SS CH74

Er Niang was a woman of few words.

She wore white robes, her long hair hanging loose. Her complexion was deathly pale and her features plain, save for the corners of her eyes and lips which were a striking, blood-red, lending her a touch of bewitching allure. At first glance, she looked like a vengeful ghost demanding a life.

Because she was taciturn, Ye Fusheng naturally did not bore himself by trying to force conversation. After asking a few simple questions, the two walked the rest of the way in peaceful silence, passing through a grove of plum blossoms that had yet to bloom before arriving at the courtyard gate.

Ye Fusheng examined the small courtyard. It looked much newer than the adjacent Liufeng Residence, likely constructed at a later date.

Shen Wuduan had lived in the Liufeng Residence back in the day, and at that time, the Fuxue Courtyard probably did not exist. Why would he build another courtyard right next to his own residence?

According to Er Niang, after Qin Liurong entered the Hundred Ghosts Sect, she and Shen Wuduan had always lived in the Liufeng Residence before later moving to the Qingxu Pavilion. Therefore, even though the Fuxue Courtyard was very close to the Liufeng Residence, it was not a courtyard for the masters’ permanent residence; rather, it was a place used to host people they were intimately close with.

This made it even more perplexing.

Ye Fusheng kept his expression neutral as he watched Er Niang unlock the heavy bronze padlock on the door and hand both the lock and key over to him. “Please enter, Young Master,” she said. “The Old Sect Master previously ordered that we are not allowed inside, so I can only escort you this far. You may go in and have a look first. I will summon a few servants to attend to you; if you lack anything, simply tell them.”

She spoke clearly and obviously had no intention of accompanying him inside. Ye Fusheng did not make things difficult; he returned a polite smile and bow before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

As soon as he entered, Ye Fusheng caught a faint, lingering fragrance. It was already approaching winter, yet there were still orchids blooming in the courtyard. Looking closely, he saw an unblooming plum tree planted in the courtyard, surrounded by various types of orchids in every direction. There were varieties that bloomed across all four seasons—spring, summer, autumn, and winter. No wonder the courtyard didn’t look desolate even now.

He had heard that Shen Wuduan ordered the construction of the Fuxue Courtyard and personally arranged it. It could be said he had put a great deal of heart into it.

Ye Fusheng sighed in admiration for a moment before walking along the bluestone path toward the house. From the front hall to the side rooms, every piece of furniture and decoration was exquisite. Though lacking in ostentatious jewels and gold, the space was deeply serene and elegant.

In the bedroom stood a folding screen with a silk base, hand-embroidered with a scene of flying birds emerging from the clouds. Every feather and wisp of cloud was remarkably lifelike. Ye Fusheng stared at it for a long while before turning to examine the other furnishings in the room. Judging by the arrangement of the items, it seemed no one had lived here for a long time, but because it had been properly maintained, it was neat and clean without a speck of dust.

He finally entered the study. Just as his foot crossed the threshold, he saw that there were actually three people sitting inside!

One man and two women sat around a small square sandalwood table. Tea and pastries were set on the table, while the seat of honor remained empty.

Before Ye Fusheng could even utter the word “excuse me,” his gaze swept across their faces, and his body jolted as if struck by lightning.

The woman on the right wore a pale yellow dress, her hair pinned up high. A white veil covered her face, revealing only a pair of willow-leaf brows and eyes as clear as autumn waters. She held a teapot, appearing as if she were about to pour tea.

The man seated at the lower position had his back to Ye Fusheng. His frame appeared quite tall and slender, his ink-black long hair partially bound by an ebony hairpin, and he wore a Daoist robe with overlapping black and white patterns.

The woman on the left sat cross-legged in a carefree manner. She wore a crimson dress, her hair tied into a simple ponytail with a peach blossom hairpin, exposing a smooth forehead and neck. Resting her chin on one hand, she looked at the man beside her. Her half-turned face wasn’t breathtakingly radiant, but her features were clearly delicate yet possessing a grand, heroic spirit.

How was this possible?

How was it possible!

Upon seeing her profile, Ye Fusheng’s legs gave way, unable to stand firm, and he fell heavily to his knees on the floor. But he wasn’t in a hurry to get up; instead, he shuffled forward on his knees to the table, staring intensely at the man and woman for a long time. Only then did he finally realize that none of them were living people. They were meticulously crafted dolls made by a master artisan. Even their hair strands and fingernails were detailed enough to pass for real—they simply lacked the breath of the living.

From extreme shock to extreme joy, a massive emotional rollercoaster—Ye Fusheng suddenly leaned forward and forcefully kowtowed three times.

“Shifu, Shiniang!”

The skin on his forehead broke, but he did not dare to rise for a long time. The man who was always lackadaisical, who would treat the sky falling as nothing more than a blanket to sleep under, was now covered in tears, sobbing uncontrollably.

He was nearly thirty this year. Thirteen years had flowed away like a great river heading east, stealing the years of a frivolous, arrogant youth and replacing them with an exterior of unhurried composure. Yet, there were many things he could never forget.

Gu Xiao would forever remember the not-so-broad back he leaned against in his childhood, and remember those light yet strict words of advice.

Ye Fusheng also remembered the scalding heat of fresh blood flowing down the saber hilt onto his hands thirteen years ago, and remembered the lean Daoist looking up at him, eyes filled with utter grief and disbelief.

This was a sin he would not forget for his entire life.

“You truly are of the Jinghong lineage.”

Shen Wuduan’s voice came from the doorway. He stepped into the room and looked down at the kneeling Ye Fusheng, his expression neutral, showing neither joy nor anger.

He sat in the empty seat of honor, took the teapot from the yellow-clad woman’s hands, and poured cold tea until every cup was eighty percent full. Only then did he say to Ye Fusheng, “A grown man should stand up when he speaks.”

Ye Fusheng rose to his feet, barely suppressing the turbulent emotions churning in his chest. His voice was still hoarse. “Senior Shen, did you have ties with my Shifu?”

“Your Shifu and I were good buddies who became friends after fighting. Heh, if she were still around to hear me say that, she’d definitely beat me up.” Shen Wuduan smiled. “As for Duanqing, he is the original owner of this Fuxue Courtyard. Unfortunately, after parting ways here thirty years ago, we never reunited again, and this place has been left vacant for a full thirty years.”

Ye Fusheng paused, stunned. “Why?”

“Duanqing said he was entangled in trouble that was inconvenient for the Hundred Ghosts Sect to interfere in. Gu Qifang also said she had picked up a young disciple and would be too busy raising the child to bother with me.” Shen Wuduan raised his eyes to look at him. “I heard that child took her surname and was named Gu Xiao. That’s you, isn’t it.”

Ye Fusheng’s hands trembled slightly. “It is,” he replied softly.

Shen Wuduan took a sip of tea. “That’s good. Back then, they both claimed they were afraid I would be a bad influence on the child and refused to bring you over for me to see. Today, I’ve finally met you.”

Ye Fusheng pressed his lips together. These past affairs of his elders, of which he had known absolutely nothing, crashed down on him so unexpectedly. Though he wasn’t completely dizzy, his head was full of fog, and he displayed a rare hint of helplessness. “I-I never heard Shifu mention having any ties with the Hundred Ghosts Sect.”

Shen Wuduan laughed. “Her ties were never with the Hundred Ghosts Sect, but with me.”

Ye Fusheng looked up. “How did Senior guess?”

“Gu Qifang and I fought hundreds, if not thousands, of times back then. I couldn’t be more familiar with the martial arts and footwork of the Jinghong lineage.” Shen Wuduan scoffed lightly. “You have a bit more adaptable agility than her, but you also lack a bit of her carefree ease. What is it that weighs on your heart?”

Ye Fusheng asked in return, “Thirteen years ago, did Senior go to Feiyun Peak?”

“I did. Unfortunately, by the time I arrived, that mountain had already been scorched by a massive fire, leaving not a blade of grass alive. I brought men to turn over every single rock and patch of dirt, but we couldn’t find them. In the end, we only dug out the ‘Yinxue Dagger’ I had given to Duanqing in our early years from beneath the ruins of their house.” Shen Wuduan’s fingers tapped against the tabletop, a terrifying flash of murderous intent crossing his features. “What exactly happened back then? Are Duanqing and Gu Qifang… truly dead?”

The hand Ye Fusheng had clenched into a fist tightened further, his eyelashes trembling. “My Shifu passed away thirteen years ago.”

Even though he had prepared himself for it long ago, Shen Wuduan’s mind still went completely blank for a split second.

The teacup in his hand shattered, but he seemed not to feel it, continuing to grip it tightly as the porcelain shards pierced his palm.

Only when the scent of fresh blood permeated the air did he snap back to his senses. Pulling out the shards with a handkerchief, he kept his eyes locked on Ye Fusheng and pressed, “And Duanqing?”

Ye Fusheng untied the empty small silver flask from his waist and placed it on the table. He said softly, “He is still in the mortal realm.”

Shen Wuduan stared fixedly at the palm-sized silver flask. After a long while, he asked, “What exactly happened back then? How did Gu Qifang die?”