After Swapping Identities With My Archenemy - Chapter 55

Chapter 55: Illusion

When the three guests entered, Jiang Huaiyi did her best to act like the mistress of the house.

To make the performance more convincing, she and Shen Wensi had agreed she should wear Shen’s clothes. However, Shen Wensi was quite tall; on Jiang Huaiyi, the silk pajamas looked loose and oversized. Fortunately, she wore her own trousers underneath, so there was no risk of a wardrobe malfunction.

She kept her hands clasped nervously behind her back, offering a polite, slightly stiff smile as they sat down.

The living room was pin-drop silent. Chu Lianxue and Mu Ze exchanged a glance, both seeing the same shock in each other’s eyes.

“Fellow Daoist Jiang… is this your house?”

Looking at the expensive, sophisticated decor, the two were suddenly bewildered. We live in the same city how is her lifestyle so much better than ours?

Jiang Huaiyi nodded sheepishly. She was terrible at lying, so she simply maintained a neutral expression and hoped for the best. Little did she know, this only improved their opinion of her: they saw her as a wealthy cultivator who was incredibly low-key and humble.

Song Rong, on the other hand, was quite calm; her own family was very wealthy. Her parents had fully supported her coming to thank her savior. Once seated, she reached into her backpack, pulled out a wrapped object, and placed it on the coffee table.

The atmosphere finally livened up as they looked at the item.

“Is this from inside the scroll?” Chu Lianxue picked it up to examine it.

It was a peculiar object. Without the lampwick they had retrieved earlier, one would never guess this was a lampstand. It was long, heavy, and made of an unidentifiable material. Unlike the ones seen in the illusory yamen, this one was pitch black and shaped like a winding, sinuous snake.

Under the sunlight, it took on a weathered, brownish hue—like the dried stain of spilled soy sauce. It coiled upward for about thirty centimeters, ending in a snake’s head with protruding brow ridges and a hollow mouth.

Jiang Huaiyi took out the lampwick and slid it inside. It was a perfect fit. The tip of the wick protruded slightly from the mouth, resembling a flicking tongue.

The moment the pieces were joined, the lampstand seemed to “wake up.” Red veins flared across the surface, transforming into tiny, realistic scales. The stone crust covering the snake’s eyes cracked and fell away, revealing two glittering ruby eyeballs. The entire stand radiated a sudden, palpable chill, looking so lifelike that in a dimmer room, one would surely mistake it for a real serpent.

The wick trembled slightly in its mouth, mimicking the movement of a snake’s tongue. It was terrifyingly beautiful.

“Heavens, what is this?” Mu Ze and Chu Lianxue exclaimed.

“Don’t be ignorant,” Mu Ze snapped, though her eyes were wide. “It’s clearly a Dharma vessel.”

Chu Lianxue rolled her eyes. “Oh, since you’re so smart, what’s it for?”

Mu Ze didn’t miss a beat. “Lighting!”

The group fell silent. Jiang Huaiyi sighed inwardly; she had hoped for some profound insight, not a statement of the obvious.

Usually, ancient lamps were simple—a flat tray on a pedestal. This snake design was rare. Jiang Huaiyi recalled seeing a silver-headed human-shaped bronze lamp from the Warring States period in a museum once, but this was far more exquisite. It was also heavy—nearly ten pounds.

As Jiang Huaiyi pondered, she glanced at Shen Wensi. If they weren’t surrounded by people, she would have asked her directly if she saw anything unusual. Shen Wensi was leaning back, sipping tea. Finding the cup empty, Jiang Huaiyi quietly refilled it.

While the other two continued to bicker, Song Rong suddenly spoke up.

“It feels like it’s meant for leading the way. When I was little, my grandfather told me a legend. He said that deep in the mountains, there are Jiao (River Dragons) that have cultivated for centuries. Legend says if you use a lamp fueled by Mermaid oil from the deep sea, you can find them.”

Everyone turned to look at the shy girl. Jiang Huaiyi pushed a plate of fruit toward her, encouraging her to continue. Song Rong took a bite of a green tangerine and squinted happily before going on.

“It’s an old story. My grandfather’s grandfather went into the Qinling Mountains with several families decades ago. Only he and a few local guides came back. He said a Jiao had gone mad. People tried to capture it before it could transform into a dragon since a Jiao has no magic power before it ascends, it fought with everything it had. No one who went into the inner circle survived.”

“What happened to the Jiao?” Chu Lianxue asked.

Song Rong shook her head. “No one knows. Some say it died; others say it ascended. But people found a massive, discarded snake skin. Grandfather said he caught a glimpse of a creature over twenty meters long thrashing through the forest. Something that big doesn’t just vanish, yet no one has found a trace of it for decades.”

She looked at the lamp on the table. “I thought this looked strange when I found it, but I didn’t show my family. It looks exactly like the ‘guide lamps’ described in the family journals from that expedition.”

The room grew quiet as they looked at the snake lamp with newfound scrutiny. However, the three guests had no desire to keep the artifact; their brush with death in the scroll was enough. Seeing that Jiang Huaiyi was safe, they prepared to leave.

Outside, the early winter sunset was golden and warm. Jiang Huaiyi, bracing for the hit to her wallet, prepared to invite them to dinner. But as they rose, the doorbell rang.

Shen Wensi went to the door and brought in two large bags. The unique lotus-leaf packaging was unmistakable—it was from the most famous and expensive restaurant in Rongcheng. Even Chu Lianxue and Mu Ze, who usually only ate there when a wealthy client was paying, couldn’t help but salivate.

The five of them sat down and shared a lavish dinner.

After seeing the guests out and taking out the trash, Jiang Huaiyi returned to find Shen Wensi intensely studying the lamp. Bits of sand and grit lay around it, as if she had peeled away a layer of concealment. Under the indoor lights, the black scales shimmered with an iridescent, “colorful black” glow.

Jiang Huaiyi sat on the sofa and pulled out the silk paper. “This must be the next task. I wonder if the location is really where Song Rong said.”

Shen Wensi leaned in close to read the paper with her. They were much closer than their usual “safe” distance. Shen Wensi propped one hand on the coffee table, her posture relaxed.

Jiang Huaiyi could smell a faint, cold fragrance—a ghostly, elegant scent—wafting from her.

“It seems so,” Shen Wensi whispered. “We’ll rest for a few days, get things in order, and then head to Qinling.”

Jiang Huaiyi felt a sudden lightheadedness. She wasn’t sure if it was because Shen Wensi had used the word “we,” or the excitement of hunting a dragon. In the soft light, Shen Wensi’s profile looked unusually gentle, lacking its usual icy distance.

Her throat felt dry. Her heart began to race with a restless, uncontrollable energy she couldn’t name.

Impulsively, Jiang Huaiyi reached out and threw her arms around the woman leaning over her.

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