The fish soup in the pot had come to a boil, with creamy white bubbles rising to the surface like milk. The small kitchen was filled with a rich, savory aroma.
Xin Mei bent her head, knife in hand, carefully carving into a block of tofu. The tofu soaked in cold water, and in the bitter winter chill, her hands had turned red and stiff, making her movements less nimble. She worked slowly, outlining the contours of a face, holding her breath to avoid any mistakes.
Today was already the first day of the Lunar New Year. At the usual time tonight, she would meet Lu Qianqiao by the cliffside, and she wanted to bring him something delicious. After much deliberation, she decided to carve a Tofu Xinmei—it would be more romantic.
She remembered the first few times she went to see him—he was always late, as if reluctant. But later, he started waiting for her by the cliff early, and his words gradually increased. Unlike the beginning, where she would say ten sentences and he wouldn’t even reply with two words.
...Was she close to success?
Xin Mei gleefully placed the carved tofu in the steamer. Two other steamers were already puffing away on the stove, filled with small buns and dumplings—snacks for the demons in the Imperial Mausoleum. With Lu Qianqiao gone, Si Lan had no interest in cooking. Though demons didn’t need to eat, it was still the New Year—it would be too depressing to leave things so cold and quiet.
"So fragrant! So fragrant!"
Zhao Guanren, who had been buried in the Underground Palace, engrossed in writing the second part of A Match Made in Resentment , occasionally came out for fresh air. Drawn by the aroma, he rushed in, eyes gleaming greedily at the plump, snow-white pastries.
Xin Mei smiled and ladled him a bowl of fish soup, handing him a few buns as well. "Zhao Guanren, try it and see how it tastes."
"How could anything made by the lady herself not be delicious?"
Zhao Guanren buried half his face in the bowl, crumbs clinging to his beard. Suddenly, as if remembering something, he looked up at Xin Mei.
"Miss, are you going to Changgeng Pass tonight to talk to the General?"
"Of course." Rain or shine, this was non-negotiable.
"Then could you pass on a message from us to the General?" He rummaged through his crumpled sleeve for a long while before finally pulling out a badly creased envelope, solemnly placing it in her hand.
"Everyone signed their names on it, and each secretly wrote a message for the General." Zhao Guanren picked at his teeth. "We meant to give this to you days ago, but you never came to the Underground Palace, and we didn’t run into you. Anyway, we all miss him. All this talk of War Ghosts and transformations and perfection—we demons don’t understand any of that. After spending so much time together, he just left without a word. Does he even consider this place home anymore?"
Xin Mei opened the envelope to find a sheet of white paper folded many times, densely covered with the demons' names. Tao Guoguo and his younger brother couldn’t write, so each had attached a bright yellow feather inside. The younger brother had even left a chubby paw print on the paper.
"Si Lan was making a fuss about going with you to see the General, but everyone stopped him."
Zhao Guanren gave her a sly grin. "How could we let him ruin such a romantic, intimate moment under the moonlight? Miss, tell the General to come back soon. I’m almost done with the second part of A Match Made in Resentment , and we’re just waiting for him to return so we can start rehearsing. I’ve made a lot of changes this time—guaranteed to avoid a repeat of last time’s tragedy."
"Another case of one dead and one insane?" Xin Mei eyed him skeptically."No, no, this time it's completely different! An ending none of you could ever guess!" Zhao Guanren stroked his beard mysteriously, leaning in to whisper, "I made the general's mother fall gravely ill with a terminal disease. On her deathbed, her final wish was for the general to marry a noble War Ghost lady. Torn between loyalty and filial piety, the general had no choice, leaving you to withdraw heartbroken. Fifty years later, the general stands before your grave, silently weeping, then draws his sword and follows you in death!"
…How was this any different from before?
Xin Mei snatched the last few steamed buns from the basket and stuffed them all into her mouth. This old crow—good food was truly wasted on him.
Seeing that the hour of Chen was nearly over and the journey from the Imperial Mausoleum to Changgeng Pass was long, Xin Mei quickly packed the food into a box, carefully holding it as she prepared to leave.
Zhao Guanren escorted her all the way to the edge of the cloud mist array, smiling. "Young lady, isn't this better now? You've changed quite a bit—less childish. Hurry and become an even better woman, then snatch the general back."
"I was always a good woman."
Xin Mei giggled and stepped out of the cloud mist array.
Unexpectedly, the High Priest was nowhere to be seen. Normally, the moment she stepped out, she would find him waiting in his ornate Long Carriage. Though she still didn’t understand why he insisted on sticking to her like glue, his carriage flew fast and spared her from the cold wind. A free chauffeur was just perfect.
But today, he wasn’t there.
Xin Mei circled the area but couldn’t find his carriage anywhere. She reached into her robe for the talisman paper where Qiu Yue resided, about to summon her, when suddenly the melodious cry of a Paradise Bird rang overhead. The High Priest descended gracefully, robes fluttering, and grinned apologetically. "Sorry for being late today. Glad you didn’t leave first."
She pulled out five boxes of pastries from the large food container and handed them to him. "One for you—Happy New Year. The other four, please deliver to the Sinister Clan for me."
The High Priest’s eyes sparkled with delight. "How thoughtful of you to remember me! But if I go to the Sinister Clan to deliver these, who will take you to Changgeng Pass?"
Xin Mei pondered. "How about I ride Qiu Yue first, and you catch up after delivering the pastries?"
…So it was true! She really did treat him as nothing more than a chauffeur and servant! The High Priest clutched his aching chest, forcing a strained smile.
"Fake monk, did something good happen to you today?"
Xin Mei glanced at his face and asked casually.
The High Priest’s eyes flickered briefly before he chuckled. "Why do you ask?"
"You seem especially happy today."
Though he was usually all smiles, today… it was different. An indescribable joy radiated from within him. Eyes never lied.
He smiled again, placing the food box into the carriage. "Well, after waiting so long, it wasn’t in vain. You could say it’s a big deal. But whether it succeeds or not depends on fate."
What kind of good thing was it? She was curious.
"Though I’m a monk, I’m still a man. And a man’s secrets aren’t for women’s ears." He leaped onto the Long Carriage, whistled, and the Paradise Bird flapped its wings, soaring into the sky.
"You go ahead. I’ll catch up later."
This man was truly enigmatic.
Xin Mei mounted Qiu Yue’s back and patted its head. "Good Qiu Yue, let’s go to Changgeng Pass."On the first day of the Lunar New Year, the repeatedly offending Peasant Soldiers did not attack. Presumably, everyone was celebrating the holiday, and even the usually grim Changgeng Pass was graced with rare warmth. The soldiers followed their hometown customs—some making dumplings, others preparing eight-treasure rice—the aroma of food masking the ever-present smoke of gunpowder and the scent of blood.
Lu Qianqiao sat in the main tent studying a map, with a box of eight-treasure rice and a steamer of dumplings placed beside him—gifts from the soldiers.
He scooped a bite of the colorful eight-treasure rice into his mouth—too sweet.
He took a dumpling—too bland.
Uncharacteristically restless, he glanced at the sun, estimating there were still one or two hours until dusk, when Xin Mei would arrive. Though hungry, he had no appetite for anything else—she had promised to cook for him today.
It felt like… it had been so long since he last tasted her cooking.
For the first time, he understood the flavor of longing. He wished the sun would hurry and set—he missed her, wanted to see her sooner. This time, he wanted to leap across the cliff, stand by her side, and touch her cheek.
The killing intent in his heart had long since faded, and the dull ache in his chest hadn’t troubled him in ages.
Without her, the entire Changgeng Pass seemed colorless. The scent of blood no longer stirred excitement in him—instead, he yearned… yearned to breathe in her scent once more.
Holding her felt like a lifetime ago.
He set aside the map and picked up the Celestial Lady doll that had been sitting on his desk, adjusting its sleeves, combing its hair, then taking out a small knife to smooth out any rough edges.
Suddenly, panicked shouts erupted outside the tent, followed by the flap being thrown open—Li Min, unseen for so long, strode in, bringing a gust of cold air with him.
"General! He—he barged in without permission—"
The guard at the entrance stammered.
"It’s fine. Leave." Lu Qianqiao set the doll down and stood.
Li Min stepped forward, taking in his mismatched red-and-black eyes with a mix of delight and complexity, then clasped his hands in a respectful bow. "Young Master! You’ve truly inherited your mother’s noble bloodline!"
Lu Qianqiao didn’t look at him, his voice icy. "What do you want?"
"Your mother has long known of your situation. But with the Youhu Clan’s frequent provocations, she dared not leave the clan. Today, she finally found an opening—she’s waiting for you at the summit of Mount Li, ten miles away."
Lu Qianqiao still refused to meet his gaze. "I won’t return to the clan."
Li Min remained unfazed. "Your mother said that while she would love to see you maintain your rationality—to not kill the one you love—she wouldn’t hesitate to intervene and resolve these troubles for you."
At last, Lu Qianqiao turned, his frost-like eyes locking onto Li Min’s. The latter shuddered, instinctively stepping back and lowering his head in deference.
"She… killed my father, and now she threatens me with Xin Mei?" Lu Qianqiao reached for the black whip resting on the bed, then strode out of the tent. "I’ll go see her. If you value your life, don’t follow."
…Would this mother and son truly be unable to avoid bloodshed?
Li Min watched silently as he walked away. After a pause, he too stepped outside, careful not to follow the same path, retreating instead to the eastern mountain to wait.
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