Xiang Xian: “??”
Xiao Kun briefly recounted the Cyan Wolf tracking to Bianjing and the fight with Hulü Guang. “We’ll handle it later.”
“Oh.” Xiang Xian nodded.
Then a guest approached. Xiao Kun tensed, eyeing him.
The man wore Feng Shui Master robes, a satchel slung across, a handcuff-like wrought iron ring on his left wrist, an oil-paper umbrella on his back. His height matched Chaosheng’s, shorter than Xiao Kun and Xiang Xian.
Nearing forty, older than Wu Yingzong, with slanted brows, round eyes, thick eyebrows lending piercing gaze—like the folkloric Zhong Kui Appearance.
“Lord Xiang, Lord Xiao,” he introduced himself. “I’m Zhen Yue.”
Xiang Xian and Xiao Kun paused. They knew him for an exorcist. Xiang Xian puzzled, “Have I met you before?”
Pondering, Xiang Xian felt a vague familiarity—from the dream realm past life sparked by Mu Qingshan?
Zhen Yue met his gaze, puzzled, then smiled. “Perhaps we have a connection.”
Xiao Kun asked, “Where from, brother?”
Zhen Yue spoke scholarly. “From Yuhang. My family head sent me to Bianjing to inform Grand Demon-Exorcist Lord Xiao of this year’s drought.”
“Not the place,” Xiao Kun glanced around. “Inside, Brother Zhen.”
Zhen Yue added, “Hearing of Elder Xiang’s passing upon reaching Kuaiji, I wished to pay respects and visit an old acquaintance—knowing Lord Xiang was here, I intruded.”
Xiao Kun ushered Zhen Yue into the hall, signaling Xiang Xian he would handle it.
“Whatever it is, wait till I return,” Xiang Xian said, wiping his face. “I want to hear the fresh news too—don’t decide without me.”
“Before guests, don’t jest wildly and embarrass us,” Xiao Kun warned.
“My apologies,” Xiao Kun said to Zhen Yue.
Zhen Yue asked, “Is Madam here?”
“She is,” Xiao Kun replied. “I’ll send word.”
Familiar with the house after days, Xiao Kun no longer acted the guest; the family, per instructions, treated him as master. Soon he led Zhen Yue to the side garden, where Xie Yun appeared and smiled.
“How is your mother?” Xie Yun asked.
“By Madam’s grace,” Zhen Yue bowed as a nephew. “All well at home. Old Madam mustn’t grieve excessively.”
“This body is that of a widow,” Xie Yun said leisurely. “The old men died or departed. This is Feng’er’s pact brother Xiao Kun—they’re thick as thieves. Whatever your mother entrusts, tell them.”
Xiao Kun’s heart stirred at her words but he didn’t deny. “Yes.”
Zhen Yue said, “The great drought in the Northern Regions has spread to Jiangnan. The Hangzhou Exorcism Department suspects foul play and sent me to investigate.”
Xiao Kun thought for a moment and said, “The Exorcism Division headquarters did receive reports from Hangzhou. To be honest, after the mourning period in Jiangnan, the Deputy Emissary and I also plan to head to Hangzhou.”
“That’s for the best.” Zhen Yue finally breathed a sigh of relief and added, “After all, back in the days when Guo Jing was in charge, he never handled anything properly—he just kept demanding stones from us.”
Xie Yun smiled warmly. “Guo Jing is incompetent and has been a sycophant for ages. Now that Lord Xiao is in place, you can finally rest easy. It won’t be an issue—they’ll set off tomorrow morning. Stay here for now and report back another day.”
Though Xie Yun was not an exorcist, she had been close friends with Shen Kuo in her youth and knew many secrets of Shenzhou. Of course, she viewed everything from a mortal’s perspective. Xiao Kun and Xiang Xian said nothing about the Heavenly Mandate revealed by Shuhu, nor did they mention the dangers they had faced along the way, lest they worry her. The banquet lasted until dusk that day. Once the guests had all dispersed and the Xiang family shed their mourning whites, Xiang Xian finally returned. After bathing and changing clothes, he felt utterly exhausted after several consecutive days.
When he returned to the inner hall, he saw Xie Yun, Xiao Kun, and Zhen Yue sitting and talking. Xiang Xian went straight in, carrying the scent of early summer soap pods and gardenias, and moved to lie down beside Xiao Kun.
Xiao Kun was saying, “There are far too few people at the Exorcism Division headquarters…”
Seeing Xiang Xian burrow into him the moment he arrived, Xiao Kun neither hugged him nor pushed him away. He simply shifted him a bit and gestured toward Xie Yun, signaling that his mother was right there—don’t fool around.
Xiang Xian climbed onto the couch instead and pillowed his head on Xie Yun’s leg. She naturally stroked her son’s cheek.
Seeing Xiang Xian with such a family made Xiao Kun deeply envious, and he couldn’t help but recall the vague image of his own mother from his memories.
“In the past, Lord Guo was in charge,” said Zhen Yue. Though he was from Jiangnan, he was well-informed about matters in Kaifeng. “The Zhen Family was unwilling to take orders from Guo Jing. Now with Lord Xiao and Lord Xiang, there’s no issue.”
“Oh?” Xie Yun laughed. “What have they done?”
Xiao Kun quickly shot him a look. Zhen Yue took the hint and avoided mentioning the crises facing the mortal world in front of the elder, lest he worry her unnecessarily. He replied, “Lord Xiao has profound cultivation and is greatly admired by my mother. As a Liao person, he set aside national and familial grudges to serve in the Great Song, even assisting in quelling the rebellion in Gaochang. His character is naturally top-notch.”
Hearing this, Xiao Kun realized that news from beyond the frontier and Chang’an had already reached Jiangnan. He humbly said, “It was Xiang Xian who brought me into service in Bianjing. Without him, I’d have been wandering aimlessly and likely strayed down the wrong path long ago.”
Xiang Xian glanced at Xiao Kun but only smiled without speaking. He recalled how, over these past few days, Xiao Kun had stayed by his side without leaving even for a moment, handling everything inside and out, more attentive to his affairs than his own. His heart stirred with emotion. Moreover, the red rope he had given Xiao Kun remained tied on without removal, and Xiao Kun had even folded back his sleeve by an inch to deliberately display it—a gesture whose intent could not have been clearer.
