Moonlit Reunion

Brushing off the accumulated dust on the wooden box, Mei Zhuyu gazed quietly at the object in his arms. The box was exquisitely crafted, adorned with intricate patterns and meticulous carvings—much like those commonly used by wealthy families in Chang'an. He had often seen similar boxes of various sizes in Wu Zhen's cabinets and chests.

To protect this very box, his parents had fled Chang'an with him, escaping to Quzhou. Due to his unique nature and to evade the relentless pursuit of that monster, they had no choice but to send him to Changxi Temple. Later, because of this box, his parents had died at the hands of that creature.

Yet, the bitter irony was that even now, he still had no idea what lay inside the box—nor what it was that the monster had been so desperately chasing after all these years.

"Your disciple bids farewell, Master." Mei Zhuyu carefully wiped away the old bloodstains and dust from the wooden box, slung it over his back, and bowed deeply to Siqing Daozhang.

When he had left Changxi Temple for Chang'an before, he hadn't offered such a solemn farewell to Siqing Daozhang. Back then, his demeanor had been as casual as if he were merely stepping down the mountain to run an errand, as though he would return soon. His nonchalance had made Siqing Daozhang gnash his teeth and curse him as an ungrateful brat. But now, faced with this earnest bow, Siqing Daozhang couldn't help but close his eyes for a long moment before waving his hand weakly.

"I told you there was a calamity awaiting you. I called you back to help you avoid it—did you know that?" Beyond this, there was little else he, as a master, could do for him. He, too, was struggling to protect himself.

Mei Zhuyu didn’t respond. Instead, he bowed once more before turning and leaving Changxi Temple. The path before the temple was lush with verdant trees, vibrant and thriving. Gradually, Mei Zhuyu disappeared into the sea of green.

Siqing Daozhang stood at the temple gate with his hands behind his back, suddenly recalling that rainy night years ago when Mei Zhuyu had returned with the wooden box. He had originally gone down the mountain to visit his parents, only to return with their ashes and this box.

This child, raised within the temple, had always been different from the others. He never cried, no matter how much pain or sorrow he endured. When he was young, watching the younger disciples weep bitterly, Siqing Daozhang had often wondered—why didn’t his little disciple cry like the others? Once, when the boy had been secretly taken down the mountain by an older disciple and returned severely injured, he hadn’t shed a single tear despite the agony. Curious, Siqing Daozhang had asked why he didn’t cry. The little one had merely frowned and said, "It’s just pain. Endure it, and it’ll pass. Why cry?"

But on that rainy night, when the boy—now a young man—returned with his parents' ashes and the box, even through the downpour, Siqing Daozhang had clearly seen the tears spilling from his eyes. He had finally learned to cry.

At the time, the young disciple hadn’t shown overwhelming grief. Siqing Daozhang, being blunt by nature, had initially assumed he was coping well. It was only later, by chance, that he noticed—whenever heavy rain fell, the disciple’s left hand would tremble uncontrollably. Only then did Siqing Daozhang realize just how deeply wounded his heart was.

He had always been a child who never spoke of his pain to others. That never changed, from childhood to adulthood.

——

In the depths of darkness, Ying opened his eyes. The moment he did, he caught the scent of decay—emanating from his own body. This stench had clung to him for a long, long time.His body had been severely injured by the Mei family father and son years ago, leaving him unable to regain human form all these years. He could only appear in this half-rotted, terrifying state. The severe injuries and long imprisonment had reduced him to this condition, and this time, he was determined to take everything back.

And that thing hidden by the Mei family—he must obtain it as well.

Amidst a rustling sound, the enormous half-rotted figure shrank in the darkness, eventually reducing to the height of two men before slowly stepping out of the shadows.

Ying left the cave and entered the Barrier he had created himself. Within this exclusive domain stood a magnificent manor where he kept a group of Demon Servants. Yet, despite the number of demons living here, it was always eerily quiet—no one dared to make noise or disturb him. Every one of them feared him, terrified of his unpredictable temper, afraid he might kill them on a whim, just as he had slaughtered the previous Demon Servants.

But this time, Ying noticed something unusual in the manor. The moment he emerged from seclusion, he heard music—pipa, zither, qin, flute, and konghou blending together in lively harmony. Even several soft, delicate female voices sang verses from the Book of Songs , specifically the chapter "Crane’s Cry."

"The crane cries at the ninefold marsh, its voice heard in the heavens..."

The grotesque monster stood motionless, listening as the breeze carried the distant song to his ears.

"Fish linger in the shallows, some diving into the depths..."

Ying thought of her . She had loved singing verses from the Book of Songs and had once sung "Crane’s Cry" for him. But the one she often sang to him was another chapter— "Lush and Green the Artemisia." She would smile and repeat to him the line: "Lush and green the artemisia, by the islet in midstream. Having seen my noble lord, my heart is filled with joy."

Wu Zhen was leisurely enjoying the music when a servant presented her with a plate of snow-white milk cakes. The cakes were well-made—soft, fluffy, and exceptionally fragrant, as if something special had been added.

Gesturing for the plate to be placed on the nearby table, Wu Zhen took one and was about to reach for a second when a thunderous roar erupted. The sound was hoarse and terrifying, brimming with overwhelming rage, like that of a beast provoked.

Did this manor keep some large beast? she wondered, only to see the previously cheerful Demon Servants pale in an instant. Their legs gave way, and they dropped to their knees, trembling uncontrollably. The little demon who had just handed her the plate now lay prostrate on the ground, face ashen, drenched in sweat, not daring to lift his head.

Once the singing and music ceased, the roar sounded even more deafening and dreadful. Wu Zhen paused briefly but still popped the cake she had picked up into her mouth. Could this be the roar of that kidnapping monster? she mused. Nothing else would terrify these Demon Servants like this—unless it’s their master.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than the roar stopped, and a figure came charging toward them.

As it drew closer, Wu Zhen sucked in a breath. This thing looks even more horrifying in daylight. Half its body was rotted away—apart from its scaled legs and horned head, most of its form was a lumpy, indistinct mass, with bones visible in many places. Its grotesque appearance was bad enough, but the stench was worse. The incense she had burning nearby was instantly overwhelmed by the foul odor.Wu Zhen watched as the creature, its eyes gleaming with malice, charged toward her. It opened its mouth and spewed a stream of purplish-black vapor in her direction. Swiftly, she grabbed the plate of milk cakes in front of her and leaped aside, narrowly avoiding the attack. Though she dodged in time, the comfortable divan she had been lying on, along with the nearby furniture and snacks, were all destroyed. The moment the vapor touched them, they corroded and melted, reduced to a pile of wreckage in an instant.

"Hey, you there... why not calm down a bit? You brought me back because I’m still useful to you, right? You haven’t even used me yet—why resort to silencing me now?" Wu Zhen said with a smile.

Unfortunately, the monster seemed to have lost its mind. Her cheerful expression only enraged it further, and it spewed several more bursts of black vapor at her in quick succession. Wu Zhen dodged agilely, then flung the plate in her hand straight at the creature’s hooves. Only then did it seem to regain some semblance of reason and stop its assault.

Wu Zhen landed lightly on her feet, casting a nervous glance at her belly. She wondered if the little one inside might just jump out from all this leaping around.

Carrying a child was truly not a job for humans—nothing felt comfortable, every move was fraught with caution, and even a simple jump came with endless worries. She couldn’t even drink as much as she wanted. Wu Zhen was half-tempted to ask Cousin Pei to switch them back.

Her thoughts wandered, but on the surface, she continued to smile at the monster.

The monster—Ying—had regained its senses and now stood opposite Wu Zhen, staring at her as if truly seeing her for the first time. Indeed, when it had abducted "Wu Zhen," it had merely treated her as a bargaining chip, carelessly tossing her into the manor to be guarded—as long as she didn’t die, it didn’t matter. Ying had never bothered to look at her properly before.

Just an ordinary woman, nothing worth noticing. If she hadn’t been connected to its enemy, Ying wouldn’t have spared her a second glance.

Moreover, when Ying had first brought her back, she had seemed like a silent, unremarkable woman. Now, she seemed... different.

This woman’s careless, grinning demeanor reminded Ying of that person , and its eyes once again darkened with murderous intent.

Wu Zhen keenly sensed the monster’s revulsion toward her and immediately schooled her expression. Though she had no idea what was going through its mind, she realized that her smile only provoked its rage. Survival instincts forced her to adopt a blank face.

Suppressing her smile, Wu Zhen quietly observed the monster’s movements, her fingers rubbing together behind her back as she considered her options. If not for the child in her belly, she would have gladly fought this monster head-on—even if she couldn’t win, she could at least seize an opportunity to escape.

But with the little one inside her, one wrong move could cost its life, and her husband would be devastated. For all his calm demeanor, he adored this child beyond measure. If anything happened to it, how could she face their little lord at home?

Ah well, when under someone else’s roof, one must bow their head. Wu Zhen resigned herself to the situation and took a step back.

Only then did the monster watching her finally stir. It averted its gaze from Wu Zhen and ordered the Demon Servants cowering on the ground, "Lock her up. Don’t let her out again."The stunned and frightened Demon Servants were dumbfounded, especially the field mouse demon women who had been responsible for taking care of Wu Zhen earlier. They had all thought Wu Zhen was the mistress their master had painstakingly brought back, believing her to be the future lady of the house, which was why they had been so attentive. But now, judging by the situation, it seemed they might have been mistaken?

The women all glanced at the oldest among them, who lowered her head and silently cursed her luck. She had heard it from her mother—her mother had been brought here to serve when the estate was first built. She had said the master built this estate to gift to his wife. But after all these years, not a single woman had arrived. So when one finally appeared, wasn’t it natural to assume she was the lady?

After giving his orders, Ying’s massive, bloated figure slowly vanished, while Wu Zhen was ushered into the house.

Wu Zhen turned and immediately perched on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs. Well, no more songs for her. Still, the monster had finally shown himself. Now she needed to figure out a way to escape. It was infuriating—no matter how much she observed openly or inquired discreetly, she found no gaps to exploit in this place. She had no idea how such an impenetrable "cage" had been constructed.