Junior Brother Has No Idea - Chapter 8

Han Wenzi left the estate periodically to travel the Eastern State, exorcising demons for the common folk. Since Daoist Master Fuying was visiting, she had invited the Immortal Master to join her.

In the family courtyard, the three Xie brothers were gathered around Han Wenzi. Some sat upright, some lounged on cots, and some knelt properly, all listening to her tales of the road.

Han Wenzi was telling the story of the Liu family’s malicious infant. The baby had died in the womb and, out of resentment, transformed into an evil spirit. It devoured the soul of a fetus in a pregnant woman from the neighboring Sun family, occupied the body, crawled out of the Sun woman’s womb, and attempted to burrow back into its original mother from the Liu family…

Xie Yong was reclining on a cot, a handful of melon seeds in his hand. Seeing Xie Jiusi kneeling so seriously, enthralled by the story, Xie Yong’s playful side took over. He began flicking melon seed shells at him.

“…”

Jiusi brushed the shells off his clothes, glared at him, and went back to listening to how Han Wenzi subdued the infant. Xie Yong smirked, cracked another seed, and continued the barrage.

“Xie Yong! Are you looking for a beating?”

Jiusi lunged over to restrain him, grabbing both of Xie Yong’s wrists and shaking the seeds out of his hands. The seeds scattered all over the cot. Xie Yong looked toward his mother. “Mother, look at him!”

Han Wenzi took a sip of tea, refusing to intervene in the brothers’ scuffle, and merely smiled without a word.

Only Xie Wuyin was curious about the conclusion. “Mother, what happened to the Liu woman in the end?”

Han Wenzi’s smile faded. She set down her cup and shook her head. Of the five members of the Liu family, four had died, leaving only the eldest daughter.

When she and Fuying arrived, the Liu household was a scene of carnage. The eldest daughter was cradling a bruised, blue infant, whispering, “Sister, don’t cry.” It turned out the Liu family had used a dark method to determine the gender of the fetus; after aborting two previous female fetuses, they grew suspicious when the daughter claimed “Sister is back.” A local crone convinced them the baby was a vengeful ghost. The family took a concoction to induce a stillbirth and, per the crone’s orders, dismembered the corpse to scare the spirit away.

Jiusi’s face was dark. “If that’s the case, they got what they deserved.” They had killed the spirit three times and mutilated it; four lives were owed. Unfortunately, the Sun woman and her child were innocent collateral damage.

Luckily, Han Wenzi saved the Sun woman. She and Fuying then performed a rite to transcend the soul of the blue infant.

Xie Yong, picking up stray seeds from the cot, suddenly asked, “Is the Liu daughter really okay?”

He sat up slowly, his black hair sliding off his shoulder and releasing a faint fragrance. He rested his foot on Jiusi’s robe. Jiusi grabbed his ankle to flip him over, but stopped when Xie Yong continued: “She saw her mother abort two sisters. Unless she’s an idiot, she knew what happened. If she knew girl-babies were killed, why did she say ‘Sister is back’?”

If not for that sentence, the Liu family wouldn’t have grown suspicious. That child sought revenge would it really let the daughter go?

Han Wenzi and Wuyin exchanged a look. Her brow furrowed, and she rose. “This is bad.”

The Liu case happened in Shiqiao Village, barely a hundred miles away. Fearing something was amiss with the daughter, Han Wenzi summoned her sword to fly back immediately. Jiusi summoned his own to follow.

Xie Yong wanted to go, but he knew he’d just be a burden. He stood at the back, clutching his sleeves and watching Jiusi’s back with envy. Normally, Han Wenzi would have refused Jiusi to spare Xie Yong’s feelings, leading to a fight between the brothers. But today was urgent. She told Jiusi to be careful and took off.

“Mother is actually letting me come?” Jiusi’s eyes lit up. He leaped into the air, summoned his blade, and gave chase.

Left behind, Xie Yong leaned against the doorframe, the shifting shadows masking his expression.

The Missing Light

After a while, Xie Yong declined Wuyin’s offer to escort him back and limped to his room alone. Everything was as he left it the handkerchief was on the bed, but the light sphere was gone.

Xie Yong called out to it, but there was no response. Is it sleeping?

He lifted the blanket and found the gingerbread-man body in the corner. He squeezed it, trying to wake the sphere to ask about the favorability points. But the Meat Lingzhi was lifeless cold and heavy, without a spark of vitality. He tickled its “belly,” but received no reaction.

Cold sweat broke out on his brow.

“How can it be gone? It was fine when I left!”

He paced the room, clutching the meat, then slammed his hand onto the golden bell. The frantic ringing brought a servant running. Xie Yong threw open the door, his eyes red. “Did anyone enter while I was out?”

“No, Second Master. No one has been here.”

Xie Yong’s face went white. He backed into the room. “No one…”

The sphere had vanished into thin air. The Meat Lingzhi in his hand was just a hunk of dead matter. The noisy, chattering voice was gone. If not for the dull throb in his leg, he would have thought the last few days were a dream.

The Task Book. The Fated Opportunity. Was it all a lie?

He sat on the bed like a paper doll, his soul seemingly gone. The servant, terrified, tried to wake him. “Master? Master!”

Finally, Xie Yong looked at him, his gaze hollow. Suddenly, a mouthful of blood sprayed from his lips. The servant caught him as Xie Yong collapsed, using his spiritual energy to ring the golden bell again.

A Father’s Lecture

When Xie Yong woke up, Jing Fusuo and others were by the bed. Xie Yi sat beside him, his fingers on Xie Yong’s wrist, pouring a steady stream of spiritual energy into his meridians. Seeing him wake, Xie Yi withdrew his hand and scolded, “Who provoked you this time?”

Jing Fusuo’s diagnosis was almost comical: Xie Yong had vomited blood because of “excessive emotional agitation.” In other words, he had been literally sickened by anger.

Xie Yi sighed. He looked at his second son thin, narrow-shouldered, and looking piteously small on the bed. He dismissed the others and said, “Are you angry because I spoke for your brother in front of Fuying?”

Xie Yong said nothing.

“Jiusi is talented and hardworking,” Xie Yi continued. “He is more suited for the Qingyun Sect. Do you think it’s an easy life there? Most are sword cultivators; it is a life of hardship. You are pampered and precious; you wouldn’t last a day.”

“Your mother and I,” he said slowly, “have raised you for over ten years. We can raise you for ten or twenty more—we can raise you for a lifetime. Why go out and look for suffering?”

Xie Yong remained motionless.

Xie Yi talked to himself for a while longer, then noticed the Meat Lingzhi by the bed. He began lecturing Xie Yong again for being immature and stealing it from Jiusi. Mid-sentence, Xie Yong sat up, turned away, and vomited more blood onto the floor.

Xie Wuyin, waiting outside, ignored his father’s orders and burst in. He supported the limp Xie Yong and glared at his father. “Father! Do you want to kill him?”

Xie Yi was stunned. He had met a “soft wall” with Xie Yong and was now being barked at by his most respectful eldest son. Unable to vent his rage, he flicked his sleeve and left in a huff.

Wuyin held Xie Yong, rubbing his back to help his breathing. He might have said more, but Xie Yong didn’t hear it.

In his mind, a voice suddenly rang out the voice of the sphere, though it sounded strangely mechanical.

[Holy crap, Hubby! I was only gone for a second, how did you turn yourself into such a mess?!]