37. Reunion with Old Possessions

Mo Tu rested his head on her shoulder, his lips brushing the curve of Qing Yin’s ear. With a voice drowsy with sleep, he recounted, in fits and starts, the harrowing sights he had witnessed in the depths of the garden’s winding paths. His breath at her ear sent shivers of ticklish sensation through her.

His words were vague, but the scenes he described were truly alarming. Qing Yin felt a chill of fear run through her. She asked, “That whirlwind just now—was that your doing?”

“Yes. After the rain of bamboo-leaf blades, there was a rustling deep within the bamboo grove, as if something was chasing after me. So I cast the whirlwind toward the outer wall to attract their attention, and seized the chance to escape.”

“And that strange tree—what exactly is it?”

“A tree demon.”

“A tree demon? Like Magnolia?”

“Magnolia may be a demon, but she follows the proper path. That tree, however, is clearly from the realm of evil spirits. That must be the secret the Dong estate has been hiding. Yet I’ve seen many corrupt trees before, but none with such a dense, sinister aura…” At this point, drowsiness overtook him. He buried his face into the hollow of her neck, his lashes fluttered heavily, and at last he drifted off to sleep.

Qing Yin reached for his wrist and took his pulse. It was more erratic than before. Clearly, the combination of his injuries and the use of magic had caused his internal wounds to relapse.

A sharp anxiety burned in her heart.

*

Prefect Dong summoned Dong Zhanchu.

Dong Zhanchu stood before his father, his expression rather cold.

Prefect Dong shot him a sharp look and said, “Do you truly believe that the Immortal Yin you found came here to save Yin’er?”

“Of course,” Dong Zhanchu replied.

Prefect Dong snorted. “You’ve lived over a hundred years in vain. All because of Yin’er, your concern clouds your judgment. That strange wind beside the tree in the garden today was clearly related to her—can’t you see that?”

Dong Zhanchu sneered, “Clouded by concern? So be it. At least it proves that your son still has a heart. Father, do you still have yours?”

“You…” Prefect Dong’s beard trembled with anger. “Zhanchu, that woman’s origins are unknown. If she remains in the estate, she’ll ruin our great plans and doom us both!”

“Father, since Yin’er came into my life, nothing else has mattered to me. All I want is to keep him safe.” His gaze was resolute. After a pause, he added, “The Immortal Yin can save Yin’er—I am certain of it.”

“And what makes you so sure?”

“That’s not for you to worry about,” Dong Zhanchu said as he turned to leave.

Behind him came Prefect Dong’s hoarse, furious shout: “Mark my words! No one can save him!”

Dong Zhanchu paused for a moment, then continued out without looking back.

Prefect Dong stood where he was, shaking with rage as he watched his son’s receding figure. Suddenly, a chill crept over him, as though he were being watched by a pair of piercing, venomous eyes.

Yet he saw no such eyes—only his son’s back growing ever more distant.

He looked around in confusion, unable to discern the source of this eerie sensation. After a while, he muttered bitterly, “It’s all because of that so-called Immortal Yin—everything is in chaos. She cannot remain here any longer.”

After leaving his father’s courtyard, Dong Zhanchu reached a secluded corner when a strange voice suddenly spoke behind him: “The Immortal Yin needs medicine.”

He stumbled, nearly falling, and quickly spun around—again and again—but there was no one there.

“Stop turning about. Go quickly,” the strange voice urged.

Dong Zhanchu steadied himself, realizing it was futile to turn in circles—he would see nothing anyway. He said dejectedly, “You’ve been silent for so long, I thought you’d left.”

“How could I leave before Yin’er is saved?”

“Who are you really? Why do you want to help Yin’er?”

The strange voice gave a cackling laugh. “Simply bored, lending a hand for amusement. Enough talk—go fetch the medicine.”

He asked, “Do you know what medicine the Immortal Yin requires?”

“Just take her to the storeroom and let her choose for herself.” With that, the strange voice yawned, as if growing tired, and fell silent.

Dong Zhanchu couldn’t help but glance back again, unsurprised to find not even a ghostly shadow. He sighed and made his way to the guest rooms.

Qing Yin, still in Mo Tu’s embrace, was dozing when a knock sounded at the door.

“Who is it?” she asked.

“It’s me, Dong Zhanchu.”

She gently nudged Mo Tu, signaling him to return to his feline form.

Mo Tu, deep in sleep, was reluctant. He wriggled grumpily in her arms for a while before finally transforming into a cat and curling up in the crook of her arm to continue sleeping.

She knew his excessive drowsiness was due to the recurrence of his internal injuries, which weighed heavily on her heart. Carefully cradling the black cat, she got up to open the door.

Dong Zhanchu bowed at the threshold. “Immortal Yin, you have worked tirelessly these days. Might you be in need of some restorative medicine?”

Her heart leapt with joy. Mo Tu did indeed need medicine—just when she needed it most, it appeared. But how did Dong Zhanchu know? Could he have realized Mo Tu was injured? She kept her expression calm. “Why mention medicine at such a time?”

Dong Zhanchu hesitated, glancing nervously behind him before saying, “It was merely a guess. Our household may lack many things, but we do have some rare medicinal herbs. If you do not mind, please accept some to restore your strength.”

Qing Yin keenly observed the furtive way he kept looking about, as if searching for someone—someone invisible. He had once asked if she saw anyone following him. Could it be that an unseen person was guiding him in secret? Since he would not say, she did not press the matter. This “invisible person” seemed to mean her no harm.

She replied coolly, “Very well. What kind of medicine do you have?”

“Please allow me to escort you to the storeroom to choose for yourself.”

The Dong estate’s storeroom was immense, with more than a dozen separate buildings, housing calligraphy, antiques, textiles, and medicines, all meticulously sorted—a testament to the family’s immense wealth. Only now did Qing Yin realize that Dong Zhanchu’s earlier modesty was mere politeness.

Dong Zhanchu opened the medicine storeroom and ushered her inside. Rows upon rows of cabinets lined the room, medicines of every kind neatly arranged. The deeper she went, the more precious the herbs became. Qing Yin’s eyes lit up with desire—she wished she could grab a sack and take it all. But she forced herself to remain reserved, her demeanor calm and indifferent, reminding herself: Only two, only two, greed will be punished…

To choose just two items from among hundreds she longed for was a true ordeal. Silently, she calculated which medicines Mo Tu needed most and began searching. When her gaze swept over a row of bottled medicines, she suddenly halted.

Each blue-and-white porcelain vial bore a tiny label written in delicate script: Icy Jade Pearl Elixir, Blue Feather Phosphor Powder, Azure Smoke Mind-Dulling Balm…

These were all fine medicines. But what caught Qing Yin’s attention was not their quality, but the handwriting on the labels. She had seen it not long ago.

It was the same script as in the register her father had written by hand.

It was her father’s handwriting.

Standing with her back to Dong Zhanchu, her blood rushed to her head, her vision blurring. Dong Zhanchu’s voice came from behind, “Immortal Yin, take anything you please.”

She quickly regained her composure. When she turned around, her eyes were clear and calm. “These prepared medicines are quite rare. Are they a Dong family secret?”

“No. None in our family are versed in medicine. We acquired them by chance several years ago.”

By chance? Qing Yin felt a stab of pain. That “chance” must have been after the Zhou family was destroyed. After killing her kin, they had stolen her family’s possessions.

Thieves.

A silent fire blazed within her, and she was seized by an urge to burn the Dong estate to the ground. Swallowing her hatred, she smiled and said, “To possess such fine medicines is no easy feat. The one who prepared them must be a master.”

Dong Zhanchu looked rather proud. “Indeed. That person came from a family of renowned physicians and had many unique formulas. But these are nothing compared to some of their rarer treasures…” He stopped abruptly.

Qing Yin’s heart skipped a beat. So Dong Zhanchu did know something about the massacre—and perhaps some secrets besides. She fixed him with a curious look, as though eager for him to continue. But he changed the subject. “Please, Immortal Yin, choose as you wish.”

Suppressing her impatience to learn the truth, she reached for two small vials labeled “Dragon Scale Icy Balm” and “Snow Ginseng Blood Lotus Pill”—both unique family recipes with potent restorative properties. “These two will suffice.”

As they returned, Dong Zhanchu said the altar in the pavilion was ready. Qing Yin replied, “I shall go take a look. Where are Magnolia and Yin’er?”

“Yin’er is sleeping, with Magnolia watching over him. She is very devoted, which sets my mind at ease.”

Qing Yin said, “On the night of the fifteenth, before nightfall, bring Yin’er to the altar. Until then, remain vigilant—do not let anyone take advantage of an opening.”

Dong Zhanchu agreed, feeling uneasy, and left in haste to guard Yin’er.

Qing Yin, cradling the black cat, made her way to the pavilion. The altar was already set up. Normally, Daoist altars require many traditional arrangements, but as Qing Yin’s instructions were vague, the servants had simply piled up incense burners, drums, and soul banners, creating a rather impressive display.

She entered the altar, stifled by a sense of suffocation. Sitting cross-legged on a mat, clutching the two blue-and-white porcelain bottles, her hands trembled.

The black cat, who had been curled in her arms, awoke, stretched, and rolled onto his back, exposing his belly in a silent request for a rub. But after waiting a while with no response, he opened his eyes in displeasure, only to see Qing Yin staring blankly ahead, eyes brimming with unshed tears, her jaw clenched tight.

He paused in confusion and placed a paw gently on her face.

Awakened by the soft touch of his paw, Qing Yin said, “You’re awake? I got two bottles of medicine—they’ll help your injuries.”

“What happened?” the black cat asked, scrutinizing her face.

Finally, a tear slipped down her cheek. Through gritted teeth, she whispered, “The labels on these bottles—they’re in my father’s handwriting. These are my family’s medicines, stolen from my home by those who killed my kin. Murderers. Thieves. I will have justice. I will repay the blood debt a hundredfold.”

For a moment, Mo Tu was at a loss for how to comfort her. He climbed onto her shoulder and gently licked the trail of her tears.

She wiped her face with her sleeve, opened the bottles, and took out a pill from each, feeding them to him. “These are unique family recipes—perhaps even made by my father’s own hand. They’ll be good for your injuries. Your internal wounds are flaring up; for the next few days, you mustn’t use your magic.”

Mo Tu chewed the medicine, answering indistinctly.

Qing Yin recalled Dong Zhanchu’s earlier words: “But these are nothing—his family had even rarer treasures…”

She murmured, “Dong Zhanchu seems involved as well. He appears to know quite a bit about the massacre. So, he is not as innocent as he seems. I must warn Magnolia—not to let her harbor any more illusions.”

Author’s Note: Please leave a comment… let me know you’re here…

Half-Immortal Seal 37 – Reunion with Old Belongings – Complete!