Wan Yu felt the heavy air before he saw the house.

"Wow. The late madame wasn't wrong. This really feels like trying to breathe in a hot spring."

"I don't know what sort of hot springs you've gotten into, then," Ye Xiyang said, looking around.

"I've never, I just jump into a creek in the middle of winter like a man," Wan Yu said dryly. "Shifu called it Duck Water-immersion Technique."

Ye Xiyang paused at that. Was the Immortal Master Ning Shan cut from the same cloth as his disciple? That would be… tragic.

"Did he?"

"No."

The old house was an oppressive silhouette, bringing discomfort just through proximity. Due to the fact that the total expansion of the Du family residence was done in steps and to accommodate different needs, the overall layout ended up like a box inside a box— and the old house was the smallest of the lot. Despite being the size of a modest house, it said a lot— for one, it spoke to how many neighboring houses Du Patriarch must've purchased. It also showcased their humble origins.

The madame stayed there until her death, despite the air.

"Small wonder the patriarch has nightmares," Wan Yu said, careful to keep his voice low. "Not because this place influences him with its aura or anything. But if he still has a conscience, ain't no way he feels at least guilty this is what the Seven-Petal Moonlotus Sect is doing to his house."

“Seven-Petal Moonlotus Sect?”

“Mm. Demonic sect, really rich, pretty sure is tiny. Could totally be a fake sect and a front to something else. Their people strike deals with businessmen and if their demands aren’t met, they supposedly take that person’s family and torture them for some rituals. Only heard of that from neighbors and gossipers, though. Who knows what happened for certain.”

“I’ve heard of generational blood being useful in several demonic rituals, since the relation can reinforce each other so it’s less… scattered, the energy. When they need a lot of blood, these people prefer it to be from one lineage. I don’t know what they use it for, though.”

Wan Yu made a face. “What… I don’t even want to think about it. That’s vile.”

Ye Xiyang chuckled. “It’s a demonic sect. What do you expect them to be like?”

An entire lineage, slaughtered for their blood. Wan Yu knew that these sects existed, but somehow a part of him thought these kinds of extreme means would be reserved for wartime.

“Did it happen in recent memory?”

“Usage of blood?” Ye Xiyang said. “Probably the last time the moon is full. Did you know that Thousand Edges School hunts down descendants of powerful weapons’ owners for their blood? The purer the better. They use the blood to calm down the weapon’s spirit so they can merge-smith it into one of their own.”

Wan Yu, “......”

“It’s mainly used when the nature of the two weapons are very different, though. For example, a righteous cultivator’s jian and the 6th Lord of Demonic Harmony's guqin. It’s not necessary for those with better synergy. The personal jian of the biggest righteous sects are all merged, don’t you know? Some of the marriages in the past had been related to what weapon the wife could bring into the sect; that’s why some sect leaders didn’t marry a person they love.”

He didn’t. Now this was making Wan Yu wonder if his shifu’s Storming Soul was…

“We’re getting sidetracked,” he said instead. “Tell me more about this later. Now, the house.”

The moment they stepped close, the doors slammed open. The sound echoed in the still night, followed by silence— not too far away, an old man groaned.

“Sharp ears,” Wan Yu commented.

Ye Xiyang, “......” More like he still had functioning ears.

The two of them entered the house. Once again, Silvergrass functioned as a floating torch, casting cold, white light— the shifting shadows too had a cold quality to them. They didn’t need to go far. Turning the corner, Wan Yu almost slapped the late madame’s face as she suddenly came into existence.

“Fu— that’s just playing cheap and dirty.” Leaning back a bit, Wan Yu eyed the late madame’s face, now far too close for comfort. Not a very happy ghost, her. Her sclerae were red, almost black in the shadows, and her protruding veins were dark, webbing her forehead— that, and she also had blood running down her cheeks. “Ma’am, should I wipe those tears for you?”

“Careful, her husband is next door,” Ye Xiyang said dryly.

“I’m not into married women,” Wan Yu said, finally taking a step back to distance himself. “Anyway, it’s probably just another illusion, so I don’t feel too bad.”

Ye Xiyang snorted. “Now I’m hoping it actually is her.”

“Of course you would. You only enjoy maximum chaos.”

“Not maximum. The finest.”

All right, all right, Wan Yu’s done talking with Ye-xiong. Every time he did, he ended up wondering why he even tried.

The madame disappeared, only to reappear a few paces down the hallway. The hall behind her turned pitch black, blood leaked from the wooden floor— as she stood in lament, golden flowers bloomed from between the cracks. It really was a spectacle, for these people. Wan Yu pulled out his dizi. The light-colored bamboo glinted in the white glow.

It was the tune he hummed before. With an instrument, Wan Yu played with a bit more finesse, starting the melody with a low, whisper-like note— following it was the sound of rustling leaves, before he rounded back to the peaceful melody of his childhood.

Many cultivators had their own way of pacifying the dead and the restless. Sects often had one passed down by the founder or other ancestors. The Frozen Dragon Sect, for one, had their Bell of Clarity— a large, tinkling handbell made of iron mined from the Slumbering Dragon Mountain, blessed by Lady Winter’s powers. Of course, Immortal Master Ning Shan would have his own.

A good tool was one that could still work in the hands of amateurs. A pacifying song would, without further effort from the cultivator, channel their energy through its notes— in Wan Yu’s hands, Ye Xiyang could sense the faint presence of water within the melody, as though the tune was flowing through a mountain creek on a rainy day.

But the mellow melody did nothing to the image of the late Du madame. As though frozen in her regrets, she remained still, the house falling apart around her.

“You know, I’m getting kinda sad for her,” Wan Yu said, slipping his dizi back into his qiankun sleeve. “Deceased, and yet her image remains restless… even if it’s not truly her, the fact that her likeness is used like this, doesn’t that signal a desperate cry from within the house?”

“It’s only the facade of her that’s being used,” Ye Xiyang said. “If anything, it signals that the person setting this all up knows how to unsettle this household.”

Well, yeah, Wan Yu thought with annoyance. But why go to these lengths?

Eh, whatever. Why was he arguing this with this Ye-xiong again?

“What you should be asking is, though, how they pulled this all off,” Ye Xiyang said. He tapped the end of his umbrella on the ground. “She appeared when you stepped round the corner. Either there’s a trigger there, or…”

“Or they’re watching us.” Wan Yu looked to the ceilings. “Either way, I doubt they would go through the hassle of putting whatever they’re using under the floorboards.”

Silvergrass switched jobs from being a lantern to being a lantern and a lift. Stepping onto it, Wan Yu then checked the beams. He pulled out a night pearl. “Oh, yikes. That’s one way to camouflage something, I guess.”

Covered in a layer of dust was a piece of paper— the talisman. Swiping it off, Wan Yu covered his nose and mouth with one sleeve as he squinted at the scrawls on it. “You seein’ me crisp and clear now, buddy? Here, I’m giving you a good look.”

It was a pretty good quality surveillance talisman. Though none existed that was good enough to give a full-picture sort of image of the room— that was reserved to magical artifacts— this talisman was good enough to discern between people, even normal mortals. Its main downside was the fact that it had a very limited scope of sight, which often wasn’t enough to cover a decently-sized room unless one pasted eight of the thing all over the walls. Still, it wasn’t useless. They didn’t come cheap either; even if the people doing this made it themselves, it took a lot of energy to keep it up. This type of cultivators was relatively rare, given the need for ample qi reserves, and the fact that most people wouldn’t have the patience and steady hand required.

Good talisman and array cultivators didn’t come cheap.

Taking off the surveillance talisman didn’t affect the illusion, but taking off the next ones sure did. It was dotted around the house in the form of an array— little wonder, then, that the image was so powerful here. By the time Wan Yu was done, all that remained of the illusion in the hallway was the glimmer of moonlight on the floorboards that her darkness obscured.

“One had to wonder what sort of hacks the Du family hired prior to your arrival,” Ye Xiyang commented.

“Yeah,” Wan Yu said. “Whatever, I get money.”

Of course this wasn’t the end of it. Wan Yu was interested in meeting the cultivators behind the entire play, which would go hand in hand with figuring out who orchestrated this. It wasn’t that he wanted to go off on them, but he would like to have a chat…

The door of the old house closed behind them with a gentle click.

“That was rather uneventful,” Ye Xiyang sighed. “A shame.”

“The finest chaos, got it.”

Now that they checked out the worst spots, they could leave the rest for later. Wan Yu was rather tired from everything today— while walking around he didn’t pay attention to it, but he really was on his feet from dawn to… whatever hour it was right now. Nearing midnight? Past it? It couldn’t have been too bad. But he was more than ready to go sleep, so he pivoted to the direction of the guest rooms.

Then he froze. His eyes narrowed. If the late madame was an illusion, then…

“Be right back.”

Heading back to the kitchen, Wan Yu started to contemplate. Whoever set this all up not only found good cultivators, but also wasn’t hesitant on scaring everyone senseless. That also meant that they had a callous streak in them— anyone less wouldn’t have thrown in falling plates into the mix. Wan Yu didn’t know enough people here to make guesses, given that he knew at most Du Yu’an and Li San. It… might not be strange if Du Yu’an was the one to do so, actually, given that his position would guarantee he had extensive connections. Successful businessmen tended to have a cold side to them too— good deals for one side can at times mean a bad one on the other end. He did mention that it was Du Patriarch who wanted Wan Yu here, not him.

After all, it used his mother as a… No. The fact that this was the late madame probably wasn’t a big clue. Who else could anyone use? She was the only notable deceased in the house, the only one whose appearance would shake the inhabitants’ hearts. If the concubine wasn’t alive and her image was used in this plot, would it have the same effect? Wan Yu doubted it.

The more important point was that whoever set this up was ready for someone to get hurt. Illusions to scare people was one thing. The knives and plates were another.

Wan Yu checked the outsides of the kitchen— nothing. He went to the tried-and-true, the beams. Thirteen talismans in total, browned lines of blood on them still crisp. Wan Yu plucked them off and hopped back down; wiping the dust off and washing his hand after, he studied it.

"Aah, shit. Who'd have guessed."

The kitchen didn’t have an illusion array, it had a different combination. It wasn't one that trapped negative energy within the room either, which would cause accidents to happen more often. It was one that allowed whoever activated it to move things within the area from afar. Initially created to synergize with intruder-detection arrays, this talisman had long been used for closed room assassinations, too. The only reason it wasn't used more often was because setting up both this long-distance control and a good surveillance array would’ve cost more energy than stabbing the dude and running out. In this case, though, the cultivators only used basic surveillance; everyone would’ve looked the same, cultivators might shine a bit more brightly. It was basically aiming knives by throwing a die—

Fuck. It could've been a servant who got stabbed.

Were these people for real?

"What a bunch of inconsiderate assholes," Wan Yu murmured.

He better finish this quick. Not because of mounting dangers— he was just pissed.

Ye Xiyang wasn't waiting by the old house, but Wan Yu found him in the hallways to their guest rooms, inspecting the ceiling at a corner. When he heard Wan Yu, he turned around with a smile.

"Surveillance," he said. Wan Yu shot the beam a dirty look.

"Probably started because of the previous cultivators the family contacted. Burn it off if you want."

Ye Xiyang's smile twitched. "Oh? You don't like being watched as you sleep?"

"Bah. They can go ahead and watch me, I guess, so long as I don't turn into a guest of their spring dreams."

Then again, they could try. Let's see how enticing a human-shaped blob glowing could be.

Ye Xiyang laughed as Wan Yu entered his room and flopped onto the bed, eyelid heavy. Moments later, the door the next room over creaked open before shutting close.

The body did what it always did, and in Wan Yu's case, it woke him up at dawn.

Barely anyone was up and about— only the servants. He contemplated going to see them, but that'd just give them unnecessary trouble at a time when they had a lot to do. He could sleep in, but trying to fall asleep again after waking up would probably take up the majority of his free time. He could wander around or even out of this residence, he supposed…

In the end, he went to the markets. The only ones open at this hour were those selling fresh catches or vegetables, all foodstuffs, but he had fun.

He slipped back into his room through the windows. The sun was bright now, the light beating down gaining a yellow tint after the pale gray of sunrise, and everyone probably was already woken up by it streaming through the window slits. Wan Yu turned around.

“Fuc—”

Ye Xiyang chuckled, flapping his fan. The stupid thing turned the air cold, because of course this pampered master would have that sort of useless magical artifact.

“What are you doing in my room? To assault me in my sleep?”

“I don’t need that sort of overwhelming advantage,” Ye Xiyang said. That infuriating smile twitched his cheek. “Had fun outside?”

Wan Yu shot him a dirty look, walking past him to the door. “I got melon seeds.”

Never eaten that. Smiling in amusement, Ye Xiyang followed him, where he almost bumped into a servant coming over to fetch them.

The Du family house looked a lot different in daylight, the new section especially. The walls diffused the golden glow into something easy on the eyes. Carved flowers basked in the morning sun, looking as lively as the trees in the courtyard. Everything looked as new as late spring, more well-thought-out and polished. Wan Yu slowed his pace to take in the details.

There was only one person at the table when they arrived at the courtyard— a young man that looked about Wan Yu’s age, perhaps a bit younger. On his face was cold boredom, a strong contrast to the rather festive array of food laid out in front of him. That boredom left for a fleeting second at the sounds of footsteps, replaced by an unreadable expression, but it soon schooled back to normal when he noticed that it was Wan Yu and Ye Xiyang.

Huh. Interesting. This must be Du Yuxun.

Before Wan Yu could say something, thought, another pair of footsteps made all heads turn. It was Du Yu’an, lagging just slightly behind Du Patriarch who was leaning on his cane, taking step after slow step.

The Du Patriarch now looked whittled down from exhaustion and sickness, but Wan Yu could imagine him a more robust person in his youth. There was fierceness set in his eyebrows, one Wan Yu could also see on Du Yuxun— old age hadn’t softened it any, and Wan Yu expected his temper to match the deep lines on his forehead, too. Once everyone sat down, Du Patriarch turned to him, eyes appraising.

“So this is the immortal Wan Yu. Young.”

“My shifu sent me down the mountain when I was fifteen, so I have been roaming for the past four years,” Wan Yu said. Breakfast started. “He wanted me to gather my own experiences and to tell him what I’ve learned when I return at age twenty. I’d hoped to tell him some good things, so he could at least rest his old bones.”

“I’ve heard good things about you,” Du Patriarch said, nodding. He took a spoonful of his congee, sighing afterwards. “Old Jiang wasn’t lying, you really do bring quick results. Last night, I was woken up by nightmares and then that slamming door. But soon after, I heard a melody, extremely soothing— I fell back asleep, and didn’t have any dreams the rest of the night. I take it you were the one playing?”

Wan Yu shot Ye Xiyang a glance. Ye Xiyang shot him one back that said, ‘good for you’.

Ugh. Unhelpful.

“It was a song to bring peace to the restless; though I wasn’t expecting it to be heard that far away, I’m glad it could be of help.”

Du Patriarch’s face turned grave. “My wife?”

“We managed to soothe her some, so there shouldn’t be any more incidents in the kitchens. The most recent one was a close call, but please let the servants know they shouldn’t worry about it anymore.”

Du Yu’an frowned. “Close call?”

“A plate fell, only for a knife to also tumble down right after as I tried to grab it,” Wan Yu said. “Nobody got hurt, but it scared Li-jie quite a bit. But as I said, I should’ve already taken care of it.”

Du Yuxun paused mid-bite, looking rather disturbed. Well, at least this kid seemed to have a heart.

“It’s no good to talk about these kinds of things at the dining table,” Wan Yu said, waving his hand. “I didn’t get a good look, having arrived at night, but the carving on everything looks almost lifelike. It’s really amazing, especially that one of camellias and chrysanthemums on the doorway.”

The Du Patriarch laughed. “That one… yes, it’s from several years back. It’s not as good as it could’ve been, but in the recent years Old Liu improved on his craft, too. Have you seen the guqin put up? That one’s Xun’er’s creation.”

This family really was proud of their second son. The second concubine must be happy with her son.

“I have,” Wan Yu said, nodding. “Du-gongzi told me about it. It humbles one, knowing that it’s done by someone so young.”

Du Patriarch let out an amused huff, pushing his bowl forward. Du Yu’an refilled it. “Xun’er is twenty this year. This immortal is nineteen, isn’t he?”

“Oh, I couldn’t have done something similar,” Wan Yu joked. “My shifu always had to give me a reprimanding look every other incense’s time as I get distracted so easily. The level of focus required in these crafts is really admirable.”

Ye Xiyang let out a noise that Wan Yu had grown more familiar with and could interpret— it was that mocking sort of cough where he expressed his annoyance-amusement at Wan Yu’s “flattery” in one succinct sound. Well, Ye-xiong can suck it. Wan Yu had things to do.

“Us mortals can’t hope to compete with the level of competence true immortals have,” Du Patriarch sighed. “Truly unlike the crooks who just try to swindle others. You know, things weren’t as bad before, it only got worse after we hired those two no-good liars to see to the issue. It was good I got a recommendation from Old Jiang, and that you happened to be nearby. My first son already asked the Vermillion Sun Sect, but they said we’d have to wait two more months… I fear by then, our workshop would already have been destroyed by falling logs.”

Wan Yu and Ye Xiyang glanced at each other. “There had been things happening in the workshop, too?”