Chapter Seventeen: Zi Huan

Chen Jiu was already in a hurry to ascend the stairs, but now his way was blocked. He frowned slightly, casting a cursory glance at the person before him.

But the moment his gaze fell upon her faintly smiling face, his pupils contracted sharply.

He swore to himself that this woman standing before him was, without doubt, the most beautiful he had ever laid eyes on.

Her hair, dark as a waterfall, tumbled carelessly over her shoulders, as if reflecting a spirit unbound by convention. Beneath delicately arched brows, her almond-shaped eyes shone with a crystalline brilliance, her nose was small and straight, and her lips red as cherries, delicately inviting.

Her complexion was already fair as jade, but paired with the light purple gauze gown she wore, her beauty was elevated to the realm of the divine—a celestial maiden descended to the mortal world.

Astonishment, however, lasted but a moment. Chen Jiu quickly regained his composure and spoke in a calm tone, “Miss, we are strangers, yet you call me ‘Pumpkin Taoist.’ Don’t you think that’s a bit inappropriate?”

The woman, as ethereal as a fairy, twined a slender finger around a lock of hair and laughed softly. “In the face of such beauty, you remain unmoved, your spirit unwavering. If that’s not a ‘pumpkin,’ what is it? And how forgetful you are, Taoist! Has it only been a few months, and you’ve already forgotten me?”

Chen Jiu scrutinized her again, certain he had never seen her before. Without another word, he moved to step around her, intent on reaching the third floor.

Had this encounter occurred before he crossed into this world, he might have attempted something bold and daring. But now, in this foreign land where his every breath was uncertain, how could he spare a thought for women?

An old saying echoed in his mind: Women will only slow Chen’s cultivation!

Seeing herself so blatantly ignored, a flash of anger flickered in the woman’s eyes. This pumpkin Taoist really doesn’t know a good thing!

She parted her lips slightly, deploying her trump card: “Taoist, could it be you have also ‘seen’ the mystery of this lotus platform?”

She emphasized the word “seen,” her meaning unmistakable.

Chen Jiu halted abruptly, turning a cold and piercing gaze upon her.

A chill raced through his heart. Could it be this woman had noticed something?

But on second thought, that seemed impossible. He had never revealed his “Heavenly Eye”; how could it have been exposed?

“This lotus platform is indeed a treasure—even I am tempted by it. Might Taoist be willing to let me have it at the Ascension Gathering?” She put on a pitiful expression.

But Chen Jiu was not fooled. This woman was obviously toying with him!

She seemed to know far too much about him—a realization that sent another wave of coldness through his heart.

“Miss, I suggest you mind your words. Farewell.” With that, Chen Jiu swept his sleeve and strode away.

He had barely taken a few steps when her melodious voice echoed, as if spoken directly into his mind: “At noon today, I’ll be waiting for you at ‘Eight Immortals Tavern’... Heavenly Eye Taoist!”

Those last four words struck Chen Jiu’s heart like a hammer.

A surge of killing intent instantly filled his eyes.

When he turned back, however, the woman in purple had vanished. No matter how urgently he searched, she was gone as if she’d evaporated into thin air.

Chen Jiu stood there, his expression dark and uncertain.

As he feared, this woman had discovered his greatest secret.

What he could not determine was when she had uncovered it.

To this day, he had used the Heavenly Eye only a handful of times, and he was certain no one had ever seen the eye upon his brow. Even at Liugou Temple, the old man there had been a mere ghost.

This made the mysterious woman even more suspect.

At that moment, Chen Jiu felt like a wildcat whose tail had been trodden on.

His mind was filled with thoughts of how to silently and swiftly dispose of her.

Anyone who knew of the Heavenly Eye had to die!

Seething with anger, he ascended the stairs to the third floor, intent on gathering information.

…

Noon arrived swiftly.

Glancing back, he saw the “Ascending Immortal Tower” glimmering with a soft, jeweled radiance in the sunlight—magical, truly. But he was in no mood to appreciate it.

Not only had he spent two taels of silver with little to show for it, but the sudden appearance of that woman in purple had thoroughly unsettled him.

Chen Jiu’s philosophy was simple: endure and the storm passes, retreat and the seas widen. Yet after meeting her, he found that the more he endured, the angrier he became. If he took another step back, he’d sooner send her to the afterlife himself!

He could not allow someone who knew his secret to live.

When he first met her, she had seemed no more than an ordinary woman—no overwhelming sense of danger.

But he dared not underestimate her. The fact that she knew about the Heavenly Eye, and could transmit her voice directly into his mind, was enough to shock him.

To regard her as ordinary would be a grave mistake.

Yet he was left with no choice. If she dared to speak so openly and even arranged a meeting, it was clear that he was of some use to her.

But Chen Jiu was no puppet, unwilling to be manipulated. He had his own means now and was confident in his ability to protect himself.

Weighing his abilities, he decided the risk was worth taking.

…

The Eight Immortals Tavern stood in a bustling part of the town’s northern quarter, frequented by local gentry and wealthy patrons.

By the time Chen Jiu arrived, noon had already passed.

The moment he stepped inside, a waiter greeted him with a loud, “Ah! Esteemed Taoist, this way please!”

Chen Jiu frowned at this.

The waiter hurried to explain, “A guest as beautiful as a fairy asked me to wait for you, sir, and to escort you to her private dining room.”

Chen Jiu’s heart tightened. Unseen, he palmed five yellow beans.

“Lead the way,” he said.

Beaming, the waiter bowed and led him to a private chamber.

As the door opened, Chen Jiu saw the woman in purple, her head tilted as she studied him.

The waiter cast Chen Jiu an envious glance, sighing inwardly that perhaps becoming a Taoist was not such a bad idea after all.

Chen Jiu stepped inside but left the door wide open. He remained standing at the threshold, ready to escape at the slightest sign of trouble.

Those who knew his secret deserved death, but threats were only effective if he could back them up…

If he couldn’t win, and didn’t try to flee, then he’d truly be a “pumpkin Taoist.”

The woman called Zixuan propped her chin on her hands and, with a sudden peal of laughter, said, “Pumpkin, why so tense? I don’t bite!”

Chen Jiu’s expression darkened. Somewhat annoyed, he said, “Let’s be frank, Miss—what do you want?”

She arched her elegant brows. “Just call me Zixuan, don’t keep calling me ‘Miss’ or you’ll never find a wife!”

Her manner was gentle and free of menace, but Chen Jiu remained unmoved. “Miss Zixuan, what is it you want?”

The beautiful woman named Zixuan replied, “It’s not about what I want—it’s about what you will do.”

“I invite you to a meal with such sincerity. I ask for no gratitude, yet you meet me with a face full of killing intent, cold as winter itself. Truly, you are a man of little feeling…”

Chen Jiu squinted at her, then let out a short laugh. “Are you a fox spirit?”

Zixuan’s eyes sparkled at the question. “What makes you say so?”

“Because even from across the room,” Chen Jiu replied, “I can smell your wanton charm…”