Revised

The black and white keys danced like a nightingale's song, the romantic, fierce Piano notes climbing from gentle to soaring; a storm tore the rose petals apart, water droplets falling into the mire, splashing up in scattered sprays.

The beads leapt high off the keys and dropped again, each crystal-clear Glass Bead like a dreamlike bubble, rolling through the increasingly dense notes, and just as one was about to fall, another springing key rolled it off in a different direction.

This Competition was not about superb technique; it was about a single word—steadiness. To keep the beads steady while playing, so long as it could be done, how well one played was secondary.

But Jiang Luo did it too well.

Better than anyone had expected.

His ten fingers leapt across the Piano keys at blinding speed, fast enough to leave afterimages. The black-haired youth in the fitted black Tuxedo kept his spine straight, the ends of his hair brushing softly at his back—elegant, noble, mysterious, beautiful.

The onlookers were stunned.

In truth, only Jiang Luo himself knew that his fingers had never once touched the keys.

The ghost hands threaded between his five fingers played too fast and too skillfully; Jiang Luo was carried along by them, and at such speed no outsider could tell whether his fingers had touched the keys at all.

Jiang Luo was, in effect, lip-syncing—an exceptionally fine lip-sync that no one could detect.

Yet his smile had gone slightly stiff.

Because Jiang Luo could feel it—from behind him, Qi Fu's even more suspicious gaze.

When the piece ended, Jiang Luo's hands had already gone rigid.

The hands between his fingers receded like an ebbing tide, lingering a moment on the back of his hand.

The vicious ghost's smiling voice sounded softly by Jiang Luo's ear, brimming with wicked delight.

“How could my student lose to anyone else?”

Then the cold behind him vanished.

A shadow crossed Jiang Luo's eyes. He slowly drew back his hands and stood, and when he turned his face the smile was flawless. The black-haired youth looked a touch bashful as he said modestly, “I didn't play very well. Forgive the poor showing.”

“Incredible,” Ge Zhu clapped hard and stuck up a thumb. “So this is who you are—Jiang Luo.”

“Holy shit… he's that good?”

“Li Cheng, is there even a contest left?”

The pockmarked face came back from his stupor and clicked his tongue. “Contest what? Who could possibly beat that? Fuck, I'm completely won over.”

At the back of the crowd, Qi Fu watched Jiang Luo in a mix of shock and dread.

From the moment the music began, he had felt something familiar. By the time the piece ended, Qi Fu looked at Jiang Luo with two words filling his mind: Chi You.

The Qi Family and the Chi Clan had always been on good terms. Over a decade ago, when Qi Fu was a guest at the Chi Clan, he had seen a young Chi You put through exactly this same hardship—made to play the Piano by a Chi Clan Clan Elder.

Qi Fu had thought it an impossible thing to accomplish. But Chi You had accomplished it.

Young as he was, already possessing a budding grace, Chi You had effortlessly, with a face full of smiles, made the beads leap across the Piano keys without falling—exactly as Jiang Luo was doing now.

After that, this method of the Chi Clan slowly spread through the Xuanxue World. But Qi Fu had never again seen anyone able to do it as masterfully as Chi You.

Cold sweat rose at his back.

Jiang Luo's polite, modest face twisted in his eyes into something demonic and terrible—was Jiang Luo, like Bai Ye Feng before him… possessed by Chi You?!

Hadn't Chi You's soul been torn into pieces? Why would he come back? Had he—had he come back to take revenge on them?!

*

Qi Fu left in a hurry.

His expression was not good, and Jiang Luo noticed it keenly. Watching Qi Fu's retreating back, his eyes narrowed slightly, and he made an excuse: “I'm going to the restroom.”

He gave the others a smile, and once he was clear of the group, slipped silently up to the second floor.

The second-floor Corridor was long. Jiang Luo softened his steps, moving like a big cat on the hunt, the carpet swallowing the last sound of his footfalls.

At a bend in the Corridor, Jiang Luo heard a noise. In an instant he hid himself at the corner, standing flat against the wall.

Qi Fu's voice came through, frantic.

“He must be Chi You—he's definitely Chi You!” Qi Fu was at his wits' end, his voice urgent. “Chi You has definitely come back.”

Qi Fu must have been on the phone. After a few seconds he had calmed considerably. “You have a point. Jiang Luo is Feng Li's disciple—if Jiang Luo were possessed, how could Feng Li fail to see something wrong with him? But even if Jiang Luo isn't Chi You, the vow he made to avenge Chi You was no lie.”

“Right—not dead,” Qi Fu sneered. “His abilities are even stronger than we imagined… Chi Zhongye, mark my words: if we don't get rid of him, sooner or later we'll take a fall.”

Jiang Luo listened with great relish.

Before this he hadn't been sure which of the three of them the Qi Family and Chi Clan were targeting. Now he knew—the one the Qi Family and Chi Clan wanted to deal with was him.

Their behavior also proved that both the Chi Clan and the Qi Family were involved in Chi You's death—or were among the chief culprits.

Jiang Luo gave two cold laughs.

As it happened, Jiang Luo was not Chi You, but he and Chi You shared the same vengeful streak.

Petty, and exceptionally good at holding a grudge.

This grudge—the Qi Family and the Chi Clan framing him—he marked it down.

He couldn't hear what the person on the other end said, but Qi Fu suddenly drew a sharp breath. “Fated Ones?”

Fated Ones?

Jiang Luo frowned. What was this now?

Qi Fu said, “Understood, we'll discuss it later. Find a way to get rid of him first. With an uncertain factor like this around, I can't rest easy. A green boy, daring to talk about avenging Chi You—what does he even know?”

“The Feng Clan? Don't worry. Don't you know what kind of temper Feng Li has?”

The killing intent in Qi Fu's words grew more and more plain. Jiang Luo listened lazily for a while, and sensing that Qi Fu's call was nearly over, took a step back, about to leave.

But somehow, at some point, someone had come to stand behind him.

A voice laughed by his ear: “Did you hear that? He's planning to kill you.”

The vicious ghost took Jiang Luo's hand, laughing low. “Listen to the curses, the judgments, the contempt he spits at you. He envies your talent, despises your ingratitude—he wishes you'd drop dead this instant.”

The flesh over Jiang Luo's knuckles was lightly pinched, enough to ache; the ghost's voice dropped lower, as if weaving a gorgeous, malformed dream. “Look—there's no one here.”

“No surveillance.”

“It's just you and him here,” the gentle voice nourished the rapid growth of a virus, a bacterium, the twisted malice being drawn into shape; the vicious ghost tempted, “Don't you want to kill him right here?”

“Strike from behind, one blow to end it,” the ghost murmured. “Smash through his skull, or draw a line across his throat. Crack his cranium open, scrape away his filthy flesh, let the blood spray from his wounds and spatter onto the red carpet, onto the walls… Vent your fury this way. Let him know exactly what kind of demon he's provoked. Tell him you are not someone he can kill.”

The vicious ghost bewitched Jiang Luo with his words, giving no quarter, wanting to breed an evil thought in this kindred soul he prized so highly—to draw out his true nature, that bloody, ruthless nature.

And then to fall into hell together with him.

“His blood will flow more and more. He'll turn in fear to look at you, he'll want to flee, but he won't escape your pursuit,” the ghost's blood quickened with excitement. He chuckled twice and pressed a knife into Jiang Luo's hand. “But be careful—mustn't let his dirty blood spatter onto you.”

“That way, you can stroll right back to the banquet, as if you knew nothing at all.”

Jiang Luo's breathing grew slightly heavy.

He could almost see it already—the scene of himself killing Qi Fu, blood dyeing his hands red, the Corridor steeped in the reek of death.

He would throw the knife away, wipe his hands clean, and then return, unconcerned, to the center of the crowd.

Qi Fu had already finished his call and was walking out from the corner. As if he hadn't seen Jiang Luo and Chi You at all, he turned his back to them and headed down toward The First Floor.

The vicious ghost's voice behind Jiang Luo seemed able to invade his very brain. “With me at your back, all you have to do is be yourself.”

His breath struck cold against Jiang Luo's ear as he spoke. Softly, the ghost said: “Jiang Luo, go kill him.”

The vicious ghost let go.

But the black-haired youth stood motionless. His Adam's apple bobbed, and the dry ripple in his throat vanished in an instant.

“Chi You,” his voice was slightly hoarse, yet exceptionally pleasant. “Who gave you the confidence to think you could talk me into this?”

“This is a society ruled by law,” he said. “Dealing with humans is not the same as dealing with ghosts.”

“Is that so,” a pale palm settled over Jiang Luo's heart, and Chi You asked with a low laugh, “then why has your heartbeat sped up?”

Jiang Luo gripped the knife and swung it backward—and the next instant, Chi You vanished, and the knife in his hand vanished with him.

The black-haired youth's expression was cold and grim. He drew a deep breath and quelled the agitation churning inside him.

Chi You wanted to turn him into a thing like a ghost; he refused to become that. To let his emotions run high now would only play right into Chi You's hands.

Jiang Luo quickly composed himself and returned to the hall.

*

The group that had come looking to make trouble for Jiang Luo was now thoroughly won over. They dropped the matter of the Competition entirely, and changing their tune, invited him to go racing with them.

The mountain roads were treacherous, and the elders would not allow it after all. So they simply found a spot and played cards instead.

Since none of them had ever seen the Yuantian Pearl, the pockmarked face and the others said brazenly, “We ought to set stakes for cards, right? Jiang Luo, if we win, would you bring out the Yuantian Pearl to let us have a look? No other meaning to it—we've just never seen one, we're itching to, we want a look.”

Jiang Luo spread his hands. “Is that the sort of thing you carry around everywhere you go? I can't produce it right now.”

The group, their curiosity piqued, looked a little disappointed. Qi Ye said offhandedly, “Yuantian Pearl? My family has one.”

Jiang Luo paused, and the others cried out in surprise. “Your family has one?!”

“Yeah, my family has one.” Qi Ye nodded with a flat reaction. “If you want to see it, I can take you right now. It was going to be shown to you at eight tonight anyway, as…” —a lure to draw talented people into the Qi Family.

Naturally, Qi Ye did not say that part aloud.

His gaze flicked over Jiang Luo. A pity—Jiang Luo was already one of Tianshi Manor's people.

Jiang Luo seemed curious. “Since your family has a Yuantian Pearl, why not keep it for your own use?”

Qi Ye smiled, his plain tone laced with no small amount of pride. “Three generations of my family—grandfather, father, and son—are all exceptionally gifted. The Yuantian Pearl is of no great use to us.”

The words set everyone's teeth on edge, yet there was nothing to be done, because what Qi Ye said was the truth. Never mind the two elder generations of the Qi Family who had gradually aged—Qi Ye's talent alone ranked among the finest of the younger generation.

The pockmarked face muttered, “Better to give it to me to use… Qi Ye, take us to see the Yuantian Pearl, will you? It's still early before eight.”

Qi Ye simply put down the cards and took them to see the Yuantian Pearl.

The Yuantian Pearl was kept in the Qi Family's Study, with a formation set before The Study. But when Qi Ye led them in, the formation did not activate. Jiang Luo turned it over in his mind—it seemed the Qi Family's formation had no effect on members of the Qi Family.

To verify this thought, as he stepped through the formation Jiang Luo subtly struck at it. Sure enough, the formation gave no reaction.

Jiang Luo's lips curved, and he walked into The Study.

Qi Ye took the Yuantian Pearl out of the safe. Standing behind the crowd, Jiang Luo stared at the Yuantian Pearl for a few seconds, then casually looked away.

A bold idea took shape in Jiang Luo's mind.

The Qi Family had thoroughly displeased him. Before he finished them off for good, Jiang Luo intended to give the Qi Family a taste of displeasure too.

He was going to steal the Yuantian Pearl.

The Yuantian Pearl was kept in a locked wooden box. To avoid any appearance of impropriety, everyone made a great show of looking everywhere but at the box. Jiang Luo stood half-turned toward Qi Ye, but out of the corner of his eye he watched every one of Qi Ye's movements with perfect clarity.

There were no windows in this room, and the door had been pulled shut on the way in, making it a sealed space.

Those present were all promising young talents of the rising generation. Many as they were, this was far easier than deceiving the vicious ghost or those old foxes.

The only thing to mind was staying out of their line of sight.

Jiang Luo was no master thief; he lacked the professional skills. It would have helped to have an accomplice—then the act would be far more convenient. One person to draw everyone's eyes, another to seize the chance and steal the Yuantian Pearl. But unfortunately, Jiang Luo had no accomplice.

But he had the Yin-Yang Ring, which counted as a special sort of “accomplice” all the same.

He stood at the back of the crowd, smiling along as they admired the Yuantian Pearl. The icy, deep-blue glow that seemed to emanate from the very level of the soul still held a riddle-like pull for him. Jiang Luo tore his gaze from the Yuantian Pearl and wandered absently over to the bookshelf.

“So this is the Yuantian Pearl? A bead the size of a fingernail can actually strengthen Spirit Essence?”

“I fucking want to take a photo so badly—this counts as me having seen the Yuantian Pearl.”

“Qi Ye, does your family sell the Yuantian Pearl? Auction works too—it'd definitely fetch a sky-high price!”

“Only an idiot would sell it! The Yuantian Pearl is worth far more than money!”

Once they'd had their fill of looking, Qi Ye prepared to put the Yuantian Pearl away. Just as he was about to close the wooden box, he heard Jiang Luo, standing by the bookshelf, suddenly let out an “Hm?”

Qi Ye instinctively looked over at him.

It turned out the hem of Jiang Luo's clothes had been snagged on a hook on the shelf. He lowered his head to look at it, tugged at the hem—the snagged spot must have been awkward to free, for he had no success.

Jiang Luo simply raised his head and lazily undid the Tuxedo jacket. The pure white shirt gradually emerged from between his slender fingers, his black hair falling in alluring, silken waves over his chest; each sway seemed able to ripple across the lake of one's heart. As he shrugged it off, he said, “Qi Ye, your family has a lot of rare manuscripts.”

It was only a jacket coming off, yet it left the others flushed to the ears, their attention helplessly drawn. At his words, the crowd couldn't help following his gaze toward the bookshelf.

A golden mouse climbed onto the desk like the wind and, while no one was watching, stole away the Yuantian Pearl inside the box.

Qi Ye watched Jiang Luo and, somewhat dazed, closed the box—not noticing at all that the most important thing inside was already gone. “There are a few…”

Jiang Luo gave the Tuxedo jacket a casual shake and draped it above the crook of his elbow. Under the cover of the jacket, the golden mouse scurried up and returned into Jiang Luo's Yin-Yang Ring, the Yuantian Pearl arriving in Jiang Luo's hand wholly intact.

Clutching the Yuantian Pearl and gripping the edge of the Tuxedo, Jiang Luo arched a brow at everyone in puzzlement. “What are you all looking at me for?”

At his question, the crowd snapped out of it as if from a dream. They awkwardly looked away and walked out of The Study with arms slung over one another's shoulders, though their gazes kept stealing back toward Jiang Luo, faint and furtive.

Ahem—they hadn't noticed before, but Jiang Luo really was quite good-looking.

Jiang Luo, too, quickened his pace and followed the crowd out.

In a daze, Qi Ye set the wooden box in the safe and locked it. When he came out and saw Jiang Luo again, his face suddenly went red.

Jiang Luo was chatting and laughing with Wenren Lian. He glanced back, not knowing why Qi Ye had flushed. “Qi Ye, are you hot?”

At that, Qi Ye went red right to the tips of his ears as if he'd combusted. He turned to walk off, then ducked his head and walked back, grabbing Jiang Luo with a stiff face and hauling him downstairs, speaking at machine-gun speed: “You know it's hot here too—so what are you standing here for! So annoying, hurry up and get down there!”

Jiang Luo was baffled. He glanced back at Wenren Lian and the others, asking with his eyes: Is he sick?

Wenren Lian only smiled and said nothing; Ge Zhu clicked his tongue in wonder.

Driven by some inexplicable surge of momentum, Qi Ye rushed Jiang Luo over to the dining table, where the pastries and centerpieces were exquisitely arranged, giving off a faintly sweet, enticing aroma.

“I…” Qi Ye met Jiang Luo's questioning gaze and felt his chest tighten instead, not knowing what to say. He looked around irritably, grabbed a few cakes onto a tray, and pushed them in front of Jiang Luo, his tone curt. “Eat or not.”

Jiang Luo glanced at the cakes. “Don't want them.”

He'd expected Qi Ye to get angry, but to his surprise Qi Ye actually put the cakes back, asking in a low voice, “Then what do you want to eat?”

Jiang Luo: “…”

He gave Qi Ye a strange look.

In a corner not far off.

Two people stood in the shadows.

One was Liao Si, who had been treated as a guest and kept on to stay since his last visit to the Qi Family; the other was none other than Teng Bi, who had no invitation and had been left behind at the School.

Liao Si watched this scene of Jiang Luo and Qi Ye's exchange, his brows dancing, thoroughly engrossed. He poked Teng Bi's arm and said, “I really never thought I'd live to see a day like this.”

Teng Bi adhered strictly to the master's order to “watch Jiang Luo,” his eyes never shifting. “See what?”

“The scene of the grassland sprouting over the master's head,” Liao Si snickered, his sickly face itching to try something. “I really want to call the master over—let him come have a look too.”

Teng Bi didn't quite catch his meaning, but he wasn't close with Liao Si, so he said flatly, “Don't forget—the master can hear your thoughts.”

The words were barely out when a slow, unhurried voice sounded inside Liao Si's head.

“Liao Si.”

The smile on Liao Si's face vanished at once, and he said properly, “Master.”

The sound of pages turning came from the master's side. Chi You said slowly, “What do you mean, a grassland over my head?”

Every inch of Liao Si's skin went taut, his hair standing on end in an instant. He smiled ingratiatingly. “I mean—Jiang Luo is right now spending time with the Puppet-in-reserve I once handpicked for you.”

In fact, ever since Chi You had obtained the Divine Statue Body, Liao Si didn't think Chi You would ever go back to using a human body.

This remark of his only meant to convey that he didn't think the master's lover and that Puppet-in-reserve were the least bit suited to each other.

He'd put it delicately, but on Chi You's end there was a pause. “So?”

Liao Si was startled. That wasn't the right reaction, was it?

Any man who got cuckolded would be furious to the heavens—all the more so when that man was none other than the downright terrifying Chi You.

The master… didn't mind?

Unable to read Chi You's thoughts, Liao Si ventured cautiously, “Master, that hero-saving-the-beauty business you spoke of earlier—did it succeed?”

“Ah,” Chi You's voice was plainly tinged with delight, “it succeeded.”

In a remote basement.

Chi You sat on the sofa, the Ghost Pattern raging across his neck. When the Ghost Pattern backlashed, even he had to find something to occupy his attention, to keep his sanity by it.

Such as using a soul-body to lure Jiang Luo, or the copy of the Compass Detailed Guide he was reading now.

But at this moment his mind was not on the Compass Detailed Guide.

He was thinking of the slaughter at the Hospital—of the murderous doctor and the patient.

“I did save him—helped him deal with a monster that had its eye on him,” the corner of Chi You's mouth curved, the faintly pale lips lacking the color they'd had the day blood and tongues had tangled together. He was thoroughly satisfied with what he had done. “But what a pity—death failed to force out his true nature.”

This did indeed sound like a hero saving the beauty. Liao Si pressed on, curious: “Then, Master—after you played the hero saving the beauty, how did Jiang Luo react?”

In Chi You's mind flashed the image of Jiang Luo standing high atop the Staircase, sneering, wiping at the crimson, glistening corner of his mouth.

For some reason, his throat began to itch again.

Chi You's voice dropped low, careless yet touched with a trace of distraction: “Him? He made me lose an arm.”

Liao Si: “???”