaded, “Please, Master, spare her.”

“Nonsense! You scholars have read yourselves into stupidity,” Yifan snapped. “What ‘against her will’ could justify killing so many innocent people?”

With that, he grabbed Ning Caichen by the collar and, without giving him a chance to protest, tossed him out of the temple. “Get out! Don’t let me see you again!”

Ning Caichen picked himself up, about to speak, when the temple doors slammed shut with a bang. He closed his mouth, sat dejectedly outside, lost in thought.

Near dusk, after dinner, Chen Lan hesitated and said, “Master, the scholar is still outside. We shouldn’t let him starve or die of thirst.”

“If he does, it’s his own fault. Leave him be,” Yifan snapped, thinking of Ning Caichen and feeling anger rise. To say such things—he’s unworthy of being a scholar.

Chen Lan could only drop the matter, quietly tidying the kitchen. Chen Nier sat obediently nearby, leaning against the ghost-repelling creature in a daze.

That night, Yifan planned to return to Lanruo Temple to stand guard. As darkness had not yet fallen, he packed some dry rations and water for emergencies, then stepped outside—only to find Ning Caichen had fainted again at the door.

(Chapter Two)