“Then are they really planning to steal He Zhuchun’s Earth Soul?” Qin Shuheng propped his face on both hands beside them, like a child listening to Grandmother Bear’s tales.
“No.” Lu You shook his head. “It can’t be the Earth Soul.”
Qin Shuheng’s face went blank. “Why not?”
Yang Yun clicked her tongue, her tone disdainful. “Are you dense? If it really were about the Earth Soul’s deep Merit, He Zhuchun would have ended up just like Liu Yingying’s fellow disciples. How could Li Bingjun possibly have kept him around until now?”
Qin Shuheng froze—then remembered that the other victimized students had indeed been targeted for their Earth Souls. There was no reason He Zhuchun should get special treatment.
He opened his mouth. “So what they’re actually after is He Zhuchun’s…”
His voice caught. Beside them, Yang Shengnan set down her teacup and unhurriedly supplied the rest of his sentence: “His Heaven Soul.”
A person has only the Heaven, Earth, and Human Souls. If it wasn’t the Earth Soul they wanted, and the Human Soul carries far less depth than the other two—then only the Heaven Soul remained.
Yang Shengnan laid it out with reason. “What they’re truly after can only be He Zhuchun’s Heaven Soul. That’s why they’ve gone to all this trouble, piling up scheme after scheme—hunting for a soul born in the very same year, month, day, and hour, colluding with Netherworld officials to alter his Yang Lifespan. After all that effort, how could they be after a little Merit? I’m afraid they have something far bolder in mind.”
“Mm.” Lu You gave a soft sound of assent. “I suspect He Zhuchun is hiding something from us.”
The words were barely out of his mouth when Qin Shuheng shot up and slammed a hand on the table, furious. “I knew that punk was up to no good! There it is! Master, you’ve helped him so much, and he still has things hidden from you—what a piece of work!”
Yang Yun had been mid-sip of tea, and the motion startled her. The last bout of choking still stung at the back of her throat, and now here came another. She hacked violently twice, and the more she coughed, the angrier she got, seizing Qin Shuheng by the arm and shoving him back into his seat before delivering a hard thump to his right shoulder, snarling between coughs:
“We were just ta—khkh—talking—khkhkh—what the hell—khkh—did you slam the table—khkhkhkh—for?! Are you a brute?!”
Qin Shuheng’s right shoulder ached from the jab, but he didn’t dare talk back. His momentum completely deflated, he apologized while patting Yang Yun’s back to ease her breathing.
“I’m sorry, Sister Yang Yun, I didn’t mean to…”
Yang Yun worked her throat hard and told him, “Good thing you didn’t mean to, or I’d have thrown you out on the spot!”
Qin Shuheng’s voice went small. “…Understood. Please calm down, Sister Yang Yun.”
The three of them had been running together for years; a few smacks and kicks were routine, and Yang Shengnan had long since gotten used to it. Still, she rapped the table lightly and said, “Hey. Can you two save the scuffling for later? Little He’s life or death is hanging in the balance right now, and Little Lu is burning up with worry. Can you at least read the room, you brutes?”
She finished, then turned her gaze to Lu You, softening her voice. “Little Lu, what are you thinking?”
Lu You reached into his pocket, drew out the Spellbook he’d taken from the wardrobe in Qi Feng’s bedroom, and laid it on the table. “Aunt Yang, look at this.”
Yang Shengnan took the booklet and read it carefully.
By now Yang Yun’s throat had recovered somewhat, and dragging Qin Shuheng along, she crowded in to look too.
The group skimmed the opening first—then a turn of the page brought them to those key, large characters: Deceiving Heaven to Swap Souls and Steal Life.
Yang Yun frowned and looked up. “By the name, doesn’t this sound a lot like He Zhuchun’s situation?”
Yang Shengnan opened the booklet flat on the table and studied it together with Lu You.
Past the title page, the booklet was split into two parts—Deceiving Heaven and Shrouding Earth and Swapping Souls and Stealing Life—each explained in detail.
The method of “Deceiving Heaven and Shrouding Earth” was described somewhat loosely, sketched as follows: To deceive Heaven and Earth, one must possess the following techniques—neither of the two may be lacking.
For Heaven: take the incense of “Soul Swap” and “Soul Division” together to soak clothing and bed hangings, numbing the Heaven, Earth, and Human Souls—especially muddling the Heaven Soul and throwing the Seven Apertures wide open, making the body a delight to Ghosts and Gods and easy prey for Spirit Creatures to torment. Over time the person grows dulled and the souls listless, so that Heaven perceives no anomaly. This is Deceiving Heaven.
For Earth: select the soul of a living person born in the same year, month, day, and hour; change their name and attire; enter the Yin; take the small ledger of Yang Lifespan and rewrite life and death, so that Earth finds nothing amiss. This is Shrouding Earth.
A page turned, and came the detailed instructions for the art of “Swapping Souls and Stealing Life,” written as follows:
To swap souls, first take the Eight Characters of Birth, the birthplace, and the names of the Living one and the Substitute, and copy them onto Cinnabar-Ink Oiled Paper. Then take a quantity of Soul-Splitting Incense, bind the two with the Red Cord, and steep them in Corpse Oil for seven times seven, forty-nine days—adding or reducing the oil as circumstances require throughout. The product is ready when the incense paste grows thick, sliding slowly when inverted, and holds together without scattering in the wind.
Thereafter, begin the fumigation on the Living one’s birthday. If burned daily, it takes one year and four days; if that cannot be managed, two years and four days, with no more than seven days between burnings.
When the third night of the full year arrives, at the hour of midnight, set up the altar and raise the Formation; place the Living one and the Substitute together within; exchange the oiled papers bearing their information upon them; light incense at the four corners; invoke the Deity, and it will come; recite the wish in full; and when the Deity consents, the soul exchange is complete. It cannot be undone—weigh it carefully, and think thrice.
With this page turned, the booklet’s contents had been read through entirely.
When Qin Shuheng looked up, his face was a little white. He looked to Lu You. “Master, do you know He Zhuchun’s birthday?”
“I do,” Lu You said.
Under the gazes the other three snapped onto him at once, he drew a deep breath. “It’s the Double Ninth Day of the lunar calendar. The same day as mine.”
Qin Shuheng sucked in a sharp breath. “Then the third day of the birth year—wouldn’t that be today?!”
Lu You and He Zhuchun had met on the Double Ninth Day itself.
On the tenth of the ninth month, they had gone together to help Chen Zhuzhuo set up his Household Guardian Altar Hall.
And the eleventh of the ninth month—today—the two of them had gone to the Jianshe Road Vanke City Estate to hunt for leads on Qi Feng.
Qin Shuheng’s face was troubled. He muttered to himself, then suddenly said, “Master, something just came to me. I don’t know if I should tell you.”
Lu You turned his head toward him. “Tell me.”
“Actually, this morning He Zhuchun took a phone call before he went out,” Qin Shuheng said. “He took it outside the shop. The voice was muffled—at the time I could only make out that he called someone ‘Professor,’ and said something about coming right over. He hung up and left immediately.”
“Since I didn’t catch exactly what he said, and then he came back carrying flowers, I forgot all about it. But thinking about it now—his reasons for going out this morning weren’t nearly so simple.”
Lu You lowered his eyes and thought for a moment.
It was Yang Yun whose expression changed. Something struck her, and she asked a very odd question: “Why would He Zhuchun choose to buy Jasmine?”
Qin Shuheng scratched his head. “What else? Probably just because jasmine smells nice…”
The words had barely left his mouth when he realized something too, eyes blowing wide in shock as his gaze snapped up to meet Yang Yun’s. The two had clearly connected to the same frequency at once, jointly arriving at a critical question.
The intensely fragrant flower.
Of all the flowers available, why that one? Of all the flower shops nearby, why pick one so far away—why run a great distance specifically for the jasmine with the most overwhelming fragrance?
Setting aside the possibility that he simply preferred the flower, the other answer sent a wave of goosebumps through everyone present.
Yang Shengnan pressed her lips together and spoke at just the right moment. “On the subject of scent—didn’t we just cover something relevant?”
Lu You answered softly, “Mm.”
By now, the answer was all but written out. The real reason He Zhuchun bought the jasmine pointed in one unmistakable direction—it was to mask a smell.
If they truly pressed these small details in search of his motives, only one answer remained: he had known there was something wrong with Li Bingjun and all the incense around him, and yet had gone to find that professor alone, telling no one—not even telling Lu You and the others afterward—and had even gone out of his way to buy Pearl Jasmine, fragrance at its most intense, to deliberately cover his own scent.
An overlooked piece of common sense surfaced: people with unusually sharp Seven Apertures generally go out of their way to avoid strong-smelling things—fragrant, foul, or otherwise—to protect their perception from being overwhelmed.
Qin Shuheng swallowed hard and looked to Lu You. “Master, what do you say?”
Lu You’s expression was placid. He took a light sip of tea, rippling light shimmering in his eyes. After another moment of silence, he said only, “Save him first. Once he’s saved, everything will be clear.”
The speculation left Yang Yun feeling wretched all over. She raked a hand through her hair, irritated. “Great God Lu is as kindhearted as ever. People treat you like a fool, play you for one, and you’re still going to throw your life away to save him.”
“I already promised I’d save him,” Lu You said. “I don’t break my word.”
“…”
Yang Yun sighed and said, with utmost reluctance, “What a great savior of the world, this Lu You. He Zhuchun is Thrice-Blessed Fortune to have met you—blessed with a fool who’ll let him string you in circles, take the fall, and still come running to sell your life for him.”
Only after she’d said her piece did Yang Shengnan give her a gentle nudge with her elbow, a wordless signal to drop the sour talk.
“Fine, fine!” Yang Yun said. “So what do we do next?”
“First we find where they’re keeping He Zhuchun,” Lu You said. “Muster the troops, and fight our way in to rescue him.”
“And how are we supposed to know where he’s hidden?” Yang Yun asked. “Do you?”
“Qi Feng told me they’re keeping him in the basement of Yangwen Hall.”
Yangwen Hall—the massage parlor Li Bingjun ran.
Yang Yun pulled up a map on her phone and searched. “Found it. Not far from here either—less than half an hour if we’re quick.”
She checked the time. “It’s nearly ten. We don’t have much time left to save He Zhuchun.”
But Lu You shook his head. “No. He Zhuchun isn’t there.”
Yang Yun made a small sound. “He’s not? Then where is he?”
Lu You lowered his eyes, his mind running at full tilt, searching desperately through the limited threads for anywhere He Zhuchun might be hidden.
Time was short and the task heavy. Barring accidents, they would get no second location—one attempt, one success. Any misstep, and He Zhuchun’s life was likely forfeit.
Qi Feng and Li Bingjun did things too thoroughly: they had already opened his household register down below, waiting only for the Ritual Service to conclude before escorting him to King Yama. After that, this scheme, this whole black affair, would never again see the light of an overturned verdict.
Lu You, rarely, felt tension coil through him. The enormous pressure bore down, and he ran every event of the day through his mind—until, all at once, a detail long overlooked resurfaced. His eyes sharpened, his voice turned iron-steady, and he said to the other three:
“I know where he is.”
