The vernal equinox draws nigh, for the Dipper points to Ding, and soon it shall swing to Ren.

Within the tranquil courtyard, where the moonbeams mingled with the soft breeze, the red-skirted specter known to the Taoist as Mistress Xue had donned a gown of pristine white this eve, to admire the blossoms.

For even a ghost is a woman, and her chamber held chests overflowing with silken robes.

Yet she sought only solitary delight, and knew nothing of adorning herself for the sake of a suitor.

For the middle-aged Taoist, alas, possessed neither captivating visage nor the slightest charm, his eyes ever fixed upon the glint of coin.

Within the walled garden, flowers bloomed in profusion, and a swing hung still in the air.

She seated herself upon the wooden plank, her hands gripping the ropes, a gentle push of her toes upon the earth setting the swing into a swaying rhythm.

Ere the Taoist’s arrival, the manor lay desolate, choked with weeds, and overrun by vermin.

Now, order reigned, and blossoms burst forth in vibrant hues.

The Taoist, architect of this transformation, squatted upon the stoop, a bowl of some herbal concoction in one hand, and a twig brush in the other, scrubbing his teeth with vigor. Occasionally, he would tilt his head, a guttural sound in his throat, and expel the liquid, renewing his “ablutions.”

“Is this dandelion brew truly as potent as you claim, Taoist?” she asked, “To fortify teeth and strengthen bone?”

Dandelions, common as weeds, flourished in every crevice and crack, unregarded by the elegant tomes and painted scrolls.

“Would I deceive you? Wherein lies the profit?”

The Taoist nodded vigorously, his mouth still full of liquid. “If prepared according to the ancient prescriptions, a Pill of Immortality can be wrought from it. A venerable elder, his hair silvered with age, may see it regain its youthful hue, his teeth sprout anew. For a young man like Zhang, who toils late into the night over his studies, it will sharpen his mind and bolster his frame.”

Xue Ruyi chuckled. “How fortunate, Taoist, that you should possess such a secret elixir on hand. No doubt, the price is steep, but for a friend, a discount, perhaps?”

“Alas, no such serendipity exists,” he replied. “Does Mistress Xue recall the savory gruel of yestere’en? The tender greens, the delicate flavor? I kept the secret close then, but those were but the spring shoots of the dandelion. Lightly simmered, tossed with my secret sauce and sesame oil, they surpass even the rarest delicacies.”

Xue Ruyi nodded. The Taoist possessed a certain flair when it came to the appeasement of the belly, and at minimal expense.

The Taoist ventured, “Should Mistress Xue desire it, I might follow the ancient recipe and distill a single batch of the elixir. Zhang desires to pass the imperial examinations, and his studies have taken their toll. Soon, the dandelions will grow too old, and the potion’s efficacy will wane.”

Xue Ruyi rolled her eyes. After such a circuitous path, did he seek nothing more than to pilfer her coin?

Unbidden, the swing swayed back and forth, a silent witness to her thoughts, her gaze wandering over the verdant growth of the garden.

A memory stirred of crimson walls and golden winter plum, a vision of exquisite beauty from long ago.

If this Taoist spoke true, a life lived amidst the blossoming of flowers could render one impervious to the passage of time.

Thus the courtyard was meticulously maintained, each plant a testament to his care, the air thick with fragrance, the succession of blooms a vibrant tapestry.

Even the “welcome spring” arrangements, a ritual performed by the Taoist, numbered a score, the pine, bamboo, and plum joined by others he proclaimed the “heralds of the season.”

Fine words, indeed, but she knew they were merely wares to be bartered.

One in particular, an ancient bonsai with branches thick as a maiden’s arm, its bark peeling to reveal the aged wood beneath, its roots coiled like dragon claws, stood in a vermillion pot, bent in a posture of rustic elegance. Even a novice could discern its immense worth.

And the peonies, the “last to bloom,” planted in a sun-drenched spot, carefully shielded with straw in the depths of winter, watered daily since the spring thaw, and fertilized with manure to her grimacing dismay.

Xue Ruyi cast a glance at the neatly arranged pots in the corner, their slender, vine-like branches adorned with blossoms of pale gold.

Many a potted plant had come and gone, exchanged for a handful of silver, yet these remained, perhaps favored by the Taoist, or more likely, simply not worth the price of sale.

She pointed. “Are you so fond of these ‘golden belts’?”

A more common name existed for these flowers: forsythia.

The Taoist looked to the corner, nodding. “I am a general commanding an army of flora. The more the merrier. This flower welcomes the spring before all others, its blooms profuse and long-lasting. It holds a special place in my heart.”

Absentmindedly, she asked, “Wu Di, what is your true name?”

The middle-aged Taoist smiled. “Chen Jianxian. To see, to behold, and the virtuous sage.”

She blinked, surprised by his candor.

“Mistress Xue may call me by my full name,” he suggested.

Muttering it twice, Chen Jianxian… Chen the Sword Immortal? Understanding dawned, and Xue Ruyi spat. “No truth in your words! Only the droppings of a cur!”

Wu Di, Invincible. Chen Jianxian, Sword Immortal?

The middle-aged Taoist laughed. “Why such harsh words? I am but grown old, and my temper subdued. In my youth, I would have taken exception. Especially in the days of my righteous anger…”

Truly a deceiver of ghosts.

Xue Ruyi, uninterested, asked, “Why have you come to the capital?”

“To renew an old acquaintance.”

“Acquaintance? With whom? Kin, distant relations? Or a friend from the Jianghu, fallen on hard times, seeking a share in your deception?”

The Taoist shook his head, smiling. “None of those.”

Xue Ruyi’s interest piqued. “Not come seeking revenge, I trust?”

She turned to gaze upon the Taoist, a smile playing upon her lips. “You? With your parlor tricks? You could barely frighten a mouse, let alone a man. If you sought a brawl, how many youths could you best?”

“Have you not seen my daily practice of fist and stance? I need no magic to overcome two or three young men with my bare hands.”

She rolled her eyes. Such paltry exercises could be found in any martial academy in the capital, where a single instructor could lay him flat.

“Tell me, if it is revenge you seek, I might offer counsel. Should murder ensue, I would even help you escape.”

A spectator to a grand spectacle.

The Taoist shook his head. “Mistress Xue, enough of such wild conjecture. It is but the renewal of an old acquaintance, not a bloody vendetta befitting a man of upright standing.”

Had he not learned of the Ma family’s long-laid plans, he would have arrived in Yuxuan earlier to “renew” this old acquaintance.

Though an earlier confrontation would have proved fruitless, and likely resulted in his own demise.

After escorting Li Baoping to the Great Sui Academy, his first journey south to Baoping Island led to a meeting and brawl with Ma Kuxuan in a foreign land.

Fate is unpredictable, for he would linger far longer than he expected at the Sword Qi Great Wall.

And upon his return to the Vast Expanse, he would establish a sect, build a lower sect, borrow mountains and rivers to fill the void in the earth, forge swords in the heavens…

Xue Ruyi spoke, “A dog that bites does not bark. I believe you, who seem so mild, possess a ruthless heart, capable of the swiftest, most merciless acts.”

The Taoist remained unperturbed. “The world is a brew of joys and sorrows, loves and hates, and the only way to truly savor such a brew is to drink it with gusto, as one might drain a flagon of fine wine.”

Xue Ruyi recoiled. “Frightening.”

“Those who fear nothing are never in short supply.”

She thought of the local officials, those who secretly lent coin at exorbitant interest, and trafficked in illicit salt. Such deeds were carried out by trusted lackeys, under the protection of powerful patrons, one a Vice Minister of the Ministry of Punishments, his patron a Secretary, perhaps, or even the Emperor himself, or some ascended Immortal.

“They have amassed such fortunes,” Xue Ruyi wondered. “Why not cease? They possess more wealth than they could spend in generations.”

“For Houses such as theirs to accumulate such vast riches, they must scour the land for wealth, sucking the marrow from the bones of the people, with no regard for morality. It is a matter of cause and effect. The order is simple.”

Xue Ruyi was silenced.

Conversation with him proved pleasant enough, so long as it did not veer toward moral philosophy.

He had once joined the common folk in carving ice from frozen rivers, seeking any means to turn a profit, and he possessed a remarkable talent for the trade of bonsai.

When he first arrived at the manor, she had divined his true nature. Though driven by greed, he was a gentleman in matters of the flesh.

She had often teased this man, as serious as a scholar of Tao, until one day, with a single phrase, he repulsed her so thoroughly that she never again dared to jest. She sat upon the swing, as he rested on the steps, turning to ask if he was admiring her bottom.

Previously, he had ignored her lewd jokes, pretending not to hear.

Perhaps he had grown weary of her taunts, for he uttered that day, “A larger arse merely produces more waste.”

Crude! Lewd!

Xue Ruyi sighed. “Flowers for but a season.”

What did it matter to the enlightened, whether Taoist or ghost, how men lived and died, or to scholars, how flowers bloomed and withered?

“How did you become a Qi Practitioner?” she inquired.

The Taoist smiled. “By fortune and chance, I learned the art of mountain climbing in my youth.”

She turned away, whispering, “You are a clever man. You must have guessed that my presence here, as a ghost, is not without its protectors.”

The Taoist nodded, understanding. “You have friends in high places.”

Within the capital’s City God Temple resided a powerful judge, an acquaintance from her former life.

He had twice visited the manor under cover of night. But they had been clandestine visits, without pomp or fanfare.

The yin and yang each had its bureaucracy, and this judge, one of the City God’s right-hand men, oversaw the six departments, including the chief department of Yin and Yang. This was the past, of course. The present remained to be seen.

In any officialdom, whether of the living or the dead, talent was secondary to the art of affiliation.

Suddenly, Xue Ruyi turned, her face a mask of chilling fury.

“Mistress Xue, we are both upright souls,” the Taoist said in exasperation. “Cease such thoughts.”

Read less of romantic tales, and more of the scriptures.

“How do you know what I think?” Xue Ruyi retorted.

“Give a dog a bad name and hang him,” the Taoist quipped.

Seeing the ghost’s continued displeasure, he continued, “You may accuse me of greed, Mistress Xue, but lechery? You may doubt my character, but surely you trust your own judgment of mine?”

Xue Ruyi conceded his point.

“If I may be so bold,” the Taoist inquired, “Who is your patron in the netherworld? What rank does he hold, that allows you to dwell a mere stone’s throw from the county government, untouched by any official from the City God Temple?”

Xue Ruyi sneered. “I am a friend of the Jailor General of the City God Temple. Does that frighten you?”

The Taoist swallowed hard, rising to his feet, clasping his hands and shaking them reverently toward the Temple. “I am a man of cultivation, my spirit pure. Evil cannot touch me. I have no fear of walking in the darkness. The Jailor General, especially the general of our county, is a servant of justice, as are the Seven and Eight Lords! Should I have the ear of the officials at the City God Temple, I would advocate for their promotion!”

Xue Ruyi rubbed her temples. Did he truly believe such flattery could reach their ears?

This place was like no other. Even the County City God held no sway here.

“Chen Jianxian, do you have no love for any woman?”

Otherwise, why would he be so far from home?

“I do, indeed.”

“Really?”

Xue Ruyi knew him to be a true Qi Practitioner, albeit a minor one. Perhaps a second realm cultivator? A third at most? Still, he had stepped upon the path.

“What is she like?” she teased. “Your age, or younger? Has she lost her senses to fall for you? A man of middle age is of no use to anyone. You, pushing forty, a failed Taoist with nothing more than a private license, stumbling about, seeking fortune. Bring her to me. I will sever your bond and save her from your folly.”

As a fortune-teller, he earned a fair sum, often surpassing the earnings of modest families in the capital.

But for a Qi Practitioner, it was nothing. Toiling under the sun for years, earning merely a snow-white coin?

Chen Jianxian smiled. “You cannot.”

Xue Ruyi scoffed. “Can a woman who fancies you be fair of face?”

The middle-aged man on the stoop merely smiled, his arms crossed, his gaze turning to the moon, his eyes gentle.

Xue Ruyi scowled.

Ugh, so cheesy.

The man might be poor, the object of his affection, perhaps, plain. Yet they loved each other.

Men’s words were deceitful, but their eyes did not lie.

The Taoist produced a flagon of vermilion wine, worn smooth by time.

Xue Ruyi inhaled the aroma. “What wine is this, so fragrant?”

“A homemade brew,” the Taoist said with a smile. “It is both delicious and affordable, but must be savored sparingly.”

Xue Ruyi stood upon the swing.

She recalled how, when the middle-aged Taoist first arrived, the swing would move on its own, accompanied by a cascade of silver laughter.

The passing Taoist, terrified, would rip a fistful of talismans from his sleeves, his hands trembling, and light them with a tinderbox. He would then brandish the flaming papers high, chanting incantations, creating a fiery dragon, before fleeing in haste, slamming the door shut, and plastering the walls and windows with cheap yellow talismans.

The Taoist watched the silhouette on the swing, sighing, and raising his flagon to his lips.

The scene was both familiar and strange. Walls and swings, Taoist and specter.

Xue Ruyi chuckled. “Who do you seek? You’ve been here so long, and yet remain unseen. Is it the Emperor himself?”

The Taoist seemed reluctant to speak of it, changing the subject. “The vernal equinox draws near. Mistress Xue should take heed.”

At the equinox, the yin and yang are in perfect balance, the days and nights equal, the weather temperate. Yin and yang meet as thunder, surge as lightning.

For ghosts, the span between the Awakening of Insects and Qingming is a difficult time, especially the equinox, as yang flourishes, driving back the yin, birthing thunder.

Xue Ruyi remained indifferent. She was a ghost, but an enlightened one, akin to a heroic spirit, impervious to the forces of nature.

The middle-aged Taoist spoke without expectation. “I will present a feast of spring dishes, as custom demands: spring vegetables, bamboo shoots, artemisia, toon… I have traveled the length and breadth of this land. Near the Rainbow Kingdom, at the equinox, the rivers run thick with carp and mandarin fish, delicious steamed or braised. Further south, by the sea, a platter of clams and chives. Delicious!”

“Is eating all you think about?” Xue Ruyi scoffed.

“The people are sustained by food,” the Taoist replied with a smile.

Xue Ruyi fell silent, leaping from the swing, stretching with interlocked fingers.

The Taoist looked to the heavens. “A vernal rain brings a bountiful year, but this year the capital will be blessed with sun.”

Lowering his gaze, he added, “I foresee thunder on Qingming. And it will be of great magnitude. Let Mistress Xue not fret.”

“The Honorable Taoist Chen can divine the heavens, as well as the hearts of men?” Xue Ruyi mocked. “Truly, a hidden talent.”

“All learning, from the most profound to the most simple, is a matter of gradual understanding. Easy, and yet difficult.”

Xue Ruyi twirled her wrist, preparing to depart.

The Taoist gestured to the side hall of the main building. “Mistress Xue, I may need the use of this place in the coming days. I sought to give you fair warning.”

Xue Ruyi nodded, her eyes filled with curiosity. “What for? A banquet for friends? Afraid I might spoil the fun?”

The Taoist shook his head, smiling. “The secrets of heaven cannot be spoken.”

“A banquet is well enough,” Xue Ruyi cautioned, “But do not bring courtesans here. Their presence will foul the air!”

The Taoist waved his hands. “Scores of taels for an evening? Am I drinking wine, or coin?”

Xue Ruyi scoffed. “You know the cost, indeed. Truly, a man’s virtue is tested by his wealth.”

“A man feigns foolishness only when he lacks the coin to act. I, who am as fair as the moon, am the truly virtuous.”

Xue Ruyi floated away.

The Taoist stepped into the hall, surveying the long table, nodding. He clenched and twisted his hands, preparing to retrieve his brush, ink, and paper, and commence his work.

Turning, he found a head dangling before him, and instinctively struck out with his fist, halting it just before it struck the ghost. “Xue Ruyi, you will give me a heart attack!”

The ghost floated down. The Taoist stormed from the hall, and she followed, asking, “What will you do in the hall?”

The Taoist snorted. “It is not easy to live in the capital. A horse cannot thrive without fodder. I must earn my keep.”

The ghost yawned. “I find it curious that you, a mere dabbler in Qi Cultivation, should love money so much.”

“Life demands firewood, rice, oil, and salt. Money judges all, without mercy, so long as there is not a single ‘only’. To be an Immortal, to be truly real, is to be serious, not to judge, so long as there cannot be a single ‘no’.”

“Cultivating, cultivating, a thousand paths, ten thousand methods, all leading to a single word.”

Xue Ruyi frowned. “Which is?”

“Heart.”

“The unity of form and spirit, the harmony of mind and soul.”

Perhaps it was from years of wandering, from life in the Jianghu. In any case, he had knowledge of arcane and unorthodox arts. Though he had limited skill in cultivation, his knowledge was broad.

He could converse on any topic.

The Taoist continued, “Earth Immortals, they are demigods, who reside between Heaven and Earth, cultivating their forms, residing in the world, with long lives, bordering on immortality.”

“Ghosts who attain enlightenment become Ghost Immortals. But these are lesser than Earth Immortals, for they have forsaken their yang body, retaining only a yin spirit. It is not the true Dao. They lack distinct features, without place on any of the Three Mountains, and can never be truly reborn. They find themselves without destination, with no retreat. Their path to enlightenment is far more difficult…”

Xue Ruyi followed, her mind swirling. She had never heard such tales.

He must have copied them from some obscure novel.

The middle-aged Taoist paused, reaching into his sleeve, smiling. “Mistress Xue, we are kindred spirits. You may think me a talented physiognomist, but my true mastery lies in the art of talisman. Shall we strike a bargain? It is most effective for cultivators such as yourself. After ablutions, burn this talisman, light three sticks of incense, recite a few words from the heart, such as, ‘So and so pays respects to the Three Mountains and Nine Lords’, and the effect will be astonishing!”

She scoffed. “The same old trick! Can you not devise something new?”

The Taoist sighed. “Other talismans may fall short, but this one is genuine. I would not have shown it to anyone but you. Buying one is a small profit, buying a pile is a big profit, more for more, it is all profit. I would never have shown it to anyone other than you.

Xue Ruyi sneered. “If it is so potent, why do you not use it yourself?”

The Taoist looked at her with pity.

The sort of look a clever man gives a fool.

She knew she had spoken unwisely. He had, after all, said it was useful for cultivators such as herself. Hesitating, she beckoned. “Let me see this wonder.”

A simple yellow talisman, with crude vermillion ink. The paper was decorated with three mountains, strange and unfitting for a proper talisman.

She would not be a fool. Though her mind was made, she asked, “How many coins for a talisman?”

The Taoist groaned. “Coins? It would not pay for the talisman paper!”

Xue Ruyi countered, “Old Liu next door sells such paper for a pittance. If the Honorable Taoist could but cut it smaller, you would profit tenfold!”

No wonder he called Old Liu “Brother” every time they met.

“The paper is worthless, but the art is priceless. A mountain need not be tall if it has a spirit. The talisman is the same. It is the spirit within that matters, not the paper.”

When the Taoist remained silent and unashamed, he reached into his sleeve once more. “Very well, Mistress Xue has a discerning eye. I have some better quality ones, though the price is higher. I will rarely reveal the details of such treasures…”

Truly, he was a merchant through and through, with tricks aplenty.

“Spare me the self-deprecating ‘I’, Chen Celestial Master. Are you not ashamed?”

Xue Ruyi threw the talisman back to the Taoist, and stalked away.

The equinox: a day without rain, the air warm.

The outskirts of the capital teemed with those seeking the verdant fields, noble sons on horseback, and beauties, their hair adorned with spring ornaments.

Kites filled the air: nimble swallows, lengthy centipedes, locked in aerial combat. The renowned kite shops of the capital prospered.

In accordance with court ritual, the Emperor would perform the Rite of the Sun at the altar on the equinox.

After the rite, the Emperor would commission the Ministry of Rites to bestow a “Spring Ox Picture,” created by the imperial court, upon officials of the fourth rank and above. The picture was painted on dragon-patterned red paper, and inscribed with the sayings and newly composed poems of the scholars of the Hanlin Academy. The messengers who delivered these pictures were young officials of proper countenance. Newly appointed officials of other ministries would also participate in the delivery, and would be known as “Spring Messengers.” The gatekeepers of the noble and powerful would reward these messengers with a symbolic gift of money. Following the example of their superiors, the common folk employed similar “Spring Reciters” to deliver such pictures, hoping for a reward in return, by saying auspicious sayings. Of course, most efforts were met with rejection. Many wealthy families, tired of the repeated knockings, would tell their gatekeepers to chase such reciters away.

In Yuxuan’s capital, however, the experienced spring reciters would journey far to Yongjia Street, where the families had been wealthy for generations. They would only seek the Ma residence, for they would never be turned away, and would always receive a generous reward. It was said that the gatekeepers of the Ma family spent their days handing out red envelopes. Anyone who offered a spring picture and uttered a blessing of prosperity would be rewarded with six taels of silver! The gatekeepers of the Ma family, weary as they may be, always greeted the visitors with smiles.

The capital consisted of two districts, the north being wealthy, and the south, poor. The southern district was governed by the Changning County Government.

Two spring reciters, old and young, had traveled from the north, to earn a living in the south. One bore the spring picture, the other the blessings. From dawn to dusk, they had traveled about, paying tribute to a local gang. They only made three taels of silver. This seemingly temporary job was governed by regulations. Not just anyone could be a spring reciter, and they could not knock on just any door. Should one break the rules, they would be beaten senseless in an alley. The young man fared better than the old one. As dusk fell, the young man had some luck, but the old man began to tire. No one answered the knocks on the doors of this street. Were the residents truly so poor? Given its proximity to the Changning County Government, this should not be. The old man had spent eight qian of silver on the street’s recitation rights. Eight qian of silver, all for naught. He furrowed his brow.

The young man suggested trying elsewhere. The old man smiled and demurred. The young man helped the old man massage his legs.

The doors of a residence creaked open, and a middle-aged Taoist emerged. The young man stood up, reaching for a spring picture. The old man was too tired, so the youth would perform the recitation. But ere he could speak, the Taoist smiled and waved his hand. “A colleague.”

No words could have conveyed a greater rejection.

The young man was crestfallen, his expression incredulous. It was fine to be denied, but why the prevarication?

The middle-aged Taoist reached into his sleeve and produced a sheet of xuan paper. With a flourish, he stroked his beard. “The spring pictures in this region are all based on my work.”

The old man stood up, studying the document, bowing, and asking, “Honorable Taoist, you paint spring pictures?”

The Taoist bowed in return. “I am but a pauper.”

“How much do you charge for a spring picture?”

“Ten wen.”

“So cheap! It is half the price of those from Yongjia District!”

The pictures hawked by the commoners were far cruder than the court’s imperial ones.

“I am generous.”

“May I commission one hundred pictures for next year?”

The Taoist shook his head. “Alas, I am but a traveler. I will not be here for long.”

The young man spoke. “I heard that there is a fortune-teller near the Changning County Government, and that his readings are accurate.”

The middle-aged Taoist stroked his beard, smiling. “It so happens that you speak of me.”

The young man was filled with joy. “Are you the legendary Wu the Immortal?”

The Taoist squinted. “Overrated.”

On the wall, the colorfully garbed ghost rolled her eyes.

The old man looked to his young companion, whose eyes were filled with hope. He could not bear to speak.

The Taoist asked, “Young master, do you seek fortune in love, or wealth?”

The young man blushed. This Taoist was too kind.

The young man steeled his resolve. “None of those. I wish to ask something. Can you draw some talismans, the kind burned in a pot on the roadside to venerate one’s ancestors?”

The Taoist asked, “Why not burn paper at a gravesite on Qingming?”

The young man replied, “My grandfather and I are from afar. We traveled a long way. Our home has long been gone.”

The old man sighed. They were not true grandfather and grandson. Their story was a long and painful one.

At first, the old man cared for the boy. Then the boy cared for the old man. They were each other’s debtors, and each other’s creditors.

The Taoist asked, “How much are you willing to pay for such a talisman?”

“All that I have! And if it is not enough, I will write an IOU!”

“No IOU is to be trusted. How much do you possess now?”

“I have seven taels and eight qian of silver, and a jar of copper coins!”

“So little?”

The young man hung his head in shame. The old man felt guilty.

“I can draw a Three Official Talisman, to bestow blessings, absolve sins, and dispel calamity.”

The Taoist pondered. Then he shook his head. “Alas, the talisman is precious, and your coin is not enough.”

Ere the young man could speak, the Taoist waved his hand, dismissing them. “Enough.”

The young man stood his ground. The Taoist asked, “Do you have the will to borrow, steal, or rob, to raise one hundred taels of silver?”

The dark-skinned youth hung his head.

The Taoist stared into the young man’s eyes, staring into himself.

The young man bowed, and departed with the old man.

Homeless travelers, longing for home.

On the wall, the ghost’s face was grim.

Words could inflict the pain of swords.

The Taoist shouted after the young man. The youth turned in confusion. The Taoist smiled. “Heaven helps those who help themselves.”

He waved his hand. “Go.”

The young man paused, and bowed once more.

Then the Taoist crossed his arms, and returned to the residence.

Xue Ruyi stood within the gates, sneering. “So this is the enlightened man. What a heart of stone! If you cannot help, do not prance about. And if you will not help, then keep your tricks to yourself. You disgust me!”

She had been growing fond of this money-grubbing Taoist, but this scene had enraged her.

The Taoist smiled. “A humble man speaks truth.”

The colorfully garbed ghost vanished, leaving the words, “Leave this house in three days.”

The Taoist merely smiled.

Night fell.

The watchman’s clanging echoed in the distance.

The two colorfully painted Door Gods on the gate glinted with gold. Two high-ranking officials from the City God Temple emerged: the man a scholar, the woman a golden warrior with a seven-starred sword.

Xue Ruyi detected the disturbance at the gate, and glided from the attic to greet them with a humble bow. “Greetings, Judge Hong, Sister Ji.”

The scribe inclined his head in response. He had only brought one confidant with him, one who had overseen the Yin Yang Department for three hundred years.

The head of the Yin Yang Department in the City God Temples was the City God’s right hand man.

The female hero greeted her. “Ruyi, long time no see. How have you been?”

Xue Ruyi had been a palace maid for the queen, who nearly seized the throne. Her nickname was Ruyi.

She whispered, “Has the first rank on the imperial exams been decided as well?”

The City God Officer heaved a sigh. “Not only the first, but even the rank of top scorer on the future spring examination, will be yielded to a fool. In fact, the entire spring examination has already been decided behind closed doors.”

Xue Ruyi bit her lip, her expression mournful. “How can this be? That Ma Ce should excel is one thing, but why should these wastrels be able to attain glory?”

The master of the Yin Yang Department hesitated. “Judge Wu is involved.”

Xue Ruyi raged, “They dare trifle with the fate of the nation?! Ji Xiaoping, you and Judge Hong, and the City God himself, know of this. Why do you not intervene?!”

Ji Xiaoping said, “Judge Wu has an excuse. It involves ancestral blessings, and philanthropic acts in the living world. Xue Ruyi, you can think of it as exploiting loopholes in the netherworld’s laws. And the mountain where the Prince of West Yue dwells…”

The judge frowned. “Be careful what you say.”

Ji Xiaoping changed her words. “Unless you lodge a complaint with the Court of Appeals of West Yue. But filing a complaint beyond your authority is taboo.”

Ji Xiaoping looked at the judge with a complex expression.

The judge said bitterly, “I have little influence, save for Ji Xiaoping’s department. Even the department of culture has turned to Judge Wu. All servants follow the emperor.”

The culture and military departments of the City God Temple depended on the era.

“Someone is trying to remove Old Hong from the Capital City God Temple,” Ji Xiaoping said.

She added, “One rotten apple spoils the barrel!”

Ji Xiaoping continued, “Old Hong is likely to be sent to a location near Dali’s secondary capital, to be a city god of a state.”

From capital to secondary, it was definitely a promotion.

Xue Ruyi bowed. “I congratulate Judge Hong.”

The judge said, “A promotion is still a promotion. But I am bitter to leave.”

The City Gods of each jurisdiction have no human sentiment, and cannot interfere in the affairs of others. In short, all affairs here cannot be mixed with affairs there. Unless two people are from different jurisdictions, they will not work together unless the matter involves a murder.

Xue Ruyi said, “You have waited this long. Waiting a few years longer will be nothing.”

The judge glanced at the garden. “The Taoist is not bad.”

Ji Xiaoping nodded. “Looking at how he treats the plants, it can be seen he is not a mere money-grubber.”

Inside a house, the Taoist snored.

Xue Ruyi was filled with hatred. “His real name is Chen Jianxian.”

Ji Xiaoping shook her head. “It cannot be trusted.”

Judge Hong smiled. “I prefer this name. It is good to see virtue.”

Take it from the top, see the virtue and think together, the gentleman is cautious and alone, see the unworthy and self-reflect.

Ji Xiaoping hesitated. “The Honorable Xue, neither the Honorable Hong nor I can see the Taoist’s level. He is not a local, so we cannot read his files. His credentials are also fake. If he had violated any rules, we could have investigated him. ”

She could not ask another City God for such a personal matter.

The fact that the man chose the house made Xue Ruyi suspect him. As a master of the Capital City God Temple, he had visited the place twice to find out his origin, and if he coveted the treasure. Qi practitioners, especially those who could do anything to reach their goals, could use anything.

In fact, Chen Pingan was merely passing through, and had no plans.

A treasure that already has an owner is valuable, but not a land without an owner. What could he seize?

Ji Xiaoping’s expression changed. “He is here?”

Ma Kuxuan!

She did not even dare say his name directly.

The judge was also troubled. “He just entered the city. He got drunk with Song Yu on Zhe’er Mountain, and disappeared. Why did he arrive so late?”

Inside the house, the Taoist slowly opened his eyes, but soon snored.