Qingshan Chen’s features were soft and feminine; though they were full brothers, he looked nothing like Qingshan Qi.
His enormous fox tail swaying, his brow arched—and fox ears sprouted from his hair. “Little brother, you’ve reached the Spirit Solidification Realm, and you still need a Violet Fox’s heart’s blood to sheathe your ears and tail?”
Before the words finished—shing!
Qingshan Qi’s little fan sprouted razor edges, slicing toward Qingshan Chen’s neck like a burst of blossoms.
The strike aimed to kill.
Qingshan Chen’s spiritual power surged as he slammed the flying petal-blades back. He was not the least bit angered by his little brother’s offense, just lazily crossing his legs.
“Father sent me to see just what divine powers this bearer of the Exquisite Heart possesses, that he has you so besotted you’ve forgotten home.”
Qingshan Qi closed the fan back against his palm. “A mere human. What divine powers could he have?”
“Then why haven’t you taken his Exquisite Heart?” Qingshan Chen clucked his tongue. “Little brother, your Elder Brother means well. Father finally gives you one task, and you drag your feet all this way. No wonder Father has never favored you all these years—even I worry on your behalf.”
Qingshan Qi laughed. “A father who would kill even his own children?”
“Ai, how have you grown this big and still dwell on those childish trifles?” Qingshan Chen smiled. “So he locked you up with those ‘food’ items for one month. You turned out fine, didn’t you? Worth holding a grudge all this time?”
At those words, Qingshan Qi’s face changed violently, his stare near-frigid.
“Oh my…”
Qingshan Chen coughed, thinking he had poked the beast; any more and this little brother would likely fight him to the death. He changed the subject.
“Do you know who that bearer of the Exquisite Heart is?”
Qingshan Qi regarded him coldly, baleful aura roiling, claws already extending.
“He is the most beloved little disciple of Li Tongxu.” Qingshan Chen sidestepped, found that death-wishing icy stare following him all the same, and said flatly, “Rein in the killing intent. There is real business.”
Qingshan Qi still stared him down.
Qingshan Chen suddenly pointed behind him. “Oh my—isn’t that your dearly-adopted ‘Elder Brother Zhuoyu’?”
Qingshan Qi’s movement stalled; he turned slightly.
Qingshan Chen instantly flitted back ten zhang, and only at a guaranteed survival distance did he silently exhale.
From far off, Qingshan Chen called out, “Fifteen years ago, Li Tongxu suffered qi deviation and cut his way through Gengwu Province sword in hand, slaughtering the Qingshan Clan nearly to extinction. Father was gravely wounded; of seventeen brothers and sisters, only five survived—and our clan was forced to relocate to Lingshu Mountain. Such a blood feud! If you tore out the heart of his most beloved little disciple and presented it, Father would be overjoyed. He would surely grant you entry to the Lingshu Inner Mountain.”
“Come down here,” Qingshan Qi said softly.
Qingshan Chen fled even farther, sending his voice over: “Father worries you will be weak-willed and indecisive again, so he sent a trusted aide to assist you.”
So saying, a fox demon appeared without a sound—a man named Guan Shan, of unprecedented size, cultivation nearing the Spirit Solidification Realm, a vicious scar across his face, dropping to one knee in salute.
“Young Master Qi.”
And still Qingshan Chen taunted from far away.
“Little brother, all these years you have cultivated on your own and never eaten a single human—isn’t it just because that human who was kind to you was eaten till not even bones remained? How big a deal is that, really?”
The Red Jade Beads at Qingshan Qi’s wrist snapped and scattered to the ground. Fox ears and an enormous fluffy tail burst forth, and an unconcealable tide of killing intent spread for hundreds of li in every direction.
“Qing! Shan! Chen!”
Qingshan Chen’s laughter faded into the distance.
“Little brother, the gentleman keeps far from the slaughterhouse, ah.”
Qingshan Qi’s eyes went crimson in an instant, demonic power erupting outward. With a thunderous boom the surrounding mountains collapsed, fox fire raging, birds startled into flight—a purgatory upon the earth.
Whether Qingshan Chen was caught in it, who knew—either way, he finally shut up.
Guan Shan still knelt on one knee. “Young Master…”
“Get lost!”
Guan Shan, told to go, went.
This fox had been sent by Qingshan Sheng specifically to watch him. Qingshan Qi knew he was only hiding nearby. The savage fury on his face could barely be contained; the unstable thoughts of these past days churned through his heart a thousandfold.
But he could not show weakness. Could not let his guard drop.
Qingshan Qi closed his eyes and reined in the rampant demonic power, turning back the way he had come.
Moonlight fell on him, and it felt only dazzling and cold.
The memories so carefully buried came surging back.
“…You, you take this and get out…” Someone had groped for his hand, at the edge of death. “If you meet… someone in white, gi-give it to him. He will come to sa-save me…”
A dark dungeon, blood pooled everywhere, bones heaped.
In a corner hunched an emaciated child, a blood-soaked chain around his ankle.
There seemed to be bindings at his wrists too, but he was so frail, starved who knew how long. His hands freed, he had barely scraped together a hand seal, driving out the last thread of spiritual power to crack the cell door open a sliver.
Qingshan Qi heard another childish voice ask, panicked, “What about you?!”
The person’s eyes were unfocused, nearly dead. “I… cannot leave… You go first. Find people…”
“…All right. I’ll find people to come save you!”
He hunched and fled through the cage’s only exit—and in the instant his toes cleared the threshold, the child’s spiritual power gave out entirely. Only a faint voice remained, like the sleep-talk of a dying flare.
“Save me…”
“Shut up!”
Qingshan Qi clapped his hands over his ears. His spiritual power, barely steadied, raged wild once more, and the towering trees around him dissolved into snow-white powder.
“Save me…”
“Little brother—the gentleman keeps far from the slaughterhouse.”
“He is nothing but a human. You would turn against Father over this?”
“Whatever person you want, we can find for you. Why dwell on a dead man?”
“Save me…”
Young as he was, he still had not learned to sheathe his fox ears and tail—though even now he had not—clutching the peach blossom jade pendant as he tumbled headlong out.
The ever-peaceful Gengwu Province lay strewn with corpses for reasons he could not understand, the long river dyed blood-red.
Qingshan Qi stood dazed in a sea of blood, staring blankly ahead.
Amid the mountains of fox-clan dead and seas of blood, a figure in red robes stood at the center. A sharp long sword, its blade engraved “Tongxu,” was stained crimson—the edge seemingly dulled by blood.
The man’s eyes were scarlet, his face expressionless, an enormous fox-clan head dangling from his hand, which he tossed aside carelessly.
Not a trace of malice about him, and yet one glance made the marrow freeze and the hair stand.
The head rolled to a stop in the pool of blood, and Qingshan Qi recognized it at once—the young master of the Qingshan Clan, highest of them all in cultivation and talent, and the elder brother Qingshan Qi feared most.
The elder brother who had forever sneered down at him now lay headless and mutilated, face contorted, eyes open in death.
Qingshan Qi’s whole body shook. Reason screamed at him to run—but the sharp jade pendant in his hand rooted him to the spot.
Find a human…
To save him.
Until the man glanced his way—eyes cold as a ghost crawled up from hell, devouring every living thing around.
In that instant, Qingshan Qi’s reason shattered entirely.
…He ran.
When, dazed, he made his way back to the dungeon, it was empty. Nothing remained but blood covering the ground.
Rumble—
Rain began to fall on the mountains already in ruins.
The cold spring rain struck Qingshan Qi’s face and woke him from memory.
His face held no expression—calm, one might even say. Unhurried, he brushed the water from it, and with one gathering of his long fingers, the fallen Red Jade Beads restrung themselves and settled back around his wrist.
Fox tail and fox ears vanished in an instant.
Qingshan Qi gave a crisp snap of his fingers.
Guan Shan returned as though he had never left, kneeling in the rain. “Young Master.”
“Do something for me.”
“Your word is my command, Young Master.”
Qingshan Qi raised a hand and cast down a shifting illusory barrier, blanketing a hundred li around. His slender finger lazily tapped toward the distant lamp-lit village.
“I am tired of playing—once tomorrow’s Flower Festival begins, raze this place. Leave no living soul.”
Guan Shan hesitated. “Including the Exquisite Heart?”
Qingshan Qi smiled without warmth. “What do you think?”
“Yes, sir.”
Wearing the skin of “Lu Qi,” Qingshan Qi returned to the little courtyard.
Candlelight glowed warm inside; faint footsteps could be heard.
Before he could approach, the door creaked open.
Lin Zhuoyu, seemingly on his way out, widened his peach-blossom eyes at the sight of him and beckoned. “Come here!”
Drenched like a drowned rat, Qingshan Qi slowly mounted the steps—and noted, brow arching imperceptibly, the bamboo-ribbed umbrella in Lin Zhuoyu’s hand.
“Where are you going?”
Finally running?
Too late, though.
Lin Zhuoyu didn’t touch him, simply jabbed him in the back with the umbrella ribs, herding him indoors. “You have the nerve to ask? Raining in the dead of night—where would I go? Looking for you, of course.”
Qingshan Qi’s steps halted. He stared at him blankly. “Looking… for me?”
“Mm-hm.” Lin Zhuoyu produced a brand-new set of robes from his storage pouch and handed them over. “Wandering out in the middle of the night, again? Careful—a Great Demon will pop out and swallow you in three bites!”
For one instant, Qingshan Qi was lost.
Before he could gather his thoughts, Lin Zhuoyu suddenly leaned close, hand moving with practiced ease to probe his forehead, and a wave of peach-blossom fragrance warmed by his skin washed over him.
Qingshan Qi froze in place.
Mimicking the gesture his Shizun and senior brothers always used on him, Lin Zhuoyu tested his temperature, found no fever, and frowned. “What is wrong with you, wandering about with your soul half gone? Did you lose it out there?”
Like a beast driven too hard—if his tail had been out, it would have been bristling. “You—!”
“Oh, right, you don’t like being touched.” Lin Zhuoyu apologized with zero sincerity. “Sorry, sorry. Go change, quick, before any fever makes you any sillier.”
Qingshan Qi: “…”
His daze vanished entirely. Gritting his teeth, he took the robes coldly and pulled them on, expression blank.
Eat him.
Eat him!
Lin Zhuoyu glanced back, made a puzzled “Hm?” sound, looked him up and down, and stroked his chin. “I’m starting to believe you’re twenty.”
Qingshan Qi, wearing Lin Zhuoyu’s robes, found them strangling tight.
Lin Zhuoyu rummaged some more and dug out of a corner a brand-new snow-white robe—a plum-blossom-patterned Daoist robe he had taken a fancy to in Linchuan City a while back, meant as a gift for Yan Su.
Ah, whatever.
He handed it over. “Try this one?”
Qingshan Qi didn’t want to talk to him, and simply changed.
It fit almost perfectly.
Lin Zhuoyu looked him over and clicked his tongue in wonder. “You look like a child, yet you can carry off my senior brother’s robes. Young man, your future is boundless.”
The hands tying the sash paused. “Your senior brother?”
“Mm.” Lin Zhuoyu waved a hand. “Ah, never mind—dawn is almost here. Want to sleep a bit more?”
Qingshan Qi shook his head.
“Oh,” Lin Zhuoyu said. Then he picked up the robes Qingshan Qi had just changed out of and made as if to throw them away.
Only then, belatedly, did Qingshan Qi sense something wrong. Face darkening, he moved to stop him. “What are you doing with my robes?”
“Throwing them out.” Lin Zhuoyu sounded puzzled. “They’re soaked through. You want to keep wearing them?”
Qingshan Qi: “…”
He seemed almost laughed into exasperation by this over-delicate, world-innocent Little Immortal Lord, thinking, who on earth could ever wait on such a fussy creature.
But then he thought: come dawn, this pampered, gold-nurtured Exquisite Heart would show its true colors and be exposed in every ugly way—and he felt better again.
Qingshan Qi’s eyes curved. “No trouble for Elder Brother. I’ll do it myself.”
He reached to take the robes. Lin Zhuoyu didn’t stand on ceremony and simply tossed them over.
At that very moment, something tumbled unexpectedly from the soaked robes, landing on the ground with a crack—and splitting in two.
—It was the jade pendant carved with the character “Zhuo.”
Qingshan Qi’s face changed in an instant.
