Chapter 84: Jing Shushu

What had happened last night was of little concern to Gu Zhiheng. After Liu Qi had composed himself, the three of them spent the night at Liu Qi’s place. When it became clear that nothing was amiss, Gu Zhiheng left with Liu E.

The streets were as they had always been—pedestrians hurrying by, the endless flow of traffic ever-changing, never repeating itself from one day to the next. Liu E, walking the streets, appeared far calmer now, his curiosity for many things diminished, following quietly at Gu Zhiheng’s side.

“So, what shall we do today? My sister won’t arrive for another three days—they said they’ve run into some trouble and have been delayed,” Gu Zhiheng remarked, his patience for wandering the city wearing thin as he glanced at the silent companion beside him.

“I’ll take you to see some beauties—ought to help pass the time,” Liu E grinned mischievously, dragging Gu Zhiheng down a different street, heading toward a place not far off.

Liu E did have acquaintances in Jiacheng, though he rarely saw them. It had been a long time; who knew if that fellow was still alive? If he’d died, that would be rather awkward.

They walked for nearly fifteen minutes. Just as Gu Zhiheng thought they had arrived, Liu E pulled him onto a city bus.

“Where are we going? Aren’t we supposed to be seeing beauties? What, are we taking the bus to an old folks’ home?” Even if beauty fades with age, at his age Gu Zhiheng thought perhaps he ought to lay eyes on someone younger.

“You’ll see when we get there—no more questions,” Liu E replied, keeping the destination a secret. Gu Zhiheng took the hint and fell silent. Best not to let curiosity get the better of him.

There weren’t many people on the bus; Gu Zhiheng found a seat near the back, with Liu E beside him. Gu Zhiheng often wore a cold expression, giving off an air that kept strangers at bay. Liu E studied the man beside him—so unlike Gu Mojiang, whose feelings were always written on his face. Gu Zhiheng’s thoughts were never so easily read; he always wore a mask of composure, hiding his true self—a trait unusual for someone his age.

“What’s this, admiring my good looks? Am I not more handsome than you?” Liu E teased, his previous thoughts of praise for Gu Zhiheng instantly cast aside by the latter’s return to form.

“You are handsome—though a bit foolish at times, if rarely,” Liu E replied, always feeling there was more to Gu Zhiheng than met the eye. There were traces of another soul within him; sometimes they seemed as one, sometimes separate—everything about him was shrouded in mystery.

“Your hair really is beautiful. If only it were on a different face…” What a pity, such fine hair gracing the head of a man. If hair could speak, would it not feel ill-fated?

Gu Zhiheng was amused by his own thoughts and couldn’t help but laugh aloud.

“What’s so funny? Are you secretly cursing me in your heart?” Liu E suspected this boy was sly at heart, likely cursing him inwardly.

“No, you’re overthinking it. How much longer until we arrive?” Gu Zhiheng shook his head, suppressing his amusement, sitting up straight with a serious air.

Jiacheng’s bus stops were numerous, and before long, they had stopped several times. Passengers came and went in waves, much like the people one meets in life—so many fleeting encounters, so few who remain till the end. An inexplicable sadness welled up in Gu Zhiheng; perhaps this was the mundane world—something beyond his understanding.

At last, the bus reached their stop. Liu E led the taller Gu Zhiheng off the bus. They were on the city’s outskirts, lined with two-story houses; the streets were quiet, with few cars and fewer people, far from the city’s noise and haste.

“Come on, she should still be alive—at least, I think so.” Liu E wasn’t sure if he was speaking to Gu Zhiheng or reassuring himself. In his heart, he believed the woman still lived—so it must be.

They walked down a street and finally stopped in front of a large courtyard. When he saw the sign at the gate, Gu Zhiheng wanted to slap himself—his words had come true. Liu E had really brought him to an old folk’s home.

“The director here is a friend of mine—a bit of a temper, so please be forgiving,” Liu E said, reverting to his gentlemanly manner, refined and courteous.

He knocked, but no one answered, so Liu E pushed the door open and walked in. The courtyard was spotless. In the shade of a nearby tree, a group of elders sat, their laughter and conversation lively.

“Hm? Moth?” A clear female voice sounded behind them. Gu Zhiheng turned to see a woman in her thirties—graceful and beautiful.

“Well, little fox, you’re still alive, are you?” Liu E’s demeanor became instantly playful, leaving Gu Zhiheng thoroughly confused.

“Let me introduce—this is my younger brother. I’ve brought him here to have a look around,” Liu E said, giving Gu Zhiheng a tug to greet her properly. Why did this child always act so out of sorts at crucial moments, looking so dazed?

“Hello, senior, I am Gu Zhiheng.” Inwardly, Gu Zhiheng cursed Liu E—what a shameless character, nearly tearing his new shirt in the process.

“Hello, I’m Jing Shushu, a red-tailed fox,” the woman replied with perfect politeness, her behavior flawless, betraying nothing.

A red-tailed fox—Jing Shushu, the very one he was seeking. Yet, given the circumstances, it seemed inappropriate to make a move. She was now engaged in good works, gathering merit; he couldn’t act against someone with merit. What to do? Should he find a new target? All the spirits he had looked for were those listed in the Record of Spirits; never before had he encountered one with accumulated merit. This was a first.

“Don’t just stand there—come in and have some tea!” Jing Shushu’s demeanor was warm and approachable, like a caring elder sister, with none of the air of a spirit creature.

But to be listed in the Record of Spirits, one should have a history of bloodshed—why was she recorded? Gu Zhiheng couldn’t fathom it, and for a while, he fell silent, saying nothing.

He allowed Liu E to lead him into the parlor, where Jing Shushu poured him tea. He did not drink, lost in thought. He took the opportunity to cast a divination, but from beginning to end, Jing Shushu had never committed a single evil deed. Why, then, was she in the Record of Spirits?

“Why has your brother fallen silent? Is something troubling him? Tell me—perhaps I can help,” Jing Shushu said, her every gesture natural and sincere, leaving Gu Zhiheng all the more perplexed.

Forcing the divination on Jing Shushu’s past and present, he could not withstand the backlash and was struck by a sudden reaction. His face turned deathly pale, and blood spurted from his mouth.

Startled, Liu E jumped to his feet, and Jing Shushu, too, was bewildered—how could someone suddenly cough up blood for no reason?

“I’m fine—I overreached,” Gu Zhiheng replied with a bitter smile, gently pushing aside Jing Shushu’s outstretched hand.