Thus, Hulü Guang learned to call Xiang Xian “Master” like Wu Yingzong and even entered Kunlun Mountain’s Immortal Realm.
If his master were the Gaochang King, he would have been made to wait under the White Jade Palace at Jade Bead Peak’s stele, never granted a slave’s chance to worship immortals.
Yet he not only ate and lived with them but saw a dragon with his own eyes.
Xiang Xian even joked, “Now you’re the dragon’s disciple.”
This was the first time in Hulü Guang’s life he truly tasted “equality.” The feeling was strange, leaving him fearful and at a loss, yet somehow it felt right, as it should be.
He sat under the front courtyard’s eaves, trying on the black boots Wu Yingzong had prepared. Wu Yingzong was meticulous; the custom clothes fit perfectly, shoes and socks included, no different from the others’ despite his slave origins—everything proper was there.
“Back in Gaochang,” Hulü Guang laughed to Mu Qingshan, “slaves had no shirts, just pants, and no boots.”
Mu Qingshan sat beside him, watching him change shoes. “No wonder you like going shirtless.”
Hulü Guang: “Those leather clogs were a reward from His Majesty the King; otherwise, I’d have been barefoot.”
“You look like a different person in Han clothes,” Mu Qingshan said.
“Yeah?” Hulü Guang replied. “But I’m still not used to shirts. You too.”
Mu Qingshan eyed Hulü Guang for a moment. Hulü Guang finished changing as a light rain began outside. He sat lost in thought, Chaosheng’s laughter echoing from the inner hall.
“Let’s go.” Wu Yingzong led Chaosheng out, the group ready for the banquet. He reminded Hulü Guang repeatedly—among the three, Wu Yingzong feared Hulü Guang’s loose tongue most. Chaosheng could be managed, but Hulü Guang couldn’t; who knew what friend he’d make and start bro-ing out with.
“I’ll drive the cart!” Hulü Guang said.
“No need.” Wu Yingzong had him get in the carriage, already hired with a driver. “You need to look like a martial official.”
Xiang Xian and Xiao Kun had discussed assigning positions to their companions; aimless mixing wasn’t sustainable. Wu Yingzong, as former housekeeper, had rank and pay; the others should be registered as exorcists for legitimacy in future demon captures—and to claim government funds. More people meant more costs; Xiao Kun and Xiang Xian’s salaries could sustain now, but recruiting more would bankrupt them eventually.
“Wow,” Chaosheng laughed, “Bai Ju Er! You look great!”
“Yeah?” Hulü Guang mimicked Xiao Kun, sitting straight in the carriage’s center seat, hands on knees, exuding Grand Demon-Exorcist vibes. With the Heart Lamp inside him, his features appeared warm and jade-like under its influence. “Do I look like Master?”
“Don’t ape him poorly—Master would never sit like that,” Wu Yingzong said.
“He’d lie down before sitting; once in the cart, he’d sprawl anywhere,” Chaosheng said. “When you don’t smile, you have Kun-ge’s aura.”
“Don’t speak,” Mu Qingshan said. “You almost look the part.”
Hulü Guang tried to stay stern but lasted only moments before bursting into laughter. The carriage grew noisy, giving Wu Yingzong a daily headache from their racket.
“So handsome! So handsome!” Chaosheng reached to touch, then worriedly asked Wu Yingzong, “Can I touch him?”
Wu Yingzong was exasperated. “Why ask me? Ask him!”
Chaosheng laughed and reached to stroke Hulü Guang. Moments later, Mu Qingshan joined in, rubbing him too. They groped Hulü Guang all over; he laughed and dodged lightly, never angry, face flushed, clothes disheveled, utterly delighted.
“Stop fooling around,” Wu Yingzong said. “We’re here.”
“Exorcism Division’s honored guests arrive—” the door attendants announced.
Chaosheng: “Their stone lions sound like people.”
Mu Qingshan: “That’s because they are people, not stone lions. They use men at the door to call out.”
Cai Tuo heard “Exorcism Division” and immediately set aside his guests to greet them personally. Seeing Wu Yingzong, he warmly approached, laughing, “Brother Wu!”
Cai Tuo shook hands with Wu Yingzong first, then clapped his shoulder. Wu Yingzong merely nodded slightly and said, “My Master and Lord Xiao have returned to Kuaiji for mourning.”
“I heard. Come, esteemed immortals, this way.” Cai Tuo was just over thirty; after his father Cai Jing’s return to power, his first act was kicking his youngest son into the cabinet. Now Cai Tuo was at his life’s peak, guests filling the hall, a pillar of the state, brimming with pride and ambition.
In Xiang Xian’s first year visiting Kaifeng, he had brought Wu Yingzong to deliver cards to officials; most nobles knew the housekeeper.
Thus, missing the principals, Cai Tuo feigned great familiarity with Wu Yingzong. Everyone knew it was courtesy for Cai Jing’s designs on Chaosheng.
“Who are these two esteemed figures?” Cai Tuo suddenly noticed the two new Exorcism Division members.
“This is our Uyghur brother Hulü Guang from the Western Regions,” Wu Yingzong stepped aside to introduce Hulü Guang and Mu Qingshan, adding, “And this is Mu Qingshan, descendant of the Qiang Clan and Tiele.”
Mu Qingshan halted abruptly, warily scanning around.
“What’s wrong?” Chaosheng whispered.
“Nothing.” Mu Qingshan said.
Cai Mansion brimmed with guests, all court officials in casual attire. Thirty banquets stretched from the verandas to the back garden, seats lining both sides. The Cai family was wealthy but not ostentatious; arrangements prioritized elegance, with fortunes spent on details.
The garden featured a faux mountain of strange rocks from Hangzhou, trickling streams, glazed lamps every five paces. Over a hundred beauties glided about, uniform in height and build, smiling silently. After brief greetings, Cai Mansion’s second steward personally escorted Wu Yingzong’s group to a side hall for tea and snacks.
Passing the front courtyard, they saw a screen embroidery dozens of zhang long stretching from the front hall into the back garden, depicting Kaifeng scenes, illuminated from behind by brilliant lamps. The silk base brought the market crowds to life in a prosperous, peaceful vista.
“Isn’t that Rainbow Bridge?” Chaosheng stopped to look.
“Yes, all Kaifeng street scenes,” Wu Yingzong said. Though not partial to paintings, even he marveled. “Do you like this kind?”
